May 2008 Fan Fiction Contest -Theme: Romance and/or Lust!

[AccioFunds]

May FanFiction Contest!
Theme: Romance/Lust

Contest is now closed to entries! Please vote in the poll for your Favorite!

Tra la! It's May!
The lusty month of May!
That lovely month when ev'ryone goes
Blissfully astray.
Tra la! It's here!
That shocking time of year
When tons of wicked little thoughts
Merrily appear!
It's May! It's May!
That gorgeous holiday
When ev'ry maiden prays that her lad
Will be a cad.....!

Tra la! It's here!
That shocking time of year
When tons of wicked little thoughts
Merrily appear....!

--From The Legend of the Origin of the Order of Merlin
(whose fame has even permeated to the Muggles where it is known as Camelot by Lerner and Lowe)

The theme this month is:
Romance/Lust/Romantic Hook-ups
Grand Prize: Choice of one: Wizard's Wand, Onyx Milady Surcoat, Raptor Fire Horns, Amethyst or Emerald Milady Skirt or Amethyst Milady Headpiece

Rules:

The story must fit with the Gaia TOS and involve one or more characters from the Harry Potter universe.

Original as well as "found" fictions accepted! Please don't have anything freakishly long.


1. Send 100 g entry free to AccioFunds
Include:
Your name
Name of Story
Which House you are in.
(You get 50g for your first post of the day in a Guild, so you can post in your Common Room, or in any of the Contests and you'll have the entry fee in 2 days).

One entry per member per month

5 points to you if you enter, with an additional 10 points if you win.

Keep in mind:
Spelling and grammar will count, so please spell-check and/or have someone beta read your story. Even if you didn't write it --please fix/correct spelling and grammar if the story needs it. Be sure to note that you edited the story, if you do so.

If you submit a story you wrote, say so. You can extra credit towards your score.

If you're submitting a story you didn't write, be sure to give a link to where you found it, and the author's name, and the name of where you found it. (Hint: Haven's Index sticky in the main Forum has links to some great Fan Fiction sites ).

If you choose to find a Fan Fic rather than write your own, please give full credit and link to the page. Keep everything PG-13. You are allowed to tweak a found fiction slightly, such as last month when Lucius didn't know who Merlin was. It would be ok to leave that line out, or to put in that Lucius wondered how a Muggle knew about Merlin.

Grading Rubric:
4 Prefect Points (if a prefect enters the contest, s/he doesn't vote)!
4 House Head Points
5 Points to the Winner of the Popular Vote
2 Points if it's an Original Story (You wrote it)
-1 point for spelling, chatspeak or grammar errors.

15 Possible Points; in case of a tie, we will have a numbers draw.


Post the stories here in this thread, not just a link to where you found them. You can post pictures with them. Be sure to say where you found the picture, and name the artist or copyright holder if possible.


The Way it works:

First Week of the Month: The theme for the month is given; we accept entries for three weeks. We are starting late this month, accepting stories May 11 through May 30.
Week Two: Accept entries.
Week Three: Accept entries; close at the end of week. Entries close midnight May 30. Voting begins May 31, ends June 6.
Week Four: Voting for the current theme commences; the next two or three themes are revealed. At the beginning of the next week, winners are announced and prizes are awarded. Winner for May will be announced between June 6 and 10th.

June theme: Opens June 1:
Wizarding Dads and/or Weddings!


July theme: Opens July 1: Cross-overs


Opens August 1: Alternate Universe Fiction!

 

[Minerva the Whore 4 Books]

Your name: Minerva the Whore 4 Books (Everybody knows me as Minerva)
Name of Story: Get One Thing Straight, I'm Not
Which House you are in: Gryffindor
Notes: I wrote this myself! whee I shortened it by a few chapters for this contest, so if you're interested in reading the entire thing it's on FanFiction.net My penname on that website is MinervaEvenstar. I know spelling counts, so I thought I should let you know that I'm a Brit and don't use American spelling. The is Sirius/Remus with James lusting after Lily on the side. wink It takes place in their fourth year, but because they aren't animagi yet that's pretty obvious. Without further ado, here it is:

Get One Thing Straight, I'm Not

"I'm incredibly attractive."

It was two o'clock in the morning and Sirius had awoken to do what he invariably did at that time; examine his perfection in the mirror.

"NO!" Remus screamed.

"What are you talking about?" demanded Sirius, stomping over to the werewolf's bed. "Of course I'm incredibly attra-" He stopped when he observed that Remus' eyes were shut and he must have shouted in his sleep. Sirius sighed and brushed the hair off his friend's sweaty face sympathetically. It was typical for Remus to have nightmares after transformation. Sirius longed for the day when he, James, and Peter could master their animagi skills and accompany him to the Shrieking Shack.

"Stop," Remus subconsciously pleaded.

Deciding to put Remus out of his misery, Sirius gently shook him awake.

Remus blinked his amber eyes open. "Siri?"

Sirius smiled. "Yeah?"

"Was I dreaming?" He looked around in confusion.

Sirius nodded.

"Thank Merlin," murmured Remus, leaning back against his pillow. This had been one of Remus' most terrifying nightmares, for his friends had all dyed their hair purple and had threatened to eat his precious chocolate if he didn't do the same. He shuddered and felt Sirius' strong arms wrap around him comfortingly. Remus began to snuggle into those arms when he realized what he was doing and abruptly pulled away. "I, uh, think I can get back to sleep now," he said awkwardly.

"Okay, g'night." Sirius stood up and comically blew his reflection a kiss before settling into his own four-poster.

I wouldn't mind giving him a snog, said a voice in the back of the lycanthrope's mind. He shook his head vigourously as if the physical action could banish the mental thought. Remus detested when unbidden romantic thoughts of Sirius invaded his brain. It was not the fact that Sirius was male that bothered him since he vividly recalled the time the previous year when Sirius announced his sexual preference.

"Let's get one thing straight." Sirius gazed at his fellow Marauders and took a deep breath.

"I'm not."

"Not what?" queried Peter.

"Straight."

Peter scratched his head in bewilderment. "So you're crooked?"

Sirius groaned in frustration.

James came to his rescue. "He's gay."

"Like happy?"

"No, he's homosexual."

"Oh." The chubby boy looked at Sirius. "Why?"

The limited amount of patience that Sirius had was running thin. "There isn't a 'why.' You're just born that way," he said through gritted teeth.

"Oh," Peter repeated. He appeared uncertain of how he should react to this confession, so he glanced over at James for guidance.

James looked satisfied with himself, like suspicions he'd had were confirmed. "It's all right, Sirius. I get less competition with the ladies this way," he joked.

"Yeah, it's no big deal," agreed Peter instantly.

Sirius sighed with relief and turned to Remus expectantly.

"I'm very proud of you for telling us," he stated honestly. If Remus was gay he knew that he would have difficulty admitting it, however, as far as he knew he fancied neither blokes nor ladies; he simply enjoyed spending time with his mates and reading his books.

Sirius seemed to be waiting for him to say more.

"Surely, you don't think that I mind?" laughed Remus. "You accept that I turn into a monster every month, so naturally I don't care that you prefer people who pee standing up instead of sitting down."

Appreciatively, Sirius slipped an arm around Remus' shoulders; Remus could always be depended upon for assessing a situation with a practical perspective. "Thanks. You lot are the best."

"We know," James solemnly replied. Despite the fact that this was a usual arrogant response from James he was wearing a smirk that suggested he realized something the rest of them did not while he looked a Remus and Sirius, which was not normal at all.

Now, a year later, Remus finally had developed a crush on someone. Sirius. The problem was that they were close friends, and Remus fervently attempted not to acknowledge his attraction in fear that it would endanger their friendship.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"I found the answer to all of my problems."

"Really, James?" Remus skeptically questioned during afternoon break while the boys sat in front of the common room fire.

"Well, maybe not all of my problems, but at least my problem with getting Evans to like me. It's so simple I can't believe I didn't see it before," replied James cheerfully.

"Leave her alone?" guessed Peter.

"Forget her and go out with someone else?" Sirius suggested.

"Start respecting the other students so she won't think you're a p***k?" hoped Remus.

James gaped at them. "Are you mad?"

"Yep," said Sirius.

Peter shrugged. "I dunno."

"I prefer the term mentally challenged," answered Remus.

"Well, you're all wrong," James continued, ignoring their responses. "The answer is..." He paused dramatically. "Poetry!"

"But you can't write poems," Remus pointed out.

"That's why you lot have to help me."

Peter concentrated hard. It looked like it hurt. Eventually he said,
"I love you,
I love you,
I love you divine.
Please, give me your bubble gum;
You're sitting on mine."

"Ooooh, I have a good one!" Sirius cackled maniacally.
"Roses are red,
Apples are sour,
Open your legs,
And I'll show you my power."

Remus silently counted to ten to prevent himself from blushing.

James was definitely not poetic, however, he at least had the sense to realise that either of those would have gotten him slapped across the face. "Are you trying to get me injured?"

"Yep," said Sirius.

Peter shrugged. "I dunno."

"I prefer the term physically wounded," answered Remus.

Disregarding the first two, James turned his attention to Remus. "You're sensitive and smart, so you must be able to write poetry."

"Yes, I can," Remus confessed. "But my powers can only be used for good."

"C'mon, Remus," James urged.

