errorYou must be logged in to review this story.
Chanson (Songfic)
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Ron
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
8,235
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Ron
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
8,235
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Part II
We look in on Harry and Ron, and see that all is not well with our two favorite wizards.
Disclaimer: All characters are copyright JK Rowling. All lyrics are copyright Stephen Schwartz.
Every day as you do what you do every day,
You see the same faces who fill the cafe,
And if some of those faces have new things to say,
Nothing is really different.
And the sheep dot the hill where the olive tree sways,
And the world spins around with the greens and the grays,
And you never take time out to think of the ways,
Everything might be different.
“Ron, come on,” Harry said impatiently. “The train leaves in an hour; if we don’t leave now, we’re going to miss it!”
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Ron replied, his voice just a bit surly. “Would you tell me again why we can’t just Apparate to Bill and Fleur’s?”
“Because I’m still on antibiotics,” Harry reminded him. “You know what the healer said—no Apparition until they’re done. My system can’t handle it.”
Ron scowled, but didn’t press the point. “What about broomsticks?”
“In broad daylight?”
“Floo Powder?”
“The network is down today, remember? Even magical transport has to undergo maintenance sometimes, Ron.”
Ron muttered something under his breath. Harry chose not to make an issue of it. They’d been squabbling a lot lately, and Harry had learned to pick his battles—especially when most of those battles seemed to be over petty stuff that Harry couldn’t believe either of them really cared about.
But Ron had apparently learned to pick his battles, too, because an hour’s time saw them on the Muggle train to Devon, heading for Shell Cottage. Or, Harry mused, perhaps was simply looking forward to lunch with Fleur. The French witch was one of the most amazing cooks either had ever met, and Harry’s stomach was rumbling with anticipation of the meal.
He watched as the English countryside flashed by outside the train window. When Harry looked directly out of the window from the door, the outside world flashed by too quickly to be more than a blur, but looking out at an angle, he could see hills dotted with sheep and shepherds, dense forests, and beautiful meadows.
He sighed. If only his own life could be as idyllic as the scenes outside the train window. He had been giving serious thought to moving out of the flat he and Ron shared. Their friendship, once so steadfast, had been deteriorating rapidly lately, and Harry had no idea how to stop it.
“HARRY!”
Harry came back to himself with a start. Ron, his face twisted into a scowl, was glaring at him.
“Harry, what planet were you on? I told you twice we were almost there.”
“Sorry,” Harry said dully. “I was thinking.”
Ron looked as though he was going to say something, but then apparently thought better of it. “Well, come on, then,” he said shortly. “Fleur said she’d be waiting for us when we pulled in.”
Disclaimer: All characters are copyright JK Rowling. All lyrics are copyright Stephen Schwartz.
Every day as you do what you do every day,
You see the same faces who fill the cafe,
And if some of those faces have new things to say,
Nothing is really different.
And the sheep dot the hill where the olive tree sways,
And the world spins around with the greens and the grays,
And you never take time out to think of the ways,
Everything might be different.
“Ron, come on,” Harry said impatiently. “The train leaves in an hour; if we don’t leave now, we’re going to miss it!”
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Ron replied, his voice just a bit surly. “Would you tell me again why we can’t just Apparate to Bill and Fleur’s?”
“Because I’m still on antibiotics,” Harry reminded him. “You know what the healer said—no Apparition until they’re done. My system can’t handle it.”
Ron scowled, but didn’t press the point. “What about broomsticks?”
“In broad daylight?”
“Floo Powder?”
“The network is down today, remember? Even magical transport has to undergo maintenance sometimes, Ron.”
Ron muttered something under his breath. Harry chose not to make an issue of it. They’d been squabbling a lot lately, and Harry had learned to pick his battles—especially when most of those battles seemed to be over petty stuff that Harry couldn’t believe either of them really cared about.
But Ron had apparently learned to pick his battles, too, because an hour’s time saw them on the Muggle train to Devon, heading for Shell Cottage. Or, Harry mused, perhaps was simply looking forward to lunch with Fleur. The French witch was one of the most amazing cooks either had ever met, and Harry’s stomach was rumbling with anticipation of the meal.
He watched as the English countryside flashed by outside the train window. When Harry looked directly out of the window from the door, the outside world flashed by too quickly to be more than a blur, but looking out at an angle, he could see hills dotted with sheep and shepherds, dense forests, and beautiful meadows.
He sighed. If only his own life could be as idyllic as the scenes outside the train window. He had been giving serious thought to moving out of the flat he and Ron shared. Their friendship, once so steadfast, had been deteriorating rapidly lately, and Harry had no idea how to stop it.
“HARRY!”
Harry came back to himself with a start. Ron, his face twisted into a scowl, was glaring at him.
“Harry, what planet were you on? I told you twice we were almost there.”
“Sorry,” Harry said dully. “I was thinking.”
Ron looked as though he was going to say something, but then apparently thought better of it. “Well, come on, then,” he said shortly. “Fleur said she’d be waiting for us when we pulled in.”