100 Moments
folder
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
10,665
Reviews:
52
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
10,665
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.
Light
Title: Light
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: #73 – Light. In the light, he touched her as if to defy the day.
Word Count: 691 words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words. A later aside for WGWD.
Prompt 73 – Light
It was as if a veil was pulled away from the sky, and the light forced him to squint to be able to see clearly without his eyes watering. After months of no Muggle cars, factories, or pollution, the sun seemed to shine brighter over Britain. Of course, the heavy, fresh snowfall made the light far more intense, the sun gleaming in a cloudless winter sky and reflecting off the Highland mountains and fields.
His boots crunched over the perfect snow, his cheeks and nose cold from the occasional gust of icy winds off the bare mountains. In his hand, he held her mitten-clad fingers tightly as they trudged to the place that held special meaning to them. It was the inn that they had made love, and realized, for the first time, how lucky they had been to find each other.
“I suppose no one will mind if we move in,” she said, her amber eyes flashing like new galleons in the light.
“I suppose not,” he conceded, eyes moving to the snow-covered house, the white painted exterior nearly camouflaging the house completely.
Strathfillian House near Tyndrum had once been a Manse, he learned from his companion, and converted later on into the bed and breakfast. She wanted to come back and settle there.
Charlie Weasley had no objections, seeing the house again with better eyes, his mind not laden with worries about survival. In the shadow of the entryway, he knocked the snow from his boots as Hermione Granger drew her wand from her arctic coat and cleaned away the small drift of snow from the front door.
The inside of the house was cold, as was expected. It had been cold when they were there last. However, as Charlie shut the old, oaken door behind him, he let his eyes wander the small foyer, taking in the house with proper eyes. This house had been the place where he had healed after nearly dying from a fall off a railroad truss.
Hermione was almost giddy as she showed him the kitchens, with tins still on the central table where she had pulled them out. She showed him the refurbished dining area and the front rooms lit with bright sunlight. She showed him the upstairs, and lastly the room they had inhabited during their stay. The only trace of their stay was a stained teacup on a small table under the window.
“We can change the rooms as we see fit, lay some wards…”
They stood in the brightly lit room, and Charlie ran his numb fingers through his hair.
“One thing at a time…” he said softly, moving to the cold grate and slipping his wand from his coat sleeve to lay a fire.
Between the light and the fire, Charlie warmed quickly. Hermione was lost in thought, chewing her lip silently, her hair glowing a caramel colour from the lit window behind her. Charlie smirked, sitting on the bed and unbuttoning his coat. Her hair had finally grown out a bit since she lopped it off in July. It was early February. In her heavy snow boots, overlarge blue arctic wear coat and mittens, she looked silly, girlish. Charlie’s smirk turned into a smile.
“Enough of worrying that lip,” he purred, his hand snapping out to grasp her wrist and pull her to the bed.
Hermione made a sound between a shriek and a gasp, and soon Charlie was peeling away her winter clothing to find her skin glowing gold in the light. He paid little mind to the scars on her body, the pale purple marks that magic would not Vanish away. He paid little mind to her wide eyes and the shiver that passed through her from the remnants of the cool air in the room. Instead, he paid homage to her mouth and throat.
A year of a new world was on the verge of passing, Charlie knew, and he was having a hard time remembering the world before. Hermione Granger was all he knew then, and from that point onward.
In the light, he touched her, brazenly, as if to defy the day.
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: #73 – Light. In the light, he touched her as if to defy the day.
Word Count: 691 words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words. A later aside for WGWD.
Prompt 73 – Light
It was as if a veil was pulled away from the sky, and the light forced him to squint to be able to see clearly without his eyes watering. After months of no Muggle cars, factories, or pollution, the sun seemed to shine brighter over Britain. Of course, the heavy, fresh snowfall made the light far more intense, the sun gleaming in a cloudless winter sky and reflecting off the Highland mountains and fields.
His boots crunched over the perfect snow, his cheeks and nose cold from the occasional gust of icy winds off the bare mountains. In his hand, he held her mitten-clad fingers tightly as they trudged to the place that held special meaning to them. It was the inn that they had made love, and realized, for the first time, how lucky they had been to find each other.
“I suppose no one will mind if we move in,” she said, her amber eyes flashing like new galleons in the light.
“I suppose not,” he conceded, eyes moving to the snow-covered house, the white painted exterior nearly camouflaging the house completely.
Strathfillian House near Tyndrum had once been a Manse, he learned from his companion, and converted later on into the bed and breakfast. She wanted to come back and settle there.
Charlie Weasley had no objections, seeing the house again with better eyes, his mind not laden with worries about survival. In the shadow of the entryway, he knocked the snow from his boots as Hermione Granger drew her wand from her arctic coat and cleaned away the small drift of snow from the front door.
The inside of the house was cold, as was expected. It had been cold when they were there last. However, as Charlie shut the old, oaken door behind him, he let his eyes wander the small foyer, taking in the house with proper eyes. This house had been the place where he had healed after nearly dying from a fall off a railroad truss.
Hermione was almost giddy as she showed him the kitchens, with tins still on the central table where she had pulled them out. She showed him the refurbished dining area and the front rooms lit with bright sunlight. She showed him the upstairs, and lastly the room they had inhabited during their stay. The only trace of their stay was a stained teacup on a small table under the window.
“We can change the rooms as we see fit, lay some wards…”
They stood in the brightly lit room, and Charlie ran his numb fingers through his hair.
“One thing at a time…” he said softly, moving to the cold grate and slipping his wand from his coat sleeve to lay a fire.
Between the light and the fire, Charlie warmed quickly. Hermione was lost in thought, chewing her lip silently, her hair glowing a caramel colour from the lit window behind her. Charlie smirked, sitting on the bed and unbuttoning his coat. Her hair had finally grown out a bit since she lopped it off in July. It was early February. In her heavy snow boots, overlarge blue arctic wear coat and mittens, she looked silly, girlish. Charlie’s smirk turned into a smile.
“Enough of worrying that lip,” he purred, his hand snapping out to grasp her wrist and pull her to the bed.
Hermione made a sound between a shriek and a gasp, and soon Charlie was peeling away her winter clothing to find her skin glowing gold in the light. He paid little mind to the scars on her body, the pale purple marks that magic would not Vanish away. He paid little mind to her wide eyes and the shiver that passed through her from the remnants of the cool air in the room. Instead, he paid homage to her mouth and throat.
A year of a new world was on the verge of passing, Charlie knew, and he was having a hard time remembering the world before. Hermione Granger was all he knew then, and from that point onward.
In the light, he touched her, brazenly, as if to defy the day.