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!

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PERFECT. DEAR GOD.

Harry/Pansy; Sometimes I wish I were a little kid again, skinned knees are easier to fix than broken hearts.

I really enjoyed this prompt! I hope this did it justice.

Sometimes, when he first wakes up in the morning, George forgets that he ever had a twin at all. After a few blinks, though, he smiles, because Fred should be--

Realization hits him at this point, pulling a strangled sort of sound from his throat.

Angelina rolls over and continues sleeping today (she stopped waking up to see what was wrong months ago), remaining oblivious to his quiet sobbing. He's almost dry heaving, and it's particularly bad today, carrying this never-ending burden, though he’d never even think to complain. There's this hollow sort of feeling in his chest, like Fred clawed out his innards and took them with him to the afterlife, going to meet death with a piece of his brother.

Oddly, that makes him feel a bit better, thinking about his brother holding his heart.

After all, it was always Fred's to take.

Ron/Pansy; I never knew until that moment how bad it could hurt to lose something you never really had.

Severus/Narcissa; To fall in love is awfully simple, but to fall out of love is simply awful.

Bellatrix Lestrange/Amycus Carrow- I feel violent for you, lover

LOVELY. I think the fact that George marries Fred's ex is really, really telling. It's like she's begging us to go for the incest subtext which... sometimes I think she's just as perverse as we are.

Most definitely! I love her!

It's Snivellus and Prongs, with a splash of good ol’ Padfoot on the side, and you really can't believe that you're stuck in the same position as Peter--sad, sorry Peter, with his chubby cheeks and grimy, power-hungry hands.

Paralyzing guilt and unrequited lust and quiet desperation all war against each other as you sit and watch Lily wind her sticky fingers around their hearts and pull, leading her men to her like yo-yos jumping back.

They always jump back, depraved little boys that they are, with tongues lolling out of open mouths and glazed eyes wide with want.

You wish she'd taint you like she's tainted them, but you mean nothing to her and you don't know why.

this one kind of got away from me. hope you like.

***

Sirius gets you a snitch when you turn eleven, and the next year you join the Quidditch team. When you're twelve it's a crystal ball – you start taking Divination after that, and you're good at it. Fifteen, a beautiful model of the solar system that you know cost him months of pocket money. You ace your Astronomy O.W.L., and that summer he leaves you.

Now you're in your bedroom and it's a minute past midnight, and you're seventeen and Marked for half a year. You wonder what Sirius would have given you today, if he was still in your life – what to get, for the Death Eater who has everything? You let out a short laugh and feel a bit mad. A swift curse to the chest and a kick in the ribs when you're down is what, you think. It's what it's come to in this civil war.

But life has a funny way of countering you, because you see him that very afternoon in a scrap over a street corner in a Muggle village, you with Snape and Dolohov, Sirius alongside Lupin and Dearborn and one of the Prewetts, maybe Gideon. Dearborn blasts a chunk of the wall right above your head and you duck and spin out from beneath the shower of brick before you even notice that it's Sirius who's nearly just taken Snape out with a jet of green light that could have been a Killing Curse, Snape, who blasts Dearborn twenty feet back with something you can't identify before he throws himself down an alley and hides against the wall, panting, staring at you with nervous eyes. You trip and turn back to face the Order members, feeling blood hot on your temple, in time to see Prewett haring off after Dearborn and Lupin slashing a Stunner at Antonin – Sirius, you see it's him now, how could you not have noticed before? he begins to advance on Dolohov's prone form, but Lupin's eyeing you. You're exposed, and you don’t know why he hasn't attacked you but then he glances at Sirius and you realize, he doesn't want to do it with Sirius there. Sirius isn't paying attention, focused with a frightening vindictive malice on Dolohov, and you take your chance.

You shoot Snape a hard look and gesture shortly with your thumb – get Antonin, I'll cover you, you think, and you hope desperately he understands, and then just as Lupin's face flickers with understanding and he raises his wand you've sent an explosive reducto into their midst, the jet of light skidding into the ground beyond Dolohov with a colossal eruption of gravel that obscures Sirius and Lupin in dust, and you only think fleetingly that you hope Sirius is alright as Snape darts out from his alley, reaches Dolohov in two quick bounds, and Disapparates with him.

Then the dust settles and it's just you and Sirius and Lupin, both of them coughing and staggering to their feet. Sirius' eyes fall on you and he stops dead. Lupin is looking at Sirius; Dearborn and Prewett have Disapparated. Everything stops.

(cont'd)

Sirius, thunderstruck, wrenches his gaze away from you to glance at Lupin, face slightly panicked, then looks back at you with wide eyes. Nobody's moving and you almost want to laugh. Then Lupin steps forward and puts a hand on Sirius' shoulder, still looking at you out of the corner of his eye. Sirius gives a start, and Lupin murmurs something close in his ear. Sirius closes his eyes, nods, and Lupin steps back and disappears with an abrupt crack.

You face your brother in the street like a scene from an old Western, bricks strewn about, a streak of blood on the ground and more, you think, on your face. Sirius looks unharmed if very, very pale. Your wand is half-raised, his half-lowered, and then he says, voice unnatural and unexpected in the tense silence, "It's your birthday, isn't it?"

You can't help it then – you laugh, and drop your wand arm limp to your side and slump against the wall beside the alley. You see him take a step toward you and the laughter chokes in your throat as your wand shoots up again and so does his. He stops.