"Please," added Sirius, making his grey eyes look exactly like the ones of a begging puppy. "I really don't want ickele Jamesie-poo to get hurt. It takes too much time to break in a new best mate"

Remus sighed. It was difficult for him to deny James or Peter anything, but given the fact that his feelings for Sirius were less than platonic, it was impossible for him to deny Sirius. "All right." He took out his quill and parchment and in a matter of minutes handed James a completed poem.

Your crimson hair is like the sun,
Beautiful and bright.
Your green eyes are jewels,
Mysterious as the night.
Your smile, though, is the best of all,
And if you smiled at me it would give my life light.

Sirius gasped as he read over James' shoulder. "That's really good."

Remus beamed.

"It is," James agreed. "Remy, do you know what you are?"

"A werewolf?"

James had to admit that was true, yet it was not what he was thinking of. "I was gonna say a Quake-Sword."

"A Quake-Sword?"

"You know, that famous Muggle playwright."

"You mean Shakespeare?"

"That's what I said."

"Riiight..."

After reading the poem Peter blurted, "I think Remus fancies Evans."

"Why?" inquired James, who had a strong suspicion that Remus fancied an individual that was very different from Lily Evans.

Peter looked at Remus apologetically. "It's just that his poem about her is so romantic."

Remus chuckled, "I think I could write a romantic poem about anyone."

"Even Dumbledore?" quipped Sirius.

"Probably."

"Hmm," murmured James thoughtfully. "There's gotta be an idea for a prank in there somewhere."

"I'm sure there is," Sirius grinned. "But now we have to get to Potions."

On the way to the dungeons James whispered to Remus, "Could you write something romantic about Sirius?" James smirked with satisfaction as Remus' pale cheeks flushed slightly.

"I-I guess," Remus stated as calmly as he could.

I knew he fancied Sirius. I'm brilliant! James congratulated himself. I know Sirius fancies Remus too, but does Sirius know it yet?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sirius, James, and Peter were eating dinner in the Great Hall. Their professor with the disturbing mustache had kept the bookworm after class. When Remus dejectedly ambled in Sirius patted a seat next to him on the bench that he had saved. Remus bestowed him with a grateful smile and Sirius felt his stomach do the familiar flip that Remus' smiles invariably caused. He told himself it was natural to be glad when your friends were happy, yet he never experienced quite the same feeling when James or Peter were pleased and he could not explain the reason why.

"So, what did Old Sluggy want?" prompted James.

"I have to be tutored in Potions on Tuesdays and Fridays," Remus muttered and looked back down at his plate making his light brown hair fall in front of his face.

Sirius reached over and tucked Remus' hair behind his ear. He saw naught unusual about the gesture, so he did not comprehend why Remus blushed and James' hazel eyes twinkled knowingly in a Dumbledore-like way.

Peter had no reaction to Sirius' action (even though, scientifically, for every action there's supposed to be a reaction) as he asked, "Isn't today Friday?"

The others nodded.

"Your first tutoring session is today then. Who's your tutor?" Peter wondered.

"I don't know; Slughorn didn't say."

James gasped, "Then it could be anyone. It could even b-be-" He seemed unable to voice the horror that was running through his mind. Believe me, the horror got tired from all of that running.

"It's okay, you can say it. I've already considered almost every possibility," said Remus grimly, thinking of Snape.

James covered his face with his hands and whispered, "A bread crumb."

Remus blinked. "I must admit I never considered that." After dinner Remus returned to the dungeons and the others went up to the dorm.

Sirius was lying on his bed with his head where his feet should have been, staring at the ceiling as if lost in thought.

"Pete, go to the library and get us more books on animagi," ordered James.

Eager to please, Peter immediately departed.

Now that they were alone James questioned Sirius, "Are you thinking about Remus?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"Lucky guess," shrugged James casually. "So what are you thinking about him?"

"How I tucked back his hair; it's so soft. Don't smirk!"

"Sorry," he said, still smirking.

"No, you're not."

"I know."

"Why did you smirk anyway?"

"Well, haven't you noticed how much you touch Remus?"

"What do you mean?"

"You and me give each other high-fives after we pull a prank and when Pete is being a dolt you smack him in the head and that's it, but you play with Remus' hair every chance you get, you hug him after full moons, and you put your arm around him all the time."

Sirius mulled over his best friend's words. "I guess I do that."

"You do," agreed James firmly. "Do you know why?"

A few minutes passed before Sirius replied slowly, "I know that dealing with being a werewolf and the prejudices that go with it show that he's mentally strong, but physically he seems so; I don't know...delicate." Sirius' voice had grown wistful at the end of his answer.

James speculated that Sirius was visualising Remus as he said it. "Did you ever think that you might fancy him?"

Sirius burst out laughing. "Me fancy Remus? You're kidding, right?"

"I'm serious," replied James calmly.

"Actually, I'm Sirius."

"If you make that dumb pun one more time- Never mind. What would your perfect match be like?"

Sirius raised one eyebrow, something that made the other Marauders envious since they all had to raise both eyebrows, at the abrupt change of subject. "Someone who, um, completed me, I guess, by being things I'm not, like sensitive, patient, and responsible. Yes, James, I'm admitting that I'm irresponsible; just don't tell McGonagall. They'd have to have some of the same interests as me, though, or we'd have nothing to talk about...Oh, and it's important for them to like my mates," he added.

"You just described Remus," James bluntly pointed out.

Sirius opened his mouth to argue, but closed it again when he realised that what James claimed was entirely true. There was an awkward silence and Sirius despised them; therefore he broke it. "Well, fine, let's say I do fancy Remus. What do I do about it?"

"Ask him out," James responded, as if it should have been obvious.

Shaking his head, Sirius stated, "You know how he is. Someone can't just flirt with him out of nowhere. Besides, I don't even know which way he swings."

Before James had the opportunity to tell Sirius that he was certain Remus had a crush on him someone with flaming red hair burst through the door.

"Evans, you should've knocked. Someone could have been changing," Sirius mock reprimanded, oddly unperturbed by her random entrance. James was acting normal (Well, normal for him anyway.) however; Sirius could tell he was nervous by the hand that he was running through his untidy hair.

"That would have been traumatising," commented Lily tersely.

"Yeah, I'd be scarred for life."

"I meant traumatising for me." She shifted her attention to James. "It's you that I'm here to see."

James grinned, "I only wanted to go out with you, and you came right to my room. You sure move fast."

Sirius guffawed appreciatively.

Lily appeared as if she was exerting all of her self-restraint not to strike him. "Listen, all I want to know is why you snuck this in my bag." She shoved a piece of parchment under his nose.

"It's a poem I wrote for you."

"Ha! You wouldn't know poetry if it danced the hula in front of you! I know Remus wrote it; tell him I said he's sweet, and I want you, Potter, to remember that plagiarism is evil."

He did not deny the accusation. Instead, he remarked, "You have to be evil in order to live because evil is live spelled backwards."

"I don't even know what to say to something that stupid."

"Say you'll go out with me."

"Potter, stop it! I will NEVER go out with you!"

"Never is a long time."

“Not long enough when it comes to you!”

Sirius decided to leave them to their witty argument and go to meet Remus after his lesson.

On his way to the classroom to meet Remus he felt so elated that it was almost as if he could soar. Thoughts of Remus always affected him in this manner. Containing such joy was impossible for Sirius; therefore he began to skip, assuring himself that it was a very manly skip, to the dungeons.

He really hated it. Not the skipping, but not knowing why Remus made him feel this way; so special. Maybe James has a point. Besides the one on the top of his head. Maybe my feelings for Remus could run a little deeper than most.

When he arrived at the classroom the vision that greeted his eyes was Remus and another boy lying on the stone floor laughing. He had a powerful impulse to shout, though the impulse to get far away from the scene that was causing him pain was stronger. He bolted in the direction from whence he'd come.

"James!" Sirius bounded into the dorm.

"What's the matter?" He looked sullen; he had lost his argument with Lily, but he was used to that and refused himself to wallow in self-pity when Sirius needed him.

"I saw Remus with his tutor," muttered Sirius unhappily. "It was horrible."

"Why? Oh, wait, I know!" The light bulb could literally be seen going off above James' untidy head. "His tutor was something scarier than a bread crumb, like a pillowcase?"

"Nah, worse; it's a bloke that Remus seems fond of. You know the black one in the year above us with the deep voice? Yeah, him." He added, "At least now I know he swings that way."

"See, you're jealous. You want Remus, just admit it."

Despite his earlier contemplation he was about to again protest that he did not think of his fellow Marauder intimately when it dawned on him that the thought of anyone putting their hands on Remus in anything other than a friendly way did make his stomach boil with envy, however, the thought of himself touching Remus made him feel rather...Well, there was no other term for it: turned on. "Oh, all right, I do want Remus...in more ways than one."

"You must be wrong," James confidently told him.

"What? But you said-"

"I meant about Remus liking Kingsley."

"How do you know?"

"I figured out that you fancied Remus, didn't I? Well, I know that he fancies you too." I'm awesome like that. Why Evans doesn't worship me I'll never understand. Oh well, first things first: get the trouble maker and the bookworm together.

A smile brightened Sirius' attractive features. "That's great!" He paused. "Um, so what do I do now?"

The door opened before James could answer, revealing a cheerful Remus Lupin. James instructed Sirius simply, "Do whatever feels right." He exited the dorm, leaving his two comrades alone.

Remus glanced curiously between Sirius and the place where James had been standing. "What were you talking about?"

"Don't worry about it, Moony."

The lycanthrope raised his eyebrows. "Moony?"

