D R A B B L E S
A/N:
Thus begins a series of drabbles I wrote for the weekly Drabble fests on the BB, of the Dramione pairing. This is strictly for DM/HG lovers only. Every chapter is a sole different drabble by itself-- I've explored with humour, fluff, angst and so on and so forth. Hope you enjoy!
Note: Many thanks to the BB ladies for coming up with so many great quotes.
The sound of a book dropping onto a table.
"Those who restrain desire, do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained. William Blake."
A chair screeches.
"Wha—Oh, Mione, it's you. Give me a scare, why don't you? And what are you whinging about now? Something out of Hogwarts: A History again, is that it?"
"I said, 'Those who restrain desire, do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained.' It's by William Blake, a lovely Muggle poet, and— Ronald Weasley, you bloody git! Are you even listening to me?"
A snicker.
"Don't you dare laugh, Harry; you're just as bad as him! I can never get a word edgewise!"
Sighing from two different mouths.
"Ah, bloody— 'Mione, I'm—wait for a moment, would you? I'll be right there, just—Ha! Ha! Checkmate! Ha! Take that, Boy-Who-Just-Wouldn't-Die!"
A sniff.
"You wait, Ron. You just wait. One of these days, I am going to beat your arse at wizard's chess. I'll be back, see if I won't."
Snickers.
"Merlin, Harry, you sound like Whatshisname, that Muggle actor. Swah-egg-her-something."
Hands upon hips and a dragon-like glare.
"You're saying it all wrong, Ron-ald, it's Schwarzenegger, not swah-egg-something! Boys!"
Stomping feet. Whispers.
"Blimey, Harry, what do you s'ppose's gotten into her knickers now?"
Head scratching.
"I don't know Ron… Maybe even Dobby's stopped collecting the clothes she knitted for Spew?"
A hand smacks again the armrest of a chair.
"I can hear the two of you perfectly, you know! I'm not deaf! And it's S.P.E.W., not Spew! How many times do I have to repeat that?"
Guilty glances.
"Ah, Mione—"
"Forget it! The two of you are such thickheaded nitwits that you wouldn't notice any differences in your surroundings even if they dance around you in tea cosies! I'm going to bed!"
Feet stamp and a door bangs in the distance.
"What's—She's—"
Bemused looks.
"I don't know either, Ron— Look, here comes Neville, maybe—"
Panting. A hand grips the edge of a table.
"Harry! Ron! D-did you know?"
Confusion.
"Know what? Neville, mate, you look red. And where's Trevor? I thought that toad—"
Gasping.
"Neville? Neville. Neville, calm down. You're wheezing, here, drink some pumpkin juice—"
The goblet is accepted gracefully.
"Thanks, Harry. It—It shocked every one of us, you know. Never expected he would do that! And—and we certainly didn't expect Hermione to—to—"
Voices sharpen.
"What do you mean, Hermione? Who's the he? He's who?"
"Hermione? Did some bloody git do something to her? Was it the ferret?"
Sputtering of pumpkin juice.
"It's Malfoy, all right! He snogged her! Right in the middle of the Great Hall! After he said something by someone named William Flake—"
Two voices in sync.
"What?"
"Um, it may be Slake, I don't know—"
Hands reach out to grasp shoulders.
"It's William Blake, Neville. What did Malfoy say?"
Teeth chatters.
"Um, Harry, I'm not sure, something about desire and restraint—I say, where are you going?"
Slamming of a portrait. In the distance:
"That bloody ferret!"
As always: If you like it, review it.