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oakstone730) wrote2013-02-16 06:07 pm
oakstone730) wrote2013-02-16 06:07 pm
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leigh_adams on Harlequin’s Smutty Valentine’s Day Comment Meme
To the prompter - not sure if this is what you were thinking of, but I gave it a shot.
“Harry,” Ginny smiled as he came up to her and offered her cheek to him. He obligingly leaned forward and kissed it, “Lily says she left potions book at your place, can you find it and floo it over?”
Harry nodded, they had yet to successfully master the switching of houses during the holidays without one or more of their three children forgetting something critical. “They're all set for the night at your parents?”
“Yes, Mum was plying them with more supper even though I told her they’d already eaten.”
“Al will never say no to a second supper.” Harry smiled at the thought of their second son’s voracious appetite.
“Yes, I suspect I’ll be shopping for new robes for him before he goes back,” Ginny said wryly, “He is about due for another growth spurt.”
Harry smiled, and looked out at the ballroom, Pansy’s Yule celebrations seemed to be more extravagant each year. He shook his head at the sight of the floating islands of white flowers that were light by fairies dressed in sparkling white bows, their glittering lights danced as they flew around the blossoms. A full orchestra was performing on the far side of the room, to the delight of the wizards and witches out on the dance floor.
“Pansy has outdone herself this year,” he heard Ginny say, and he turned back to look at her. Her icy-blue evening gown had silver bangles that sparkle in the fairylights.
“She did, but then it isn’t every year your husband is elected Ministry of Magic,” he agreed.
“Don’t remind me,” Ginny gave a little shudder that sent the bangles swaying, “It would have been more subtle if she had hung a banner that says Pansy Longbottom’s husband is Minister of Magic.”
“Her and Neville,” Harry shook his head, “I never saw that coming.”
Ginny’s smile faded a little, “Yes, well, we didn’t see a lot of things coming? Did we?”
Harry felt his stomach tighten as he looked at her. “No, I guess we didn’t,” he agreed softly. The shock and pain of their break-up five years earlier had faded but it didn’t take much to dredge up those feelings of being at a complete loss and not knowing where to turn.
“I suppose you’d best go find your date or we will be in the papers once again.”
“Didn’t come with a date, but I can escort you back to wherever Edmund has gotten to,” Harry said. “Shall we start looking at the bar?”
“No more Edmund,” Ginny said lightly, flicking her back over her shoulder. Harry gave a double-take, he had hated the man but Ginny had seemed quite taken with him the last time he’d seen them together.
“I’m, erm, sorry?” He hadn’t heard that they had stopped seeing each other, Molly was usually pretty quick to point out what Ginny was up to, but Harry tried to avoid the Burrow around Christmastime. Molly had finally accepted the divorce but sometimes she would look at him with misty-eyed regret.
“Don’t be, you know, as well I do, that he was a cheat.” Ginny’s lips tightened. “I guess it just took a while to see it for myself. I thought it wasn’t important, he was great fun to go out with, do those things I never got a chance to do when I was younger.”
Harry grabbed two glasses of wine from a tray that was floating by and handed a glass to Ginny. He took a deep swallow before responding, it was his fault, of course, that she hadn’t been able to live it up when she was younger. A night of consoling her after the final battle, after Fred had died, had had the surprise consequence of James being born ten months later. They had married as soon as they realized she was pregnant. While their friends were out celebrating a Voldemort-free world, they would spend nights up with a colicky baby and fighting over whose turn it was to evanesco the dirty nappies.
They had managed to stay together for ten years and two more children. It was hard to say where things had started going wrong but he knew that whatever problems they had, they’d been compounded by the ceaseless onslaught of the media watching them every minute. If Harry smiled at a shop clerk the headlines the next day would rage about rumors of an affair. At first he and Ginny had laughed it off, but Ginny’s laughter had faded when photos of Harry kissing and fondling a blonde in a negligee in a hotel room had been published.
Harry had successfully proven that the photographs had been faked, an unscrupulous reporter had bribed Harry’s barber to provide his hair and had used a polyjuiced fake-Harry for the photographs.
