(no subject)
Author: Irisri
Title: Superstitious
Rating: PG
Summary: Hermione's getting married, but she doesn't believe in superstition... so she doesn't go with the flow. What happens to that marriage?
Pairing: Draco/Hermione
Prompt: Superstition
Prompts Complete: 22/100
Words: 1,097
Disclaimer: HP Isn’t mine.
“She drives me crazy!” Hermione yelled as she threw her hat roughly on the dragon-skin couch in Draco’s living room. “She told me, she told me, that if I didn’t have something old, something borrowed, something blue, and something new at my wedding it would be a complete disaster!”
Draco sipped his wine as he watched Hermione throw a bottle of lip gloss at a vase that had been in his family for three generations. Not that he was worried about it, Hermione had been coming over to his house after some little thing had happened and destroyed more than half his things, later using Repairo on everything she’d so much as cracked or dented, for more than three years.
“Well, you could tell her to fuck off,” he pointed out.
She threw him a dirty look. “Shut up, Malfoy!” she snarled.
He smirked. “PMS is a bitch, isn’t it, Granger?”
She gasped in outrage before throwing a vase at him. He ducked, scowling as he heard the vase hit the wall.
He stalked up to her, glowering. “Alright, Granger,” he snarled. “Sit.” He pushed her down on the couch. He sat down on the far end and put his feet on her knees, crossing them at the ankles only to have them pushed off from their comfortable foot-rest.
“So what’s this all about?” he asked.
“Luna,” Hermione huffed. “She-“
“Told you have something B.O.N.B,” he replied.
“-at my wedding!”
“So?” he asked. “What’s the problem?”
“I don’t have something old! And I can’t even remember the last time I wore blue!”
“Merlin forbids you wear Ravenclaw colors,” Draco muttered.
“No, I just look awful in it.”
She let out a defeated sigh and scooted over to lay her head on Draco’s shoulder.
“You wore it at the Yuletide Ball,” Draco said finally.
“What?” she asked, confused.
“In our forth year,” he clarified. “You wore a blue dress.”
A pause. “So?”
“So, you didn’t look bad in that,” Draco said. “Besides, you just have to have something blue, you don’t have to wear it. You can tuck a hankie under your corset or bodice or whatever your wearing, or slip it above the veil, or---“
“Yeah, I get it,” Hermione interrupted. “It’s stupid though! That’s all superstition. I don’t believe in it! My mother and father were married in a courthouse in jeans and toothpaste-covered shirts, and they’re still married.”
“So you’re not going to do it?”
“Nope,” she replied. “Wanna watch the wireless?”
“Well, I do say, you’re starting to sound like an American more every day.”
She smiled and closed her eyes. “Well, I’m marrying one, aren’t I?”
Five Years Later
Hermione gripped the lapel of her coat, trying to keep the frosty wind from cutting through to her skin. Her hair was going to be tangled, she thought. It would be impossible to brush through, even lightly.
She kept her head down, trying to keep her body warm. Which is why she didn’t see the man in front of her… and they crashed into each other.
“Oh, excuse---Draco!” She threw her arms around him. “God, I’ve missed you!”
She felt him stiffen, and quickly let go. “Uh,” she said. “How are you?”
“Fine,” he replied blandly. “You sound American, Granger.”
“It’s from living there, Draco,” she said, trying to force herself to laugh.
He offered a small smile, though she could see no humor in it.
A few moments of uncomfortable silence followed.
Finally, “What are you doing back?”
She felt her face crumple and fought the tears that rose in her eyes. “Can---can we go to your place?” she asked in a small voice.
He nodded, before gripping her arms and pulling her close and Apparating them.
“So?” he asked after they’d gotten to his flat. He wasted no time in putting space between them, pushing her away instantly, and flicking his wand towards a tea kettle, which started steaming immediately.
She gripped her coat, pulling it tighter around her. “We’re getting a divorce,” she said finally.
“Guess Luna was right,” Draco muttered.
“What?”
“I said, I guess Luna was right.”
“About what?” Hermione demanded.
“About the whole B.O.N.B thing. You know, your marriage is coming to an end. Why? Because you didn’t take her advice.”
