100 Moments
folder
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
10,629
Reviews:
52
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
10,629
Reviews:
52
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.
Sound
Title: Sound
Author: ianthe_waiting
Rating: MA
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Genre: Drabble
Warnings: M/F
Summary: #37 – Sound. ‘I see a red door, and I want it painted black.’
Word Count: 962 words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words. This is only a taste of an idea I have…and yes, I am evil.
Prompt 37 – Sound
I did not believe her, not at first.
She heard music when there should not be any. We had not seen another living person for two months, and I thought that Hermione Granger was finally beginning to crack up.
“It is like…a sitar and some kind of electric guitar…” she said when I asked her to explain it to me.
I would listen…cup my hands over my ears and listen, but I heard nothing.
We had left London, there was no one left alive. We went to Birmingham, Bristol, Liverpool, Manchester, Glasgow, and so many other places…there was no one. No Muggles, no wizards, none of Hermione’s electricity, and far too much magic. But what there was an overabundance of were Inferi. We knew someone had to be alive, someone who was controlling the Inferi.
Hermione called them ‘zombies.’
We slept in shifts at night, a few hours a piece. We moved from place to place, searching for someone alive, or the dark wizard that had cursed the dead to move. After two months, we found nothing.
Inferi were damn near impossible to stop. You cannot kill them, of course, you have to destroy them completely. As far as we can tell, they have only one motive: kill everything. Human and beast.
“There! Listen, Charlie!”
We were high atop Bridgewater Place in Leeds, having climbed high to see a possible route out of the city or any survivors. For some reason Apparition has become difficult in some places…Leeds for instance. Inferi roamed the streets at night, but less during the day. We sat with what Hermione called ‘binoculars,’ searching the city.
I could hear only the wind, and shrugged at Hermione. She huffed.
In the two months, Hermione and I have become close. Perhaps it is only because we have been forced to become close due to the circumstances. We often find solace in each other, and I have actually grown to look forward to the moments when we can safely make love without the fear of Inferi bursting in through the doors and windows. They always find us, they always find a way to break through the defenses to get to us…
I turn my head to look east…and then, I hear it.
It is a song, sitar…and a drum. But it is not a sound like one would expect hearing in the wind, high above the ground.
“You hear it?” Hermione asks, rising from her spot on the roof to come to my side near the edge of the building.
I nod, cupping my hand over my ear.
Hermione slips her arms about my chest and together we stumble away from the edge. I can still hear a few strains of music as she kisses me as we fall to the roof, kneeling before each other. The wind whips her hair and ruffles mine, but it doesn’t matter. She tastes like the cold bottled tea we had found that morning…
“Charlie?” she asks as we pull away.
“Hm?”
I brush a few strands of her unruly hair behind her ear, holding her face in my hands.
“It is a Muggle song…at least the melody is…”
She is pale, but her amber eyes are wide.
“I think it is a Muggle rock song. And it is not a recording.”
I did not know much about Muggle rock music.
“’Paint it, Black’ by The Rolling Stones.”
I frown. “And what does that mean?”
She shakes her head, her whole body shivering, and not from the wind. “I don’t know.”
Hermione hugs me again, burying her face into my dragon hide jerkin, her fingers moving to my hair, which has grown long after the months we have run. She hums the melody into my chest, and I, in turn, shiver.
It is an eerie sound, Hermione’s voice, and the faint sound of accompanying music on the wind. It frightens me.
What has happened to our world?
All I have is Hermione, a girl I barely knew before now, and for some reason we have been thrown together into this madness…
For the rest of the day, we hear the song as we move along the empty streets of Leeds, heading southeast. We do not see any Inferi, and we find a safe place to sleep for the night. It rains soon after we find an old inn outside the city, securing the windows and doors and bedding down in the best room.
Hermione is happy I can hear the music, and she smiles at me when I kiss her bare belly. I wonder if the world was still inhabited by the living, if we would have found each other as we had… I wonder if I would have ever been able to taste Hermione on my tongue or hear her voice when she cried my name.
She is so beautiful riding me, her body moving over mine, her hot centre taking my cock as if it had been made only to take me… Her skin is like satin, her smile like the sun, and when I fill her with my seed, I forget that we are the only two people left alive…
And then I hear the music again. No walls can keep it out, and as she lays against me, panting, our sweat cold between us, we listen to the music…haunting, strange, and disconcerting.
“’I see a red door, and I want it painted, black…’” she whispers.
Somehow I understand.
I was never the smartest Weasley child, but somehow I understand.
The music is either a shared delusion, or it is a message or sign.
