HARRY POTTER NON-CANON SHIPS COMMENT FICATHON

[anythingbutgrey]

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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:

<center><a href=http://anythingbutgrey.livejournal.com/774727.html>HARRY POTTER NON-CANON SHIPS COMMENT FICATHON</A></center>

<center><a href=http://anythingbutgrey.livejournal.com/774727.html><img src=IMAGE CODE HERE></A></center>

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 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!

Comments

[miss-mishi.livejournal.com]

Charlie Weasley/Nymphadora Tonks,
I want a girl with uninterrupted prosperity
Who uses a machete to cut through red tape

[laeria.livejournal.com]

Love this prompt!

[hyacinthian.livejournal.com]

Ginny/Neville, how many lives can i make? how many roads must i turn to find me a place where the bridge isn't burned

[superkappa.livejournal.com]

Harry/Luna - something they will never understand

[lint138.livejournal.com]

She's at the kitchen table, steaming cup of tea cooling to her left, going over copy of the Quibbler's latest issue. Quill rapidly scratching along parchment, she doesn't look up, but says "hello Harry" with a welcoming smile. A kiss to the top of the head is his reply, hands on her shoulders as he glances at the notes she's making.

"You're upset about something," she murmurs, still focused on her work.

He drops a Daily Prophet across her notes, a picture of him kissing her cheek at yesterday's Holyhead Harpies matches gracing the front page.

"Apparently I've gone mental," he mutters, nodding toward the commentary written below.

"Have you now?" She replies, picking up the paper, her too blue eyes skimming the text. "Hmm, they can't seem to fathom why someone as famous as you would want to be with me. Interesting."

"Interesting?" He muses. "Sweetheart, they're suggesting I be locked away in St. Mungo's simply for being with you."

"A good a reason as any, don't you think?"

Finally looking up at him, lifting a hand to rest on his cheek, she can see the cloud of anger still floating in his eyes.

"They don't understand," he says, nodding at the paper. "They just-"

"Love isn't something easily understood," Luna replies, fingers stroking gently.

Truer words Harry thinks before placing his hand atop hers, eyes closing for a second before leaning down to kiss her forehead. Leave it to Luna to alleviate his anger with a simple statement, make his heart beat just a second faster, and erase all doubt that other opinions matter.

"What are you working on?" He asks.

"Nargle invasion," she replies, turning back to her article. "Wales is overrun with them."

[i-rise-inside.livejournal.com]

harry/hermione

it's stupid how we always seem to do it again

[deadduck008.livejournal.com]

Forgive me? I just saw the movie so this came out like ANGST CITY but um, the general idea is there? And to think! This prompt immediately made me think of affair fic! DAMN YOU DAVID YATES! But enough preamble.

---------------

He doesn't remember how, but somehow they're both yelling across the distance of her living room and she's crying and no one's home and it's like that damn locket is on his neck all over again.

She collapses on a stool in the kitchen, exhausted, hair settling in a mass, shielding her eyes. Closed fists against her eyes, she starts -

"Why are we still doing this?"

He unclenches his hands, rubs his scar, unconsciously.

She turns to look at him.

"Harry?"

He can't look, can't breathe, it's always the same.

So he lies.

"I don't know."

She stands up, ever Hermione, ever in-charge, always knowing.

"Harry."

She holds his face, leaning her forehead against his.

"We weren't always like this."

It's true and it's stupid but ever since the hunt, since the wedding, since their first child and everything on top, he hasn't been able to act like anything but a fifteen year-old git.

"I'm sorry, Hermione."

She sighs, still holding his face and his hands come up to cup her elbows. He can almost smile when he asks,

"Why are you always right?"

Her smile back is broken like she knows he's avoiding the subject but she rests her head in his shoulder and for moments he just breathes. Nothing but their lungs expanding and collapsing and his eyes close, just for a second.

"Remember when we danced?"

It's a whisper in her ear and slowly, just a shuffle, he sways her weight once left, then right.

"Harry..." and her voice is warning, don't remember, and this is the fight all over again. Whatever happened without Ron didn't happen at all - the underlying currents of jealousy and a Pandora's Box that they've told themselves wasn't worth the trouble of opening.

"Harry..."

He's pulling away and smiling, almost, shaking his head and adjusting his glasses.

"You're right, of course... again."

She looks lost, hopeless, staring because again they're in the same room and lightyears apart.