"It's my new nickname for you. Do you like it?" Sirius crossed the room in four long strides so that he was standing very near to Remus. He realised doing this to his sensible friend was risky, yet it was widely known that recklessness was Sirius Black's specialty. "Moony," he repeated, experimenting how the name would sound with a purr. The innocent blush he received from Remus for a response made the blood heat up. He leaned his face closer to Remus' so that their noses almost touched and he could count all of the long eyelashes that framed Remus' intoxicating amber eyes.

Sirius moved no closer; he had done enough. If Remus was truly compelled to be more than friends, as James had claimed, then he would have to bridge the gap between them.

Remus hesitated and tentatively brushed his pale lips against Sirius' own, seemingly afraid that Sirius would pull away from him.

To reassure him Sirius returned the pressure against his lips and cupped Remus' head in his strong hands to deepen the kiss. Remus' was shy in the beginning, but soon the two tongues warred for dominance in the passionate kiss. There was an audible moan of pleasure, however, Sirius was unable to discern if it had come from Remus or himself. It wasn’t important. All that mattered was that he was kissing Remus and Remus was kissing him back.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Where are they?" Peter whined to James down in the common room, sprawling out on the overstuffed couch.

James shrugged and answered untruthfully, "Dunno. Do you want me to beat you at a round of Exploding Snap?"

"Maybe later." Peter stood up and gaited towards the boys' staircase. "I'm gonna check and see if they're in the dorm."

"Don't!" James exclaimed, not wishing for his friends' chance of getting together to be interrupted.

Peter had failed to hear the command that James gave, otherwise he would have adhered to it as usual; he opened the dorm door.

When the sound of Peter's gasp of surprise reached his ears James swore loudly and darted up the steps.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Remus looked upon the gaping Peter that was clearly irritating James whilst his arms were still wound tightly around Sirius' waist and Sirius' hands were tangled in his light brown hair without a trace of shame; he considered being a werewolf his abomination, not being attracted to the same gender.

"Good evening," he greeted cheerfully.

"T-this is what's k-keeping you guys from planning a p-prank with me and James?" stuttered Peter.

"Yes. Something came up," quipped Remus, forcing himself not to glance below Sirius' leather belt.

James snorted with appreciative amusement and Sirius hit Remus' shoulder lightly.

Seeing that James accepted the new development within the Marauders, Peter requested, "I'm okay with this, but can you just answer me one question?"

"All right," the lycanthrope courteously concurred.

"Which one of you is the b***h?"

Hysterical laughter was his only reply.

"Look, we'll be down in a minute, okay?" Sirius offered.

"Well, only if you two are done," grinned James. "We're gonna tweak Remus' romantic poem about Evans and find a way to make it seem that Dumbledore wrote it for McGonagall." He grabbed Peter's forearm and pulled him back to the common room.

Sirius gazed imploringly at Remus. "We'll finish this later?"

"Oh, I don't know," Remus teased pleasantly.

"Aw, please.” He pouted in the way that made girls think he looked adorable. Remus just thought he appeared constipated. “I love you, Moony." Sirius' grey eyes widened in shock that he had said it aloud.

Remus was all too aware of the fact that Sirius had a tendency to utter whatever was on his mind without considering the consequences, for it had gotten him into several fights with the Slytherins, yet presently Remus felt immense gratitude that Sirius possessed this trait. "Me too."

"You love yourself, too?"

"No, git, I love you."

"Good." Sirius placed a chaste kiss on his new boyfriend's cheek. "This means we can have special fun later?"

"Yes, love."

"Can I be on top?"

"Don't push it."

"Fair enough. So, are you ready to cause some Marauder Mischief until then?"

"Definitely." They smiled affectionately at each other and went to join their friends.  

[-T i m b e r-W o ll f-]

Name: -T i m b e r-W o ll f-
Name of Story: A Woman Should Have...
House:Gryffindor!
Note:The story is by Natali K. A., I found it at Fanfiction.net. Here's the link: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3261022/1/A_Woman_Should_Have (Hope its not to long!)


A Woman Should Have…
By Natali K. A.

A woman should have...

A set of screwdrivers,


A cordless drill, and

A black lace bra.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Twit, twit, twit!” Lily Evans muttered as she rummaged around her room. She threw her favorite bra—black lace, in case you were wondering—over her shoulder.


“My dear Lily, I know you want me. You needn’t throw lingerie at my head… unless you want to,” said a smug voice from the door.

“Get bent, Potter,” she growled. “Why the bloody hell are you up here? I thought I told you I’d turn you in to the Headmaster if you came up here again?”

“I have some information that might interest you,” he said.

“I highly doubt that,” she snarled. “I lost my wand. And I need a flathead screwdriver to unlock the bathroom door which Annabelle locked because she’s an absolute ninny—”

“Evans, how did you manage to become Head Girl? It’s beyond me. Accio Lily’s wand!” She heard the wood whiz through the air after appearing from under her bed.

“But I just checked there!” she whined, unwilling to thank Potter for helping her. He’d want something in return. “May I have my wand?”

“Touchy, touchy. Incidentally, Annabelle finally realized that it wasn’t that the door was locked, but that it was jammed. The bathroom door does not require fixing, love.”

“And they sent you because…?” she hissed, seething. How dare he waltz in here commandeering her wand to and fro as she searched wildly for it to no avail? The bloody nerve! Dirty wanker.

He smiled. “They didn’t. I invited myself, because I remember you going off muttering about screwdrivers. They weren’t going to send anyone, actually. Go figure, Evans. I’m actually quite nice at times.”

“When it suits you,” she argued. “What is it that you want?”

“Besides you?”

“Obviously a good kick in the bollocks!”

“Down, Oh Fiery One. I’ll leave. No, I didn’t need anything.” He opened the door to exit. “I just did something nice, without any expectations of receiving something in return. I do that, you know. I’m not always a selfish blockhead.” He gave her a cursory glance. “S’more than I can say about you.”

Her eyes opened wide in shock and anger as he closed the door after him. She grabbed the object nearest to her—a clock—and threw it at the door.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A woman should have...

One friend who always makes her laugh

And one who lets her cry.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“I can’t take this,” Lily muttered, ripping out her hair. “I can’t do this anymore. I need this year to be over.” She felt her eyes begin to water. “I simply can’t believe that I lost that essay. I’ll never rewrite it in time.”


Not for the first time that month, Lily felt absolutely helpless. She was cramming for N.E.W.T. exams, trying to stay on top of her Head Girl duties, all while maintaining a part time job in Hogsmeade to help out her folks. It was too much. Now, on top of everything else, she had lost the essay due tomorrow for Transfiguration on the principles of changing water into wine and why it was outlawed in 1458 by a stupid wizard named Gangee the Great.

The first sob was rather quiet, without much passion infused into it. As they kept coming, however, they became much more enthusiastic.

It was in this vulnerable position that the Marauders found her after returning from one of their night time jaunts about the land. Sirius, Remus, and Peter looked at him, alarm on each of their faces. James waved them on. He’d stay and see what was wrong.

At first, he couldn’t believe that the great and mighty Lily Evans was crying. Once that shocking thought set in though, he took initiative. He was no insensitive clod.

“Are you alright?” He almost regretted saying the words when her sobbing increased in volume. Perhaps he should have left her alone in her grief.

“No. I’m not. So just move away from me, Potter. I’m not in the mood for your games,” she said viciously.

“I… I don’t plan on being mean, Evans. Even I—lowly and horrid James Potter—could never be so cruel. I was just concerned.”

“Just go away,” she pleaded. “Please.”

He didn’t obey her, but instead moved to sit next to her on the couch where she had collapsed. “You’re tired, huh?”

Nodding, she cried harder. “Yes. I am so tired. I don’t think I can go another step. And now I’ve lost my paper and it’s due tomorrow. That’s half of our grade! What am I going to do?” She buried her head in her hands, shoulders shaking violently.

“You tried summoning it?”

“Yes! To no avail.”

“Do you think you’re simply too exhausted to summon it?”

“No. It’s not here anymore. I don’t know where it went. I had to leave to take care of a squabble between two idiotic Third Years and when I returned… It was gone.”

He had never heard anyone sound so miserable and so lost. Knowingly breaking the rules of man versus archenemy, he hugged her.

“Come on, we’ll find it. Finish crying and use my shirt to dry yourself. It has to be here. No one hates you. I can’t think of a single person who would sabotage your grade.”

“You would. You should. I’m awful to you.”

“Well, I’m pretty awful to you as well,” he chortled. “I’d never do that. Not for something this important.”

“I know,” she whispered. “But you should.”

He sighed. “Never mind. Do you want something to drink? Cool water for your face?”

“I just want to sleep,” she cried, although she’d calmed down now. “And the thought of having to climb those steps… I just want to fall asleep for weeks. I want this pain to stop. All this pressure. I have to be so many different things to so many different people. And I just can’t anymore. I’m burnt out.”

He considered that for a minute. “Well, I can’t ease all your burdens. But I can take care of one.” He stood up and took her into his strong arms.

“What are you doing?”

“Just relax. I’ll take you to your room—without a single attempt to hit on you either.”

She nodded, resting her head against his chest. She could hear his heart beating. Needless to say, his strength impressed her. Lily weighed a good 125 pounds.

Soothed by the rhythmic heartbeats, she paid no attention to the way in which he managed up the girls’ stairs—something that had always intrigued her. All she knew is that she woke up the next morning in her bed with her essay on her night table, accompanied by a note saying that one of her friends had taken it for safekeeping.