Their fights had grown more frequent, Harry couldn’t even remember what they had been about, only that they both had been miserable. One night Ginny had broken down in tears and announced she couldn’t do it anymore. “I used to love you, Harry. We have to end this before I stop liking you.”
“You deserve a lot better than that git, and anyway going out on the town every night isn’t all that it is cracked up to be.” Harry said as he remembered what it was like as a divorced twenty-seven year old, on his own for the first time in his life.
“Hmmm, yes, I remember your ‘I’m free’ stage.” Ginny nudged him with her elbow, “George had to increase his brewing schedule twofold to accommodate your hangover potion orders.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” Harry protested faintly, “I didn’t go out every night--”
“Of course not, just every night that the kids weren’t at Grimmauld Place.” Ginny held up her hand and started folding down her fingers, “There was Clara, Maria, Anna, Kirsten and who was the last one of that year? Hmmm, I can’t remember--”
“You remember perfectly well, Candy.” Harry ground out, “She hardly counts--”
“Oh, I think Candy definitely counts.” Ginny said with a wink, “I still remember Percy’s face when his favorite porn star walked into the kitchen of the Burrow on your arm.”
“For the Godric’s sake, I didn’t know she was that kind of actress,” Harry said as he laughed at the memory, “And it was the last time I let George set me up with a date.”
Ginny’s face flushed prettily pink as she laughed with him, “Yes, Candy was the last one for a while, when you entered your, what does Hermione call it? Your monk phase?”
“You two talk about me far too much.”
“If only you didn’t give us such delicious material to work with.”
Harry’s response was cut-off as his arm was jostled from behind and his wine sloshed out of his glass. Cursing he pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and instinctively started to blot the wine from where it had landed on Ginny’s dress. It wasn’t until she put her hand over his and stopped him that he realized what he was doing.
“Erm, sorry,” He muttered as he handed her the handkerchief.
“It’s not that I don’t mind you touching my breasts, but some might get the wrong idea,” Ginny said absentmindedly as she blotted the handkerchief against the stain. “It’s no use, I think the gown is ruined. No point in trying a cleaning spell on this material. ”
“I should have been drinking white wine, knowing how clumsy I am.”
“Guess, I’ll head back to the Burrow, and play gobstones with the children.”
“No reason to end your evening so early,” Harry protested.
“I would just as soon leave before someone takes a photograph of Harry Potter’s ex-wife with a wine stain down her front, the headlines will have me labeled as an alcoholic.”
Harry tried to laugh at that but he knew it was true, the newspapers had been far harsher on Ginny after their break-up than him. The crowd had grown as the orchestra was taking a break and those who had been dancing squeezed past them to get to the bar area.
“Why don’t you come back to Grimmauld Place with me?” He asked impulsively, “I mean, was about ready to leave anyway, I’ve already talked with Neville and if you leave there will be no one left to talk to--”
“No one else in this room of two hundred people?” Ginny said with a laugh.
“No one I want to talk to,” he said lamely, “I don’t want to be the one responsible for you having to lose gobstones to Al.”
“I’ll have you know that my gobstone skills are much improved.” Ginny said with a tilt of her chin, “I’ve only lost three of the last five games.”
“Poor Ginny, bested at gobstones by a fourteen year old.”
“I think he cheats,” Ginny said with a grin.
“Of course he does, George taught him how to play. What do you say? I have that bottle of elf-wine that your father gave me for Christmas.” He suddenly wanted very much for her to come back to his house with him, their former-home.
Ginny’s smile faded, “Are you sure?”
“Yes, more than anything.” he said with resolve as he held out his hand, “Just wine and conversation, I promise.”
Ginny reached out and clasped his hand, “And if I want more?”
“Gin--”
“Just wondering,” she said with a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes, “I think after being with a lout like Edmund, it made me realize how good we had it.”
“We had our problems. I wasn’t a perfect husband,”
“Nor, I, a perfect wife. I think we’ve both matured a lot since then.” Ginny’s smile faded, “Forget it, I was being silly--”
“Wine, conversation, maybe a little more,” Harry tugged her close and apparated them away.
leigh_adams on Harlequin’s Smutty Valentine’s Day Comment MemePairing:Harry/Ginny (NOTE: Original Prompt was Draco/Ginny and I misread it (or more likely mis-wished it as Harry/Ginny), because, you know, I'm a complete idiot.
