anythingbutgrey | HARRY POTTER NON-CANON SHIPS COMMENT FICATHON

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HARRY POTTER NON-CANON SHIPS COMMENT FICATHON

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Harry 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:

eleusis_walks

superkappa

by

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!

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

That was so beautiful! And, gah, the hotness!

he can't help but stare at her lips, remembers them curved into a scream in his dungeon while his aunt performed curse after curse after curse.

Such a powerful line. Great work!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You have no idea how happy this made me. It's so adorable and exactly how I pictured they were at the ball. Plus you even put in my mini!OT4 (Seamus/Lavender/Parvati/Dean). ♥ I just don't even know how to form a constructive review to this. I just love it so much.

THANK YOU

Draco doesn't remember what happened in the war. He took his aunt's lessons to heart, clutched them close like a mewling kitten, held them and stroked them until that was all he had left, and Occlumency shut away the horrors to leave his world soft and purring. I tried to talk with him about it once, once and once only, and his screams echoed in my ears until I fled weeping. Draco doesn't remember, and I cannot bring myself to remind him, because what he remembers instead is when we were young and laughing.

He does not remember what he did or why he's here, does not remember why his walls are stone and his bed is steel. He remembers the flower crown I wove and made him wear that May. He remembers the sunshine that warmed our bodies that June. He remembers the promise I gave him that July.

He doesn't remember after.

In Draco's world, he is sixteen, always sixteen, and his father will be home any day now, just you wait. He's sixteen and it's summer and he's lying beside me in sweet meadow grass, with his hand on my thigh and his lips on my throat and tell me again, Pansy, tell me again. He's sixteen and I'm arching up beneath him with grass in my hair and skirts to my waist and yes, Draco, please. He's sixteen and we're immortal and the only marks on his body are left by my teeth in his shoulder and my nails on his back.

When his eyes start to darken, I push back his fringe and lay kisses on his eyelids. When he drags his palm across the faded brand in his arm, I pull down his sleeve and lay kisses on his wrist. He doesn't remember the blood and the fear, and I want him to live in forgetting. I sit on the steel bed, lean back on the stone wall, and he pillows his head on my lap. I pretend I cannot see how sharp his hips are beneath the striped trousers, pretend I cannot feel the ridges of his ribs. I stroke his hair and lace his fingers in mine and I tell him about the streams and hills of our childhood. I tell him remember, we were young and laughing.

Remember, we chased toads and newts and got mud in our shoes. Remember, we ate berries until our mouths were purple and our bellies ached. Remember, we lay on moss in the shadow of a Roman wall and we kissed for the first time before either of us knew how to spell kiss. Remember, we traded Chocolate Frog cards because we didn't have rings, and I still carry mine in my pocket because he wrote DM+PP in one corner.

He is sixteen, and the stone walls are the cave where he first saw me bare to skin, and the steel bed is the rock under my back as he kissed me from instep to earlobe, and my short nose and square jaw are beautiful when reflected in his eyes. He sits up and he looks at me, and there is sunshine and summer in his smile. Pansy, he says, his voice full of that child's glee, that young man's awe. Pansy, I love you.

I set my head against his shoulder and turn my face to his neck so he cannot see the tears and he'll never remember anything except when we were young and laughing.

Haha wow! I'm glad you enjoyed it! I've never even shipped them before (and in my head, where Seamus is, Dean can't be far behind, and same for Lavender and Parvarti). So, yes, thank you!

After the war there is, of course, the after. It's when Harry can start referring to battles in the past tense. It's the space where the nightmares can begin to creep in. It means funerals ring daily, like the newspaper, with morning and late editions and there still doesn't seem enough time to bury all the bodies. If one can even find all the bodies. Harry stays for a month, maybe two. The days ache and reach over him, clutch him tight and remind him of duty and honor and the aftermath, the survivors he still has to protect even though he is so tired of protecting. There is a day when Harry wakes up feeling like there has never been a day where he hasn't had to save something, and it makes him angry, it makes him sad, it makes him leave.

