Tidbits

Anne U

Rating: PG13
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 02/04/2005
Last Updated: 11/03/2006
Status: in_progress

This is where I will post short, unrelated drabbles and ficlets. Ratings will be G, PG or PG-13. Some of them might be Ron/Luna in addition to H/Hr, or even as the main ship.

Chapters

1. The Plane Truth

2. Enlightened

3. Goosebumps

4. Brownies

1. The Plane Truth

Author's note: This ficlet was inspired by this drawble of Harry, Hedwig and a leaf. Thanks to my friend myrafur for the inspiration.

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The Plane Truth

Harry Potter's twentieth birthday was not what he had hoped for. The weather was warm and muggy, his Auror training was wearing him down, his girlfriend was several thousand miles away, and nothing had seemed to go right all day. Apparating into his flat at the end of the day, Harry was pleasantly surprised to see Hedwig on her perch, a small envelope lying on his desk near her feet. Harry knew that his owl couldn't smirk, but he could almost swear she was raising her owlish eyebrows as if to say I knew it all along.

Seating himself, he tore open the envelope and was surprised to find a single leaf from ...well, he wasn't sure what kind of tree. Perhaps the note inside the envelope would tell him. Unfolding the note, he found the small, neat handwriting he'd come to know and love during the past nine years:

Gortyna, Crete

30 July 2000

Dearest Harry,

I'm so glad Hedwig found me here. I hope you've missed me as much as I've missed you. My Unspeakable training is going very well, and I wanted to share something I found today. This leaf comes from a plane tree under which, so the myth goes, Zeus and Europa first made love. While I can't be there on your birthday to show you how much I love you, I hope you know that, like the leaves on this tree, my love for you will never die.

Now I'll shut up before I kill us both with sappiness. Happy birthday, darling.

All my love,

Hermione

Harry held the leaf up to the light, examining it as if it were made of gold.

The next day he took a Portkey to Crete. He found Hermione, and the tree. Many leaves fell, but none died.

* * *

A photo of the sacred tree

2. Enlightened

Author's Note: My LiveJournal friend tarie did a song title drabble challenge on her journal on 5/11/2005. She put her MP3 player on random play and the title that came up for me was Crazy in Love by Beyonce' and Jay-Z. So this rather longish drabble (365 words) is my response to my specific challenge. Sort of Ron/Luna, Harry/Hermione, rated PG at worst. It's just a drabble, not even a ficlet. I'd better stop before the author's note becomes longer than the drabble…

Enlightened

No matter where you go, there she is, wearing that silly necklace of butterbeer caps, wand stuck behind her ear, a look of perpetual amazement in her silver-gray eyes. Though she's a Ravenclaw, she cheers for your team at Quidditch games -- except when Gryffindor plays Ravenclaw. Then she's strangely silent, as though she can't stand to root against your team, not even for her own -- as though she can't stand to root against you. She's odd, maybe even mental, but in a way that makes you feel good. Whenever she approaches you in the Great Hall, she has this look on her face like you're the greatest thing she's ever seen.

It's that look that gets you thinking. Is that how I've been looking at her? Is that how I look at Hermione, like she's the greatest thing I've ever seen? Why hasn't she noticed? Why can't she see how I look at her? And that's when it hits you like a ton of bricks. The look you give her is the look she saves for him. It's the same look Harry used to give Cho. That look people have when they're crazy in love. Luna looks that way at you, you look that way at Hermione, and she looks that way at Harry.

Gazing across the Gryffindor table, you watch them as they huddle together, talking quietly. You can't help noticing the light in Hermione's eyes when she looks at him. You pick at the remains of your bangers and mash, trying to figure what she sees in him that she doesn't see in you.

Luna sits down next to you, her eyes shining with something that shows only when you're around.

"You look sad, Ronald," she says, her hand just inches from yours. "Are you?"