She was flooded with relief and a certain tenderness for the young man who could’ve taken advantage of her, but had instead been the biggest blessing she could have expected at that dark hour.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A woman should have...

Eight matching plates, wine glasses with stems,


And a recipe for a meal that will

Make her guests feel honored.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
James found Lily in the drawing room crying the day after they returned from their honeymoon. In her hands was one of an eight-piece wineglass set. She looked utterly pathetic.


“Are you alright?” he asked from the doorway.

She began to sob harder. “We have matching plates and matching glasses. For eight!”

He stuck his hands in his pockets. “Is this one of those funky mood swings you mentioned the morning after we first had sex?”

She shook her head, wiping her nose on her sleeve. She wasn’t a pretty crier. Her face was blotchy, her eyes were swollen, and her nose was running.

“My mum. She never had a matching dinner set. She always wanted one, but I never got the chance to… to buy one for her.” She began to sob in earnest now.

Alarmed, James crossed the eight paces to sit next to her. She immediately threw herself onto him, crying uncontrollably onto his shoulder.

“Lils, my love… It’s alright.”

“A dinner set! That’s all she ever wanted for Christmas, and Daddy couldn’t buy for her, and it broke his heart.”

At a loss, James said the only thing that came to him.

“Well, now you can make them proud. Their daughter Lily married an obscenely wealthy, disgustingly attractive wizard, is unbelievingly beautiful and wonderful, and happens to own a matching dinner set for eight people. What’s best about this is that Lily Potter knows eight people to invite for dinner so that Lily Potter can show how much she loves them. Best of all, Lily Potter—who abhors cooking—has her very own chef to cook for her!”

“Lily Potter is loved,” she said simply.

“Yes.” He kissed her nose. “Lily Potter is most definitely loved.”

“I’m a blubbering mess,” she said with half a chuckle. “I feel I look atrocious.”

“Rubbish. You look adorable with a red runny nose, dear. Very charming. It’ll be all the rage in Hogsmeade come fall, you watch.”

She met his eyes. “Lily Potter loves James Potter more than anything else in the world.”

His arms tightened slightly around her. “James Potter feels the same about Lily Potter. James Potter also feels that the Potters should cease speaking in third person.”

“Lily Potter agrees.”


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A woman should have…

A man who will rescue her

Even when she doesn’t need it.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Clack. Clack.

Lily glanced up from her book. What was that sound?

Clack-clack..

She got up from her bed and went to the window. Pushing aside the curtains, she saw the cause of the noise.

James Potter was in her backyard, throwing pebbles at the windows that her father had just replaced. Hurriedly, she opened the window.

“James? What are you doing?”

“I’m rescuing you.” His smile warmed her to her toes. “Come with me.”

Lily shook her head. “Are you mad? My parents told me I couldn’t go.”

“So? They’ll never know, Lily. Come with me. We’ll have fun, and I’ll have you back before they know it. This is your day, too. You’re a part of our class. Come and celebrate our graduation.”

It was tempting. But she wasn’t so sure she wanted to piss of her father so soon after their last argument. “James, my father isn’t a patient man.”

“Neither am I.”

“He’ll kick me out.”

“You’re an adult, Lily. You can find your own place to stay if he does. Come on, Lils. Celebrate with us.”

She sighed, a million thoughts running through her head. All her life she had been obedient and done what her father had asked. How many things had she missed out on because of his strictness? She knew that he just wanted to protect her, but maybe it was time for her to learn to protect herself.

“Fine. I’ll go. You’d better hope we don’t get caught.” She apparated down beside him. “Or I’ll kick your arse to Greece and back.”

He chuckled, extending his arm to her. “Shall we, my dear?”

“Sure.”

That party would be the official beginning of a very special relationship.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Every woman should know…

How to fall in love

Without losing herself.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The morning following the graduation, Lily sighed as she looked out past the lawn. “Are you ever afraid of just letting yourself go?”


James turned to look at her. “Sorry?”

“Just… Do you ever hesitate about giving it your all?”

He turned over the idea in his head, swishing around the whiskey in his glass. “Yes.”

“Have you ever not gone head first for fear of getting hurt?”

“Could you be a bit clearer?” he asked, scratching his chin. “I mean, I don’t whether you mean hypothetically, literally, or something completely serious.”

She didn’t look at him. “Whenever you do something, James, you do it with your all. It’s never half-hearted. Even when you don’t do something, you don’t do it with gusto. I just wonder if you’ve ever hesitated.”

“Always,” he replied instantaneously.

“Really? But you seem so sure.”

He looked at the woman who had spent the night with him. If she seemed at all uncomfortable at being in his home, in his robe, on his balcony overlooking his lands, she didn’t show it. She hid feelings well—too well.

“Lily,” he began slowly, “don’t you figure that because you’re hesitating, it might actually be worthwhile?” He paused as he let that sink in. “If your mind automatically gives you the go-ahead, isn’t there something wrong? As human beings, don’t we naturally err, err, and err some more?”

“But hesitation is good?”

“Undoubtedly. Or at least in my opinion. Hesitation doesn’t mean you should do it—it means you should think. That’s something that I think many people forget to do, don’t you? We were given a mind for a reason. Now we should employ it. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

Lily sat silently for a good two minutes. He decided to let her get lost in her thoughts for awhile.

“Last night,” she said suddenly. “Did you hesitate last night?”

His dark brows lifted and he took a sip of his drink. “No.”

“Then isn’t that a bad thing?”

“Besides the fact I do not believe I was capable of any form of thinking when the moment arrived, I had made up my mind a long, long time ago. Yes, I hesitated. Just not last night.”

She toed the ground in order to make her chair rock. He smiled as he remembered the way his own mother would rock herself like that, holding him in her arms… He loved that chair. He loved this entire house. He loved her in this house.

“You didn’t hesitate? Is that what bothers you?” he asked softly. “Do you regret it now?”

“Looking back, I think the decision was made for me when you ended your own hesitation. I’ve been yours for ages, James. I just think that now its official.”

He smiled hungrily at her. “While I love that idea, you’re mistaken. You had—and still have—every right to deny me.”

“I don’t want to.” She finally turned her head to look at him. “I think you fit.”

James couldn’t resist chuckling. “Well, we sure did fit last night. If heaven’s half as good as that, then I’m dandy.”

“What you are, you twit, is randy.” But she said this with a tender smile. “However did you manage it?”

“Manage what?” he asked confusedly.

“To make me fall in love with you without ever once taking me out. As anything other than friends, anyway.”

“I didn’t do anything, Lily. I think you were already like that.”

She sighed. “I’m not easy to live with. I’m an awful b***h in the mornings. In fact, I’m an awful b***h pretty much ‘round the clock. I have horrific mood swings, I don’t like onions, and I can’t stand a dirty house. I’m impossible.”

“Good. You won’t bore me to death. You might even last awhile.”

“I hate cooking.”

“I love it. I’ll cook, then. Or we’ll go out for dinner. Whatever. We have, essentially, the world at our very fingertips, my love.”

She lowered her eyes. “I don’t want the world just yet. Your bed will do.”

“Got it. World later, bed now.” Laughing, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her inside, ready to make amazingly hot, passionate love to her. “What will you tell your father?”

“That I’ve found some place else to live.”


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Every woman should know…

When to try harder and

When to walk away.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Is that it, Lily? We have one bloody argument and you’re ready to throw this sodding marriage away?” James yelled.


She didn’t pause in her packing. She was throwing the bare essentials into a bag—however, the bare essentials for a woman are quite numerous.

“Leave me alone, James. Alright? Just leave me alone! You should’ve walked straight past me that night in the common room when you saw me crying! Why didn’t you? Why did you suddenly have to become good and noble and caring?”

“Oh, you’re right. This is all my fault. I’m the one who’s an insufferable b***h every moment of every day over the stupidest things! I’m the one who’s going about flirting with every prat on the block. Apparently you don’t care about the rumors, eh?”

She gasped. “How dare you? You think I never knew about that little thing you had with your maid? You think I never knew? Ha!” She threw a pillow at him. “That’s rich.”

He blinked. “We weren’t dating.”

“You f*****t—we were anything but. We ate together, studied together, hung out together, went to Hogsmeade together—what else is that but a relationship? I can name over fifteen different times that you nearly kissed me. If you think that doesn’t count, James, then I have a few rude words for you.”

“You always have rude words for me,” he muttered. “Here, let me help you pack.” He picked up the book she’d been reading and threw it into her bag. “In fact, let me help you destroy and completely abandon our marriage!” With a violence she had never seen, he picked up a photo of them right before their wedding and chucked it at the wall. The glass shattered into thousands of pieces.

Her gasp was small but significant. The only sounds in the room was his heavy, ragged breathing and the whir of the television from the living room.

Furiously he added, “And let’s add this to the mess, shall we?” Quickly removing his wedding ring, he tossed that to the other side of the room. “Get out of my house.”

Her swallow was audible. “James.”

“Get out of my effing house, Lily. Out.”

“James… I…”

“What? This isn’t what you wanted?” he roared. “Didn’t you just ask me for a divorce, Lily? Over a stupid mistake? I’m sorry I forgot our dinner was tonight. But if that’s all that it takes, perhaps you were looking for a reason to break it off.” He ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up on end. “Go. A man needs to cry alone.”

“I’m pregnant.” She paused, watching for his reaction. There was no difference in his countenance. “If you still want me to go, I will. I just… wanted you to know.” When he didn’t move, Lily felt her heart break into a billion pieces. But she held herself together. She strode to her luggage and finished packing the last of her clothing. She had zipped it up and put it on the floor before James spoke.

