Possessions
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
30,861
Reviews:
10
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
30,861
Reviews:
10
Recommended:
1
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.
Possessions
Title: Possessions
Pairing: Dumbledore/Ginny (HP)
Warnings: Underage, oh so very underage. Ginny is 11. Yes, I know. If it offends, please don\'t read.
Rating: Very NC-17 overall, although not in this part.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, I am making no money from this venture, and I *in no way* condone any of the actions taken in this fic. It\'s fantasy, and nothing more, okay? If you have a problem with this, please do us all a favour and don\'t read it.
In any normal life, it is only to be expected that a willwill accumulate possessions, unless he is a monk or practising the art of poverty for other aesthetic or accidental reasons. Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and Order of Merlin (First Class), had lived a rather longer than average life already, and as a consequence had shelves and cupboards crammed with countless essential gadgets, things that \'might come in handy one day\', and more than a few years worth of thoughtful – if not immediately useful - Christmas gifts.
A small army of house elves kept the dozens of tiny metallic surfaces polished, but delicate magical instruments needed years of expertise and careful handling to maintain full working efficiency, so every week the Headmaster would devote an afternoon to their examination and appreciation. Occasionally he would find a use for one or more and they would hum and spin into life to perform whatever service he wished; but useful or not he would enjhe ahe afternoon in their company, the sun on their gleaming surfaces, shining gold and ethereal silver for his pleasure and amusement.
His newest and greatest treasure however, was a unique work of art – a gift from an old, dear friend. Arthur had not said so, of course, not in so many words, but his smile and the possessive arm around the treasure had spoken volumes.
\"She\'ll be up at Hogwarts next year. I know you\'ll take good care of her, Albus.\"
An ordinary, somewhat sulky freckled face framed with red hair at first glance; a girl where the otheasleasleys had been boys but otherwise little to differentiate her from her brothers. Then the small face lifted upwards to gaze at her proud father, and the old man\'s heart skipped as the yellowing afternoon sun glinted on burnished copper hair, leaving him speechless at the enormity of the gift offered to him.
\"It will be my pleasure, Arthur. Truly, a pleasure.\"
And it had been.
He wasn\'t sure which of them had trembled the most that first time. Him at first, probably. She had been too wide-eyed at the bewildering array of spinning gadgets and gleaming instruments, nodding politely as he pointed out interesting items and recounted their history. He remembered his hands were shaking when he led her along the shelves to point out one of his more interesting gadgets, his fingertips stroking it with real reverence as he explained.
\"And this of course, is a Mesmerball. Now, I know what 're 're thinking, but if I just set it moving…\"
He nudged the shimmering glass ball with a long bony finger, and smiled in genuine pleasure to see the girl\'s eyes light up at the tinkle of music and the sparkling golden spheres inside the spun glass shell.
His hands had stopped trembling by the time she staggered to a chair and looked around with a startled lack of recognition.
\"Where am I?\" Panic tinged her high, clear voice, and Dumbledore hastened to reassure her.
\"You\'re quite safe, my dear.\" His hands held her firmly by the shoulders, fingers squeezing gently. \"Just relax now.\"
Gradually the tension left her thin shoulders, and as the long fingers stroked their magic up and down the sides of her neck, she allowed her head to fall back against the chair.
\"Are you tired? I think you must be a little sleepy.\" He allowed his voice to trickle the suggestion into her mind, and she nodded woozily.
\"Then it must be bedtime, Miss Weasley.\"
Ginny lifted her head to look uncertainly towards the windows, which still streamed daylight into the crowded room. She opened her mouth as if to speak, then paused, a small f of of confusion on her face.
\"Definitely bedtime.\" Dumbledore\'s voice was firm, despite the shiver that ran through him as her eyes lowered.
Only then was he certain she was going to succumb.
Pairing: Dumbledore/Ginny (HP)
Warnings: Underage, oh so very underage. Ginny is 11. Yes, I know. If it offends, please don\'t read.
Rating: Very NC-17 overall, although not in this part.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, I am making no money from this venture, and I *in no way* condone any of the actions taken in this fic. It\'s fantasy, and nothing more, okay? If you have a problem with this, please do us all a favour and don\'t read it.
In any normal life, it is only to be expected that a willwill accumulate possessions, unless he is a monk or practising the art of poverty for other aesthetic or accidental reasons. Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and Order of Merlin (First Class), had lived a rather longer than average life already, and as a consequence had shelves and cupboards crammed with countless essential gadgets, things that \'might come in handy one day\', and more than a few years worth of thoughtful – if not immediately useful - Christmas gifts.
A small army of house elves kept the dozens of tiny metallic surfaces polished, but delicate magical instruments needed years of expertise and careful handling to maintain full working efficiency, so every week the Headmaster would devote an afternoon to their examination and appreciation. Occasionally he would find a use for one or more and they would hum and spin into life to perform whatever service he wished; but useful or not he would enjhe ahe afternoon in their company, the sun on their gleaming surfaces, shining gold and ethereal silver for his pleasure and amusement.
His newest and greatest treasure however, was a unique work of art – a gift from an old, dear friend. Arthur had not said so, of course, not in so many words, but his smile and the possessive arm around the treasure had spoken volumes.
\"She\'ll be up at Hogwarts next year. I know you\'ll take good care of her, Albus.\"
An ordinary, somewhat sulky freckled face framed with red hair at first glance; a girl where the otheasleasleys had been boys but otherwise little to differentiate her from her brothers. Then the small face lifted upwards to gaze at her proud father, and the old man\'s heart skipped as the yellowing afternoon sun glinted on burnished copper hair, leaving him speechless at the enormity of the gift offered to him.
\"It will be my pleasure, Arthur. Truly, a pleasure.\"
And it had been.
He wasn\'t sure which of them had trembled the most that first time. Him at first, probably. She had been too wide-eyed at the bewildering array of spinning gadgets and gleaming instruments, nodding politely as he pointed out interesting items and recounted their history. He remembered his hands were shaking when he led her along the shelves to point out one of his more interesting gadgets, his fingertips stroking it with real reverence as he explained.
\"And this of course, is a Mesmerball. Now, I know what 're 're thinking, but if I just set it moving…\"
He nudged the shimmering glass ball with a long bony finger, and smiled in genuine pleasure to see the girl\'s eyes light up at the tinkle of music and the sparkling golden spheres inside the spun glass shell.
His hands had stopped trembling by the time she staggered to a chair and looked around with a startled lack of recognition.
\"Where am I?\" Panic tinged her high, clear voice, and Dumbledore hastened to reassure her.
\"You\'re quite safe, my dear.\" His hands held her firmly by the shoulders, fingers squeezing gently. \"Just relax now.\"
Gradually the tension left her thin shoulders, and as the long fingers stroked their magic up and down the sides of her neck, she allowed her head to fall back against the chair.
\"Are you tired? I think you must be a little sleepy.\" He allowed his voice to trickle the suggestion into her mind, and she nodded woozily.
\"Then it must be bedtime, Miss Weasley.\"
Ginny lifted her head to look uncertainly towards the windows, which still streamed daylight into the crowded room. She opened her mouth as if to speak, then paused, a small f of of confusion on her face.
\"Definitely bedtime.\" Dumbledore\'s voice was firm, despite the shiver that ran through him as her eyes lowered.
Only then was he certain she was going to succumb.