Ten Thousand Words Chapter 3
Author: yourebrilliant
Beta: the_willows
Rating: G/PG
Disclaimer: Nope, not mine.
Summary: If one picture tells a thousand words, what story could ten of them tell?
‘Murdered by a gold-digger wife,’ Hermione suggested.
I rolled my eyes. ‘Hermione, it was a pureblood marriage, she’d be as rich as he was.’
‘Not if her family had fallen on hard times and her only choice was to marry this git,’ she responded, gesturing to the painting.
Harry and Ron were out on a mission again, having finally convinced the Order to let them help, which left Hermione - who had agreed to stay out of danger only after much shouting and threatened hexings - and myself - who was quite glad to stay out of sight since there was a price on my head - kicking about Grimmauld Place. When Hermione’s endless sighing and frowning had become in danger of driving me mad, I’d suggested checking out the attic to distract her. Everyone knows the most interesting things in a pureblood house are hidden in the attic.
‘Tragic broomstick accident,’ I declared, after a moment.
Hermione snorted. ‘He’s far to fat to get on a broomstick.’
‘That’s why it was tragic,’ I responded. ‘He was a Quidditch whiz in his youth, and then, years later, he was showing off to his children and his broomstick broke, catapulting him tragically to his death.’
Hermione was trying to suppress a fit of giggles by this stage, and I could feel the corners of my own mouth turning up. We’d discovered this painting in one of the dark corners of the attic. The painting could move but not speak, so we deduced that it had been put up here while awaiting repairs, and had been forgotten. Since the occupant couldn’t tell us, we’d been occupying ourselves by guessing the means of his demise.
‘Bumped off by his family to hide the shame of his forbidden love for their…’she was pausing for breath in between her laughter, ‘house…elf,’ she gasped.
I grimaced. ‘Hermione!’ I cried, covering my eyes in pain. ‘That’s disgusting! I’ll never get that image out of my brain!’ For all my genuine disgust at the thought, I could feel myself beginning to laugh. Peeking through my fingers, I asked, ‘Female house elf, or male?’
Hermione was laughing so hard she couldn’t speak. She was clutching her stomach, and gasping for breath, and the sight of it, combined with the conversation, was so funny that I couldn’t hold back the laughter any more. Composure be damned, I thought as I burst out laughing.
When our laughter finally subsided, she collapsed next to me on the floor, leaning companionably against my shoulder, and smiling at me.
‘That’s the first time I’ve heard you really laugh,’ she commented quietly.
‘And?’ I asked, suddenly tense with worry at what she would say.
‘You’ve got a nice laugh,’ she commented, leaning her head sleepily against my shoulder. Tentatively, I slid an arm around her waist, and she wriggled closer to me. She sighed quietly, a gust of breath drifting across my cheek. ‘Oh, all that laughing has made me tired,’ she muttered.
‘You could…go to sleep, if you want,’ I murmured, daringly stroking my fingers along her waist and marvelling that she trusted me this much.
‘Will you still be here when I wake up?’ she asked quietly.
‘Yes,’ I murmured, hoping it was the right response.
‘Okay,’ she said, making herself more comfortable, and closing her eyes.
I sat there for two hours, just listening to her soft, even breathing. When she woke, we went downstairs to find that Harry and Ron had returned from their mission. They watched me suspiciously when we appeared together from upstairs, but Hermione just thanked me and pressed a quick kiss to my cheek.
Before I could say anything, she hustled her boys away in case they tried to hex me, leaving me to stand in the hallway, touching my cheek and wondering what had just happened.
Chapter Four
Sneak Peek for Chapter Four
When I saw what was waiting for me, I stormed down the hall to find her. ‘No, Hermione,’ I said, standing in her bedroom doorway, waving the offending items in the air. ‘Just, no.’
Beta: the_willows
Rating: G/PG
Disclaimer: Nope, not mine.
Summary: If one picture tells a thousand words, what story could ten of them tell?
‘Murdered by a gold-digger wife,’ Hermione suggested.
I rolled my eyes. ‘Hermione, it was a pureblood marriage, she’d be as rich as he was.’
‘Not if her family had fallen on hard times and her only choice was to marry this git,’ she responded, gesturing to the painting.
Harry and Ron were out on a mission again, having finally convinced the Order to let them help, which left Hermione - who had agreed to stay out of danger only after much shouting and threatened hexings - and myself - who was quite glad to stay out of sight since there was a price on my head - kicking about Grimmauld Place. When Hermione’s endless sighing and frowning had become in danger of driving me mad, I’d suggested checking out the attic to distract her. Everyone knows the most interesting things in a pureblood house are hidden in the attic.
‘Tragic broomstick accident,’ I declared, after a moment.
Hermione snorted. ‘He’s far to fat to get on a broomstick.’
‘That’s why it was tragic,’ I responded. ‘He was a Quidditch whiz in his youth, and then, years later, he was showing off to his children and his broomstick broke, catapulting him tragically to his death.’
Hermione was trying to suppress a fit of giggles by this stage, and I could feel the corners of my own mouth turning up. We’d discovered this painting in one of the dark corners of the attic. The painting could move but not speak, so we deduced that it had been put up here while awaiting repairs, and had been forgotten. Since the occupant couldn’t tell us, we’d been occupying ourselves by guessing the means of his demise.
‘Bumped off by his family to hide the shame of his forbidden love for their…’she was pausing for breath in between her laughter, ‘house…elf,’ she gasped.
I grimaced. ‘Hermione!’ I cried, covering my eyes in pain. ‘That’s disgusting! I’ll never get that image out of my brain!’ For all my genuine disgust at the thought, I could feel myself beginning to laugh. Peeking through my fingers, I asked, ‘Female house elf, or male?’
Hermione was laughing so hard she couldn’t speak. She was clutching her stomach, and gasping for breath, and the sight of it, combined with the conversation, was so funny that I couldn’t hold back the laughter any more. Composure be damned, I thought as I burst out laughing.
When our laughter finally subsided, she collapsed next to me on the floor, leaning companionably against my shoulder, and smiling at me.
‘That’s the first time I’ve heard you really laugh,’ she commented quietly.
‘And?’ I asked, suddenly tense with worry at what she would say.
‘You’ve got a nice laugh,’ she commented, leaning her head sleepily against my shoulder. Tentatively, I slid an arm around her waist, and she wriggled closer to me. She sighed quietly, a gust of breath drifting across my cheek. ‘Oh, all that laughing has made me tired,’ she muttered.
‘You could…go to sleep, if you want,’ I murmured, daringly stroking my fingers along her waist and marvelling that she trusted me this much.
‘Will you still be here when I wake up?’ she asked quietly.
‘Yes,’ I murmured, hoping it was the right response.
‘Okay,’ she said, making herself more comfortable, and closing her eyes.
I sat there for two hours, just listening to her soft, even breathing. When she woke, we went downstairs to find that Harry and Ron had returned from their mission. They watched me suspiciously when we appeared together from upstairs, but Hermione just thanked me and pressed a quick kiss to my cheek.
Before I could say anything, she hustled her boys away in case they tried to hex me, leaving me to stand in the hallway, touching my cheek and wondering what had just happened.
Chapter Four
Sneak Peek for Chapter Four
When I saw what was waiting for me, I stormed down the hall to find her. ‘No, Hermione,’ I said, standing in her bedroom doorway, waving the offending items in the air. ‘Just, no.’