100 Moments
folder
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
10,658
Reviews:
52
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
10,658
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.
Rain
Title: Rain
Author: ianthe_waiting
Rating: T
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: None
Summary: #66 – Rain. Rain pelted her head and shoulders, but she ignored it.
Word Count: 1,210 words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words. Suggested by elawvu3.
Prompt 66 – Rain
The dog had been following her since the Tube station. Hermione Granger had noted the large dark dog, a breed that reminded her of a wolfhound, but with darker fur. It was late, too late for any self-possessing young woman to be on the streets so late. However, Hermione Granger had no fear of walking the streets alone. She was an Auror; it was everyone else that needed to fear.
She had worked late at the Ministry, finishing paper work, and without realizing how late it was, sighed when she realized that her work was cutting into her long, highly anticipated weekend. She had no plans except to stay at home and relaxing on her lumpy couch, watching a few films she had missed over the summer.
Home was a poky flat not far from Grimmauld Place and the Potters, and she preferred walking off her work thoughts by trekking the fifteen blocks from the Tube station. Harry thought she was insane; the neighborhood between the station and Grimmauld Place was shady even during the daylight hours. All the same, Hermione walked, her boots tapping against the damp pavement, wet from a cold early winter drizzle in London.
Turning a corner, Hermione caught sight of the dog out of the corner of her amber eye. It was a large dog, and in the dark between streetlights, its eyes glowed fathomless silver. Hermione quickened her pace, smelling rain on the air over the scent of garbage and pollution.
She was five blocks from her flat when a car passed slowly, indistinct faces peering at her for a moment before speeding off again. Hermione paid no mind and continued down the street.
The sound of a bottle clattering in a nearby alley gave her pause to swivel her head around to see that dog was closer on her heels. Hermione slipped her wand from the sleeve of her long coat and let the handle rest in her palm. She had learned long ago that some things are not always what they appear to be.
The fact that the dog reminded her very much of Padfoot do not go unnoted either. Padfoot was dead, however, but there were plenty of other unregistered animagus who wished her ill. Escaped Death Eaters, for starters.
Crossing the street, Hermione further quickened her pace only to find the large, wet dog was closer, almost shadowing her steps.
If it were simply a dog, surely it would have lost interest in her by thirteen blocks?
Hermione bit her lip, knowing that soon she would have to cross the street again and from there her flat was just down the street. The dog was still following, its paws in step with her footfalls.
It could not be an ordinary dog.
It was then Hermione cast a small lighting spell, a diversionary tactic all Aurors knew, and blinded the dog while she jumped into a narrow space between apartment buildings where she could Apparate without notice by the Muggles.
She heard the dog yelp sharply as the light blazed bright and she slipped into the alley. However, before she could begin to prepare to Apparate, two large hands grasped her shoulders, using the leather of her coat to slam her into the wall of the alley. The strength of the hands forced throwing her body pushed air from her lungs and smacked the back of her head into the wall.
However, leaning just inches away in the narrow space, was a dark figure whose eyes burned into her face.
The soft patter of rain upon the street outside the alley distracted the figure for a moment, and Hermione took her chance, slipping back out to the street—her head aching, but the image of the living room of her flat clear. She began to move to Apparate…
…only to find herself on the alley floor, laying on old newspapers and greasy fish wrappers.
The rain came harder as she stared up in the near darkness of the alley.
“Y-you…” she gasped, her breath still not coming as easily as it should.
Her limbs were paralyzed with shock, but her eyes moved to study a familiar face.
When he kissed her, Hermione’s brain was screaming at her to breathe. His hands touched her face and hair, not caring about the rain or the smell of filth in the alley.
Hermione began coughing for air when his lips pulled away. He helped her to sit up, rubbing damp circles into her back, pulling away rubbish from her riotous hair. When she could breathe again, her limbs working again, she moved.
