100 Moments
folder
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
11,626
Reviews:
52
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
11,626
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.
Love
Title: Love
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: Insinuations
Summary: #84 – Love. Cedric would have her love him, even if it were only danger that pushed them together.
Word Count: 1,115 words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words. Companion piece to #75 – Shade, #78 – Lies, and #30 – Death.
Prompt 84 – Love
His jaw still stung even after a few hours. Harry Potter had vicious right hook, and Cedric supposed he deserved it. However, his fist hurt him worse than his jaw, and he knew that at least two of his fingers were broken. It had been a while since he had used his fists on another person, but as much as Cedric deserved the right hook, Harry Potter deserved the broken nose and jaw.
Hermione Granger was whimpering, as she placed purple healing salve on the cut above her blackened eye in the hotel room in South Kensington. Cedric lay across the foot of the bed, staring at the muted Muggle television, trying to read the newscaster’s lips.
“Mother…” she growled, the rest of the expletive disappearing in the sound of a running tap.
Cedric sat up slowly, glancing to the window of the room and to the mirror on the wall. The bruise on his jaw would fade, Hermione having slathered a yellow salve on his face. However, the swelling had yet to go down.
Meeting Harry Potter again after a decade and half of being dead went very much as Cedric expected it to—badly.
Returning to Britain was not a mistake, but still Cedric insisted on glamours to obscure his features. He was not about to shock his old friends and family, and he was not even sure how he was going to approach his parents, if at all.
Cedric Diggory thought of himself as a coward.
He was not, of course. He had stayed away for the safety of his old friends and family, and it seemed that he could not reveal himself even after Voldemort’s defeat.
“…fucker!” he heard her say as the tap went off.
He sighed, rising to his bare feet, and padding across the room to the en suite lavatory. What he saw made him grind his teeth and caused his jaw to tinge painfully.
Hermione was nude except for a pair of pale blue knickers, her hair pulled up in a hasty bun, using her wand to heal her face in the mirror. There were bruises on her back, her thighs, and her hips.
Fighting cloaked men in an alley in Knightsbridge after the confrontation with Potter, had proven to Cedric that he still could drop a man with a powerful Stunner, as well as fight under physical duress with a bruised jaw and broken fingers. Even more, Hermione was wickedly precise with a cutting Curse that he did not recognize, Sectum-somethng.
Studying the bruises where she had been slammed into the ground with a Stunner, and hexed, Cedric was struck at how beautiful she had looked with blood running down her face, eye blackened. She was like a warrior queen, something wild and powerful.
“Ced, can you pass me a bandage? They’re on the edge of the bathtub.”
He sighed, moving to the open box with Muggle adhesive bandages, grabbing one, and moving to stand behind her. In the mirror, he could see that the cut above her eye was not healing fast enough even with the salve. She tore open the paper to place a bandage over her left brow, frowning at him in the mirror.
“This is not how I expected things to go,” she sighed, turning slowly to lean back into the sink.
Cedric lifted his chin as her nipples brushed his bare chest. He wondered if she were so comfortable to allow him to see her half nude. It made him slightly uncomfortable, in a good way. He could feel his cock twitch in his trousers.
She had stripped his shirt away not long after returning to the hotel room to see to his ribs, which were not broken as she first thought, but definitely bruised. There was yellow salve on his skin there as well.
“I suppose you expected it?” she asked, glancing up into my eyes.
Cedric wanted to touch her face, run his thumb over the blackened and bruised skin of her left eye.
“I expected something,” he mumbled.
She blinked her eyes away, turning stiffly to take her wand up and then step around into the bedroom.
“Let’s see to that hand.”
Cedric followed soon after, finding that she had donned a robe, sitting on the foot of the bed. He sat next to her, giving her his right hand, the knuckles bloody and bruised. As she began to heal the bones and skin, he studied her closely. Despite the bruises, the way the half open robe fell over her breasts and her thighs made his cock twitch again.
She had defended him to Potter, and had taken a blow to the face meant for him. That alone caused mixed feelings. He was capable of defending himself, and in that case, he was angry with Hermione. However, the fact she had stood up to Potter, calling him things that would have made Voldemort blush, it made Cedric’s insides swell.
The right hook to her face was what caused Cedric to pummel Potter into the ground. Boy-Who-Lived, whatever, Cedric was not going to allow Potter to hurt the woman who was holding his hand, undressed, bruised, and beautiful.
He loved her.
It was irrational, he knew, but he learned long ago not to deny his feelings. He loved her the moment he saw her in Venice. Granted, he had been afraid of her at first, but he was drawn to her. Hermione Granger could make him do anything if she asked, that was why he was in Britain again—she had asked.
“I think that will do it,” she whispered, the healing spell ending.
Cedric licked his lips; Hermione was still holding his hand.
She kissed him tentatively, gently, avoiding the bruised corner of his mouth and the foul tasting salve.
“I was wrong,” she whispered, pulling away to stare into his grey eyes. “You were right…maybe I should not have gone off on a self-righteous tirade to drag you back… The dan—“
He kissed her again, pulling his sore hand from her hand to wrap about the backside of her neck. He could taste blood, but was not sure whose it was. Either way, it was sweet to him.
Danger be damned, he thought, he had lived too safely for too long. He was in love, and that, in itself, was danger.
Hermione hummed into his mouth, her hands against his chest, sliding up to wrap her arms about his neck. Cedric wondered, idly, whom Hermione Granger loved. Could she love him?
He grasped her right breast, pushing the robe aside.
