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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Thank you! ♥=D I'm glad you liked it. Still don't think I did the prompt justice though so I hope someone else fills this. =D

It was getter harder every day. Remus would hate Sirius for how devilishly attractive and charming he was, if it weren't for the fact that was why he was so apparently infatuated with him. And so he tolerated Sirius's overwhelmingly good looks, and his ridiculous sense of humor, and his penchant for getting into trouble, because that's what friends did. And if he wanked a bit later in the shower while everyone was down at dinner, well no one had to know about that.

But Sirius — dear, thoughtful, terribly oblivious Sirius — apparently could not take a hint. Remus supposed he never really needed to before, because hints were below him and hey, there wasn't a girl in the school who didn't want to blow him. But he also hadn't thought that Sirius could be so dense, for lack of a better word. Remus would sit across the table from him while they did their homework, and Sirius would brush their knees together. Remus would duck his head when they changed clothing, and Sirius would fling himself clad only in boxers across Remus's bed to steal a book from his nightstand. Remus would sit in an armchair to read a book by himself, and Sirius would perch on the arm of the chair, leaning over Remus to see what he was doing.

Every time Remus tried to keep away, Sirius found him, the perfect dog, metaphorically tracking him to the ends of the earth and back (though it was only to the ends of the castle, really, and they'd had that place memorized since about fifth year, so it wasn't a very big surprise). It was like a curse, a lovely, exciting, heart-fluttering curse that made Remus feel really, really masochistic.

And so it went on. James didn't notice, because James was deep in the process of wooing Lily, for once not failing miserably as he was apt to do. Peter didn't notice, because Peter didn't notice a lot of things, especially if it didn't pertain to James or Sirius. And of course Sirius didn't notice, because if Sirius noticed they wouldn't be having this problem in the first place. Remus debated telling him once, as Sirius danced about with joy after Remus had found his wand (how Sirius had managed to lose his wand in the first place, Remus really didn't want to know), but then Sirius grabbed him by the shoulders and planted a big wet kiss on his forehead in thanks, and Remus immediately clamped his mouth shut. Remus, if anything, was very keen on trying to keep things as least awkward as possible.

But it got harder to keep things normal, oh did it ever. It felt like Sirius unintentionally thwarted his plans at every move. The other boy was practically glued to his hip these days, and Remus was running out of kind ways to get rid of him. He could only do so much homework (which normally was guaranteed to shoo Sirius away) before people started getting suspicious. Thus he took to disappearing without warning, doing his work inside empty classrooms or out on the grounds if the weather was nice enough. It was in such a place that Sirius found him one day, absentmindedly scribbling circles on the corner of his parchment while daydreaming about sucking Sirius off in a bathroom stall.

"Remus, there you are!" Sirius's voice pierced his thoughts like an arrow, and Remus's hand twitched, startled, drawing a lovely dark line across what had been the beginnings of a Transfiguration essay.

"Sirius," Remus spluttered, wondering how Sirius had found him, only to spy the parchment map in Sirius's hand the next second. Curse that map, Remus sighed, face red and hoping that Sirius wouldn't ask him about it.

"We need to talk," Sirius said at once, and Remus froze, practically forcing himself to keep looking at Sirius and not turn away.

"About what?" he replied, trying to sound nonchalant, while his grip on his quill was practically fatal to the fragile thing.

Sirius was uncharacteristically quiet. Remus feared this was the end of everything he'd been working so hard to retain. Finally, when Sirius spoke, Remus had to stop himself from leaping up and trying to explain everything. "You've been acting strange, Moony." Now Remus was silent, so Sirius continued. "Is everything all right?"

"Everything's fine," Remus said, turning and attempting to sweep up the papers he had scattered across the table.

"No, everything's not 'fine,'" Sirius protested, striding forward and placing his hands on the table so Remus would stop fiddling with his things. "You've been avoiding us, going out alone a lot. Does this have anything to do with your — " He shrugged a shoulder. "You know, furry little problem?"

Remus shook his head. "No, Sirius, it doesn't. I told you, I'm fine."

"Stop lying, Remus, I can tell when you aren't being truthful" Sirius murmured, reaching out and putting a hand on Remus's shoulder. Remus could feel the warmth of Sirius's skin through his shirt, comforting and worried, and he stood up abruptly, batting Sirius's hand away. This was the final straw; Remus had to say something, normalness be damned.

"Sirius, I have been trying very hard to keep this friendship platonic," he said sharply, looking Sirius in the eyes as if daring him to interrupt. "But you, oh, you have been a perpetual nightmare — "

"Because I've been trying very hard to make it unplatonic!"