Hermione could feel the rain pelting the tops of her head and shoulders, but her wand tip was pointed into the throat of the man she straddled. She did not care if she was heavy, but she did care that she had pinned his hands to his sides, sitting on the man’s stomach, her knees pressing down into the insides of his elbows. His discomfort was clear in the darkness.
“You died. You cannot be here, and if you make a move, I will curse your fucking head off!” she roared.
Sirius Black lay still on the alley floor, his hair, inky and thick, well groomed even in the rain. His face was only little changed from what Hermione remembered the last time she had seen him alive. Even his clothing was fine, his heavy fur line coat expensive. Sirius Black, if it were indeed, Sirius Black, could only stare up at Hermione Granger, an expression of mirth on his lips.
“Who are you?” Hermione asked even though she could not deny Sirius Black lay pinned beneath her.
He did not answer, but closed his eyes slowly as Hermione’s body shifted downward so that she could release some of the pressure off his arms. Hermione could feel his warmth; feel his heartbeat against her thighs as they were wrapped about his ribs. He was real, he was alive.
“Tell me!” she shouted, digging her wand into his pulse point.
He opened his eyes again, and gently shook his head mutely. He opened his mouth to speak, and though words formed form his lips, no sound came out. In the dark she could not read his lips properly, but as her hand moved to clutch his throat, she could feel air moving in his throat, but the rumble of sound that usually accompanied speaking was absent.
Hermione sighed, pulling her wand away, sitting back against Sirius Black, causing his face to flush and his eyes shut again.
“You were the dog?”
Sirius nodded once.
Hermione shifted again, and Sirius sighed sharply.
Quickly, Hermione stood, backing away from the man who looked like Sirius Black towards the mouth of the alley. Only Sirius Black could transform into such a familiar animagus…
Hermione shouted as she was once again pulled deeper into the alley, the rain making the rubbish within stink about her. Sirius embraced her in such a manner that alarmed Hermione—one hand about her hips, pressing her against him, the other about her shoulders to press her breasts against his chest.
The rain fell in torrents over them, but Hermione could not pull free. Instead, she began considering what she should do.
Author: ianthe_waiting
Rating: T
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: None
Summary: #66 – Rain. Rain pelted her head and shoulders, but she ignored it.
Word Count: 1,210 words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words. Suggested by elawvu3.
Prompt 66 – Rain
The dog had been following her since the Tube station. Hermione Granger had noted the large dark dog, a breed that reminded her of a wolfhound, but with darker fur. It was late, too late for any self-possessing young woman to be on the streets so late. However, Hermione Granger had no fear of walking the streets alone. She was an Auror; it was everyone else that needed to fear.
She had worked late at the Ministry, finishing paper work, and without realizing how late it was, sighed when she realized that her work was cutting into her long, highly anticipated weekend. She had no plans except to stay at home and relaxing on her lumpy couch, watching a few films she had missed over the summer.
Home was a poky flat not far from Grimmauld Place and the Potters, and she preferred walking off her work thoughts by trekking the fifteen blocks from the Tube station. Harry thought she was insane; the neighborhood between the station and Grimmauld Place was shady even during the daylight hours. All the same, Hermione walked, her boots tapping against the damp pavement, wet from a cold early winter drizzle in London.
Turning a corner, Hermione caught sight of the dog out of the corner of her amber eye. It was a large dog, and in the dark between streetlights, its eyes glowed fathomless silver. Hermione quickened her pace, smelling rain on the air over the scent of garbage and pollution.
She was five blocks from her flat when a car passed slowly, indistinct faces peering at her for a moment before speeding off again. Hermione paid no mind and continued down the street.
The sound of a bottle clattering in a nearby alley gave her pause to swivel her head around to see that dog was closer on her heels. Hermione slipped her wand from the sleeve of her long coat and let the handle rest in her palm. She had learned long ago that some things are not always what they appear to be.
The fact that the dog reminded her very much of Padfoot do not go unnoted either. Padfoot was dead, however, but there were plenty of other unregistered animagus who wished her ill. Escaped Death Eaters, for starters.