Cedric would have her love him, even if it were only danger that pushed them together.
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: Insinuations
Summary: #84 – Love. Cedric would have her love him, even if it were only danger that pushed them together.
Word Count: 1,115 words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words. Companion piece to #75 – Shade, #78 – Lies, and #30 – Death.
Prompt 84 – Love
His jaw still stung even after a few hours. Harry Potter had vicious right hook, and Cedric supposed he deserved it. However, his fist hurt him worse than his jaw, and he knew that at least two of his fingers were broken. It had been a while since he had used his fists on another person, but as much as Cedric deserved the right hook, Harry Potter deserved the broken nose and jaw.
Hermione Granger was whimpering, as she placed purple healing salve on the cut above her blackened eye in the hotel room in South Kensington. Cedric lay across the foot of the bed, staring at the muted Muggle television, trying to read the newscaster’s lips.
“Mother…” she growled, the rest of the expletive disappearing in the sound of a running tap.
Cedric sat up slowly, glancing to the window of the room and to the mirror on the wall. The bruise on his jaw would fade, Hermione having slathered a yellow salve on his face. However, the swelling had yet to go down.
Meeting Harry Potter again after a decade and half of being dead went very much as Cedric expected it to—badly.
Returning to Britain was not a mistake, but still Cedric insisted on glamours to obscure his features. He was not about to shock his old friends and family, and he was not even sure how he was going to approach his parents, if at all.
Cedric Diggory thought of himself as a coward.
He was not, of course. He had stayed away for the safety of his old friends and family, and it seemed that he could not reveal himself even after Voldemort’s defeat.
“…fucker!” he heard her say as the tap went off.
He sighed, rising to his bare feet, and padding across the room to the en suite lavatory. What he saw made him grind his teeth and caused his jaw to tinge painfully.
Hermione was nude except for a pair of pale blue knickers, her hair pulled up in a hasty bun, using her wand to heal her face in the mirror. There were bruises on her back, her thighs, and her hips.
Fighting cloaked men in an alley in Knightsbridge after the confrontation with Potter, had proven to Cedric that he still could drop a man with a powerful Stunner, as well as fight under physical duress with a bruised jaw and broken fingers. Even more, Hermione was wickedly precise with a cutting Curse that he did not recognize, Sectum-somethng.
Studying the bruises where she had been slammed into the ground with a Stunner, and hexed, Cedric was struck at how beautiful she had looked with blood running down her face, eye blackened. She was like a warrior queen, something wild and powerful.
“Ced, can you pass me a bandage? They’re on the edge of the bathtub.”
He sighed, moving to the open box with Muggle adhesive bandages, grabbing one, and moving to stand behind her. In the mirror, he could see that the cut above her eye was not healing fast enough even with the salve. She tore open the paper to place a bandage over her left brow, frowning at him in the mirror.
“This is not how I expected things to go,” she sighed, turning slowly to lean back into the sink.
Cedric lifted his chin as her nipples brushed his bare chest. He wondered if she were so comfortable to allow him to see her half nude. It made him slightly uncomfortable, in a good way. He could feel his cock twitch in his trousers.
She had stripped his shirt away not long after returning to the hotel room to see to his ribs, which were not broken as she first thought, but definitely bruised. There was yellow salve on his skin there as well.
“I suppose you expected it?” she asked, glancing up into my eyes.
Cedric wanted to touch her face, run his thumb over the blackened and bruised skin of her left eye.
“I expected something,” he mumbled.
She blinked her eyes away, turning stiffly to take her wand up and then step around into the bedroom.
“Let’s see to that hand.”
Cedric followed soon after, finding that she had donned a robe, sitting on the foot of the bed. He sat next to her, giving her his right hand, the knuckles bloody and bruised. As she began to heal the bones and skin, he studied her closely. Despite the bruises, the way the half open robe fell over her breasts and her thighs made his cock twitch again.
She had defended him to Potter, and had taken a blow to the face meant for him. That alone caused mixed feelings. He was capable of defending himself, and in that case, he was angry with Hermione. However, the fact she had stood up to Potter, calling him things that would have made Voldemort blush, it made Cedric’s insides swell.
The right hook to her face was what caused Cedric to pummel Potter into the ground. Boy-Who-Lived, whatever, Cedric was not going to allow Potter to hurt the woman who was holding his hand, undressed, bruised, and beautiful.
He loved her.
It was irrational, he knew, but he learned long ago not to deny his feelings. He loved her the moment he saw her in Venice. Granted, he had been afraid of her at first, but he was drawn to her. Hermione Granger could make him do anything if she asked, that was why he was in Britain again—she had asked.
“I think that will do it,” she whispered, the healing spell ending.
Cedric licked his lips; Hermione was still holding his hand.
She kissed him tentatively, gently, avoiding the bruised corner of his mouth and the foul tasting salve.
“I was wrong,” she whispered, pulling away to stare into his grey eyes. “You were right…maybe I should not have gone off on a self-righteous tirade to drag you back… The dan—“
He kissed her again, pulling his sore hand from her hand to wrap about the backside of her neck. He could taste blood, but was not sure whose it was. Either way, it was sweet to him.
Danger be damned, he thought, he had lived too safely for too long. He was in love, and that, in itself, was danger.
Hermione hummed into his mouth, her hands against his chest, sliding up to wrap her arms about his neck. Cedric wondered, idly, whom Hermione Granger loved. Could she love him?
He grasped her right breast, pushing the robe aside.
Cedric would have her love him, even if it were only danger that pushed them together.