(no subject)
Aug. 2nd, 2005 06:11 pmAm finally registered in all my classes. Go me.
Am slightly confused, as there are a few (large) stories vying in my mind to be written: the DLM one, Detective Frannie Vecchio, the latest Emma piece, a Firefly war story, the 1987 O11 one, that piece for the Fandom Which Must Not Be Named...
This has led to a logjam in my brain, so I am taking requests for drabble (I promise at least a drabble) and/or icons.
That's right, get your drabble and/or icons here.
I think you all know fandomwise. XM, dS, DLM, HP, O11, LXG, CSI, Alias, Firefly, Eternal Sunshine, Disney, PotC, Dogma, Power Play... I'd try DCU, SV, the Fandom That Must Not Be Named, or pretty much anything else you throw at me.
Fandom, media (fic/icon), prompt (optional).
Please?
Am slightly confused, as there are a few (large) stories vying in my mind to be written: the DLM one, Detective Frannie Vecchio, the latest Emma piece, a Firefly war story, the 1987 O11 one, that piece for the Fandom Which Must Not Be Named...
This has led to a logjam in my brain, so I am taking requests for drabble (I promise at least a drabble) and/or icons.
That's right, get your drabble and/or icons here.
I think you all know fandomwise. XM, dS, DLM, HP, O11, LXG, CSI, Alias, Firefly, Eternal Sunshine, Disney, PotC, Dogma, Power Play... I'd try DCU, SV, the Fandom That Must Not Be Named, or pretty much anything else you throw at me.
Fandom, media (fic/icon), prompt (optional).
Please?
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-03 05:00 am (UTC)Quidditch at the Weasley's. Hermione reading a book. Hr/Fred.
*whistles*
;)
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-04 12:26 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-06 11:04 pm (UTC)Hermione is sitting on the Weasley's back porch in the shade, feet drawn up onto the bench and neck pressed against the cool side of the house. Her hair is piled haphazardly on top of her head and pieces have drifted down to stick to her skin. There's a book propped up in her lap, leather bound and heavy. The parchment is warm beneath her fingers.
"Hello, Fred," she says, eyes still running across the words, and the presence at her side drops down easily beside her.
"That was quite impressive," he says, draping his arms across the back of the bench. "You didn't even look."
"You limp a bit, when you walk," Hermione tells him. Traces a line with her fingers, mouths an incantation without giving it voice. "Not much. Mostly only when the weather or humidity's changed. If you try a new product out on me, I'll make you very sorry."
"Huh," Fred says, watching as his brother almost falls off of his broom. "Broke my leg jumping off the roof when I was eight. Bill was supposed to be watching us, but he'd gone into town to meet a girl. George was even more frantic than I was."
"Trying to fly?" she asks with the ghost of a smile.
"Thought I could, actually," he says. "I'd been trying to make a charm that would make a magic carpet for months. Thought I finally had it right. Some of the charm from the carpet stuck to me, and there were complications with the mediwizard. Doesn't bother me much any more."
She looks up from her book then, reminded once against that a lot of the things he and George sell at their shop really are quite impressive.
He's looking at her, smile wry and self-depreciative, and she realizes she must be gaping a little. Blushing, she starts to stammer, but he just shakes his head and grins.
He's used to it, she realizes, and Hermione of all people knows what it's like to have everyone think only one thing about you.
"Right," he says, and tips his head at her. "This has been lovely."
She grabs his wrist as he starts to rise. His skin is sticky in the heat. "I was expelled from school when I was seven," she says. "A boy from school used to call me names, which I was used to, but he started in on this boy from India. Just a little kid, barely spoke English."
Fred sits down again, but she doesn't let go. "I broke his nose. The bully's."
He blinks at her, and a grin spreads across his face. "Our little Hermione is a spitfire," he says, and gooses her lightly.
"Stop that," she says, and bats his hand away. In the sky, Ron and Harry are still laughing. They're her best friends, but there are some things they just can't understand.
"What are you reading?" Fred asks finally, pulls the book from her hands.
"A treatise on forms unspoken magic has taken throughout the ages," she tells him, and smiles when he nods and starts to read.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-09 01:07 am (UTC)