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rarepair_shorts2010-02-17 02:48 pm
rarepairs_mod) wrote in rarepair_shorts2010-02-17 02:48 pm
Fics for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
bk03
Author: restlessme
Recipient:bk03
Pairing: Lavender Brown/Harry Potter
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: Really hoping you enjoy this series of drabbles.
~*~*~*~
Title: Not Quite the Same
Word Count: 305
Summary: She really never is the same after Fenrir Greyback, though she’s nowhere as bad as Bill Weasley (the talk of the town for quite awhile).
She really never is the same after Fenrir Greyback, though she’s nowhere as bad as Bill Weasley (the talk of the town for quite awhile). She wasn’t bitten by the werewolf reduced to cannibalistic tendencies and she has Hermione to thank for that. A somewhat ironic thanks, she thinks at times.
The scars of his nails digging into her skin as he spat upon her are covered by long skirts and loose trousers. The haunting expressions of a man gone mad are burned into the back of her eyelids, so deep that not even a dreamless draught can fully scare away the nightmares. Oh yes, she thanks Hermione Granger, thanks her so much she could cry from the pity she knows is there.
She dreams of toppling off of the balcony, all air ripped out of her lungs as she lies on the ground. Tears will sting her eyes as his hands twitch along her legs, nails digging bloody paths. She dreams of silently praying that it will be quick and just maybe she won’t have enough time to scream. But scream she does, even more when his breath is hot upon her neck and she spasms against the ground. The bright ray of light (magic she distantly recalls) blinds her as air surges through her lungs. As she gasps in air and hears the hollow crunch of a skull being crushed beneath something heavy. She dreams of leaning onto her side to see who’s actually saved her, locking gazes with a harshly breathing Hermione Granger and the man besides her.
She’s certain she’d dream of more if the world hadn’t blackened than, certain that perhaps she would have died that very night.
Lavender Brown never really is quiet the same after Fenrir Greyback; especially when he’s trapped her in a place she cannot escape.
Title: Stumble
Word Count: 302
Summary: He finds her in a park, a park full of laughing children and mostly noise.
He finds her in a park, a park full of laughing children and mostly noise. He finds himself thinking that of course Lavender would be here, she’d always been a child herself.
But the woman that turns to regard him with guarded hostility is a woman that makes his easy smile melt away. This is a woman of almost cruel beauty, he thinks to himself as he slides onto the bench besides her with a careful wave.
Lavender inclines her head in returned acknowledgement, curls dumping themselves over her shoulder as they often did. Her lips twitch in amusement as he continues to stare (both in confusion and wonderment).
“What could you possibly want from me? I mean you must want something, there’s not much need to come visit the crazy ex-girlfriend of your friend,” she questioned coldly, shoulders squared under the thick sweater she wore. He oddly remembers it from school suddenly, recalls something Ron had said about it being soft.
So he reaches his hand out to touch it, startled by the scream that leaves her throat. Blue eyes are wide with something akin to horror as she rasps out, “You’re not someone special anymore Harry, don’t you dare touch me.”
Words sputter past his lips as she gathers her things, gathering the stares of the occasional mother concerned by a young girl’s scream.
She leans down to pick up her bag, free hand furiously wiping at her face. Jade eyes glimpse angry red lines in the exposed skin between shirt and trousers. Feeling the cool air upon her hip, Lavender quickly stood, flinging the bag over her shoulder.
“If you come near me again Harry…let’s just say I’m not a nice person,” she warned, face wet. Raising his hand in short wave, he watched as Lavender Brown stumbled away.
Title: Clinging
Word Count: 345
Summary: Lavender Brown now lives in seclusion, a much different conclusion that what she once imagined.
Lavender Brown now lives in seclusion, a much different conclusion that what she once imagined. She imagined Ministry balls and a husband who would conquer the world only because he loved her that much.
She’s more than disappointed when she doesn’t get these things, really she is.
“What exactly are you doing here?” she questions, voice dripping with sarcasm. He’s come almost every day to bother her and won’t deny that now butterflies come with him. Butterflies that make her want to smile and hold him because just maybe he’ll be the man that can make the nightmares go away.
But she won’t.
He nervously fixes his glasses before stepping around her, further into her apartment. She’s started cleaning now that he comes so often, ashamed that he may just see what the war has created.
“Do you have nightmares every night?” Harry questions with such familiarity that Lavender’s smile dies on her face. Her legs give out beneath her and she finds herself sitting on the floor looking up at him. The world is closing in upon her and all she can see is his concerned face. He’s not supposed to know, no one’s supposed to know.
“It’s okay, really. I have nightmares too,” he whispered, crouching besides her. He doesn’t move to touch her and she’s not sure she wants him to (too many memories of horrible touch). Her fingers drag through her hair, shaking things that try to anchor her to Earth even as she floats above it all.
“He’s always there, all the time. I can’t escape him even if he’s dead,” she cried, sobbing into his shirt as she lurched forward. She digs her hands into his arms, just to make sure this is real (he’s real and not just another figment of her imagination; of a slowly cracking mind).
