Post by jazzyjess on Nov 28, 2011 0:02:08 GMT -8
Title: The Quidditch Pitch (vi)
Word count: 190
Warnings:
Summary: Hermione tries to find herself, looking for answers in an unlikely place. EWE.
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A year since Ariadne’s birth, two since she started teaching Transfiguration – Hermione sighs. The time has flown faster than she could ever have thought. She thinks she’s at peace with herself now, at peace with herself and the world around her. Occasionally she thinks about Ron, wonders if he is happy out there in the big world. She wonders how Ginny enjoys married life. She wonders whether Harry is staying at Hogwarts for her sake or for his own. She very carefully keeps herself from remembering Draco.
Until, of course, he finds her.
The air on the Quidditch pitch changes the moment he steps foot onto the spongey turf. Hermione senses it and her head snaps up, one hand resting protectively on the head of the child asleep at her side. She looks around, but knows what to expect before she pinpoints him with her gaze. There is no world in which she could forget those angry grey eyes, that shock of nearly-white hair, the lithe, dangerous body stalking towards her with an intent she can’t figure out.
She steps off the risers. He stops.
The world stops with them.
Word count: 190
Warnings:
Summary: Hermione tries to find herself, looking for answers in an unlikely place. EWE.
-
A year since Ariadne’s birth, two since she started teaching Transfiguration – Hermione sighs. The time has flown faster than she could ever have thought. She thinks she’s at peace with herself now, at peace with herself and the world around her. Occasionally she thinks about Ron, wonders if he is happy out there in the big world. She wonders how Ginny enjoys married life. She wonders whether Harry is staying at Hogwarts for her sake or for his own. She very carefully keeps herself from remembering Draco.
Until, of course, he finds her.
The air on the Quidditch pitch changes the moment he steps foot onto the spongey turf. Hermione senses it and her head snaps up, one hand resting protectively on the head of the child asleep at her side. She looks around, but knows what to expect before she pinpoints him with her gaze. There is no world in which she could forget those angry grey eyes, that shock of nearly-white hair, the lithe, dangerous body stalking towards her with an intent she can’t figure out.
She steps off the risers. He stops.
The world stops with them.
