Title: shatterproof

Prompt: #52, Astoria Greengrass Malfoy/Tracey Davis

Challenge: 2012 Mew and Mor's Weird Pairings Competition. Pairing: femslash. Format: freeverse. Length: 500 words (without additions).

Notes: This was written for M&MWP 2012 Competitions over at HPFC. Six characters... three pairings... one month... one drabble... one one-shot... and one freeverse... What have I gotten myself into? I've never written anything like this, though I'm far from inexperienced in the angst field. It's also my first femslash for this fandom. The pairing was founded by M&MWP, and so, without further ado... I present shatterproof.

Cinderella and Snow White and all those perfect princesses,


from Muggle storybooks;


Always will be.

A/l/w/a/y/s have been.

You wonder if that's why you like them so much.

They have happy endings -

and, yes,

maybe the ((villains)) still lose,

maybe the princess gets the ((prince)),

& maybe she's ((home)) before midnight,

but you can pretend.


You can pretend

that you're one of the h-e-r-o-e-s.

You can pretend

that you're a princess.

((That you even want a prince.))

You can pretend,

(above all, you can do this)

that you even have a home;

that ~midnight~ is s/i/m/p/l/y more than a


shush now,

quiet now,

d'you want someone to hear,

you insolent little -

But that's not part of your fairytale, no.


[In real life]


in real life...

that's when things get complicated.

Glass slippers cut your feet, darling,

and mirrors don't talk


{{They aren't shatterproof, either}}

Beasts are just that, beautiful,

& if you fall asleep forever,


don't expect to wake up.

That wardrobe's going nowhere, sugar,

and hey,

L O O K!

Alice is |awake|

and looking a little worse-for-wear.


Just try to fly, honey;

I'm sure your dear prince (more like princess)

will get a real kick out of it.

(Ten-feet up? Try fifty.

A h/u/n/d/r/e/d?

After all, it's so much more dramatic

than Avada Kedavra)

That frog you k-i-s-s-e-d?

-cue laughter-

Just a frog, love!

Nothing m-m-more!

And of course,

you already live in Emerald City -

you know that there's a ~wilder~ side to



Who the hell do you think you are, anyway?

A pureblood, yeah?


Maybe even that pretty, witty girl

betrothed to Draco Bloody Malfoy?

No, you're not;

you were,


You were once Astoria Greengrass -

and you were perfect.

The envy of your house, of your friends,

of (most importantly) your sister,

'cause you got the guy.

That's all that matters in the end, right?


But you don't want the guy;

Daphne can have him.

There's no love there -

he's no P.r.i.n.c.e C.h.a.r.m.i.n.g,

and I think you're starting to wake up

o^n y^o^u^r o^w^n.

You want the one you meet in darkened hallways,

late at n/i/g/h/t,

when little mice are done scurrying,

& Filch is done scuttling.

At night,

you d-i-s-c-o-v-e-r that your mirror isn't shatterproof,

but you don't really care,

'cause the only face you want to see is hers.


Don't you hear what they say?

Only bad witches are


And you're so-so-so ugly.

All *D*a*r*k magic,

and ~twisted~ fantasises;

no time for fairytales, no,

you're ugly,

and no princess is anything but perfect.

((Perfect - you hear that?

That's what you have to strive for, darling,

but what use is it,

g*o*i*n*g for g*o*l*d,

when you're starting two laps behind?))


Some part of you wonders why Tracey isn't off

chasing her very own FAIRYTALE,

'cause she's perfect,

just p/e/r/f/e/c/t,


and Astoria, babe,

even when she kisses you...


...You don't wake up.