His hands twist in her hair, the bridge of his nose smashes against her own as he kisses her. Excitementlustfear grip her in a grip she’s never felt before, a new obsession that she clings to, to save from drowning.
restlessmeRecipient:
bk03Pairing: Lavender Brown/Harry Potter
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: Really hoping you enjoy this series of drabbles.
Title: Not Quite the Same
Word Count: 305
Summary: She really never is the same after Fenrir Greyback, though she’s nowhere as bad as Bill Weasley (the talk of the town for quite awhile).
She really never is the same after Fenrir Greyback, though she’s nowhere as bad as Bill Weasley (the talk of the town for quite awhile). She wasn’t bitten by the werewolf reduced to cannibalistic tendencies and she has Hermione to thank for that. A somewhat ironic thanks, she thinks at times.
The scars of his nails digging into her skin as he spat upon her are covered by long skirts and loose trousers. The haunting expressions of a man gone mad are burned into the back of her eyelids, so deep that not even a dreamless draught can fully scare away the nightmares. Oh yes, she thanks Hermione Granger, thanks her so much she could cry from the pity she knows is there.
She dreams of toppling off of the balcony, all air ripped out of her lungs as she lies on the ground. Tears will sting her eyes as his hands twitch along her legs, nails digging bloody paths. She dreams of silently praying that it will be quick and just maybe she won’t have enough time to scream. But scream she does, even more when his breath is hot upon her neck and she spasms against the ground. The bright ray of light (magic she distantly recalls) blinds her as air surges through her lungs. As she gasps in air and hears the hollow crunch of a skull being crushed beneath something heavy. She dreams of leaning onto her side to see who’s actually saved her, locking gazes with a harshly breathing Hermione Granger and the man besides her.
She’s certain she’d dream of more if the world hadn’t blackened than, certain that perhaps she would have died that very night.
Lavender Brown never really is quiet the same after Fenrir Greyback; especially when he’s trapped her in a place she cannot escape.
Title: Stumble
Word Count: 302
Summary: He finds her in a park, a park full of laughing children and mostly noise.
He finds her in a park, a park full of laughing children and mostly noise. He finds himself thinking that of course Lavender would be here, she’d always been a child herself.
But the woman that turns to regard him with guarded hostility is a woman that makes his easy smile melt away. This is a woman of almost cruel beauty, he thinks to himself as he slides onto the bench besides her with a careful wave.
Lavender inclines her head in returned acknowledgement, curls dumping themselves over her shoulder as they often did. Her lips twitch in amusement as he continues to stare (both in confusion and wonderment).
“What could you possibly want from me? I mean you must want something, there’s not much need to come visit the crazy ex-girlfriend of your friend,” she questioned coldly, shoulders squared under the thick sweater she wore. He oddly remembers it from school suddenly, recalls something Ron had said about it being soft.
So he reaches his hand out to touch it, startled by the scream that leaves her throat. Blue eyes are wide with something akin to horror as she rasps out, “You’re not someone special anymore Harry, don’t you dare touch me.”
Words sputter past his lips as she gathers her things, gathering the stares of the occasional mother concerned by a young girl’s scream.
She leans down to pick up her bag, free hand furiously wiping at her face. Jade eyes glimpse angry red lines in the exposed skin between shirt and trousers. Feeling the cool air upon her hip, Lavender quickly stood, flinging the bag over her shoulder.
“If you come near me again Harry…let’s just say I’m not a nice person,” she warned, face wet. Raising his hand in short wave, he watched as Lavender Brown stumbled away.
Title: Clinging
Word Count: 345
Summary: Lavender Brown now lives in seclusion, a much different conclusion that what she once imagined.
Lavender Brown now lives in seclusion, a much different conclusion that what she once imagined. She imagined Ministry balls and a husband who would conquer the world only because he loved her that much.
She’s more than disappointed when she doesn’t get these things, really she is.
“What exactly are you doing here?” she questions, voice dripping with sarcasm. He’s come almost every day to bother her and won’t deny that now butterflies come with him. Butterflies that make her want to smile and hold him because just maybe he’ll be the man that can make the nightmares go away.
But she won’t.
He nervously fixes his glasses before stepping around her, further into her apartment. She’s started cleaning now that he comes so often, ashamed that he may just see what the war has created.
“Do you have nightmares every night?” Harry questions with such familiarity that Lavender’s smile dies on her face. Her legs give out beneath her and she finds herself sitting on the floor looking up at him. The world is closing in upon her and all she can see is his concerned face. He’s not supposed to know, no one’s supposed to know.
“It’s okay, really. I have nightmares too,” he whispered, crouching besides her. He doesn’t move to touch her and she’s not sure she wants him to (too many memories of horrible touch). Her fingers drag through her hair, shaking things that try to anchor her to Earth even as she floats above it all.
“He’s always there, all the time. I can’t escape him even if he’s dead,” she cried, sobbing into his shirt as she lurched forward. She digs her hands into his arms, just to make sure this is real (he’s real and not just another figment of her imagination; of a slowly cracking mind).
His hands twist in her hair, the bridge of his nose smashes against her own as he kisses her. Excitementlustfear grip her in a grip she’s never felt before, a new obsession that she clings to, to save from drowning.
no subject
Really great!
no subject
no subject
no subject
Glad you liked it even though it was out of the normal for you.