Courtney Kathrys (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} courtneykathrys) wrote,@ 2004-12-21 03:01:00 |
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Revenge of the Brides
Name: Courtney Kathrys
Title: Revenge of the Brides
E-mail: Faeriedeath@hotmail.com
Summery: When the wedding planners from Hell get hold of your wedding, it leaves Hermione and Pansy only one option... elopment.
Notes: Written for the Slash Wedding Ficathon forsihleira who wanted
pairing: Harry/Draco or Pansy/Hermione
3 things I want to read: fluff, humour, someone taking over and
organising everything
2 things I don't want to read: MPreg, smut
I couldn't help my smutty nature, and there are a couple suggestive scenes... but it's all very vanilla. Well, maybe French Vanilla... with a cherry on top. But nothing raunchy or scandalous.
Thanks to Row for the quickest betaing known to mankind.
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are by JK Rowling. I only own the plot.
________________________________________
Sweat pooled at Hermione’s temples, gleaming despite the cool night breeze through the open windows. In and out, in and out. She thought to herself, concentrating on the soft voice floating in her ear, “that’s it love, in and out. Remember to breathe…” The room began to come into focus again, and Hermione found herself on the bed, hands cool hands running up and down her sweat sticky back and through her damp mass of curls.
Then she registered the brown paper bag in her hands, her mouth wrapped around the edges as it expanded and decompressed with every breath she took. Her fiancé, Pansy Parkinson sat behind her, lightly rubbing her back and combing her fingers through her hair. “Thought I lost you for a moment there Hermy, you completely flipped out. What happened?”
Turning around, Hermione met Pansy’s eyes, normally cold and sarcastic, full of concern. Slowly, everything began to rewind in her mind and Hermione groaned, burying her face in Pansy’s thin shoulder and breathing in the sharp scent of musk and clove which was so distinctly Pansy. “Oh love, it was awful. And don’t call me Hermy.”
With great effort, Hermione leaned back and laid down on the large down mattress she and Pansy shared, curling back into the arms Pansy held out as she laid down next to her. “Do we have to have a wedding? Can’t we just run off to some little dingy place and be done with it?” Pansy laughed into Hermione’s hair, a low breathy sound that made Hermione’s heart beat a bit faster. “Need I remind you, my dear, that it was you who absolutely insisted we have a wedding?”
Lifting her face up a bit so Pansy could have a good long look at the glare Hermione sent her, she resumed nestling into Pansy’s shoulder. “Oh it isn’t the wedding, not really… it was all going lovely. Simple, elegant… small. Then your precious little Draco and his beastly little wife got their simmering little paws on my planner and ran away with it. It’s now apparently the event of the year. Scurvy little ferret!”
Leaning gracefully upon one elbow, Pansy looked down into Hermione’s annoyed face, raising a thin black eyebrow. “Isn’t your bosom friend, Ginny, Draco’s ‘beastly little wife?’”
“Yes, and she’s infuriating!” exclaimed Hermione, pounding a clenched fist into the soft bed. “We’re both scheduled to have at least half a dozen attendants a piece, horrible white monstrosities of robes, a party with more than half the wizarding world, and just accept it lying on our backs.”
A wicked grin crossed Pansy’s face, and Hermione realized the door she’d left open a split second too late as the purring voice slithered in her ear, “you never had a problem before…” With a push, a glare, and a smothered grin, Hermione stood up and grabbed a suitcase, throwing some robes and accessories in while Pansy watched with amusement. “So you’re leaving me for my off color jokes? I always knew your proper British Muggle upbringing would get the best of you.”
Pausing to allow a raised eyebrow in her fiancé’s direction, Hermione began to carefully lay out their nicest dress robes. “Put it on, my love, we are going to take back our wedding.
A few hours later Pansy stood at Hermione’s side, clasping her hand tightly while Dumbledore carefully wove their final binding charms around them. She couldn’t believe that Hermione was actually doing this, sacrificing a real wedding for a hurried elopement in the back room of the Hog’s Head, while Dumbledore’s shady brother was supposedly readying a room for the soon-to-be newlyweds upstairs. It was grimy, dingy, dirty, sleazy, and absolutely perfect.
Interrupting her inner monologue, Dumbledore lowered his wand and smiled at the two girls. “As the Muggles would say, and Hermione surely knows, you may now kiss the bride.”
With a nervous grin, Hermione leaned in while Pansy cupped her cheek lightly, kissing her new wife softly, embarrassed to do more in front of her former Headmaster. The two girls looked back up at the old wizard, the happy newlywed flush tingeing their cheeks. “Thank you Headmaster,” Hermione managed to choke out, “will you be sure to tell me of Draco and Ginny’s reaction when you inform them that we are honeymooning?”
Laughing richly, Dumbledore patted Hermione lightly on the shoulder, “I’m sure it will be forever ingrained into my mind.” Then he smiled, wished them luck, and left the room. Pansy watched him go, her heart constricting tightly. “Hermy, we’re married now. Binding, and legal, and everything. And it was easy too.”