Scenario/kink: Their first marriage didn't pan out. A spark ignites between them at Pansy Parkinson's Yule gala...
Warnings: Pre-Het, sappiness, Epilogue compliant-ishTo the prompter - not sure if this is what you were thinking of, but I gave it a shot.
“Harry,” Ginny smiled as he came up to her and offered her cheek to him. He obligingly leaned forward and kissed it, “Lily says she left potions book at your place, can you find it and floo it over?”
Harry nodded, they had yet to successfully master the switching of houses during the holidays without one or more of their three children forgetting something critical. “They're all set for the night at your parents?”
“Yes, Mum was plying them with more supper even though I told her they’d already eaten.”
“Al will never say no to a second supper.” Harry smiled at the thought of their second son’s voracious appetite.
“Yes, I suspect I’ll be shopping for new robes for him before he goes back,” Ginny said wryly, “He is about due for another growth spurt.”
Harry smiled, and looked out at the ballroom, Pansy’s Yule celebrations seemed to be more extravagant each year. He shook his head at the sight of the floating islands of white flowers that were light by fairies dressed in sparkling white bows, their glittering lights danced as they flew around the blossoms. A full orchestra was performing on the far side of the room, to the delight of the wizards and witches out on the dance floor.
“Pansy has outdone herself this year,” he heard Ginny say, and he turned back to look at her. Her icy-blue evening gown had silver bangles that sparkle in the fairylights.
“She did, but then it isn’t every year your husband is elected Ministry of Magic,” he agreed.
“Don’t remind me,” Ginny gave a little shudder that sent the bangles swaying, “It would have been more subtle if she had hung a banner that says Pansy Longbottom’s husband is Minister of Magic.”
“Her and Neville,” Harry shook his head, “I never saw that coming.”
Ginny’s smile faded a little, “Yes, well, we didn’t see a lot of things coming? Did we?”
Harry felt his stomach tighten as he looked at her. “No, I guess we didn’t,” he agreed softly. The shock and pain of their break-up five years earlier had faded but it didn’t take much to dredge up those feelings of being at a complete loss and not knowing where to turn.
“I suppose you’d best go find your date or we will be in the papers once again.”
“Didn’t come with a date, but I can escort you back to wherever Edmund has gotten to,” Harry said. “Shall we start looking at the bar?”
“No more Edmund,” Ginny said lightly, flicking her back over her shoulder. Harry gave a double-take, he had hated the man but Ginny had seemed quite taken with him the last time he’d seen them together.
“I’m, erm, sorry?” He hadn’t heard that they had stopped seeing each other, Molly was usually pretty quick to point out what Ginny was up to, but Harry tried to avoid the Burrow around Christmastime. Molly had finally accepted the divorce but sometimes she would look at him with misty-eyed regret.
“Don’t be, you know, as well I do, that he was a cheat.” Ginny’s lips tightened. “I guess it just took a while to see it for myself. I thought it wasn’t important, he was great fun to go out with, do those things I never got a chance to do when I was younger.”
Harry grabbed two glasses of wine from a tray that was floating by and handed a glass to Ginny. He took a deep swallow before responding, it was his fault, of course, that she hadn’t been able to live it up when she was younger. A night of consoling her after the final battle, after Fred had died, had had the surprise consequence of James being born ten months later. They had married as soon as they realized she was pregnant. While their friends were out celebrating a Voldemort-free world, they would spend nights up with a colicky baby and fighting over whose turn it was to evanesco the dirty nappies.
They had managed to stay together for ten years and two more children. It was hard to say where things had started going wrong but he knew that whatever problems they had, they’d been compounded by the ceaseless onslaught of the media watching them every minute. If Harry smiled at a shop clerk the headlines the next day would rage about rumors of an affair. At first he and Ginny had laughed it off, but Ginny’s laughter had faded when photos of Harry kissing and fondling a blonde in a negligee in a hotel room had been published.
Harry had successfully proven that the photographs had been faked, an unscrupulous reporter had bribed Harry’s barber to provide his hair and had used a polyjuiced fake-Harry for the photographs.
