From the Quill
Title: From the Quill
Rating: PG
Length: 1280, oneshot
Genre: Romance/Humor?
Pairing: Harry/Ginny
Summary: Harry's tired but Ginny's not.
Note: Look! Het. Wow. Written for hump_day101 using the prompt 'I think I forgot' (fluff) and _hpchallenge using the word 'quill.'
Harry was tired. All he wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep the past fourteen hours away. He could feel his eyelids dropping and his head lowering on its own accord.
The day had been very exhausting. He scheduled Quidditch practice first thing in the morning and his muscles had protested along with his teammates about moving around so early. Then he had potions, where he received detention. In care of magical creatures, Harry had to run around to take some new treacherous creature on a walk. And he had to do that twice because Ron pretended to be sick so Harry was stuck walking his. Then for detention, Harry was kept on his feet by transferring boxes from the entrance hall to the potions room without magic.
Harry very much thought he deserved a bit of sleep. At least a wink. But when Hermione was your drill sergeant you couldn’t touch sleep with an eight-foot pole.
“Harry! That easy is due tomorrow. First class. And you’re not even half way done.” Hermione sighed heavily, as if watching Ron and him work caused her great pain. “McGonagall won’t cut you any slack, you know. And I’m not doing yours for you.”
Harry blearily cracked an eye open and looked at Ron, who was grinning down at him from across the table. Hermione, apparently catching onto their line of thought said, “And you’re not copying Ron’s. I’ll make sure of that!” Ron snapped his mouth shut from his forthcoming objection.
Someone prodded Harry’s arm, and he mumbled.
“No sleep until you finish your essay,” Hermione said in a tone that allowed no leeway. Harry sat up and tried glowering at Ron’s gleeful face. His glare must have been pitiful for Ron only started laughing.
“And you, Ron. Are you -”
Ron held his hands out to stop her. “I just finished,” he announced with pleasure.
Hermione looked skeptically at him then slid the essay over to her and skimmed it. Harry felt someone kicking him under the table and he huffed in Ron’s general direction, lying his head back down to the inviting table. Ron chuckled loudly, causing Harry to feebly cover his ears.
“I guess that’ll do. It’s no worse than your usual stuff,” Hermione relented, pushing the essay at Ron, who did his best to look appalled, but it was obvious he was happy to be done.
“Great, Hermione. I’m glad you think my work is so good.” He gathered his books while Hermione rolled her eyes. “Now, I’m going to imitate Ginny and get the hell out of here.”
Hermione gave him a stern look and Harry laughed sleepily, the sound muffled by the sleeve of his robes. Then the last part of what Ron said floated into Harry’s conscience. He groaned, wanting nothing more then to follow Ginny’s previous lead and leave the moment his work was finished. Or maybe leave before his work was finished.
Perhaps he could persuade Dobby to finish the essay for him. Of course, it would probably just end up saying reasons why Harry Potter was the best person in the universe. Well, Harry reasoned, it couldn’t get any worse then it already was.
“You could be gone too if you’d finish your essay,” Hermione reminded him. He growled his displeasure. Apparently, Hermione didn’t appreciate that because she grabbed his head and pulled him into a sitting position. “Work,” she commanded, placing the quill in Harry’s hand and shoving a book at him.
About an hour later, many huffs from an irritated Hermione, 327 pages - yes, Harry was counting -, and three paragraphs later Hermione announced him hopeless and strolled out of the library. Harry had a victory dance in his mind and fell asleep before his head even hit the table.
Something was flittering at Harry’s neck. Grumbling, Harry roused from his sleep and blinked, looking around for whatever had woken him. Someone giggled from behind him.
Harry whirled around to find Ginny in a T-shirt and red pajama bottoms standing behind him. She reached her hand out and twirled the hair at Harry’s neck, causing a shiver to run through him. It tickled much more then Harry would have guessed.
“What do you want?” Harry asked, slightly cross at being woken up.
“I think I forgot my quill.” Ginny plucked something out of Harry’s hair. Harry was very much surprised to see it was the quill Hermione had stuck in his hand earlier. How’d it end up in his hair?
Ginny smiled impishly and Harry understood that she had stuck it there. What else had she done to him in his state of vulnerability?
“Funny.” Harry reached out to grab it from her but she pulled it back and shook her head, letting out a soft, “Nu-uh.”
Harry watched in curiosity as Ginny swayed past him and propped herself up on the table. She bit her lip and looked contemplatively at him. Harry had just decided to go back to sleep when Ginny placed the quill in her mouth and let her silky hair fall out of the rubber band.
