Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter, it's characters, or Pink Floyd and their song titles.
A/N: These are a series of one-shots done for Ruby on a Gift Exchange on FNet. All of them are exactly one hundred words long, except for the last, which Kela made me keep as it was without editing it down (it hit at 158 words, if anyone was wondering.) They were all inspired by song titles from Dark Side of the Moon by Pink Floyd, without me ever actually having heard these songs. XD I hope you like them, Roob.
Speak to Me
She sat in the Gryffindor stands this time, Neville is thrilled to see. Decked out in his house colours, her unwieldy lion hat perched on her blonde head while she chats to Hermione Granger.
He stumbles up the stairs to them, forcing his way past Seamus and Colin, and squeezes into the small seat next to her. His palms are sweating, and he has to nervously wipe them on his pants as she turns to greet him. Her blue eyes are wide, and indescribably intoxicating; filled with mind-boggling thoughts. Neville holds his breath, just a bit.
Viktor Krum greeted her as she descended the staircase, a smile lighting his hawkish face. The entrance hall is quite empty now, just them and the champions.
Hermione bent over her Arthimancy scroll, frizzy hair pinned up with broken quills. She might've had an ink stain on her cheek.
A shadow fell over her, and she looks up to see Viktor Krum and fan club hovering over her table. She raised an eyebrow questioningly, and he grinned.
"Vill you go to the Ball vith me, Hermyninny?"
Ron is no where in sight, and she tells herself to breathe.
On the Run
Ginny ducks, twisting away from green light; and whips hexes over her shoulder, trying to Stun the Death Eater behind her. Hermione and Ron Apparated, but Harry was still standing ahead of her, waiting until she can reach him and her Portkey. How they were found this time, she doesn't know.
Coming on the newest Trio Adventure had seemed a good idea at the time.
She latched onto Harry, and they are spinning away, on the run again. He has not yet told her what they are looking for, and she doesn't think he will, but she has an idea.
The carriage rolls down the lane, Tom -she has learned this is his name- seated atop the bench like a king, surveying his subjects. Merope twists her basket of ingredients hopefully, batting her eyes at him. He doesn't notice, winking at Marietta Grouding from down in the village.
This does not deter her, and later, she insists to her father that it was she who the handsome heir winked at. She cries herself to sleep in the damp bedroom after he laughs at her, but she isn't really upset, because in time she knows she will be happy with Tom.
She found him hiding from Padma in the Entrance Hall, and it doesn't surprise her. Viktor left early, so she had been listlessly wandering the Hall, turning down dance offers. It felt nice to be desirable, but oddly uncomfortable to Hermione.
She pulls him out from his cover, and then the yelling begins. This fighting, this quaint little denial they share, is comforting to her. Her hair spills out of its knot, her face growing red as angry words spill from her mouth. Ron screams something back, but by now she's too caught up in her release to pay attention.
The Great Gig in the Sky
James is draped over her, ruffled head on her chest, his breath tickling as it glides over her sweating skin. This is the way Lily loves to see him -when he's most comfortable and open. She fell in love seeing him like this.
Hazel eyes meet hers, and she knows he's about to ask one of his confusing questions. After all, this is how he asked her to marry him.
"Lily," He plays with her wedding ring. "What do think dying would be like?"
"Why are you worrying? Now get dressed, Harry needs to see you in that Hallowe'en
"Mr. Malfoy, may I introduce our daughter, Narcissa Black." Lucius -because of course he knew me, we'd only been at Hogwarts together for six years- smirked and kissed my hand. His blond hair was held back in an elegant ribbon tonight, and his grey eyes bore into me.
It was the night of my coming out party, and everything else in my life was suddenly spinning out of control. This wasn't a night about me; not really. This was a night for all the old family's to scout-out appropriate marriage contenders. If I wasn't much mistaken, we'd just met mine.
Us and Them
When he first saw her, he thought her a miracle. Hagrid had never seen someone his size, let alone a pretty female, and Olympe was that and everything in between. They were walking in the garden now, and he was holding her hand; he didn't think he'd ever held anyone's hand before.
She smelt the roses as they sat under a fountain. Maybe he would talk to Dumbledore about keeping them after the Ball. Olympe liked them, and she was smiling at him in the faint light. This was it, now or never, Hagrid.
"Momen' I saw yeh, I knew."
Any Colour You Like
"I love you, Remus! You can't just ignore that!" Tonks' face was blotchy, and it was only the last remains of Metamorphmagus powers, locked away for so many months, that kept her eyes from clouding with tears. It didn't comfort her. "What makes it impossible for you to love me? Is it my hair?" She focused all her energy and managed to turn the mousy brown strands to a dull shade of blonde. "My eyes?" Those were soon green. "My nose?" From bone-straight to turned up.
"No, Nymphadora," he said in that hatefully detached voice. "It's not anything like that."
"You shouldn't have stayed; I would've understood.." Bill says, looking up at her with one eye still heavily bandaged, one scarred hand reaching out to play with a lock of her silvery hair. She only smiles, and looks down at him with such love in her eyes he's almost afraid she's faking it. How could she love him now, after all that had happened?
But she does, and her firm grip on his wrist only proves it; that a beautiful girl like Fleur would stay with him even now made Bill mind turn loops.
He was going to marry her.
The fighting had ended -or stuttered to a vague sort of truce- in her sixth year. She wasn't sure what had caused it, but now, as he maneuvered her into a dorm with startling ease, it became apparent. Or as bloody apparent as Draco Malfoy ever got.
They made it to a bed, he mumbling indistinct, possibly insulting curses into her red hair, and she ignoring him in favour of wondering what the hell she was doing. It made no sense, yet it made all the sense in the world. This seemed right, yet had to be wrong, because she could not be doing this with a suspected murderer who'd only just returned to school under the claim of pressure on his family.
She should be doing this with Harry.
But Harry wasn't here, was he? A voice whispered in her ear; and Ginny clung to Draco harder as he rose above her, the moon eclipsing the sun.