"I -- I don't know." Then you look at her, really look at her, for the first time. "No, I'm not sad. Enlightened, but no, not sad."

Luna looks at you and puts her hand over yours. Hermione looks at Harry and puts her hand over his.

The look on Harry's face is priceless. You reckon you're not the only one who's been enlightened.

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3. Goosebumps

This little drabble is one of the first things I ever wrote. I actually did it as a comment on lissannej’s livejournal. I wrote soon after OotP was published, so it has no references to chest monsters etc. ;-) Hope you enjoy it.

Goosebumps

Rating: PG

Harry was starting to turn blue.

He really hadn't intended to spend so much time wandering around Gryffindor Tower wearing nothing but a towel and one of Dobby's old socks. After all, it wasn't entirely his fault that he'd ended up losing his clothes earlier that evening. Defending new students (especially cute girls) from Malfoy's predations was all in a day's work for The Boy Who Lived.

Still, Harry hadn't counted on Hermione's reaction to his predicament. All he wanted to do was to get back into his dorm room so he could pull on some jeans and a jumper (and, of course, some boxers). Hermione, however, seemed to be taking some kind of perverse pleasure in watching him develop goosebumps. After twenty minutes of bouncing off the door while wearing nothing but a towel and an odd-looking sock, Harry had had enough.

"All right, Hermione, you've had your fun," he sighed, exasperation mounting in his voice. "Take the charm off the door. Please."

"Charm? What charm?" she grinned.

"Whatever charm you used so that my roommates can enter and exit at will, but I can't go back in and get some clothes on."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said, still grinning, "but if you come over here I might be able to fix those goosebumps." She patted the seat of an overstuffed chair in the far corner of the common room.

Eyeing her warily, Harry moved gingerly across the common room and seated himself demurely in the chair, the better to prevent anyone from seeing anything they shouldn't. From behind the chair Hermione pulled out a Gryffindor blanket, which she draped gently around Harry's shoulders. Leaning toward him, she whispered a warming charm and pulled the ends of the blanket together loosely below his chin, the tips of her fingers grazing his chest. Her face hovered slightly in front of his, lips parted slightly, brown eyes glittering with amusement and something else he couldn't quite place, and Harry suddenly realized he wasn't cold anymore. To the contrary, he was very, very warm, and suddenly he leaned slightly forward in the chair and closed the gap between his lips and hers, and the slight parting of her lips suddenly felt like the Grand Canyon, and he was falling, falling, falling into them, and he knew in that moment that he'd never get out. Not that he wanted to.

"So..." she breathed when they finally came up for air, "are your goosebumps all gone now?"

"Well... they were for a minute," he replied. "But actually, I think I'd like to get them back. Wanna help?"

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Thanks to everyone who reads and especially those who comment on my fics. I apologize about the ones I haven’t updated lately. I can’t write to a schedule anyway, and Real Life was hell on my muse the past 8 months or so. The last time I posted anything on Portkey was in mid-January, and 2 days after that, my mother died after a long illness. My muse has sort of abandoned me lately, but I hope to post newer stuff in the next few weeks. – Anne U

4. Brownies

Written for Mary Caroline’s birthday as part of the Anything Goes challenge at The Quidditch Pitch. This is a tiny H/Hr drabble, 110 words, rated PG. Happy, happy birthday, MC!

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Brownies

"So what are you making?"

Leaning over Hermione’s shoulder, Harry peers down at the mixing bowl between her hands.

She raises an eyebrow then scowls. "It was supposed to be a surprise!"

"So it’s not ready yet?"

"Does it look ready?" Frustration rises in her voice.

"No, I ‘spose not. It looks like lumpy chocolate soup." Two fingers dipped into the bowl earn Harry a slap on the wrist. "Mmm, brownies!"

She spreads the mixture in a square glass pan and pops it into the oven. Hands on hips, she asks, "Now can you keep your hands to yourself for awhile?"

He backs her up against the fridge.

"That depends…."

<333