“What are you doing?” came his soft voice from behind her. “I don’t want you to go, and you know it.”

“You didn’t say anything.”

“It’s a lot to take in during the space of a half hour, Lils. First divorce then you’re pregnant. I can’t recover that quickly.”

She refused to meet his eyes. “Maybe it’s better that I leave anyway, just for a few days.”

James inhaled deeply. “You know as well as I do that if you leave, you will never come back.” He touched her arm. “How long have you known?”

“I suspected about a week and a half ago. I verified yesterday. I’m six weeks along.”

“July.”

“Huh?”

“A July baby.”

She nodded, looking to the ground. She realized that she had been about to leave barefoot. This caused her to chuckle, even though humor was the last thing she felt.

Lily saw his feet leave her line of vision and heard him pick up the pieces of the picture he’d thrown. There had been a huge dent in the wall. They’d have to fix that…

“Oh, man,” he groaned. “I’m sorry, Lils.” She looked at him and saw that he was shaking his head, hands covering his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” A shaky breath was released. “I shouldn’t have said I wanted a divorce. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t even plan on leaving. It just… escalated. I don’t know. It happened so fast.”

He didn’t reply or move. She walked to stand next to him.

“I didn’t mean it,” she whispered, placing her hand on his shoulder delicately. “I’m sorry. My temper gets the best of me sometimes. You know that.”

When he removed his hands from his eyes, she saw that he was trembling. She noticed that she was too.

“I need a drink,” he said gruffly, walking over to the decanter of whiskey he kept in their room. “Do you care for s—Oh, bloody ********. Never mind.”

She smiled weakly. “Yeah, I can’t.”

He downed the glass all at once. Refilling it, he sat down in one of the armchairs by the French doors. He turned to her and patted his thigh. “Come?”

Acquiescing, she sat on his lap.

“I didn’t mean any of it, either. I would never have signed the divorce papers. I—I… There aren’t any words for it.”

She nodded and proceeded to lean her cheek against him, letting the warmth of her body calm her raging nerves.

“Love you,” he murmured, kissing her hair. Her responding “Love you, too” pleased him immensely. James and Lily Potter would not file for divorce that day or any other.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Every woman should know…

That she can't change the length of her calves,

Or the width of her hips.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“I’m fat,” Lily whined, looking at her reflection in the mirror, clad in just her bra and underwear.


“Shut up,” James said automatically. “That’s rubbish.”

“It’s true. Did you see Mira the other day? She looks wonderful. The woman’s got to be the most beautiful woman ever to walk this earth.”

“That’s you, Lils. Not Mira.”

She humphed. “At one point you didn’t think so.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t think you remembered that I dated her.”

“How couldn’t I? Our entire school was talking about it. A Fourth Year dating a Seventh Year. Sleeping with her, too.”

“I wasn’t your average Fourth Year,” he chuckled, then sobered. “I don’t know why women compare their beauty to that of someone else. There’s no one out there like you, Lils.”

She pouted at her reflection. “I’m fat. And my bloody hips make it well near impossible to buy anything that fits right.”

“I love your hips.”

“You have to say that!”

“No, I don’t. I say it because I mean it—I love your hips. And so what if you’ve got more than a five percent body fat? You keep me warm at night with all your blubber.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I am not amused, James.”

He threw aside the paper he’d been reading and walked over to join her by the full length mirror. “You’re not fat, sweetheart.” He bent to kiss her shoulders, sliding a finger under the band of her knickers. “And if you are, you are fat in all the right places. Your hips are divine, dear, and I would never wish them any narrower. You have beautiful hands, beautiful feet, beautiful lips, beautiful everything. You’re perfect.”

“You’re charming,” she smiled, turning in his arms. “You know, I think you’re more beautiful than I am.”

He wrinkled his nose. “Men aren’t beautiful, they’re handsome.”

“Nope,” she giggled, “you’re just plain beautiful.”

“Next you’re going to tell me I have lovely eyes.”

“But you do!”

“Lily,” he whined. “No, I’m rugged, handsome, and devilishly good-looking. You are soft, beautiful, and graceful. So there.”

“So there?”

“Yes. So there.”


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Every woman should know…

What she would and wouldn't

Do for love or more.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Lily?”


She grunted.

“Lils, I need to ask you something.”

“What?” she mumbled, still half asleep.

“Would you run away with me? If things get bad?”

She cracked open an eye. “James, what the bloody hell are you on about? If which things get bad?”

“I just need an answer. Would you come with me?”

She sat up on her elbows, seeing the concern in his eyes. “Are you in trouble?”

“No. Not yet, I don’t think. We might be able to avoid it altogether.”

“Avoid what?”

“Nothing.”

“James!”

“Would you go with me?”

“Go with you where? What’s the matter, James?”

“Lily Potter,” he said sternly, his voice shaking, “would you come with me if we had to run away?”

She was close to tears for a reason she didn’t even know. “Yes.”

“That’s all I needed to know.”

“Of course I would. You don’t even have to ask.” She reached out to smooth back his hair and found that he was in a cold sweat. “You’re scaring me. Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong? I could help.”

He wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her luscious red hair. “My sweetheart, there is nothing you can do to help. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. We’re safe for now, and I’d rather not tell you any information which could harm you.”

Lily wanted to know desperately what he meant, but she knew it was futile. “Alright. I trust you.”

“I’ll take care of you. I promise. I will die before I let anyone touch you.”

“Does it have to come to that?” she whispered, a tear slipping out.

He didn’t answer.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Every woman should know…

Where to go

When her soul needs soothing.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Lily, you know you’re my world, right?” James whispered into her ear as they lay in their backyard under the starry sky.


Still languid from his love, she replied with a grunt.

“I’ll always be here for you, sweetheart.”

“I know,” she smiled, cuddling closer. “And I’d never let you forget it.”


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------  

[TonksAsKid]

I found this very sweet story starring my favorite couple on fanfiction.net
My house: Hufflepuff!

Movement
Author: Mrs. Tater

link to it: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3139976/1/Movement

They had not begun this close together.

When they'd sat down at the kitchen table to decode a message Mundungus Fletcher might or might not have intercepted from Death Eaters, their chairs had been a normal mealtime distance apart.

At what point they'd shifted was anyone's guess. Tonks noticed more distance between Remus' chair and the head of the table than had been at the start, so she could only assume he'd made the move. Then again, another person could sit between her place and the one next to her.

Of course, it was only natural for them to sit near enough that they could both scrutinise the scrap of parchment without craning necks or straining eyes. But was it necessary for Remus' hand to rest on the back of Tonks' chair? Or for his other hand to curve around so near that his fingers almost brushed hers as she made notes? Or for his head to sometimes lean in and touch hers when he read her writing? Or for his voice to drop to that low, rasping tone she'd never heard him use with anyone else?

It was becoming terribly difficult to concentrate on decoding. Downright impossible, even.

"What do you think?" Remus asked softly.

Tonks stopped writing. What did she think about what? She thought the code was more likely to be one of Dung's illiterate friends' attempts at a grocery list. She thought she liked the way her shoulder fit into the crook of Remus' arm. She thought…

She wanted to know what he thought.

She turned her head.

Their eyes locked, and Remus' gentle blue told her he wasn't thinking about intercepted missives. Remus was very much thinking about….

His gaze dropped. Presumably to her mouth.

Hers dropped to his.

Remus' Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.

Tonks' lips went dry. She moistened them.

Their noses touched. His breath was warm on her face. Hers became very shallow.

The world tilted – or was it her? – and then condensed itself into two pairs of lips meeting softly and coaxing one another apart, his smooth hand caressing her face as fingers slid their way into her hair, thumb gliding over her cheekbone. She pressed her hand over his. Merlin, he was so….sweet, and wonderfully supple…yet absolutely intent and careful and thorough as he was in all things.

But then he pulled his lips from hers. His palm continued to cup her face, maybe because Tonks kept hers clasped over it. She wasn't sure. Her mental faculties were channelled wondering what Remus would do if she leant in and kissed him again. Because she didn't think she could ever get enough of this wizard putting all his remarkable focus on her mouth.

"Well," he said hoarsely. "Things appear to have changed."

Tonks shook her head, realising that every move since they agreed to work together tonight – even the instinctual, the reflexive, the unconscious – had been entirely deliberate. She knew it was so for her part; his kiss had told her it was for his. Oh yes, there had been a bit of the Marauder in that kiss, and before that, when he'd slid his arm onto the back of her chair. She definitely wanted to learn more about that.

"We changed things. We meant to do that."

Remus nodded, slightly. A smile that might be relieved curved his lips; but his eyes looked grey – a bit serious, a bit…not hesitant, but something along those lines…

He cleared his throat. "I believe I was the one who changed them. I made the first move."

Responsible. Only Remus would take responsibility for a kiss. Tonks would have let him take responsibility for the first move – she liked initiative – except…

"Are you sure I didn't kiss you first?"

For a long time they simply stared, processing, decoding.

They had much better luck than with Dung's message.

At the same moment, Tonks tilted her face upward, and Remus bent toward her. Their foreheads touched. His hand, which had been gripping the back of her chair, released it and slid down to settle on her waist, drawing her closer, bringing himself closer. She rested her other hand against the curve of his neck, fingers sliding inside his open collar. He was smooth and warm. She liked his skin. That would be a lovely place to kiss, right there at the hollow of his collarbone, where he was so soft…He rubbed her earlobe between his third and index fingers. She hoped he was thinking of kissing her there.

