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operatingroomHarry Potter Non-Canon Ships Comment Ficathon
THE RULES ARE THUS:
1. WHAT MAKES A NON-CANON SHIP? Anything that is not at least one-sided in the books. This means that Snape/Lily is canon, even if she may (or may not) have ever reciprocated. Bellatrix/Voldemort is canon. Lavendar/Ron is canon. Obviously everyone who's married and/or dates is canon. OBHWF is canon, Harry/Cho is canon. Ships that are not stated as fact in the books are not canon. That means UC ships are good, slash is good, femslash is good. For our purposes, we are not counting JKR's interviews as canon. That means that if you wanted to prompt, say, who knows, Hannah/Neville, you could, because it's not in the text itself.
2. You leave a comment with a pairing and a prompt. You respond to prompts that you like. Your prompt must pertain to a non-canon ship. You may specify a character within that ship if you want the fic written from that characters perspective. You may also specify a timeline if you'd like, or if you want it to take place in the movie!verse.
3. When writing fic, put in your title SHIP - TITLE OF FIC (rating optional). This will help us archive if we later archive things. I don't have time to archive anything right now, but if someone wants to volunteer, we can make that happen.
4. LEAVE FEEDBACK. Comments are the lifeblood of the internet.
5. NO WANK. I'll delete your ass. And we're dealing with ships and I am deletion happy, so watch yourself.
6. There will be spoilers for the movie all over this post, I am sure. You have been warned.
7. Promote this if you please. You can use this code:
For text link:
In the image code box, you can use any of the banners below or the lead banner at the top of the post.
They're all uploaded to tinypic, so you can just copy/paste the source code:
by eleusis_walks
by superkappaby
lenina20:
If you want to make your own banner, please post it here.
Have fun!
ETA:
effingeden has graciously offered to archive our prompts and fic here. Thanks so much!
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Re: QUESTIONS/COMMENTS/GENERAL THOUGHTS
Date: 2010-11-24 04:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-24 04:24 am (UTC)Thank you sooooo much! ♥♥♥
no subject
Date: 2010-11-24 04:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-24 04:36 am (UTC)Re: Harry/Hermione - the geography of anniversaries
Date: 2010-11-24 04:39 am (UTC)Re: harry/hermione -- this is my winter song to you (cont.)
Date: 2010-11-24 04:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-24 04:42 am (UTC)So very nice - I'll hold your hands, they're just like ice. Baby it's cold outside.
no subject
Date: 2010-11-24 04:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-24 04:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-24 04:46 am (UTC)Harry/Hermione - upon an open window
Date: 2010-11-24 04:47 am (UTC)The kitchen is hidden from view. Hermione can see her mother from the grass. Her hands slip into her pockets.
"It's about that time, you know," she murmurs to Harry. He's been standing at her side, watching and waiting; you don't understand, she wants to say. It's not about why, it's how, and there are all sorts of ironies that are attached to each label.
"Time?" he still asks.
She gives him a small smile and shrugs. "She makes tea," she says. "It's both for her and dad, but usually, mostly, she knows it's just going to be for her. Sometimes dad works too late."
Harry nods.
They're quiet again. They've been standing here, off and on for hours. Harry's taken her back to town, and then back to the small house here; she never imagined that they'd not come back to London after she had taken their memories. Selfishly, she hoped that they might've been compelled to find something, whatever that something -
She was missing and she wanted them to know.
"This is my fault," she says out loud and Harry slips his hand into hers, wrapping his fingers around the back of her hand. They press into her skin and she gives in to a small sigh. "It is," she insists. "I'm not entirely sure I did the right thing. I suppose it made much more sense then -"
She stops when she catches him looking at her. His glasses are starting slide off his nose. It wrinkles and she nearly laughs at the absurdity of it all.
"You could've asked Ron," he says.
"I didn't want to," she tells him.
"He - he has parents," Harry mumbles, and she looks at him in surprise. He shrugs, squeezing his hand. "He might understand a bit better than me," he adds, as if it were supposed to make complete and utter sense.
Instead, it makes her tremble. Maybe it's rage, maybe it's regret. Her hand tenses in his and she half-whirls right into him, throwing her arms around him and almost bursting with an apology. She feels his hand at her neck though, his fingers slipping around the back and her skin. They roll into her hair and she buries a slight sob into his shoulder, squeezing her eyes shut.
For a moment, they stand like this. It's not sensible and then it is; there are no thoughts of what's waiting at home, the expected decisions and the impulsive sense of indecision that haunts her in every way. But then he nuzzles her shoulder, and there's this small smile against her skin. She feels it at her shoulder, then her throat, and it's almost, not quite, but still a kiss all the same.
"I trust you," she breathes. This is all she says.
Re: harry/hermione -- this is my winter song to you (cont.)
Date: 2010-11-24 04:48 am (UTC)it's called the life effect (1/2) - ginny/neville - pg-13
Date: 2010-11-24 04:49 am (UTC)"They keep it in their desk. Figured it would be good for, you know, wounds—"
She's laughing, too, in spite of herself, pressing her lips together weakly as if she'd rather keep it in; laughter feels so much like a transgression whenever she stops to think about it, and besides which if she keeps it up so will he and he's bleeding through his teeth badly enough already. "Then your turn first," she says and passes it back to him, curling her legs over the side of the Room of Requirement's hammock to make room for him next to her.
He sips and hisses and she winces for the both of them. Looking next to her, she picks up the files. "Let's see what you've got."