Hermione giggled her lips tauntingly inches from Pansy’s own. “Don’t call me Hermy. And it was much easier than submitting to the will of the Satan’s right and left hand, those cursed Malfoy’s.” Pansy grinned, leaning in a half inch closer. “I never was one to submit without a fight.”
Closing the gap, Hermione indulged in Pansy’s soft mouth before parting her lips enough to murmur her reply. “I can think of a few things you’d like to submit to. How about we go to our room and I’ll demonstrate as much as I can before we are rudely interrupted by the wedding planners?”
Grabbing Hermione’s wrist, Pansy dashed out of the room and up the stairs, hurriedly opening their door and falling onto the gritty single mattress. “Now… what were you saying, Hermy?”
As Hermione bent down, capturing Pansy’s body on thin mattress, she managed a faint whisper before words weren’t needed. “Don’t call me Hermy.”
Just as Pansy was beginning to really enjoy married life, the rickety door swung open, revealing a very angry and now thoroughly embarrassed Ginny Malfoy, Draco at her heels. “What do you think you are doing?!”
As Hermione managed to pull the sheet up to cover most of her, Pansy stretched languidly like a cat, giving a very red Ginny a sultry wink. “You just got a message saying we were on our honeymoon. What else did you expect us to be doing? What were you doing after you finally made it into your room?”
Draco turned to Ginny, a glint in his eyes while a smirk played on his face. His wife managed a resounding glare before turning back to the newlyweds. “But there was a cathedral, and imported lace dresses, and the Minister himself coming to officiate! It was all very elite and chic!” Hermione managed a giggle at Ginny’s tantrum. “Oh Ginny, I never wanted elite and chic, I only wanted Pansy. You just never wanted to listen. Either of you, which includes you Draco No-I-Really-DO-Know-What-You-Want Malfoy.”
The two at least had the grace to be very chagrined at their ardor in making a wedding fit for the Minister himself. Draco managed a shrug, his voice slightly lost as if he were just told he would no longer be able to play professional Quidditch and he needed to become celibate. “What do we do with all the plans now?”
Pansy shrugged, already growing irksome and restless at the unwelcome interruption. “Renew your vows; marry off Harry to bloody Lavender Brown for all I care. Just leave the room.”
Managing a small grin, Ginny began to push Draco out of the room. “I’m sorry, for everything. Enjoy the honeymoon.” Closing the door behind her, Hermione managed to hear the two making plans to divide and conquer Harry and Lavender to replace the figure heads in the wedding.
However, Hermione's throaty laugh turned into much more, as Pansy bean to take advantage to their honeymoon, and currently alone, status.
Name: Courtney Kathrys
Title: Revenge of the Brides
E-mail: Faeriedeath@hotmail.com
Summery: When the wedding planners from Hell get hold of your wedding, it leaves Hermione and Pansy only one option... elopment.
Notes: Written for the Slash Wedding Ficathon for
sihleira who wantedpairing: Harry/Draco or Pansy/Hermione
3 things I want to read: fluff, humour, someone taking over and
organising everything
2 things I don't want to read: MPreg, smut
I couldn't help my smutty nature, and there are a couple suggestive scenes... but it's all very vanilla. Well, maybe French Vanilla... with a cherry on top. But nothing raunchy or scandalous.
Thanks to Row for the quickest betaing known to mankind.
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are by JK Rowling. I only own the plot.
________________________________________
Sweat pooled at Hermione’s temples, gleaming despite the cool night breeze through the open windows. In and out, in and out. She thought to herself, concentrating on the soft voice floating in her ear, “that’s it love, in and out. Remember to breathe…” The room began to come into focus again, and Hermione found herself on the bed, hands cool hands running up and down her sweat sticky back and through her damp mass of curls.
Then she registered the brown paper bag in her hands, her mouth wrapped around the edges as it expanded and decompressed with every breath she took. Her fiancé, Pansy Parkinson sat behind her, lightly rubbing her back and combing her fingers through her hair. “Thought I lost you for a moment there Hermy, you completely flipped out. What happened?”
Turning around, Hermione met Pansy’s eyes, normally cold and sarcastic, full of concern. Slowly, everything began to rewind in her mind and Hermione groaned, burying her face in Pansy’s thin shoulder and breathing in the sharp scent of musk and clove which was so distinctly Pansy. “Oh love, it was awful. And don’t call me Hermy.”
With great effort, Hermione leaned back and laid down on the large down mattress she and Pansy shared, curling back into the arms Pansy held out as she laid down next to her. “Do we have to have a wedding? Can’t we just run off to some little dingy place and be done with it?” Pansy laughed into Hermione’s hair, a low breathy sound that made Hermione’s heart beat a bit faster. “Need I remind you, my dear, that it was you who absolutely insisted we have a wedding?”
Lifting her face up a bit so Pansy could have a good long look at the glare Hermione sent her, she resumed nestling into Pansy’s shoulder. “Oh it isn’t the wedding, not really… it was all going lovely. Simple, elegant… small. Then your precious little Draco and his beastly little wife got their simmering little paws on my planner and ran away with it. It’s now apparently the event of the year. Scurvy little ferret!”