"Don't come any closer," you say, belatedly. You're already close together now, though, point-blank almost. Neither of you move, and staring into his face hurts more than anything, more than the cut on your forehead clotted with dust or the ringing in your ears.

You imagine that he'll lower his wand again and step forward and push yours aside, put his hand on your shoulder, and you'll say something pointless, like not anymore, not now, but he'll thumb at the wound on your forehead and heal it with a stroke of his wand, the sensation odd, like a zipper, and he'll murmur a happy birthday right before he kisses you – all he has left to give. His mouth would taste like avada kedavra, that acid savor. You think how you'd almost laugh again but instead you'd sob against his lips and kiss back hard enough to make you both forget, how when it was over you'd bury your face in his chest.

But that was years ago, and with things the way they are it comes as no surprise that all he does is take a step back, wand level, and mutter it then, unhappily, looking at your shoulder: "Happy birthday," right before he Disapparates.

You can hardly bear the reality of it. All he can give you now isn't healing or the love you had once, but just the gift of not cursing you – the gift of leaving, again. The sob you'd imagined comes then. But now that he's gone, it has no object.

Great, great, great. This was wonderful. I think the charactersiation was spot on and it was beautifully written. So nice. Thank you for sharing.

Ron/Mrs. Cattermole

you were my savior

twirling around like a Muggle kite: what a wonderful comparison.

She grabs his hand despite his protests, using all her body-weight to pull him out of his chair and lead him onto the dancefloor.

Role reversal at its finest.

(Except Harry's shoulders are rigidly optimistic, an almost-smile trying to peel itself off his face.

Except he isn't allowed to mourn.)

Hermione's fingers clench around his, going for encouragement or comfort, but ending somewhere between Look happy. For Ron. For me. and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have to be. But I am. She twirls to face him, a skip in her determined step, a glow sweeping over her skin. Her head tilts to the side and he sees a wetness brewing in her eyes. Probably from how surreal it all is--she's married now, after all. Probably, but maybe-

(Harry shouldn't hope like this. Especially not now.)

He squeezes back, going for congratulations and not I love you. She exhales shakily and Harry decides both messages were received. He's not surprised; he could never get it quite right, and she was always the perceptive one.

There's a slither, buzz, crash, hiss as fireworks light the sky above, drawing the entire party's attention. Harry isn't diverted. He looks at Hermione, the slope of her neck, the way it curves into her shoulder, the white dress hugging her hips. He thinks about how if he closed his eyes and concentrated they could apparate away. Go anywhere else and this wouldn't be real.

(Oh, but it's all too real. There are some thing magic cannot undo.)

Instead he splays his fingers on the small of her back, pressing her closer, watching her mouth form a small 'o' as she gasps in surprise. She settles her chin on his shoulder, her cheek pressed against his. He sways to her warmth and the systematic cracks forming inside himself. Closing his eyes, Harry remembers the lantern's glow and the slither, buzz, crash, hiss of the radio naming the dead.

She's slipping away but if feels like he is slipping away too.

He adds his name to the list: Harry Potter, the boy who lived.

There's a tap on his shoulder and Hermione detaches her body from his, gulps, hesitates--or maybe that's hope, tickling his scar again--and smiles softly.

"Let's look at the fireworks," Ron says, slurring slightly from all the butterbeer he's been drinking--a glass before the ceremony, a few after.

He reaches for Hermione's hand as she drops Harry's. He claps Harry on the back with enthusiasm, an ear-splitting grin on his face, cheeks to match his hair. "See you later, mate".

"Goodbye, Harry," Hermione whispers.

The vibrations hit his eardrums in finality.

He alters his name on the list: Harry Potter, the boy who forgot to die.

Lily/Sirius - this will be my last confession: I love you never felt like any blessing

Ron/Pansy - you wonder what your friends would say if they could only see you now

WOAH SO IN LOVE WITH THIS.
♥ ♥ ♥

D:!

This is absolutely perfect, and brilliant, and sad. I can picture it. Ugh, and then there is all this tension, because I am a big fan of Remus/Sirius as well, and having them the last people in that dueling scene, just ugh. Breaks my heart.

Poor Regulus. :(

P.S. I love your icon!

Perfect.

favorite ship is my favorite. I'll attempt this one. ♥

Thank you! Basically, I am shipping this a lot now, because it makes TOTAL SENSE and your prompt was awesome too.

WE SHALL SHIP IT TOGETHER. Mostly I was just like 'who are the hottest characters' but I actually think it works really well. Like, really well. I may write something myself at some point.

sdgkjsndg. this is so perfect. ♥

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Page 51 of 116

HARRY POTTER NON-CANON SHIPS COMMENT FICATHON

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Fred Weasley/George Weasley-Burden

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Re: Fred Weasley/George Weasley-Burden

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Remus Lupin/Lily Evans-Depraved

sirius/regulus - helplessly hoping (1/2)

sirius/regulus - helplessly hoping (2/2)

Re: I am outside; harry/hermione, pg

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Re: Ron Weasley/Luna Lovegood-Wonder

harry/hermione - a regret, you might say

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Re: Fred Weasley/George Weasley-Burden

Re: sirius/regulus - helplessly hoping (2/2)

Re: sirius/regulus - helplessly hoping (2/2)

Re: sirius/regulus - the cadence of a certainty, PG

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Re: Parvati/Charlie; things that make you feel better

Re: Parvati/Charlie; things that make you feel better

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