"Tell Ron I say hi."

She turns back toward the living room, almost whispering her canned response,

"Tell him yourself."

[laeria.livejournal.com]

Narcissa/Regulus, allow me to be your humble servant, once again as before

narcissa/regulus - to heirs male of one's body

[falseeeyelashes.livejournal.com]

You died still a boy and you like to think that made you a man.

Cissy was your cousin, five, six, years older than you, and she liked to think that made her wise. It didn't. Maybe relative to you it did, because, Merlin, you were a sotted fool, weren't you? Pledging first your allegiance and then taking it back, taking it away once you realized what that expression "getting your hands dirty" really meant. Was it that you found it wrong, the idea of taking lives, or was it simply that you couldn't stomach it? Weak nerves and weak hands, and you never were as steady with your charms and hexes as your brother was (rest his soul, or go ahead, spit on his grave).

You liked the pretty things. You liked the things you felt you were expected to want. Your parents loved you for it, though perhaps out of simple virtue that you were not Sirius. You weren't Sirius.

That's what she said to you. You were sixteen and still a boy, long in the leg but still skinny and angry. "You aren't Sirius," she hissed against your mouth, and call it misplaced naivete, but you tried so hard not to understand what she was saying. You tried to be proud, you tried to say, "Mercifully so," with the right haughty blend of malice and malaise, but you failed, you were still a boy and she was a woman.

Did you want her then? Probably. She was such a pretty thing, and she still is now, though age has hardened her. You wouldn't like her as much now - you liked your diamonds freshly mined and still stinking of the earth they were taken from, not frozen over with time and use.

You two could have made quite the pair - sullenness wore you both well, the two of you half-enamoured with ideas but never their execution. That's why she married Lucius. Lucius and his cane, his black gloves and his obvious executioner's smile, sharp as the curve of a silver blade.

Is that why you did what you did? Sixteen years old and you pushed your skinny body against her own and thought you could take what you wanted. And you did. You pressed your mouth to hers, your mouth so unlike her husband's, a mouth young and inexperienced but not nervous, never nervous, but neither sure. She did not kiss you back, but she did not push you away. She took you in, an acceptance with a catch, but you didn't know what it was she wanted from you and you never bothered to ask. You never bothered to check these things, these people, you signed your name to, and you never would learn.

Sixteen years old and the Dark Mark had long been burned into your arm; you scraped your hands down her pale arms and made her know what your tongue against hers felt like. Eighteen years old and you were digging your own grave and then lying in it.

You never did find out what she wanted from you. You think - sixteen years old and in the foyer of your mother's house - you might have made her gasp.

[superkappa.livejournal.com]

Remus/Lily - But I mean nothing to you and I don't know why

Remus Lupin/Lily Evans-Depraved

[magic-knickers.livejournal.com]

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.

[miss-mishi.livejournal.com]

Charlie Weasley/Nymphadora Tonks

The poor boy changes clothes and puts on aftershave
to compensate for his ordinary shoes

[laeria.livejournal.com]

James/Lily/Sirius,

Seal my heart and break my pride,
I've nowhere to stand and now nowhere to hide,
Align my heart, my body, my mind,
To face what I've done and do my time.

[miss-mishi.livejournal.com]

Lucius Malfoy/Andromeda Black

please allow me to introduce myself, I'm a man of wealth and taste

[littledivinity.livejournal.com]

Hah, I actually did a little giggle and clap when I saw this. A+

[eleusis-walks.livejournal.com]

Sirius Black/Bellatrix Lestrange -

don't you wish you'd
never
never met her don't you--

lick my legs; i'm on fire

[miss-mishi.livejournal.com]

Cho Chang/Neville Longbottom


You'll find your place in the world girl
All you gotta do is stand up and fight fire with fire

[anythingbutgrey.livejournal.com]

OH GIRL YOU KNOW HOW TO GET TO MY HEART DON'T YOU.

WHY DON'T I HAVE ANY CHO ICONS.

[laeria.livejournal.com]

Dudley/Pansy, I wanna be your man

[ladysophiekitty.livejournal.com]

Harry/Hermione, magnet poetry

Harry/Hermione, I Would, pg-13, part 1/2

[downjune.livejournal.com]

They still buy each other Muggle gifts, and Harry knows it's because they want something that only they can understand and appreciate, that not even Ron can share. It's selfish, but they're 20 and it comes with the territory.