He said it simply, but to Hermione’s ears, the words were jumbled, even though she understood their meaning.
“You’ve gone mad too?” she yelled.
He shrugged. “I see you’re still PMSing, Granger,” he replied coolly.
She stalked up to him and slapped him, hard. “It’s none of your business,” she hissed.
He grabbed her arms and pushed her against the wall roughly. “I’m sick of your bullshit, Granger,” he snarled. “Make up your mind! Friend or Enemy, what?!”
She glared at him with utmost anger. At least until she noticed how close their bodies were. She looked down to see him pressed against her, from chest to knee. “Back up, now.” She commanded.
He didn’t seem to be paying attention to her though. Well, he was paying attention to her… just not the way she wanted him to.
Draco’s eyes were set fixedly on her lips.
“Draco,” she whispered. “No.”
He didn’t listen though, instead touching her lips lightly with his, rubbing them against each other slightly and slipping the tip of his tongue out to wet her lips. He felt her breathe softly, as if she was scared.
“I won’t hurt you,” he whispered to her. She trembled. “But I want to kiss you.” And he did. He kissed her a lot, and she kissed back, after a while.
Two Years Later
“You have to, Hermione!”
Hermione sighed, but looked in the mirror, thinking about the past seven years.
“Oh, alright!” She said, trying to sound exasperated. “Get the something’s B.O.N.B.!”
Luna squealed and flung a blanket off a seat, revealing a hankie, a necklace, a not-yet bloomed flower, and a ribbon.
“Alright, the flower is the something new, the hankie belonged to my grandmother, the ribbon is a new one I bought for myself a few months ago, and the necklace is sapphires, and those are blue, so I think we’re all set!”
Three Hours Later
Hermione was nervous as she walked down the long aisle towards her to-be-husband. What if it didn’t work? What if they didn’t stay in love? What if---
And her thoughts were cut off by her fiance’s smirk. She walked up beside him and he whispered, “Thought you weren’t superstitious.”
She smiled, and leaned over, whispering back, “I’m not taking any chances.”
Title: Superstitious
Rating: PG
Summary: Hermione's getting married, but she doesn't believe in superstition... so she doesn't go with the flow. What happens to that marriage?
Pairing: Draco/Hermione
Prompt: Superstition
Prompts Complete: 22/100
Words: 1,097
Disclaimer: HP Isn’t mine.
“She drives me crazy!” Hermione yelled as she threw her hat roughly on the dragon-skin couch in Draco’s living room. “She told me, she told me, that if I didn’t have something old, something borrowed, something blue, and something new at my wedding it would be a complete disaster!”
Draco sipped his wine as he watched Hermione throw a bottle of lip gloss at a vase that had been in his family for three generations. Not that he was worried about it, Hermione had been coming over to his house after some little thing had happened and destroyed more than half his things, later using Repairo on everything she’d so much as cracked or dented, for more than three years.
“Well, you could tell her to fuck off,” he pointed out.
She threw him a dirty look. “Shut up, Malfoy!” she snarled.
He smirked. “PMS is a bitch, isn’t it, Granger?”
She gasped in outrage before throwing a vase at him. He ducked, scowling as he heard the vase hit the wall.
He stalked up to her, glowering. “Alright, Granger,” he snarled. “Sit.” He pushed her down on the couch. He sat down on the far end and put his feet on her knees, crossing them at the ankles only to have them pushed off from their comfortable foot-rest.
“So what’s this all about?” he asked.
“Luna,” Hermione huffed. “She-“
“Told you have something B.O.N.B,” he replied.
“-at my wedding!”
“So?” he asked. “What’s the problem?”
“I don’t have something old! And I can’t even remember the last time I wore blue!”
“Merlin forbids you wear Ravenclaw colors,” Draco muttered.
“No, I just look awful in it.”
She let out a defeated sigh and scooted over to lay her head on Draco’s shoulder.
“You wore it at the Yuletide Ball,” Draco said finally.
“What?” she asked, confused.
“In our forth year,” he clarified. “You wore a blue dress.”
A pause. “So?”
