Post by jazzyjess on Nov 28, 2011 0:06:39 GMT -8
Title: The Quidditch Pitch (x)
Word count: 285
Warnings:
Summary: Hermione tries to find herself, looking for answers in an unlikely place. EWE.
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“Can – may I – please – ” Draco tries, but he can’t seem to get the words out right. Hermione gives a little nod and he reaches down, hooks Ariadne under the arms and lifts her. She giggles with delight.
After a moment he turns to Hermione and the little girl turns too. She can barely breathe with both pairs of grey eyes burning into her face. “I’m ready,” he says fervently. “Please let me in.”
“It’s a life-long responsibility,” she informs him, her own arms folded, wary. “You can’t abandon her when you feel angry with me or when you feel it’s too much.”
“I would never,” he breathes. “Please, Hermione. Please let me be her father.”
Hermione wonders if it’s worth it. She wonders if he’ll live up to the title so rashly entrusted to him by a night of panic and terror and longing right here on this Quidditch pitch in the middle of that God-forsaken war. But as she looks at him, at the way he’s clutching Ariadne as if all his life depends on Hermione’s words, she feels herself relenting.
“I want to be with you. Both of you.”
It’s these words, spoken earnestly and from the heart, that make up her mind. Letting out the breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding, Hermione steps forward and allows herself to be a part of the circle. They’ll be a little family, she thinks, if she’d only let him in. As his free arm encircles her, pulling her as closely against his chest as can be managed with the child between them, she accepts that this is the beginning of a new life.
“Yes,” she says.
Yes, yes, yes echoes the Quidditch pitch.
fin
Word count: 285
Warnings:
Summary: Hermione tries to find herself, looking for answers in an unlikely place. EWE.
-
“Can – may I – please – ” Draco tries, but he can’t seem to get the words out right. Hermione gives a little nod and he reaches down, hooks Ariadne under the arms and lifts her. She giggles with delight.
After a moment he turns to Hermione and the little girl turns too. She can barely breathe with both pairs of grey eyes burning into her face. “I’m ready,” he says fervently. “Please let me in.”
“It’s a life-long responsibility,” she informs him, her own arms folded, wary. “You can’t abandon her when you feel angry with me or when you feel it’s too much.”
“I would never,” he breathes. “Please, Hermione. Please let me be her father.”
Hermione wonders if it’s worth it. She wonders if he’ll live up to the title so rashly entrusted to him by a night of panic and terror and longing right here on this Quidditch pitch in the middle of that God-forsaken war. But as she looks at him, at the way he’s clutching Ariadne as if all his life depends on Hermione’s words, she feels herself relenting.
“I want to be with you. Both of you.”
It’s these words, spoken earnestly and from the heart, that make up her mind. Letting out the breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding, Hermione steps forward and allows herself to be a part of the circle. They’ll be a little family, she thinks, if she’d only let him in. As his free arm encircles her, pulling her as closely against his chest as can be managed with the child between them, she accepts that this is the beginning of a new life.
“Yes,” she says.
Yes, yes, yes echoes the Quidditch pitch.
fin