The first thing that came to Remus's mind was that "unplatonic" was not a word. The second thought was a confused, resounding, "oh." So Remus voiced this second thought out loud.

Sirius rolled his eyes as if he had been expecting this. "You twat, do you think I'd willingly sit around watching you do homework for fun? Because I wouldn't," he added, for extra emphasis.

Remus stared at him, still trying to process what was happening. Sirius couldn't possibly be saying what he thought he was saying, because that would be —

At that moment, Sirius leaned in and kissed him right on the lips, and Remus immediately revised his hypothesis. All right, Sirius was saying what he thought he was saying, and — heavens, was he good with his tongue. Remus let himself be lost in his (as cliché as it was) dream come true for a moment, silently berating himself for not having spoken to Sirius sooner about this. Blasted hindsight.

"You," Sirius told him after he had finally pulled away a little, "have been the biggest tease I have ever had the misfortune to be chasing after."

Flushed and smiling, Remus couldn't even think of a proper response except to grab hold of Sirius and keep kissing him. He'd spent much too long running away to ever let him go again.

Severus/Regulus

blood runs through your veins: that's where our similarity ends.
don't say it's easy to follow a process; there's nothing harder than keeping a promise

Severus/Regulus

we tend to bruise easily, mad in the blood

I could have stayed, whispered lightly. I could have grown old.

Awwwwww, so tragic. Lovely work! Thanks so much for filling the prompt! <33333

Neville pushes his sleeve up and shows her the words there, written over and over, cuts healed to purple bruises like something spilled. There is no army, the words say. Voldemort will always win.

I love this. Neville and Ginny's time at Hogwarts while the Trio are horcrux hunting is SO fascinating to me. Wonderful work.

I know, right? I'm so in love with them. I always think of this lyric for The Hunger Games, but I couldn't resist prompting with it here. ANGST CITY lol.

Thank you so much. I really appreciate it. <333333

Hermione/Luna

we are of reptiles
we are of stardust
we are of mercury
and these things are our kin

Hermione/Luna

throw caution to the wind
but I've got a lousy arm

There, on the bed that seems to have been transfigured to twice its original size, three bodies are pressed together and each of the boys is gripping one of her daughter’s hands and they’re fast asleep and they look like they’re so scared that they might be torn apart, even in their sleep.

This image is so beautiful and sad/sweet. Lovely work!

Remus/Sirius - i used to waste my time dreaming of being alive; now i only waste it dreaming of you

Severus/Regulus

build no temple / just remember
what you came from, who you are
and you're owed nothing / just feel something
and leave a trace of who you are

Claiming, but it's going to take me a few days. <333

harry/hermione | if you have children some day, when they point to the pictures, please tell them my name

It's after the war.

But, of course it is. It is always after the war. Harry thinks of things in before and after photographs—before the war, the cupboard; after the war, the house. Before the end of the war, the war; after the end of the war, the quiet. He has a whole list of them in his head, and it seems somehow foolish, like two years after the fact they should have moved on to somewhere, to that greener-grassed destination, but he doesn't know how to think of himself as something other than a soldier. Not anymore.

Hermione is in his kitchen. This is after he gets engaged to Ginny but before she gets engaged to Ron. They both know it's coming. It's been coming for a very long time. He's happy for them, they're happy for him, and he is trying not to think about what life will be like when they have their family and he has his, if that will change anything. If they'll only see each other for lunch once a month. Most of him knows that's preposterous, and that there are few things in the world more resilient than they are, but there's always that little nub. Which is, incidentally, the reason why Hermione is in his house, sipping jasmine tea in the middle of the night. There are certain things he can only speak to her about. Ron is about laughter and the light and stupid pranks and boyhood, that thing he never truly had but wishes he did. Hermione is something different. Hermione is the silences, the words he doesn't have to say, the quiet he has long since had engraved into his bones. Hermione is about the quiet, serious calm. The two of them—they're perfect halves of him, he thinks sometimes. But tonight he needs her.

"Ginny has been putting a lot of thought into tablecloths," Harry is saying, stirring some sugar into his tea and not looking at her. He doesn't have to. She's been watching him for the last ten minutes, waiting for him to say what he really wants to talk about. "Something about linens and some such."

"Yes," Hermione says, calmly. She won't press this. "I hear materials are quite crucial."

He sets his spoon down on the saucer. The light sound whispers through his kitchen. Hermione takes another sip of tea, and does not turn her eyes away from him.