He finds her a magnet poetry set and she spreads it up and down the side of the fridge in the flat they all share. Ron doesn't even blink at it; Neville squinches his eyebrows together in slight confusion and leaves it alone; Ginny puts together a few sordid lines and the whole thing's forgotten by the end of the summer.

But Harry doesn't forget it, and when the flat is quiet, late, late at night, he looks at the words stuck to the fridge and frowns. He picks out a few and strings them together.

miss our heartlaughing

Then he climbs into bed, Ron quietly snoring in his, across the room.

In the morning (almost afternoon) when Hermione's gone to work, Neville's gone to his greenhouse, and Ginny and Ron are off at practice, Harry shuffles around the flat in his pajamas and stops in front of the fridge, steaming mug of tea in hand.

brilliant corduroy child

The words are right under his from the previous night.

Harry tends bar in a local Muggle pub, and before he heads off to work late that afternoon, he drags more words together, underneath the new ones.

you wake the universe

When he stumbles home from work, reeking of smoke and liquor, he decides to forgo brushing his teeth but checks the side of the fridge, smiling and tracing the new words with his fingers.

always dazzle every morning

Snorting a quiet laugh, Harry realizes that Hermione would know how to convey sarcasm through magnetic squares on a fridge.

Making his way down the hall toward the bathroom, Harry tries very hard not to hear the muffled noises coming from the room Ginny and Neville share. He knows they enjoy late-night fucking. Gin always did when they'd been together. She liked the sound of their voices under the blankets, in the utter darkness of their room.

Stopping in front of Hermione's room, he rests his palm on the door, his forehead a moment later. He hears nothing but his own breath and, before he can reach for the door handle, he retreats to the bathroom to wank before bed.

He forgets to put new words together for Hermione in the morning, but finds them there for him when he wakes.

we dance less than before

Harry smiles sadly and thinks about what he should reply for the length of his shower and breakfast. His ears burn as he carefully picks out each word. He's late for work because it takes him forever to find the last sodding pronoun.

come ask it of him

[hyacinthian.livejournal.com]

Harry/Hermione, cause love doesn't hurt so i know i'm not falling in love, i'm just falling to pieces

[poppypickle.livejournal.com]

GUH. This prompt kills me. I love it so.

[i-rise-inside.livejournal.com]

Harry/Hermione

china decorates our table; funny how the cracks don't seem to show.

harry/hermione - you can't carry it with you if you want to survive

[hyacinthian.livejournal.com]

He steps over the threshold and she offers him a slice of sponge and tea.

It's a familiar routine, something they've managed to concoct in light of marriage and children and adulthood and the notion, the ridiculous absurd notion that somehow, the war is behind them. The war will never be behind them. It lingers everywhere around them - future, past, present - and there is no pretending. Except for these times. Except for when they sit together and they avoid each other's gazes and they pretend that everything is perfect, war is over, skip to playing Lennon songs and preaching of peace.

There is no peace.

She's older now, bits of grey in her hair, but she's still so very much his Hermione, the one he remembers.

They sit at the table and talk of work first, always work first, because this is how things have always worked. He tells her the plan, she tells him it's wrong and how to fix it, and they keep on. The decorative border on the plates is wearing a little bit from age and it always surprises him that she always serves him cake on the china he bought them as a wedding gift. He's not quite sure why. Instead, he runs his thumb along the spot where it's beginning to fade, where the blue and white flowering ivy border starts disappearing into just plain ceramic.

They don't speak much.

There is always talk of the children because their adulthood is wrapped up in that, in children, even as they're still children themselves, trapped in the adolescence they never really had, the war that never really left them. He wonders if these little lunches aren't that different from the war meetings they used to have, her voice escaping from her in a rough cracked whisper like perhaps Death Eaters are waiting around the corner, listening in on their conversation.

"I haven't seen you," he says, quietly, "in so long, it feels like."

"Yes, well, the children have all kept us very busy, Harry. It isn't like we can just slip into the Gryffindor common room as we used to, is it?"

Her smile's a little too fragile and he's unsure of what to say; the only noise is the clink of their teacups.

He reaches for the milk when the thought just slips out. "The war wasn't your fight, you shouldn't have been there."

And she just looks at him, a flash of the angry Hermione he's familiar with, "Don't be stupid, Harry. Of course I should have been there. I was there for you."