Muggle London is good, though. Invisibility suits him. It's how he was raised, though he was then thrust into the depths of wizard stardom, and then the hazardous shattering of youth. Harry doesn't feel young anymore. He hasn't felt young for a very long time. He's entrenched in the Muggle world for weeks before he runs into anyone he knows. But, of course, one inconvenient day he stops to get a cup of coffee, walks out, and collides with a passerby, spilling it all over her blouse. He looks up to apologize and finds Hermione, mouth parted in surprise and clearly too shocked to be angry.

"Hermione," he whispers, and steps back. Two adults linger behind her; her parents, he assumes. He wonders, not for the first time, why he's never met them.

Hermione gapes for another moment. He looks back. Her face is pale and her hands shake; she doesn't even seem to be registering the coffee that is still dripping down the front of her blouse, spreading out like spilled ink. Then, her jaw snaps shut, a familiar anger flashes across her face, and she slaps Harry across the face.

"Hermione," Harry hears her mother gasp. He takes a moment to stare at the sidewalk, his cheek burning. When he looks back up, Hermione hasn't moved an inch, and her face is still caught in that familiar glare.

"Mum, Dad," Hermione hisses. "Would you excuse us for a moment."

She doesn't wait for a response; she just takes him by the elbow and pulls him around the corner of the coffee shop, to an alley so cramped he has to press his back against the bricks to keep his eyes away from the finger she's pointing as his face.

"You left us," she snaps. "No note. Nothing. Ron had to spend two days convincing me you weren't dead, when I'm pretty sure he wasn't even sure of it himself."

He shifts on his feet. "I just didn't know what to say—"

"Dear everyone, I'm not dead, just going out to fuddle about in London for a few weeks, no need to panic, bye, love, Harry. PS I'm sorry for walking out on your emotional crises because I'm an insensitive git."

He tries not to smile. It doesn't work. A grin splits his face within seconds and she looks like she could punch him until, a moment later, she too starts laughing, quietly at first and then uncontrollably, with her arms clutching at her sides and half-bent over with giggles. Yet, when she looks back up at him, he sees that somewhere in there, her laughs have turned to sobs and tears are streaking down her face and running down the length of her neck.

"Hey," he whispers, stepping forward and brushing some of the tears off her cheek. "Don't."

She shakes her head, taking in a shaky breath. "I was so worried. You're such a bloody idiot."

Harry smiles softly. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything," he whispers, still rubbing at the tears on her cheeks. "You know I would have come back eventually, right?"

Hermione looks away and Harry winces, remembering. The woods were so quiet and cold.

"I'm just getting tired of people walking away," she whispers, and Harry feels sliced apart.

"Hermione," he whispers, ducking his head until he can find her gaze. He doesn't even know what he could say, he just has to say something, has to try and mend it. If there's one person who understands the fear of being left, it is him. And, yet, she remains the one person who has never left him. This time, he left her. There are no words for that. There are never enough words to take that back. He says, "I'm sorry," but the words feel too small and can't contain it, can't contain the depths of this sudden regret that washes over him and scalds.

She shakes her head for a moment, and then sighs. "Just warn me next time," she says.

Harry smiles softly, and reaches a hand toward her. She watches his fingers for a moment, and then grips his hand tightly, clasps it between both of hers. "There won't be a next time," he promises, and, somehow, knows this to be true.

Edited 2010-11-25 05:19 (UTC)

OH MY GOD. YOU ARE MY FAVOURITE PERSON.

this was perfect. PERFECT. i laughed and then it was just so angsty and perfect and i love that she's just out with her parents and bam. oh god. i love this so hard.

I LOVE MY KIDS.

and you.

AND MY KIDS AND YOU.

thank you so much!

watching this space! (REGINA + OTPTIME. ♥)

Draco/Hermione, so drunk in the August sun, and you're the kind of girl I like. Because you're empty & I'm empty, and you can never quarantine the past.

I JUST SAW THE TITLE

YOU USED MY FAVOURITE LYRIC FROM MY FAVOURITE THAO SONG

OF COURSE YOU WOULD

OF COURSE YOU WOULD

FAVOURITE FUCKING PERSON. FAVOURITE KIDS.

he sees that somewhere in there, her laughs have turned to sobs and tears are streaking down her face and running down the length of her neck.

perfect. bc, hey, story of my life. every. single. time. and

and you just know how to write them in ways that always make my heart beat with hope ~~and forget the epilogue~~.