Their fights had grown more frequent, Harry couldn’t even remember what they had been about, only that they both had been miserable. One night Ginny had broken down in tears and announced she couldn’t do it anymore. “I used to love you, Harry. We have to end this before I stop liking you.”
“You deserve a lot better than that git, and anyway going out on the town every night isn’t all that it is cracked up to be.” Harry said as he remembered what it was like as a divorced twenty-seven year old, on his own for the first time in his life.
“Hmmm, yes, I remember your ‘I’m free’ stage.” Ginny nudged him with her elbow, “George had to increase his brewing schedule twofold to accommodate your hangover potion orders.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” Harry protested faintly, “I didn’t go out every night--”
“Of course not, just every night that the kids weren’t at Grimmauld Place.” Ginny held up her hand and started folding down her fingers, “There was Clara, Maria, Anna, Kirsten and who was the last one of that year? Hmmm, I can’t remember--”
“You remember perfectly well, Candy.” Harry ground out, “She hardly counts--”
“Oh, I think Candy definitely counts.” Ginny said with a wink, “I still remember Percy’s face when his favorite porn star walked into the kitchen of the Burrow on your arm.”
“For the Godric’s sake, I didn’t know she was that kind of actress,” Harry said as he laughed at the memory, “And it was the last time I let George set me up with a date.”
Ginny’s face flushed prettily pink as she laughed with him, “Yes, Candy was the last one for a while, when you entered your, what does Hermione call it? Your monk phase?”
“You two talk about me far too much.”
“If only you didn’t give us such delicious material to work with.”
Harry’s response was cut-off as his arm was jostled from behind and his wine sloshed out of his glass. Cursing he pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and instinctively started to blot the wine from where it had landed on Ginny’s dress. It wasn’t until she put her hand over his and stopped him that he realized what he was doing.
“Erm, sorry,” He muttered as he handed her the handkerchief.
“It’s not that I don’t mind you touching my breasts, but some might get the wrong idea,” Ginny said absentmindedly as she blotted the handkerchief against the stain. “It’s no use, I think the gown is ruined. No point in trying a cleaning spell on this material. ”
“I should have been drinking white wine, knowing how clumsy I am.”
“Guess, I’ll head back to the Burrow, and play gobstones with the children.”
“No reason to end your evening so early,” Harry protested.
“I would just as soon leave before someone takes a photograph of Harry Potter’s ex-wife with a wine stain down her front, the headlines will have me labeled as an alcoholic.”
Harry tried to laugh at that but he knew it was true, the newspapers had been far harsher on Ginny after their break-up than him. The crowd had grown as the orchestra was taking a break and those who had been dancing squeezed past them to get to the bar area.
“Why don’t you come back to Grimmauld Place with me?” He asked impulsively, “I mean, was about ready to leave anyway, I’ve already talked with Neville and if you leave there will be no one left to talk to--”
“No one else in this room of two hundred people?” Ginny said with a laugh.
“No one I want to talk to,” he said lamely, “I don’t want to be the one responsible for you having to lose gobstones to Al.”
“I’ll have you know that my gobstone skills are much improved.” Ginny said with a tilt of her chin, “I’ve only lost three of the last five games.”
“Poor Ginny, bested at gobstones by a fourteen year old.”
“I think he cheats,” Ginny said with a grin.
“Of course he does, George taught him how to play. What do you say? I have that bottle of elf-wine that your father gave me for Christmas.” He suddenly wanted very much for her to come back to his house with him, their former-home.
Ginny’s smile faded, “Are you sure?”
“Yes, more than anything.” he said with resolve as he held out his hand, “Just wine and conversation, I promise.”
Ginny reached out and clasped his hand, “And if I want more?”
“Gin--”
“Just wondering,” she said with a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes, “I think after being with a lout like Edmund, it made me realize how good we had it.”
“We had our problems. I wasn’t a perfect husband,”
“Nor, I, a perfect wife. I think we’ve both matured a lot since then.” Ginny’s smile faded, “Forget it, I was being silly--”
“Wine, conversation, maybe a little more,” Harry tugged her close and apparated them away.
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marty