100 Moments
folder
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
11,640
Reviews:
52
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
11,640
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.
Found
Title: Found
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, Romance.
Warnings: Very AU!
Summary: #86 – Found. He had found them.
Word Count: 1,037 words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words. Companion to Prompts 4 and 7. Will be concluded in a future drabble.
Prompt 86 – Found
Harry had found her. Hermione stood in the doorway, just as she had four years before, her eyes not looking at Harry Potter’s face, but at the street outside. Four years ago, it had been a London street, now it was a Boston street.
She did not pull him inside, but stepped out of the way to allow him to enter into her old Victorian house set into the corner of an old neighborhood just outside the city. Boston had been her home, it had been her everything since she began working with the American Confederation of Magic as a lawyer…
Shutting the door behind her, Hermione turned, and moved into the living room, past the television, the couch, and into the kitchen. Harry followed closely.
It was nearly sunset, and Hermione had been preparing dinner. Spaghetti and meatballs, garlic bread and a tossed salad. She resumed stirring the sauce and meatballs as Harry took a seat upon a stool next to the centre kitchen island.
“You look well,” he said softly, and she could feel his eyes move up her the backs of her bare legs, she was dressed in a pair of what she called ‘lay-about’ shorts and a tank top.
Four years had changed her, her hair was different, her body different. She was still attractive, but fuller, more substantial with defined muscles. Hermione had learned early the love of the American gyms, and went regularly.
“You have a nice home…”
Hermione dropped the wooden spoon she had been using on the counter, moving away from the stove to stare at her old friend…and lover.
“How did you find me?” she hissed, her palms slapping against the island counter.
Harry’s face drained of colour and he cast his eyes away from her. He had changed little, only his glasses were different…square rimmed. He wore Muggle clothes, but the leather jacket was the same. He looked fit, even his skin seemed browner than she remembered. A part of Hermione longed to touch him, but she was far too concerned with how and why he was sitting in her kitchen.
“I…uh…I asked Neville.”
Hermione sighed. She had not meant to make it a secret that she was leaving Britain, surely Ron or Harry would stop her…but when they didn’t, Hermione had told her one close remaining friend where she was going…but not why.
“Four years to the day, you decide to show up on my doorstep,” Hermione muttered, noting that Harry was still wearing a wedding band while her own hand was bare. “Why? Why now?”
She was yelling, and distantly she heard a bump upstairs, and winced.
“You never came back, I couldn’t find you. I looked the best I could considering…” Harry mumbled before raising his emerald eyes to her face.
Hermione stood straighter, crossing her arms before her breasts. “So what happened now? Ginny angry at you for some stupid reason?”
Bile. She was uttering bile, but she could not help it. Never once an owl, never once a call…from either of her friends.
Harry smirked. “No. Nothing like that.”
He rose from his stool, and before Hermione could attempt to fight, she was in his arms, kissing her…
It had always been like this, Hermione knew. Harry taking what he wanted. She wanted to melt into the kiss, hold him close, but…
Harry stumbled back as a slap knocked him away, knocking his glasses off his face so that they skidded across the tiled kitchen floor and into the living room. There was blood at the corner of his mouth, and Harry’s eyes were wide with shock as he held his jaw.
“Mummy?”
Hermione gasped, her hand moving to support herself against the counter. Her eyes moved past Harry to the small figure standing through the archway into the living room…a figure who bent to pick up a pair of square framed glasses.
Harry quickly wiped the blood from his mouth and turned to see a little boy dressed in a pair of denims, and a Boston Red Sox tee shirt holding his glasses between his small fingers. Before Harry could take a step forward, Hermione flew with otherworldly grace to kneel beside the boy.
“Are you getting hungry, luv?” Hermione cooed, smoothing the boy’s unruly black hair.
The boy nodded, but stared at Harry, his hand reaching out to give Harry his glasses.
Harry’s body shook as he studied the boy. From the unruly black hair, to the strange amber/green eyes, Hermione’s lips…his nose…
“This is an old friend of Mummy’s…he was just leaving,” Hermione explained. “Harry Potter…you remember me telling you?”
The boy’s face lit up, mouth opening in amazement, jewel-like eyes flickering with light.
Harry took the glasses and reapplied them to his face, his vision sharper. The boy was small, but healthy…and looked very much like his own son back in Britain, who was a year younger.
“Go into the kitchen and sit, I’ll have dinner in a moment, luv,” Hermione whispered.
The boy smiled at Harry one last time before moving past him in an excited run. Hermione climbed to her bare feet and sighed. With a motion of her fingers, Harry followed her to the front door.
“Don’t…” she hissed as Harry reached for her, his mouth opening to speak. “Not now. Tomorrow afternoon. Sev will be at school then.”
Harry frowned. “Severus?”
Hermione smirked, pleased that Harry seemed uncomfortable. “Sev. After your mother’s first friend?”
Harry closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head. He said no goodbyes and Hermione showed him the door, and when he was through, she locked the door behind her.
Hermione watched through the peephole as Harry walked across the porch and down the steps to the sidewalk, in a daze.
He had found her, and she knew that Harry had not expected in the least what he would find after four years.
“Mummy, the pot is boiling over again!” her son’s voice called from the kitchen.
Hermione groaned, and jogged to uncover the boiling pot of spaghetti, smiling to her son, who was sitting at the kitchen table, feet dangling over the floor, kicking merrily.