Remus' breath on her face underscored his words. "Shall we try it again? To be sure we changed this together?"

"What a good idea."

Everything sloped diagonally again. Or maybe it didn't. It didn't matter. What mattered was that whatever was happening was entirely their own doing.

And that she, Nymphadora Tonks, was kissing Remus Lupin, and he was kissing her.
A/N: I thought I'd share a bit of happy R/T, since there seems to be a whole lot of angst lately.  

[turayza]

Wow, two Lily/James. By the way, I love all the stories. ^ ^
Thus, I couldn't resist...a Dramione! =D

By Geeky Glasses Girl
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4251781/1/Allergic

I slightly edited/cut/added in things.
I, turayza, am a Ravenclaw.


Allergic

Draco Malfoy was befuddled. He looked at his reflection carefully. Draco leaned in closer and scrutinized the 17-year-old adolescent staring straight back at him. He saw the same silver-gray eyes, the same sharp nose, and the same blonde hair as every other day of the year. Unconsciously he placed his hand over his heart; was it the same cold heart? Yes. Although it was beating quicker than it normally did, and he was sweating. And when he looked closer, he noticed a pink tinge on his usually pale cheeks. “I must be ill,” Draco had decided. He glanced at his reflection one more time and left his room to go to double Herbology with the Gryffindors.

“And the bzzz…bzzz…bzzz…” Draco had tuned out of Professor Sprout’s lecture and busied himself with trying to get himself more comfortable in the sweltering heat of Greenhouse 3. He rolled up his sleeves and loosened his tie. Blaise Zabini right next to him had shamelessly unbuttoned most of his school shirt to the delight of many otherwise bored witches, both Gryffindor and Slytherin. Draco snorted. He knew that Blaise quite cherished the attention. He turned his attention to the rest of the class. Everyone who hadn’t found a distraction, looked quite ready to pass out. Except, of course, Hermione Granger. Her face wore a look of intense concentration as she furiously scribbled notes like there was no tomorrow. “How does she DO that?” Draco found himself wondering. He tried to observe her, perhaps to try to unravel her secret, how she continuously effortlessly beat him academically. And as he watched her, he unconsciously started to notice the sheen in her tamed hair, her skin, her lips that she bit in concentration, her eyes…her eyes which, to Draco’s horror, were looking back at him. Hermione looked back at Draco, confused. And then to his surprise, and no doubt to hers, she offered him a quick shy smile. And as thought the two caught themselves, they both simultaneously violently turned forward, backs straight. Draco’s heartbeat sped up once again and he broke out in a fresh new sweat. “Damn it!” Draco cursed, “not again!”

Hermione had tried to concentrate very hard in Herbology but it was so disgustingly sticky and hot that she had given up and began to doodle; it was quite the masterpiece of a doodle actually, as she had spent the better part of the double period invested in its creation. Towards the end of the lesson, right after Hermione had decided that her art piece had become quite extravagant, she felt someone's eyes on her. She looked around and, much to her surprise, he was look directly and shamelessly at her. “Is he staring?” she wondered. He was staring in her direction but his eyes had a glazed, faraway sort of look.

“He’s quite attractive really, when he’s not being a ferret.” She thought. She smiled at the memory and suddenly she noticed that Draco’s eyes grew as wide as saucers. “He thought I was smiling at him!” she thought horrified. She quickly looked in front, not daring to look back. And that’s how they both stayed for the rest of the lesson. And when it was time to leave, Hermione looked around for Draco but he had already made himself scarce.

“She smiled at me.” Draco said to himself, as he lied on his bed, “and I…” again he placed his hand on his heart, which had now slowed down considerably. “And earlier this morning, I passed by her, and the same thing happened.” He closed his eyes trying to reconstruct the memory; he was walking towards the dungeons when an obviously hurried Hermione Granger almost bumped into him. He had avoided her in time but she was close enough that he got a good whiff of her…her…of her. “She smelled like lilacs,” he sighed. He suddenly sat up. “Merlin! It’s HER!” And without a word, our little Slytherin ran out of his room in search of a very unknowing bushy-haired Gryffindor.

“Granger!” Draco yelled from across the hall. Hermione jumped in surprise. “What is it, Malfoy?” She hoped that he would not bring up her little slip during Herbology.

“In Herbology, (“Dammit!” Hermione cursed silently) you smiled at me. Why?” Draco demanded.

“YOU were staring. Why?” Hermione retorted back.

“I was not!” Draco hissed.

“How would you have known that I smiled, twit?” and with that Draco is silenced. Yet his eyes looked around wildly looking for some sort of excuse. Then suddenly he pushed Hermione back into a wall. Hermione started to yell in protest, “WHAT THE HELL MALF-OOOMPH!” And then Malfoy kissed her.

Hermione was shocked. Here she was pushed up against a wall, being kissed by Malfoy. Draco 'Pureblood' Malfoy. And she found it quite nice actually. And just before she finally had mustered up the self-control to push him away. He had stopped, he was just looking at her, scared and almost wild-looking.

And then he ran away, leaving Hermione flustered and panting and very very flushed. Draco just ran as fast as he could his strides matching the tempo of his increasing heartbeat.

“Yep. I'm not ill. I'm just allergic to the Mudblood. Which really isn’t quite surprising,” he told himself. And as he ran, he prided himself on coming down to a very clear, very explainable conclusion to his physical reaction to Granger whenever she was near.  

[Dragon In A Tree]

Kitsune no Zetsumei 's original story won her an Amethyst Milady headpiece.

Greenest of Green
Written by Kitsune no Zetsumei, already posted on fanfiction.net on the twelfth of September, 2007.

-----

Death is the next great adventure. Every wise man knows thus. It's common knowledge that some start their greatest journey much earlier then most. Some even start it before they even start to live. While the lucky ones, - or the unlucky ones, depending how you look at it - walks that road much later than the rest. However, some people fear that journey. They fear the unknown. And they start a quest.

And this specific quest, a quest for Eternity, none shall achieve.

They waste their lives, seeking it. When they finally end their futile quest, it's too late. Everything they once had, is gone. Everyone they loved. Gone. Their lives are at its end. Many men, and women have lost nearly their entire lives on a quest for Eternity. Actually, the current problems people were facing at the moment, was because of such a person.

He like many others failed to realize one life altering fact...

Only through death, could you hope to achieve your Never - Ending.

-----

A pair of black eyes belonged to a man that fell into the first category. However, there had been a time when onyx eyes had burned with the desire for eternity. Fortunately, as time passed by, he grew older and a little bit wiser. It also helped that a pair of twinkly blue eyes had a fondness of talking with him about such matters.

His fear of the unknown had ceased to be.

Of course, bad decisions was plenty in his life. No matter how much pride those dark eyes possessed, he couldn't deny the factor that had made him who he had been. Who he was? Who he is? He wasn't so sure anymore.

But it didn't matter now though. Perhaps it had mattered once, but not now. And it never would matter in the future.

His mother.. The kind blue eyes, the beautiful green eyes that still haunted his dreams, and had been for over two decades.

All gone.

-----

Green eyes stared into black.

Perhaps... Just perhaps.

He could leave a small, insignificant piece of himself behind. Perhaps he wouldn't be completely forgotten. He let his memories flow through him, hoping those green eyes would get the message. Green eyes widened. Very good. The beholder of those eyes had understood. Relief. He hadn't felt relief for such a long time. Not since that night... Since that night when he thought he had saved that beautiful flower.

Thought being the key word.

Those piercing green eyes stared into his. Greenest of green. The greenest of Emeralds. Those beautiful eyes. So much like hers.

So much like the eyes of that one flower. The one flower who stood out from the rest.

He'd always loathed him. Looking so much like that man, only with her eyes glaring out of his face. Rubbing salt into the wound, as they say.

The black eyes closed themselves to the world. Escaping the painful memories. Escaping those painfully beautiful eyes. Green, so incredibly green. Emeralds.

Oh Castitatis Lilium.

-----

White. Everything was white. Yet even though you'd expect it to feel cold, dead... It wasn't. Quite the opposite actually. It was warm. It was.. home.

The white room seemed to stretch onwards forever. A white table stood a little away from him. Around it was white, soft - looking cushion chairs and couches. Footsteps! He whirled around and stared. His black eyes far more wide then usual. Everyone was there. His beloved mother, the old man, the twin, the metamorphmagus, the mutt, the werewolf, the scarred man, and several more.

Even he was there.

And yet, despite the hatred, the envy, the rivalry... Despite everything he was... glad. Even she, the beautiful flower came. And they hugged like the oldest of friends, just as he had with everyone else who had gathered there. Past arguments, past disagreements, past childishness... It all seemed so unnecessary. It no longer mattered.

They talked. No one knew for how long. It might have been hours, it might have been weeks. It might have been years. But no one knew and no one cared. Time didn't matter anymore. They talked and laughed and joked. And finally, he was... happy.

All Was Well.

-----

Green eyes, like the most beautiful of emeralds sparkled in joy, as she watched her second grandson being born. In the afterlife, you could watch over those that you'd left behind. Hazel eyes twinkled of happiness beside the emerald eyes. They were now proud grandparents of two boys. However, there were more happy, joyful eyes around them. Amber eyes, blue eyes, gray eyes, two unmatched eyes, and even his eyes. The darkest of black.

The green eyes, so like the ones that resided in the afterlife, looked down upon the now newborn baby. Brown eyes smiled. And asked him what the child's name would be. Hazel eyes had been thrilled when his oldest grandson had been named after him. Everyone was excited to hear what the newborn child would be called.