He sets his hands flat against the edge of the table. Sometimes it feels like he grew up speaking the language of war and everything now, delicate dots of life in peacetime like impressionist paintings, everything is too clean for him to understand. It isn't his language, he doesn't understand, and the translations only go so far; he pushes it down but there are days, there are mornings when he wakes up in a cold sweat, hand reaching for his wand, only to realize that there's no need. The war is done, the war is done, the war is done, but the war was always in his blood and he couldn't run away from it and he still can't, and she - she was the only one who never thought to run away either.

"Sometimes I wish it could have gone differently," he says, voice cracking at the edges. Everything feels too much a lie, too quiet, too silent.

She turns her gaze towards the teapot on the table, the flowery decoration along the top of the lid. "We can't change anything."

He doesn't say anything, just tentatively pushes his hand out towards the center of the table, his fingertips brushing the tips of her fingers.

"I was always going to fight with you, Harry. But - " she takes a shaky breath, "the war's been over for a long time now."

"Not for me."

She twines her fingers around his then; the gesture feels achingly familiar.

They sit in her kitchen in silence, and pretend the feelings have faded.

The war is over.

[hyacinthian.livejournal.com]

Harry/Hermione, i should be much too smart of this, you know it gets the better of me

[hyacinthian.livejournal.com]

*for this, not 'of this'

[i-rise-inside.livejournal.com]

Harry/Luna

if i have one learned thing, your mind is not to blame.

[hyacinthian.livejournal.com]

Harry/Hermione, have you ever wandered lonely through the wood?

[lint138.livejournal.com]

In the spring he picks flowers for her hair, lush and full and deep. Walking along a true green path, watching the birds as they sing. The smile she wears, only for him, laughter slips past pearl white teeth.

In summer he dips hands into the river, cooling her skin wrought with heat. Walking along the still green path, feeding the chipmunks as they come to greet. The look in her eyes, only for him, the question popped so serene.

In the fall he shares a canister of tea, the cup huddled between. Walking along the browning path, all the leaves fading from green. The kiss she shares, only for him, eyes falling closed with need.

In the winter he holds her steady, avoiding a fallen tree. Walking along the snow white path, huddled together for heat. The ring on her hand, only for him, their journey through the woods complete.

[perfectlystill.livejournal.com]

Harry/Luna, the shorter story, no love, no glory, no hero in her sky

[mollivanders.livejournal.com]

Charlie Weasley/Luna Lovegood, dragons

"Dragons ..."

[amine-eyes.livejournal.com]

He's gazing at the bottom of his very tall glass wondering why, just why the universe decided today was the day to fuck with him when she enters. He doesn't look up as she weaves her way through the crowd, too busy analysing every fucking thing that went wrong - the Minister telling them of yet more paperwork to fill out, Harriet refusing to eat for the third time this week and the Healers having no idea whether it's because she's pregnant, moulting, ill, or simply in a huff, the visitors being so low this week that they're considering making a little award for how little people give a shit about these creatures, the pile of tax forms that he's considering making a coat out of, the toast burning this morning, being late for work and -

A flash of bright blonde hair in his peripheral vision.

He turns, vaguely registers the little frog earrings.

"Harriet's going to have a baby," she says, as though she's just discussing the weather, and Charlie lets out a sigh of relief, thudding his head on the table. He feels a hand softly pat his head like it would a good child, but his brain is too busy being flopped on a floor in relief somewhere.

Dragons ...

[hyacinthian.livejournal.com]

Harry/Hermione, they say that the winter clears the drains/that time heals all things/and they said that the thought of you would fade/ well, i see nothing change

[laeria.livejournal.com]

Rose Weasley/Scorpius Malfoy, Nice to meet you, Rose. Run for your life!

[softly-me.livejournal.com]

Yeah, you're awesome.

[superkappa.livejournal.com]

Neville/Ginny - I'm not asking to go dancing, I'm not that dumb anymore.

[mollivanders.livejournal.com]

Snape/Auriga Sinistra, January 1. Cut my feet on the coffee mug shards this morning. Forgot I threw that at him last night. Need better aim. Need to not drink Weasley punch ever again.

[hyacinthian.livejournal.com]

Neville/Ginny, you're naked except for a newspaper telling me 'fortune favors the brave'/i've never been known to be that brave

[anythingbutgrey.livejournal.com]

claiming, done, doing this tomorrow.