Leaning gracefully upon one elbow, Pansy looked down into Hermione’s annoyed face, raising a thin black eyebrow. “Isn’t your bosom friend, Ginny, Draco’s ‘beastly little wife?’”
“Yes, and she’s infuriating!” exclaimed Hermione, pounding a clenched fist into the soft bed. “We’re both scheduled to have at least half a dozen attendants a piece, horrible white monstrosities of robes, a party with more than half the wizarding world, and just accept it lying on our backs.”
A wicked grin crossed Pansy’s face, and Hermione realized the door she’d left open a split second too late as the purring voice slithered in her ear, “you never had a problem before…” With a push, a glare, and a smothered grin, Hermione stood up and grabbed a suitcase, throwing some robes and accessories in while Pansy watched with amusement. “So you’re leaving me for my off color jokes? I always knew your proper British Muggle upbringing would get the best of you.”
Pausing to allow a raised eyebrow in her fiancé’s direction, Hermione began to carefully lay out their nicest dress robes. “Put it on, my love, we are going to take back our wedding.
A few hours later Pansy stood at Hermione’s side, clasping her hand tightly while Dumbledore carefully wove their final binding charms around them. She couldn’t believe that Hermione was actually doing this, sacrificing a real wedding for a hurried elopement in the back room of the Hog’s Head, while Dumbledore’s shady brother was supposedly readying a room for the soon-to-be newlyweds upstairs. It was grimy, dingy, dirty, sleazy, and absolutely perfect.
Interrupting her inner monologue, Dumbledore lowered his wand and smiled at the two girls. “As the Muggles would say, and Hermione surely knows, you may now kiss the bride.”
With a nervous grin, Hermione leaned in while Pansy cupped her cheek lightly, kissing her new wife softly, embarrassed to do more in front of her former Headmaster. The two girls looked back up at the old wizard, the happy newlywed flush tingeing their cheeks. “Thank you Headmaster,” Hermione managed to choke out, “will you be sure to tell me of Draco and Ginny’s reaction when you inform them that we are honeymooning?”
Laughing richly, Dumbledore patted Hermione lightly on the shoulder, “I’m sure it will be forever ingrained into my mind.” Then he smiled, wished them luck, and left the room. Pansy watched him go, her heart constricting tightly. “Hermy, we’re married now. Binding, and legal, and everything. And it was easy too.”
Hermione giggled her lips tauntingly inches from Pansy’s own. “Don’t call me Hermy. And it was much easier than submitting to the will of the Satan’s right and left hand, those cursed Malfoy’s.” Pansy grinned, leaning in a half inch closer. “I never was one to submit without a fight.”
Closing the gap, Hermione indulged in Pansy’s soft mouth before parting her lips enough to murmur her reply. “I can think of a few things you’d like to submit to. How about we go to our room and I’ll demonstrate as much as I can before we are rudely interrupted by the wedding planners?”
Grabbing Hermione’s wrist, Pansy dashed out of the room and up the stairs, hurriedly opening their door and falling onto the gritty single mattress. “Now… what were you saying, Hermy?”
As Hermione bent down, capturing Pansy’s body on thin mattress, she managed a faint whisper before words weren’t needed. “Don’t call me Hermy.”
Just as Pansy was beginning to really enjoy married life, the rickety door swung open, revealing a very angry and now thoroughly embarrassed Ginny Malfoy, Draco at her heels. “What do you think you are doing?!”
As Hermione managed to pull the sheet up to cover most of her, Pansy stretched languidly like a cat, giving a very red Ginny a sultry wink. “You just got a message saying we were on our honeymoon. What else did you expect us to be doing? What were you doing after you finally made it into your room?”
Draco turned to Ginny, a glint in his eyes while a smirk played on his face. His wife managed a resounding glare before turning back to the newlyweds. “But there was a cathedral, and imported lace dresses, and the Minister himself coming to officiate! It was all very elite and chic!” Hermione managed a giggle at Ginny’s tantrum. “Oh Ginny, I never wanted elite and chic, I only wanted Pansy. You just never wanted to listen. Either of you, which includes you Draco No-I-Really-DO-Know-What-You-Want Malfoy.”
The two at least had the grace to be very chagrined at their ardor in making a wedding fit for the Minister himself. Draco managed a shrug, his voice slightly lost as if he were just told he would no longer be able to play professional Quidditch and he needed to become celibate. “What do we do with all the plans now?”
Pansy shrugged, already growing irksome and restless at the unwelcome interruption. “Renew your vows; marry off Harry to bloody Lavender Brown for all I care. Just leave the room.”
Managing a small grin, Ginny began to push Draco out of the room. “I’m sorry, for everything. Enjoy the honeymoon.” Closing the door behind her, Hermione managed to hear the two making plans to divide and conquer Harry and Lavender to replace the figure heads in the wedding.
However, Hermione's throaty laugh turned into much more, as Pansy bean to take advantage to their honeymoon, and currently alone, status.