The music fades under the violent patter of rain and the distant shrieks of the Inferi…and we hold each other in the dark, lost without each other.
Author: ianthe_waiting
Rating: MA
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Genre: Drabble
Warnings: M/F
Summary: #37 – Sound. ‘I see a red door, and I want it painted black.’
Word Count: 962 words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words. This is only a taste of an idea I have…and yes, I am evil.
Prompt 37 – Sound
I did not believe her, not at first.
She heard music when there should not be any. We had not seen another living person for two months, and I thought that Hermione Granger was finally beginning to crack up.
“It is like…a sitar and some kind of electric guitar…” she said when I asked her to explain it to me.
I would listen…cup my hands over my ears and listen, but I heard nothing.
We had left London, there was no one left alive. We went to Birmingham, Bristol, Liverpool, Manchester, Glasgow, and so many other places…there was no one. No Muggles, no wizards, none of Hermione’s electricity, and far too much magic. But what there was an overabundance of were Inferi. We knew someone had to be alive, someone who was controlling the Inferi.
Hermione called them ‘zombies.’
We slept in shifts at night, a few hours a piece. We moved from place to place, searching for someone alive, or the dark wizard that had cursed the dead to move. After two months, we found nothing.
Inferi were damn near impossible to stop. You cannot kill them, of course, you have to destroy them completely. As far as we can tell, they have only one motive: kill everything. Human and beast.
“There! Listen, Charlie!”
We were high atop Bridgewater Place in Leeds, having climbed high to see a possible route out of the city or any survivors. For some reason Apparition has become difficult in some places…Leeds for instance. Inferi roamed the streets at night, but less during the day. We sat with what Hermione called ‘binoculars,’ searching the city.
I could hear only the wind, and shrugged at Hermione. She huffed.
In the two months, Hermione and I have become close. Perhaps it is only because we have been forced to become close due to the circumstances. We often find solace in each other, and I have actually grown to look forward to the moments when we can safely make love without the fear of Inferi bursting in through the doors and windows. They always find us, they always find a way to break through the defenses to get to us…
I turn my head to look east…and then, I hear it.
It is a song, sitar…and a drum. But it is not a sound like one would expect hearing in the wind, high above the ground.
“You hear it?” Hermione asks, rising from her spot on the roof to come to my side near the edge of the building.
I nod, cupping my hand over my ear.
Hermione slips her arms about my chest and together we stumble away from the edge. I can still hear a few strains of music as she kisses me as we fall to the roof, kneeling before each other. The wind whips her hair and ruffles mine, but it doesn’t matter. She tastes like the cold bottled tea we had found that morning…
“Charlie?” she asks as we pull away.
“Hm?”
I brush a few strands of her unruly hair behind her ear, holding her face in my hands.
“It is a Muggle song…at least the melody is…”
She is pale, but her amber eyes are wide.
“I think it is a Muggle rock song. And it is not a recording.”
I did not know much about Muggle rock music.
“’Paint it, Black’ by The Rolling Stones.”
I frown. “And what does that mean?”
She shakes her head, her whole body shivering, and not from the wind. “I don’t know.”
Hermione hugs me again, burying her face into my dragon hide jerkin, her fingers moving to my hair, which has grown long after the months we have run. She hums the melody into my chest, and I, in turn, shiver.
It is an eerie sound, Hermione’s voice, and the faint sound of accompanying music on the wind. It frightens me.
What has happened to our world?
All I have is Hermione, a girl I barely knew before now, and for some reason we have been thrown together into this madness…
For the rest of the day, we hear the song as we move along the empty streets of Leeds, heading southeast. We do not see any Inferi, and we find a safe place to sleep for the night. It rains soon after we find an old inn outside the city, securing the windows and doors and bedding down in the best room.
Hermione is happy I can hear the music, and she smiles at me when I kiss her bare belly. I wonder if the world was still inhabited by the living, if we would have found each other as we had… I wonder if I would have ever been able to taste Hermione on my tongue or hear her voice when she cried my name.
She is so beautiful riding me, her body moving over mine, her hot centre taking my cock as if it had been made only to take me… Her skin is like satin, her smile like the sun, and when I fill her with my seed, I forget that we are the only two people left alive…
And then I hear the music again. No walls can keep it out, and as she lays against me, panting, our sweat cold between us, we listen to the music…haunting, strange, and disconcerting.
“’I see a red door, and I want it painted, black…’” she whispers.
Somehow I understand.
I was never the smartest Weasley child, but somehow I understand.
The music is either a shared delusion, or it is a message or sign.
The music fades under the violent patter of rain and the distant shrieks of the Inferi…and we hold each other in the dark, lost without each other.