Harry stared as the tendrils cascaded down her shoulders to brush against her breasts. Harry decided that her Weird Sisters shirt was much too tight for an innocent Gyrffindor. He gulped and Ginny smiled around the quill, her lips curving lovingly and teeth pulling it in so it wouldn’t fall.
She plucked the quill out of her mouth, dragging her tongue along it, and dropping her eyelids slightly. She peered at Harry through her heavy-lidded eyes and twirled the quill between her fingers.
Harry decided the temperature charms in the library had gone wonky because it was much too hot. Especially for the books. What if one caught fire from the heat?
“What are you working on?” Ginny asked, hopping off the table and moving behind Harry, making his back taut in expectation of…what he didn’t know, but something. Did Ron know what his little sister could do with a quill? Granted, she hadn’t done much of anything, but still. And Harry supposed she wasn’t very little, anyway. Little girls didn’t walk around in tight shirts, accentuating their curves. “Or were working on.”
Harry’s mouth opened and shut for a short amount of time before he was able to speak. “Transfigurations essay,” was all he got out and all he was about to try. Ginny was twisting the quill in his hair and the strands of black hair being picked up and coaxed by her nimble fingers around the quill felt sensual.
“Well, that blows.” To demonstrate she blew into Harry’s hair, sending electric tingles in a race down his arms. Harry had to bit his lip to keep his fingers from reaching behind him to Ginny.
“Oh!” she breathed in excitement. Harry’s eyes opened wide at the sound. It definitely sounded nice. “Look, my quill.” She left the other quill twisted in Harry’s hair and bent over, grabbing something from under the table. Harry willed his mind not to stray to other thoughts as she reached between his feet.
“Find it then?” Harry cursed silently when he heard his voice crack. Ginny grinned.
“Yeah.” She tapped him on the nose with her quill before she turned and headed to the library door. “I’d finish that essay soon or Hermione’ll have a fit,” she warned. Harry could hear her tinkling laughter as the door shut.
Harry sighed heavily and ran his hand through his locks, letting the quill fall to the floor with a soft thud. He was wide-awake now. But there was no way he would be able to work on his essay anytime soon.
Rating: PG
Length: 1280, oneshot
Genre: Romance/Humor?
Pairing: Harry/Ginny
Summary: Harry's tired but Ginny's not.
Note: Look! Het. Wow. Written for hump_day101 using the prompt 'I think I forgot' (fluff) and _hpchallenge using the word 'quill.'
Harry was tired. All he wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep the past fourteen hours away. He could feel his eyelids dropping and his head lowering on its own accord.
The day had been very exhausting. He scheduled Quidditch practice first thing in the morning and his muscles had protested along with his teammates about moving around so early. Then he had potions, where he received detention. In care of magical creatures, Harry had to run around to take some new treacherous creature on a walk. And he had to do that twice because Ron pretended to be sick so Harry was stuck walking his. Then for detention, Harry was kept on his feet by transferring boxes from the entrance hall to the potions room without magic.
Harry very much thought he deserved a bit of sleep. At least a wink. But when Hermione was your drill sergeant you couldn’t touch sleep with an eight-foot pole.
“Harry! That easy is due tomorrow. First class. And you’re not even half way done.” Hermione sighed heavily, as if watching Ron and him work caused her great pain. “McGonagall won’t cut you any slack, you know. And I’m not doing yours for you.”
Harry blearily cracked an eye open and looked at Ron, who was grinning down at him from across the table. Hermione, apparently catching onto their line of thought said, “And you’re not copying Ron’s. I’ll make sure of that!” Ron snapped his mouth shut from his forthcoming objection.
Someone prodded Harry’s arm, and he mumbled.
“No sleep until you finish your essay,” Hermione said in a tone that allowed no leeway. Harry sat up and tried glowering at Ron’s gleeful face. His glare must have been pitiful for Ron only started laughing.
“And you, Ron. Are you -”
Ron held his hands out to stop her. “I just finished,” he announced with pleasure.
Hermione looked skeptically at him then slid the essay over to her and skimmed it. Harry felt someone kicking him under the table and he huffed in Ron’s general direction, lying his head back down to the inviting table. Ron chuckled loudly, causing Harry to feebly cover his ears.
“I guess that’ll do. It’s no worse than your usual stuff,” Hermione relented, pushing the essay at Ron, who did his best to look appalled, but it was obvious he was happy to be done.