“So, you didn’t look bad in that,” Draco said. “Besides, you just have to have something blue, you don’t have to wear it. You can tuck a hankie under your corset or bodice or whatever your wearing, or slip it above the veil, or---“
“Yeah, I get it,” Hermione interrupted. “It’s stupid though! That’s all superstition. I don’t believe in it! My mother and father were married in a courthouse in jeans and toothpaste-covered shirts, and they’re still married.”
“So you’re not going to do it?”
“Nope,” she replied. “Wanna watch the wireless?”
“Well, I do say, you’re starting to sound like an American more every day.”
She smiled and closed her eyes. “Well, I’m marrying one, aren’t I?”
Five Years Later
Hermione gripped the lapel of her coat, trying to keep the frosty wind from cutting through to her skin. Her hair was going to be tangled, she thought. It would be impossible to brush through, even lightly.
She kept her head down, trying to keep her body warm. Which is why she didn’t see the man in front of her… and they crashed into each other.
“Oh, excuse---Draco!” She threw her arms around him. “God, I’ve missed you!”
She felt him stiffen, and quickly let go. “Uh,” she said. “How are you?”
“Fine,” he replied blandly. “You sound American, Granger.”
“It’s from living there, Draco,” she said, trying to force herself to laugh.
He offered a small smile, though she could see no humor in it.
A few moments of uncomfortable silence followed.
Finally, “What are you doing back?”
She felt her face crumple and fought the tears that rose in her eyes. “Can---can we go to your place?” she asked in a small voice.
He nodded, before gripping her arms and pulling her close and Apparating them.
“So?” he asked after they’d gotten to his flat. He wasted no time in putting space between them, pushing her away instantly, and flicking his wand towards a tea kettle, which started steaming immediately.
She gripped her coat, pulling it tighter around her. “We’re getting a divorce,” she said finally.
“Guess Luna was right,” Draco muttered.
“What?”
“I said, I guess Luna was right.”
“About what?” Hermione demanded.
“About the whole B.O.N.B thing. You know, your marriage is coming to an end. Why? Because you didn’t take her advice.”
He said it simply, but to Hermione’s ears, the words were jumbled, even though she understood their meaning.
“You’ve gone mad too?” she yelled.
He shrugged. “I see you’re still PMSing, Granger,” he replied coolly.
She stalked up to him and slapped him, hard. “It’s none of your business,” she hissed.
He grabbed her arms and pushed her against the wall roughly. “I’m sick of your bullshit, Granger,” he snarled. “Make up your mind! Friend or Enemy, what?!”
She glared at him with utmost anger. At least until she noticed how close their bodies were. She looked down to see him pressed against her, from chest to knee. “Back up, now.” She commanded.
He didn’t seem to be paying attention to her though. Well, he was paying attention to her… just not the way she wanted him to.
Draco’s eyes were set fixedly on her lips.
“Draco,” she whispered. “No.”
He didn’t listen though, instead touching her lips lightly with his, rubbing them against each other slightly and slipping the tip of his tongue out to wet her lips. He felt her breathe softly, as if she was scared.
“I won’t hurt you,” he whispered to her. She trembled. “But I want to kiss you.” And he did. He kissed her a lot, and she kissed back, after a while.
Two Years Later
“You have to, Hermione!”
Hermione sighed, but looked in the mirror, thinking about the past seven years.
“Oh, alright!” She said, trying to sound exasperated. “Get the something’s B.O.N.B.!”
Luna squealed and flung a blanket off a seat, revealing a hankie, a necklace, a not-yet bloomed flower, and a ribbon.
“Alright, the flower is the something new, the hankie belonged to my grandmother, the ribbon is a new one I bought for myself a few months ago, and the necklace is sapphires, and those are blue, so I think we’re all set!”
Three Hours Later
Hermione was nervous as she walked down the long aisle towards her to-be-husband. What if it didn’t work? What if they didn’t stay in love? What if---
And her thoughts were cut off by her fiance’s smirk. She walked up beside him and he whispered, “Thought you weren’t superstitious.”
She smiled, and leaned over, whispering back, “I’m not taking any chances.”