Crossing the street, Hermione further quickened her pace only to find the large, wet dog was closer, almost shadowing her steps.
If it were simply a dog, surely it would have lost interest in her by thirteen blocks?
Hermione bit her lip, knowing that soon she would have to cross the street again and from there her flat was just down the street. The dog was still following, its paws in step with her footfalls.
It could not be an ordinary dog.
It was then Hermione cast a small lighting spell, a diversionary tactic all Aurors knew, and blinded the dog while she jumped into a narrow space between apartment buildings where she could Apparate without notice by the Muggles.
She heard the dog yelp sharply as the light blazed bright and she slipped into the alley. However, before she could begin to prepare to Apparate, two large hands grasped her shoulders, using the leather of her coat to slam her into the wall of the alley. The strength of the hands forced throwing her body pushed air from her lungs and smacked the back of her head into the wall.
However, leaning just inches away in the narrow space, was a dark figure whose eyes burned into her face.
The soft patter of rain upon the street outside the alley distracted the figure for a moment, and Hermione took her chance, slipping back out to the street—her head aching, but the image of the living room of her flat clear. She began to move to Apparate…
…only to find herself on the alley floor, laying on old newspapers and greasy fish wrappers.
The rain came harder as she stared up in the near darkness of the alley.
“Y-you…” she gasped, her breath still not coming as easily as it should.
Her limbs were paralyzed with shock, but her eyes moved to study a familiar face.
When he kissed her, Hermione’s brain was screaming at her to breathe. His hands touched her face and hair, not caring about the rain or the smell of filth in the alley.
Hermione began coughing for air when his lips pulled away. He helped her to sit up, rubbing damp circles into her back, pulling away rubbish from her riotous hair. When she could breathe again, her limbs working again, she moved.
Hermione could feel the rain pelting the tops of her head and shoulders, but her wand tip was pointed into the throat of the man she straddled. She did not care if she was heavy, but she did care that she had pinned his hands to his sides, sitting on the man’s stomach, her knees pressing down into the insides of his elbows. His discomfort was clear in the darkness.
“You died. You cannot be here, and if you make a move, I will curse your fucking head off!” she roared.
Sirius Black lay still on the alley floor, his hair, inky and thick, well groomed even in the rain. His face was only little changed from what Hermione remembered the last time she had seen him alive. Even his clothing was fine, his heavy fur line coat expensive. Sirius Black, if it were indeed, Sirius Black, could only stare up at Hermione Granger, an expression of mirth on his lips.
“Who are you?” Hermione asked even though she could not deny Sirius Black lay pinned beneath her.
He did not answer, but closed his eyes slowly as Hermione’s body shifted downward so that she could release some of the pressure off his arms. Hermione could feel his warmth; feel his heartbeat against her thighs as they were wrapped about his ribs. He was real, he was alive.
“Tell me!” she shouted, digging her wand into his pulse point.
He opened his eyes again, and gently shook his head mutely. He opened his mouth to speak, and though words formed form his lips, no sound came out. In the dark she could not read his lips properly, but as her hand moved to clutch his throat, she could feel air moving in his throat, but the rumble of sound that usually accompanied speaking was absent.
Hermione sighed, pulling her wand away, sitting back against Sirius Black, causing his face to flush and his eyes shut again.
“You were the dog?”
Sirius nodded once.
Hermione shifted again, and Sirius sighed sharply.
Quickly, Hermione stood, backing away from the man who looked like Sirius Black towards the mouth of the alley. Only Sirius Black could transform into such a familiar animagus…
Hermione shouted as she was once again pulled deeper into the alley, the rain making the rubbish within stink about her. Sirius embraced her in such a manner that alarmed Hermione—one hand about her hips, pressing her against him, the other about her shoulders to press her breasts against his chest.
The rain fell in torrents over them, but Hermione could not pull free. Instead, she began considering what she should do.