“Great, Hermione. I’m glad you think my work is so good.” He gathered his books while Hermione rolled her eyes. “Now, I’m going to imitate Ginny and get the hell out of here.”
Hermione gave him a stern look and Harry laughed sleepily, the sound muffled by the sleeve of his robes. Then the last part of what Ron said floated into Harry’s conscience. He groaned, wanting nothing more then to follow Ginny’s previous lead and leave the moment his work was finished. Or maybe leave before his work was finished.
Perhaps he could persuade Dobby to finish the essay for him. Of course, it would probably just end up saying reasons why Harry Potter was the best person in the universe. Well, Harry reasoned, it couldn’t get any worse then it already was.
“You could be gone too if you’d finish your essay,” Hermione reminded him. He growled his displeasure. Apparently, Hermione didn’t appreciate that because she grabbed his head and pulled him into a sitting position. “Work,” she commanded, placing the quill in Harry’s hand and shoving a book at him.
About an hour later, many huffs from an irritated Hermione, 327 pages - yes, Harry was counting -, and three paragraphs later Hermione announced him hopeless and strolled out of the library. Harry had a victory dance in his mind and fell asleep before his head even hit the table.
Something was flittering at Harry’s neck. Grumbling, Harry roused from his sleep and blinked, looking around for whatever had woken him. Someone giggled from behind him.
Harry whirled around to find Ginny in a T-shirt and red pajama bottoms standing behind him. She reached her hand out and twirled the hair at Harry’s neck, causing a shiver to run through him. It tickled much more then Harry would have guessed.
“What do you want?” Harry asked, slightly cross at being woken up.
“I think I forgot my quill.” Ginny plucked something out of Harry’s hair. Harry was very much surprised to see it was the quill Hermione had stuck in his hand earlier. How’d it end up in his hair?
Ginny smiled impishly and Harry understood that she had stuck it there. What else had she done to him in his state of vulnerability?
“Funny.” Harry reached out to grab it from her but she pulled it back and shook her head, letting out a soft, “Nu-uh.”
Harry watched in curiosity as Ginny swayed past him and propped herself up on the table. She bit her lip and looked contemplatively at him. Harry had just decided to go back to sleep when Ginny placed the quill in her mouth and let her silky hair fall out of the rubber band.
Harry stared as the tendrils cascaded down her shoulders to brush against her breasts. Harry decided that her Weird Sisters shirt was much too tight for an innocent Gyrffindor. He gulped and Ginny smiled around the quill, her lips curving lovingly and teeth pulling it in so it wouldn’t fall.
She plucked the quill out of her mouth, dragging her tongue along it, and dropping her eyelids slightly. She peered at Harry through her heavy-lidded eyes and twirled the quill between her fingers.
Harry decided the temperature charms in the library had gone wonky because it was much too hot. Especially for the books. What if one caught fire from the heat?
“What are you working on?” Ginny asked, hopping off the table and moving behind Harry, making his back taut in expectation of…what he didn’t know, but something. Did Ron know what his little sister could do with a quill? Granted, she hadn’t done much of anything, but still. And Harry supposed she wasn’t very little, anyway. Little girls didn’t walk around in tight shirts, accentuating their curves. “Or were working on.”
Harry’s mouth opened and shut for a short amount of time before he was able to speak. “Transfigurations essay,” was all he got out and all he was about to try. Ginny was twisting the quill in his hair and the strands of black hair being picked up and coaxed by her nimble fingers around the quill felt sensual.
“Well, that blows.” To demonstrate she blew into Harry’s hair, sending electric tingles in a race down his arms. Harry had to bit his lip to keep his fingers from reaching behind him to Ginny.
“Oh!” she breathed in excitement. Harry’s eyes opened wide at the sound. It definitely sounded nice. “Look, my quill.” She left the other quill twisted in Harry’s hair and bent over, grabbing something from under the table. Harry willed his mind not to stray to other thoughts as she reached between his feet.
“Find it then?” Harry cursed silently when he heard his voice crack. Ginny grinned.
“Yeah.” She tapped him on the nose with her quill before she turned and headed to the library door. “I’d finish that essay soon or Hermione’ll have a fit,” she warned. Harry could hear her tinkling laughter as the door shut.
Harry sighed heavily and ran his hand through his locks, letting the quill fall to the floor with a soft thud. He was wide-awake now. But there was no way he would be able to work on his essay anytime soon.