hackthis_archive (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hackthis_archive) wrote2002-08-14 09:30 am
hackthis_archive) wrote2002-08-14 09:30 am
you gotta warm up the engine first
same premise, but from the other POV. damn you, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rosenho, i was dreaming in past tense last night! in other HP developments, this is for the really anal readers, i mean what happened to just enjoying shit?
sidebar: kass, this is going to be our quickie reference site.
edited at 10:26am: i got pimped bysatan_dot_com. i'm so proud
The Wrong Corner
Whomever said that a kiss was nothing more or less was obviously under an Imperio curse and should have been made to clean out the Quidditch changing rooms after a match. Muggle or not, wizard or not, some things are unforgivable. Some things simply should not happen: Bertie Botts in aubergine flavor, Restricted Sections in the Library, and Hermione exchanging any sort of bodily anything with Draco Malfoy.
She has to wash it off, wash him *away* because it wasn’t just a kiss, it was far worse than that. It was – it was like facing a Dementor. One with really slick hair and soft lips, and it was less painful for Hermione to peel off the sunburn that she acquired over the summer holiday. It was less painful to break her arm after she tried to punch Pansy Parkinson for stealing her favorite quill.
And did it honestly have to happen in front of *everyone*?
It might possibly be the worst thing to happen to Hermione since Harry started muttering about fancying Cho. At least that came to naught, and this is much worse. This is positively dreadful, and she’ll never hear the end of it.
Hermione snogged Draco.
Worse than that, he snogged her *back* -- or something like that. She can't even be sure who did what as one minute everything was fine and the next there were wands and pink sparks and *snogging*.
Draco Malfoy, son of the spokesman for the ‘Eradicate All Mudbloods’ League, snogged Hermione Granger, Mudblood, through and through. She’s never been prouder that her parents are Muggles; she’s never been more embarrassed at the same time.
How could she ever enjoy something so wrong? Wrong place, wrong time, wrong sodding man, and if she still had her sands of time then she would’ve been in Arithmancy, and she never would’ve been by the Transfiguration corridor. She never would’ve made that turn.
The wrong turn at the wrong time… or the wrong turn at the right time.
Now Hermione’s entire afternoon has been thrown off because she’s had to lock herself in the girl’s loo and scrub her mouth off. ‘Washing it out with soap’ always seemed like such a figurative phrase, but she’s done everything short of cutting out her own tongue, and she can’t get rid of him.
His taste is still there. Slightly spicy, slightly bitter, like he had a curry or something at lunch, and Hermione didn’t want to kiss Draco Malfoy. She’ll deny it until her dying breath, but there was a millisecond in there, somewhere when his lips were against hers that she might’ve enjoyed it. Somewhere there’s a voice reminding her that before she pushed him away, she might’ve pulled him closer.
But things like that don’t happen to Hermione, and she doesn’t have feelings like that for people who claim to hate her for no reason. She would never harbour feelings like that, and certainly not when they involve Draco Malfoy. So she’ll simply go on like this never happened, and she’ll stop licking her lips as soon as she walks out the door.
rosenho, i was dreaming in past tense last night! in other HP developments, this is for the really anal readers, i mean what happened to just enjoying shit?sidebar: kass, this is going to be our quickie reference site.
edited at 10:26am: i got pimped by
satan_dot_com. i'm so proudThe Wrong Corner
Whomever said that a kiss was nothing more or less was obviously under an Imperio curse and should have been made to clean out the Quidditch changing rooms after a match. Muggle or not, wizard or not, some things are unforgivable. Some things simply should not happen: Bertie Botts in aubergine flavor, Restricted Sections in the Library, and Hermione exchanging any sort of bodily anything with Draco Malfoy.
She has to wash it off, wash him *away* because it wasn’t just a kiss, it was far worse than that. It was – it was like facing a Dementor. One with really slick hair and soft lips, and it was less painful for Hermione to peel off the sunburn that she acquired over the summer holiday. It was less painful to break her arm after she tried to punch Pansy Parkinson for stealing her favorite quill.
And did it honestly have to happen in front of *everyone*?
It might possibly be the worst thing to happen to Hermione since Harry started muttering about fancying Cho. At least that came to naught, and this is much worse. This is positively dreadful, and she’ll never hear the end of it.
Hermione snogged Draco.
Worse than that, he snogged her *back* -- or something like that. She can't even be sure who did what as one minute everything was fine and the next there were wands and pink sparks and *snogging*.
Draco Malfoy, son of the spokesman for the ‘Eradicate All Mudbloods’ League, snogged Hermione Granger, Mudblood, through and through. She’s never been prouder that her parents are Muggles; she’s never been more embarrassed at the same time.
How could she ever enjoy something so wrong? Wrong place, wrong time, wrong sodding man, and if she still had her sands of time then she would’ve been in Arithmancy, and she never would’ve been by the Transfiguration corridor. She never would’ve made that turn.
The wrong turn at the wrong time… or the wrong turn at the right time.
Now Hermione’s entire afternoon has been thrown off because she’s had to lock herself in the girl’s loo and scrub her mouth off. ‘Washing it out with soap’ always seemed like such a figurative phrase, but she’s done everything short of cutting out her own tongue, and she can’t get rid of him.
His taste is still there. Slightly spicy, slightly bitter, like he had a curry or something at lunch, and Hermione didn’t want to kiss Draco Malfoy. She’ll deny it until her dying breath, but there was a millisecond in there, somewhere when his lips were against hers that she might’ve enjoyed it. Somewhere there’s a voice reminding her that before she pushed him away, she might’ve pulled him closer.
But things like that don’t happen to Hermione, and she doesn’t have feelings like that for people who claim to hate her for no reason. She would never harbour feelings like that, and certainly not when they involve Draco Malfoy. So she’ll simply go on like this never happened, and she’ll stop licking her lips as soon as she walks out the door.
no subject