(http://s799.photobucket.com/albums/yy277/sweet_iolanthe/?action=view&current=tumblr_l58sjxplo71qbo8ae.gif)

~~let's pretend that's them. i just like hands~~

THAO IS APPROPRIATE FOR SO MANY FANDOM RELATED THINGS. ALSO MY FAVORITE THAO SONG TOO. WHO EVEN ARE WE, KAREN.

:D i love youuuu.

THAO IS MY FAVOURITE. I LOVE HER VOICE. ALSO SHE'S VIET-AMERICAN. WE KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOUT THESE THINGS.

AND YES, THAO'S SONGS ARE APPROPRIATE FOR EVERYTHING.

i wear him like a habit/in the lining of my jacket

PERFECT SONG FOR THESE KIDS? PERFECT SONG FOR THESE KIDS.

iloveyoumore.

also WE ARE THE BEST PEOPLE?

I love this so much.

This, especially:

The knowledge that they’ll remember him as a coward rises in his mind like fog, and, finding nothing it can cling to, dissipates. He’s forfeited his chance to be remembered any other way – though he wishes Sirius could know something, could be chased by the spectre of him in some way other than this, a way more solid, with purchase and finality. He’s read in the old poets what happens to unburied men.

And: the certainty that his life is also the longest thing he’ll ever do.

DAMN THIS IS SO SOLID I LOVE IT SO MUCH. I want to quote things, but the whole thing is just this clear, brilliant entity. I keep coming back to clarity, here, because you see them/write them so clearly and thus so do I. Voices: on. Prose: on. (You: you. Me: unsurprised.)

also. second icon, prettiest thing. (faces.)

:D ty bb. i love you. i always love when you say i ~illuminate~ these kids for you. mission in life, always. they have taken a part of me and will never let it go.

SAPPHO PROMPT ♥ oh i hope someone writes this or i may be forced to.

oh.

oh

my heart karen. I think you broke it. I think it is broken now.

This is perfection. Just. Wonderful.

The years go by and everything gets simpler and more complicated.

Well, she marries Harry, for one thing.

and

There are no sides anymore, no broad thick lines of good and evil, and she doesn't care, she doesn't care - they have all been fighting battles they've never been able to win. He's fought alongside her so much and she's not sure if she's fighting on the right side in this one, but it doesn't matter. The war has ended, the world is saved - they're just trying to put themselves back together.

Like I said. Perfection.

i have that fragment tattooed on my shoulder

sappho is my favorite

guh, stunning from start to finish. especially love the bit about forever. such a sense of menace and tension, oh, just beautifully done!

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Page 37 of 116

HARRY POTTER NON-CANON SHIPS COMMENT FICATHON

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Re: wonderstruck, seamus/lavender, pg

Draco/Pansy - When we were young and laughing

Re: wonderstruck, seamus/lavender, pg

harry/hermione - when i run, when i run like a bandit (1/2)

harry/hermione - when i run, when i run like a bandit (2/2)

Re: harry/hermione - when i run, when i run like a bandit (2/2)

Re: harry/hermione - when i run, when i run like a bandit (2/2)

Re: harry/hermione - when i run, when i run like a bandit (2/2)

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no subject

Re: harry/hermione - when i run, when i run like a bandit (2/2)

Re: harry/hermione - when i run, when i run like a bandit (2/2)

Re: harry/hermione - when i run, when i run like a bandit (2/2)

Re: harry/hermione - when i run, when i run like a bandit (2/2)

Re: harry/hermione - when i run, when i run like a bandit (2/2)

Re: harry/hermione - when i run, when i run like a bandit (2/2)

Re: harry/hermione - when i run, when i run like a bandit (2/2)

Re: sirius/regulus - want nobody to mourn

Re: harry/hermione - when i run, when i run like a bandit (2/2)

Re: harry/hermione - when i run, when i run like a bandit (2/2)

no subject

Re: Ginny/Neville - folie a deux

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Re: tom riddle/ginny weasley - two names