"The Daily Prophet called it 'the most exciting nuptials of the year,'" Harry grumbles. He has a copy of the article in the living room, with his and Ginny's awkward pretend-smile faces at the lead.

Hermione laughs a little; it sounds like a faint puff of air with a smile more than anything else, but the smile is real. "The Boy Who Lived gets married. Of course there's going to be talk. You're you."

Harry shrugs, and stirs his tea for no reason. "I'm never going to lose that, am I," he says.

"Nope," Hermione says, smiling, but the smile turns sad at the edges. She knows he just wants to be normal, and that he can never be for reasons both outside and inside himself.

His mouth turns. "I just—" he starts, and then falters. She waits. "I just worry things will be different, now, after the war and with me and Ginny and you and Ron I don't want—us to fall to the wayside."

Her smile is crooked, far from here, and sad. He wonders if maybe she's been worrying about this too. He wonders if the us was about all three of them or if, suddenly, it's about the two of them, or if it has been about the two of them this entire time. Ron is something easy, something consistent, the kind of person he can shout at and not worry about if it will be over in the morning. Hermione is different. Hermione has always been different. Their relationship takes different form, the sort that Harry still has trouble naming. He worries that will change, with these new contracts and different homes across town and a Weasley scribbled after her name. Hermione reaches forward, and her hand hovers in the air for a moment before settling on his hand and entangling her fingers with his.

"Nothing could ever change us," she says, with something catching in the back of her throat.

He's not sure if he believes her, but, for now, it's the promise he needs.

Edited 2010-11-27 02:54 (UTC)

I'm in love with this prompt and I really hope that someone fills it. Taylor Swift for the WIN. <33333

YOU WOULD.

oh my god this is so perfect.

i might write this. i have many flights and layovers tomorrow.

(PS HI YOUUUU)

This is stunning.

Ron is about laughter and the light and stupid pranks and boyhood, that thing he never truly had but wishes he did. Hermione is something different. Hermione is the silences, the words he doesn't have to say, the quiet he has long since had engraved into his bones. Hermione is about the quiet, serious calm. The two of them—they're perfect halves of him, he thinks sometimes. But tonight he needs her.

Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees.

....

Damn it.

She still thinks of him sometimes, even though so many years have passed. They never do return to that house after the war; there are too many memories for it to ever feel like home again. So as she and her husband and the children begin to rebuild their lives, she finds herself thinking of him more and more.

It’s impossible not to know his name—he’s all over the news, a burst of flame in photographs. She knows his face the first time she sees him, even though she still imagines him wearing another. But she keeps the photograph, and all the others after it, in a small box underneath her bed. Even though more often than not he’s obscured by his more famous friend, even though his eyes seem to gaze out at everyone but her.

Mary Cattermole is a grandmother by the time she meets him again, at the station one September as the youngest ones are headed off to school. She smiles softly at him, and when he approaches she takes both of his hands in hers and lays a kiss upon his cheek.

Thank you, her lips form. His cheeks turn bright red and he nods curtly before stepping back to rejoin his wife. She goes home to her husband and a box of photographs.

Edited 2010-11-27 03:15 (UTC)

... it's about the two of them, or if it has been about the two of them this entire time.

BUT IT'S ALWAYS BEEN ABOUT THE TWO OF THEM AND HOW SHE BECOMES HIS BEST FRIEND'S WIFE AND I DON'T WANT THAT. I DON'T BUT OHH. HEARTS.

this is perfect. beautiful.

~~i need affair!fic now~~

this is an elyssa f. appreciation life.

taylor swift is my jolly blonde giant. she writes the songs that my inner fifteen year-old desperately needs. and sometimes i think she's secretly a harry/hermione shipper. i will talk to her about this sometime.

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Page 60 of 116

HARRY POTTER NON-CANON SHIPS COMMENT FICATHON

Re: Harry/Rose -- Mother Knows Best

Remus/Sirius - The Art of Persistence {1/2}

Remus/Sirius - The Art of Persistence {2/2}

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Re: close my eyes and pray to see a better day // pg //neville/ginny

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Re: harry/hermione -- this is my winter song to you (cont.)

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Re: R/Hr/H -- I'm Just A Little Bit Caught In The Middle (5/5)

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harry/hermione - my heart is holding onto you

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Re: harry/hermione - my heart is holding onto you

Re: harry/hermione - the thing to do (2/2)

ron weasley/mary cattermole ; photographs ; pg

Re: harry/hermione - my heart is holding onto you

no subject