"Albus Severus. After the bravest men I have ever met."

The light blue eyes widened before getting a full - blown twinkle in them, as the child was given his name. Black eyes widened as he heard the words uttered. Why? Why would he name his child after him? The green eyes beside him sparkled. A beautiful smile was bestowed upon him. She thought her son had picked a good name. Dark eyes looked at the newborn who had just opened his eyes. Greenest of green they were, and he was glad. His memory would still live on.

The memory of Severus Snape would go on, in a newborn child with eyes of the greenest of green. The same green eyes as the woman he had loved.

 

[ScottieBears MiaKitty]

Ok, so here we go.
If anyone has recetly participated in the Tek Tek game that the lovely Super started, they will have seen my bit about a fanfic I had been thinking about for a while concerning Sirius' secret realtionship and chhild with a muggle woman. I have written and scrapped and written and scrapped version after version of this story so much that you could make a redwood tree model, full sized, with all the paper it would have taken had I printed it at all This is a very very very short version written specifically for this contest, from the point of view of the daughter Elayne, being told to Harry as she comes to London to learn about the father she never knew.

Oh, and... My name is Scottie's MiaKitty, the fanfic is titled 'A Lost Love,' it's an original work by me, and I am in Gryffindor. For Contest purposes.

Enjoy!

A lost love

When I first knocked on Harry Potter's door, I knew I was as about to meet the closest thing to a blood sibling I would ever have, what with both my parents being dead. I knew that he was the only person left in the world with a refutable connection to me that I was willing to acknowledge. I knew that he was the only one who could tell me the truth about my father's character.
I also knew he very likely wouldn't believe me, despite the resemblance. Despite my dark hair and eyes. Despite my nose, which my mother had always said was my fathers. Most children take on seperate characteristics from parents. A mothers mouth, a fathers eyes, a grandparents teeth. Instead, I was an almost perfect mirror of my mother, with my father's color and nose. I had her build but his lankness, her walk but his akwardness. Her attitude and his disregard for the rules. Still, I knew that it wouldn't be enough.
He let me into his home, and I looked around, delighting in the family photos moving across the walls. He called his wife, Ginny, into the room. She entered with a confused expression, and when she looked at me, it became more so.
"Who are you?" Harry asked. I sighed. This is where it gets difficult, I thought. I had no real proof of my identity, and thus would have to prove it to him through my story. Or, rather, my parents story, since I didn't arrive until the end. Furthermore, there was no real reason for him to even believe that I was telling the truth. For all he knew of me, I could be making it all up. With this in mind, I thought carefully about my answer.
"My name is Elayne Gabriella O'Connor." I answered. A pause. Best to take this slow. I then said, "Though I'm afraid it shouldn't be." They both looked at me, perplexed. I understood. It didn't make much sense, but I was trying to ease them into this. More than that, I was afraid. Afraid of rejection, that they wouldn't believe me, wouldn't help me in my time of need. They were the only people left in the world I wanted to claim any familial ties to, and they had no idea who I was. Finally I was able to get up the courage to tell them, "My name should be Elayne Gabriella Black."
Harry looked at me as though I was crazy, with the confusion on his face as obvious as Hagrid standing in the middle of a bunch of muggles (and boy, is that one hard to miss), but Ginny politely (thankfully) asked what I meant. I told her that for me to answer that question properly, I would have to tell a rather long story to the two of them, because the simple, short answer seemed highly unlikely and unbelievable. She asked me to sit down and explain.
"My mother's name was Jennifer Ann O'Connor. She was a muggle woman living in a village not far from Godric's Hollow. One day, she was out in her garden, tending to her flowers, when she happened to look up at the sound of a motorbike stopping nearby. She watched the man get off it, and remove his helmet. She thought he looked tired, a little beaten up, so she walked over and asked if he would like to come inside for a glass of water. He thanked her and followed her to her kitchen, where she served him the water and a small meal. While he ate, she talked to him, making observations about the weather and things of that nature. When he finished, he smiled at her, and that smile did it. My mother fell in love with the biker. Over his meal she had found him to be funny and interesting and a little mysterious, and was intrigued by him. As he went to leave, she told him he was welcome to come back anytime, if he would tell her his name."
I paused then, knowing that this was the part of the story where Harry would object. Still, I had to proceed. With my mother gone, I had no one left in the world if these two would not listen. "He replied that his name was Sirius Black, and that he would love too see her again."
As I had predicted, Harry stopped me. "What has Sirius got to do with any of this?" he demanded. Ginny shushed him, thankfully, and asked me to continue. She was interested. That was a good sign.
"Three weeks later, she was in the middle of a book when a knock sounded on her door. She ignored it for a while, until she heard a muffled shout from the man outside, joking that it was bad manners to invite a person over and then ignore their knocks. She opened the door for Sirius, asking him what he would have done had she been in the shower. He smiled and said he would have simply appeared in her shower with her had she failed to answer, his eyes twinkling, like he was enjoying some personal joke. She smiled back, knowing she had missed something, but happy that they were in fact teasing each other. My mother enjoyed that sort of banter, and that a man was willing to engage in it meant much to her. She was already enamored of him, of course, but she knew that her initial reaction of thinking herself in love may not prove true over time. Still, she liked him, and was eager to explore this. After that night they began to meet periodically, and though he often got that same twinkle in his eye, telling her she didn't know everything, she was ok with it. She knew that, in time, he would tell her.
The day he told her started like any other. They had a date of sorts set up, and she was up early to make sure that she looked perfect for him. By that time, his secret was the only thing keeping her from knowing he was 'the one.' She met him at the park for a picnic, and as they sat there, she noticed something different about his demeanor. Usually he was very light-hearted, but today he was nervous. Finally, she asked him what was wrong. He laughed, but it sounded a little forced. She noticed a few worry lines on his face that had never been there before, and wondered what tragedy had befallen him. She asked, but he refused to tell her. Each time she asked, his face got sadder and sadder. He looked as though he was fighting himself, or trying to get himself to do something he had to do but didn't want to. Finally his expression cracked, and his entire demeaor became that of a grieving person. He began to cry, muttering that he had to, because he loved her. My mother recognized that he was talking about her, and understood. He was leaving her.
Angry and hurt beyond all reason, she stood and began to yell at him, telling him that his words were empty, because if he loved her, he would never leave. He took her hands in his, looking up at her with tears in his eyes, and said "Jennifer, I love you more than I could ever hope to tell you. I could never bear for anything to hurt you. I would never forgive myself if you were killed because of me!"
Confused, my mother sank to her knees, and asked what he meant. Again, he began muttering that he couldn't tell her, this time saying he didn't want her involved. She took his face in her hands and told him that she loved him too, and that whatever trouble he was in, she would help him out of. He relented then, telling her the whole story. He told her he was a wizard, told her about his family, told her about the Potters being hunted, told her everything about the war, everything about everything. He was amazed at the cool way she took it, at her automatic belief of every word, at her acceptance of what he was and what he was getting her into. He wondered at it, coming up with all manner of ridiculous reasons as to why she was so understanding, asking how she could take it all so well. She replied that, in truth, she was just happy to be able to understand all of the cryptic comments he's made in the past.
After that day, their entire relationship changed. It was no longer mae up of casual dates and teasing. It became stronger, more about being together for the time they imagined they had left than anything else. They became lovers.
Two months afterwards, he didn't arrive at her home when he said he would. Worried, she went in search of the Potters, with whom she knew he was close friends, to ask about his whereabouts. To her shock, the home at their address was destroyed. Fearing the worst, she approached a man on the street and asked what had happened. The man was a wizard (she could tell because of his odd manner of dress), and assumed that she knew nothing of the wizarding world. He told her that there had been an explosion, and began to walk away. She grabbed him and asked what had really happened. Realizing that she knew, he told her that the dark lord had killed James Potter and his wife Lily, orphaning their infant son. She asked the man of Sirius Black, and he spit on the ground, growling that he was a filthy traitor, and a Death Eater to boot. He had been sent to Azkaban.
Devastated and wanting to get away from it all, my mother packed up everything she owned and mover to the States. A week later she found out she was pregnant with me. She raised me with as little knowledge of my father as possible, not truly believing that he had betrayed his friends but unable to cope with the possiblity. When word that he had escaped got to her, she told me everything. When he was found innocent after his death, she told me. She broke then. She had always loved him so much, and she hadn't been there with him like she should have. She felt guilty that she had never found a way to tell him about me. I spent all of my life from then until two months ago taking care of her, trying to retain some of her sanity."
"What changed two months ago?" Ginny asked. I looked up. I realized that both of us were crying. Harry looked sad, as well, but still suspicious. I sighed.
"She killed herself. Gave up. I went to the grocery store for something to eat and when I got home she was dead. There was a note. She said that my father and I had been everything to her, and that he was gone and I didn't need her, and that wasn't fair for me to waste my life taking care of her. She wanted me to follow the dreams I'd had of travelling. And she was sorry and that she loved me."
Tears were flowing down my face like rivers at this point, and Ginny moved to my side and hugged me. "I came here because you're the closest thing to family I have now." I looked at Harry. "Our fathers were best friends. Mine was your's Godfather, and your's would have been mine, had they known. I don't want to associate with the people who killed our families, and everyone on my fathers side is just that. My mother's relatives are all dead. You're all I have. I'm never going to meet my father, but... I want to know him. I want someone to tell me about him, and not someone who thinks he's filth or a blood traitor. I want someone to tell me the truth."
With that, Ginny moved, and Harry sat on my other side, and they hugged me. Harry looked down at me, and smiled gently.
"What do you want to know about Sirius?" He asked.