Harry had found them, and Hermione wondered what he would do next.
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, Romance.
Warnings: Very AU!
Summary: #86 – Found. He had found them.
Word Count: 1,037 words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words. Companion to Prompts 4 and 7. Will be concluded in a future drabble.
Prompt 86 – Found
Harry had found her. Hermione stood in the doorway, just as she had four years before, her eyes not looking at Harry Potter’s face, but at the street outside. Four years ago, it had been a London street, now it was a Boston street.
She did not pull him inside, but stepped out of the way to allow him to enter into her old Victorian house set into the corner of an old neighborhood just outside the city. Boston had been her home, it had been her everything since she began working with the American Confederation of Magic as a lawyer…
Shutting the door behind her, Hermione turned, and moved into the living room, past the television, the couch, and into the kitchen. Harry followed closely.
It was nearly sunset, and Hermione had been preparing dinner. Spaghetti and meatballs, garlic bread and a tossed salad. She resumed stirring the sauce and meatballs as Harry took a seat upon a stool next to the centre kitchen island.
“You look well,” he said softly, and she could feel his eyes move up her the backs of her bare legs, she was dressed in a pair of what she called ‘lay-about’ shorts and a tank top.
Four years had changed her, her hair was different, her body different. She was still attractive, but fuller, more substantial with defined muscles. Hermione had learned early the love of the American gyms, and went regularly.
“You have a nice home…”
Hermione dropped the wooden spoon she had been using on the counter, moving away from the stove to stare at her old friend…and lover.
“How did you find me?” she hissed, her palms slapping against the island counter.
Harry’s face drained of colour and he cast his eyes away from her. He had changed little, only his glasses were different…square rimmed. He wore Muggle clothes, but the leather jacket was the same. He looked fit, even his skin seemed browner than she remembered. A part of Hermione longed to touch him, but she was far too concerned with how and why he was sitting in her kitchen.
“I…uh…I asked Neville.”
Hermione sighed. She had not meant to make it a secret that she was leaving Britain, surely Ron or Harry would stop her…but when they didn’t, Hermione had told her one close remaining friend where she was going…but not why.
“Four years to the day, you decide to show up on my doorstep,” Hermione muttered, noting that Harry was still wearing a wedding band while her own hand was bare. “Why? Why now?”
She was yelling, and distantly she heard a bump upstairs, and winced.
“You never came back, I couldn’t find you. I looked the best I could considering…” Harry mumbled before raising his emerald eyes to her face.
Hermione stood straighter, crossing her arms before her breasts. “So what happened now? Ginny angry at you for some stupid reason?”
Bile. She was uttering bile, but she could not help it. Never once an owl, never once a call…from either of her friends.
Harry smirked. “No. Nothing like that.”
He rose from his stool, and before Hermione could attempt to fight, she was in his arms, kissing her…
It had always been like this, Hermione knew. Harry taking what he wanted. She wanted to melt into the kiss, hold him close, but…
Harry stumbled back as a slap knocked him away, knocking his glasses off his face so that they skidded across the tiled kitchen floor and into the living room. There was blood at the corner of his mouth, and Harry’s eyes were wide with shock as he held his jaw.
“Mummy?”
Hermione gasped, her hand moving to support herself against the counter. Her eyes moved past Harry to the small figure standing through the archway into the living room…a figure who bent to pick up a pair of square framed glasses.
Harry quickly wiped the blood from his mouth and turned to see a little boy dressed in a pair of denims, and a Boston Red Sox tee shirt holding his glasses between his small fingers. Before Harry could take a step forward, Hermione flew with otherworldly grace to kneel beside the boy.
“Are you getting hungry, luv?” Hermione cooed, smoothing the boy’s unruly black hair.
The boy nodded, but stared at Harry, his hand reaching out to give Harry his glasses.
Harry’s body shook as he studied the boy. From the unruly black hair, to the strange amber/green eyes, Hermione’s lips…his nose…
“This is an old friend of Mummy’s…he was just leaving,” Hermione explained. “Harry Potter…you remember me telling you?”
The boy’s face lit up, mouth opening in amazement, jewel-like eyes flickering with light.
Harry took the glasses and reapplied them to his face, his vision sharper. The boy was small, but healthy…and looked very much like his own son back in Britain, who was a year younger.
“Go into the kitchen and sit, I’ll have dinner in a moment, luv,” Hermione whispered.
The boy smiled at Harry one last time before moving past him in an excited run. Hermione climbed to her bare feet and sighed. With a motion of her fingers, Harry followed her to the front door.
“Don’t…” she hissed as Harry reached for her, his mouth opening to speak. “Not now. Tomorrow afternoon. Sev will be at school then.”
Harry frowned. “Severus?”
Hermione smirked, pleased that Harry seemed uncomfortable. “Sev. After your mother’s first friend?”
Harry closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head. He said no goodbyes and Hermione showed him the door, and when he was through, she locked the door behind her.
Hermione watched through the peephole as Harry walked across the porch and down the steps to the sidewalk, in a daze.
He had found her, and she knew that Harry had not expected in the least what he would find after four years.
“Mummy, the pot is boiling over again!” her son’s voice called from the kitchen.
Hermione groaned, and jogged to uncover the boiling pot of spaghetti, smiling to her son, who was sitting at the kitchen table, feet dangling over the floor, kicking merrily.
Harry had found them, and Hermione wondered what he would do next.