"I just took what I could."
She shushes him. He's still bleeding.
"You did great, you know." She's in here, in the stack; so's he. "You always do." So's—Lavender, Dean (oh, she thinks, gut clenching, and puts it aside), a handful of names she doesn't even know, Creevey—and Creevey again, Dennis. Tiny little Dennis Creevey, who would volunteer and volunteer whenever they gathered up for missions even before he knew what they were doing. Tiny Dennis who got caught last time round, who's been in the hospital wing for a week now. She barely gulps before her wand's out, pointed at the papers. She drops them on the floor.
"Incendio."
"Ginny!" he splutters with a thick tongue, and she turns to him—he's stopped bleeding, the neck of the bottle's empty, and she takes it from him.
"You saw what they did to him, Neville!"
"We were going to read those—"
"Not his. I don't care. I want that gone. All of that, I don't care what it is."
She thinks of Creevey's arm—she can almost encircle it with her middle finger and thumb, and now she's seen it with bone shards sticking through the pale thin skin of the underside. Alecto Carrow had stuck her wand into his arm while they'd watched; she'd hissed Diffindo when it had touched bone. The air smells of burning parchment and there are no apologies in her heart. She wishes she could burn more.
Instead, she drinks, passes it back.
"Let's hope they forget he bloody exists."
it's called the life effect (2/2) - ginny/neville - pg-13
Date: 2010-11-24 04:49 am (UTC)"What, you think they keep better track than this?" Her throat warms when she chuckles, faintly. "I was shocked that they kept files at all, Neville. I didn't think the Carrows knew how to read."
He shoots her a sideways look and doesn't say anything at all, the corners of his mouth quirked up.
They are quiet. It is nearly morning, and they are quiet—here in the Room, they're often quiet; moreso and more often than anyone else, than she is anywhere else. Ever since they shook hands in the Gryffindor common room and vowed in short words that they'd keep this alive, they've fallen into patterns. Synchronous, she thinks. Synchronosity?
Oh, sod, she thinks, and tips the bottle between her palms.
"This wouldn't do much," she says. She gathers her legs around her, between them, and cocks her head at him, almost drowning her face in unbrushed red hair. "For wounds; we've got, you know—more stuff for that." Not much, every so often they raid the hospital wing, not that Madam Pomfrey puts up much of a fight (Neville's got a key, now), but still she thinks. "Stuff with actual—buggerall. Magic, innit. Or what's the point."
"I know," he says with a slow nod. "I just thought they'd miss it."
"Yeah."
"No."
"No?"
"No." He sits straight up—well, straighter up. "I mean—yeah, I thought they'd miss it, I bet they ruddy well will. But I took it—"
He casts a look of perplexing fixity at her face. Looks her straight in the eye, those astonishingly honest eyes of his; all she can do is stare back quizzically and wait for the sentence to end. "Because I wanted to," he said. "I took it because I wanted to take it, and that is—"
The bottle tipping back and forth ever more quickly, as if exhaustion has made her hands more restless than ever; she puts it down on the table and realizes, to her preposterous confusion, holding her breath.
"Why I took it," he concludes.
He's still looking at her. Every now and again he just—does that, looks at her like he forgets he's not not looking at her. She's used to it, very nearly. Not watching, not staring. Just that look.
"Must be nice," she says. "Wanting. The things that you want."
No one's more surprised than she is when she leans in and kisses him. No one can possibly be more surprised when he inhales swift and sharp against her lips and she presses closer—that first breath, sucking her in, his arms caught frozen by his sides. She didn't plan this. She didn't bloody plan one moment of this, not as her hand curls around the back of his neck, as her lips break free of his and she rests her tired forehead in the slope between his forehead and his nose.
"Gin," he says, "don't."
"Neville," she says, "please."
"We can't—"
"One reason why not."
His lips flatten; he's—looking again. Stubborn, and no words, and she wanted to love the silence, but not like this.
"You're the bravest bloody person I know," she says softly. "I want you to stay here tonight and be brave with me, can't we just—do that?"
His eyes drift slowly shut. "Where else am I going to go?" he asks, and she leans in. Presses her head into the crook of his neck and this time he curls back around her. His cheek against her hair. She presses a palm to his heart, fingers curling against his collar, and she finally feels his face change, smile. Her fingers move up to trace the curve of his mouth, broadening wider and wider—too wide, she thinks, for her to possibly have merited tonight. Broad hands on the blades of her shoulders, and she rests. The shallow breath in his throat a current under her lips, and she rests. He lies back, tall and comfortable, in the hammock, and in the spaces his body leaves open, she rests.
When she's drifting off, she swears to herself that she'll keep this in the morning.
no subject
Date: 2010-11-24 04:58 am (UTC)and i've captured you once but i wasn't quite right
so i'm telling you that you'll be safe with me
rabbit my claws are down
no subject
Date: 2010-11-24 05:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-24 05:00 am (UTC)'cause mr. charming don't come home anymore
and she forgets why she came here
Re: it's called the life effect (2/2) - ginny/neville - pg-13
Date: 2010-11-24 05:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-24 05:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-24 05:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-24 05:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-24 05:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-24 05:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-24 05:09 am (UTC)Re: it's called the life effect (2/2) - ginny/neville - pg-13
Date: 2010-11-24 05:09 am (UTC)I CAN'T BELIEVE I HAVE ANOTHER OTP
BUT: OT FUCKING P.
♥