 

[Diana Tregarde]

Well, I think we need a Harry and Ginny for the Romance contest. Also, no one has posted anything from the Astronomy Tower, so this story is both. I didn't write it. It's sweet and happy and sad at the same time, and seems to me to be perfectly what might have happened... There is Angst as well as Romance. Ginny's point of view a few days after the Battle of Hogwarts, Book Seven.
House: Gryffindor!


WARNING: This story spoils Deathly Hallows.


Rating: PG-13


~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~ Burial at the Burrow ~
Author Name: ejh0904

link: http://www.fictionalley.org/authors/ejh0904/BATB01.html

It was the day of Fred's funeral, and Ginny had rarely ever felt this tired. Her eyes were sore and tight from all the tears she'd shed and from a terrible lack of sleep, and nothing seemed as though it would ever feel completely right again. Fred was gone. Gone, just like that. George had taken his twin's death incredibly hard, as might be expected, and everyone in her family was keeping an eye on him, waiting for a reaction that as of yet had not come.

The pallbearers and a few other participants were standing together in a tight knot off to the side, seeking shade from a large willow tree on the side of her parent's property. The Burrow was several yards distant, and the sun was beating down on everyone almost vengefully. Ginny could not believe how hot it was. Part of her wondered whether or not the sun was trying to burn the feelings of grief and pain from her system, but the notion seemed odd to her, even ludicrous, and Ginny shook her head at herself for having such wild fancies at a time like this. She only realized that someone was nearby when a shadow fell over her, shading her from the heat of the day.

"Ginny?"

His voice had probably been her favourite voice in all the world until recently. It had a kindness to it, a softness, even though it could be fierce and powerful and undeniably masculine.

"Are you all right?" he spoke again, even more faintly, and Ginny peered up at him, using a hand to block the brightness of the scorching sunlight. She opened her mouth to answer him, but a sudden obstruction at the base of her throat kept any sound from leaving her. She swallowed and glanced away, embarrassed. She couldn't even look at him anymore.

"Ginny, please," he whispered beseechingly, and she felt a hand on her shoulder as he knelt in front of her. Looking back later, she decided that it must have been his tone that did it. She couldn't remember ever hearing Harry beg before. She could feel the torrent coming now, she knew there was nothing left within her that would stop it. And then, she fell weeping, almost wailing, from the chair that was still part of a neat white row and into his arms.

Out it came beyond her control; the grief, the loss, the realization that she would never hear Fred's specific laugh, that sardonic voice, his joking sarcasm ever again - her brother was truly dead. She could not believe that she was showing this kind of weakness in front of Harry, but part of her was thankful he was holding her, despite how angry she had been with him.

It had happened two days after the defeat of Voldemort. Harry had been sound asleep in his four-poster for the past forty-eight hours and Ginny did not begrudge him this time in the least, knowing that he had suffered and obviously needed to recuperate. But when Harry had awakened to find her in his dormitory with him, his first response to her had not been, "Hi," "How are you?" "I love you," or even "What's new?" His first question had been an irritated, albeit worried, "Why the hell did you have to leave that hallway?" and Ginny had nearly exploded.

"Leave the hallway? Leave the hallway? God, Harry, people were dying all around me, walls were crumbling, killing spells were flying and you ask me why I left the bloody hallway!" She had grabbed her wand out of her back pocket and had pointed it directly into Harry's face, feeling absolutely livid. How dare he ask her such an inane question after all their time apart. Red and gold sparks erupted out of the end of her wand in her temper, and it took all of her self-control to keep from hexing him so thoroughly that he wouldn't be able to walk upright for quite some time.

"Yeah," Harry had uttered irately, but he was eyeing her wand slightly warily all the same. "You could have been killed, Ginny. What were you thinking? You aren't even of age."

"You're one to talk! You have been 'of age' for hardly any of your own death-defying stunts and yet you think you can lecture me . . . I thought you were dead, you great prat! I heard Voldemort's voice . . . I saw your dead body . . . I was sure that . . . MERLIN!" Ginny screamed, at her wit's end. She had been annoyed at Harry before, but this fury she was feeling at the moment was something entirely new. "You know what, Harry Potter, you can take your heroic concern and your 'of age' nonsense and shove it right up your stupidly noble arse!"

She had stalked off then, afraid of what she felt capable of doing to him. Harry had chased after her, had followed her panting all the way down to the gates of Hogwarts. And next, just to show him she could, she had Apparated away right in front of him, happy to have had the last word. They hadn't spoken since, until this particular second. It now seemed somewhat silly given her current situation.

Ginny continued to cry into Harry's shoulder, but she paused temporarily when she felt Harry's chest heaving against hers a little while later. She glimpsed upwards at him. He was dressed in his navy blue dress robes; they were the same robes he had bought in Diagon Alley at the beginning of her fifth year. She remembered how handsome they had looked on him at Dumbledore's funeral; she had been too heartsick to notice them this time around, even though he had been leading the procession as one of Fred's pallbearers.

It was only then that she realized that Harry was sobbing quietly into her long hair. She found herself wondering if he was trying to hide behind it; Harry had never been one bent to displaying what he considered excessive emotion.

"I'm sorry, Ginny . . . s-so sorry . . ." he was saying in a murmur, and Ginny pulled back farther so she could see him properly. "I n-never ever meant for anyone else to get hurt. I never meant for anyone to die, especially n-not . . . not Fred."

Ginny saw plainly the horrible anguish behind those bright green eyes, and in that instant, all of her rage evaporated like it had never existed. Harry had suffered more grief than anyone had a right to she knew, and she refused to add any more to it. So Ginny hugged him to her with all her might, wanting him to know that he was forgiven, wanting him to feel what she felt toward him, wanting to communicate with him as she often did - saying what she needed to say without actually having to speak at all.

Ginny sighed tremulously; it was the best she could manage just then. She saw Bill and Fleur flanking her mother and father, all four of them had tears running visibly down their faces. Charlie and Percy had taken on the task of sitting next to George, who was sitting strangely quiet between them. The three Weasley men did not seem to be succumbing to their feelings at the moment, but both Percy and Charlie kept turning in their chairs, rubbing at the corners of their eyes surreptitiously. Ron and Hermione were sitting in the same row as the rest of the Weasleys, and Hermione was holding onto Ron so tightly that it was as if she was fearful that he might fly to pieces. Their faces were hidden, just like Harry's was, but Ginny had a sneaking suspicion that their cheeks would be wet the next time she saw them.

Ginny was surprised by what happened next. George had appeared abruptly at the front, close to where Fred had been laid to rest. His expression was pinched, as if something was attempting to escape that he was determined to hold back. He stared down at the dry grassy lawn and sniffed once before addressing the audience at large.

"This is for Fred!" he shouted loudly, and out of his wand appeared a huge emerald ring that encompassed everyone there. It floated sedately before zooming up into the heavens with a zipping sound that caused each of them to gasp. Slowly, twirling above them, a picture formed as though on a screen. One eye appeared and then another; a nose, mouth, two ears, and then the blazing red hair that all of them recognized and most of them wore. Fred Weasley was smiling down on them serenely, as happily as he had in life, and Ginny found herself smiling back despite herself - gladdened despite her grief, comforted despite the fact that she knew she would mourn her brother for a long time to come. The image stayed in the sky for several minutes, but no one looked away - they all stared as though drinking it in; as if it were providing them with a balm and a solace that nothing else could.

Once it had faded, Ginny chanced a peek around at everyone once more. Although many remained teary-eyed, their smiles stayed in place as well, and Ginny knew that peace would come to them eventually.

Harry was gazing at her. He seemed to be memorizing the lines of her face. Ginny looked back into his eyes and was amazed at what she was seeing. There was so much depth there to explore, so many secrets held behind those round glasses, so much pain, sorrow, and torment, but there were good things there, too - hopeful things that gleamed beneath the surface like an unbreakable bubble rising higher and higher.

Ginny knew somehow that everything was going to be all right now. The world, Hogwarts, her family, she and Harry - everything, everything was falling into place like pieces in a vast puzzle that was not of her own making. And without thinking about where they were and whether or not such behavior was strictly appropriate, Ginny kissed the man she loved - kissed him with all that resided inside of her. She didn't care that they were each sniffling or that their tears were intermingling, she didn't care that they were at a funeral and were anything but alone, she didn't care that she had been so furious at his former overprotective attitude and mollycoddling - all that mattered was that everyone here was alive; Harry was alive, and she understood without being able to say how that wherever Fred was, he was definitely cheering her on.


------
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

[AccioFunds]

OK - The poll is up, and votes are starting to come in from the mods and prefects!

The stories this month are truly wonderful! It would be great if you would comment on them, especially on the originals as we have a truly talented group of members!  

[Diana Tregarde]

Well, I voted for my own submission (hah!) because I really want that wizard's wand or milady headpiece.
But Kitsune's Greenest of Green story made me cry. ::sniff::  

[Dragon In A Tree]

I'm glad you liked mine! -Huggles Diana-

I really liked the one you picked out. Fred's death was definitely the most touching death in the book.. So sad ;-;

I remember I had to keep myself from crying in our camping car... My grandparent's would've thought I'd gone mad! And I couldn't exactly go out and weep either, because... well... We were on a camping park. Lots of lots of people there.. sweatdrop