Log in

My second fic... - Table for Three
July 24th, 2009
06:44 pm


Previous Entry Share Next Entry
My second fic...

Pretty much what the title would suggest.

the tired sunset of our fettered grace

LOST, have you seen ____? is how it starts. And the pompous, golden spellfire of air purifying bubbles as they kill themselves with handshakes and hugs and self-righteous egotisms of Magic Prevails!

The British Centre of Magical Disease Control say it's a magically infused mutation of Plague, she thinks- and she'd know - that the CMDC are (most definitely) full of shit. She knows Ebola when she sees it, she'd said. Ordinary, non-magical, muggle Ebola.

She finds their pride amusing.


 Shes knuckles deep inside herself, turned away from the oh fucks and yes' on the bed beside hers. She isn't ready. They each have their own madness to settle themselves to first, and she isn't quite there yet.

She sucks in deep when she cums.

The Hilton Somewhere (anywhere, nowhere) reeks of ash.


 They stop at a cafe somewhere in Newcastle. Survivor count dwindling and Body burnings duet with It's the end of the world as we know it (she'd always liked to hope humanity had a tad more class than that) and Ministry officials appealing for calm.

Harry licks their initials HRH etched red and raw into her forearm (she never did suffer boredom well) and plants a kiss against her forehead. She smiles, a funny sought of a thing, but it's all she can give them.


 Theres a field outside of time that's watched her twirl to her own emptiness. Dodging hands only she can see that pop up from below to trip.

She doesn't like to think of the others, resigns herself to the fact that they're gone and crawls in between Harry and Ron in the grass.

They trace her lips and her eyes and the curve of her neck with their fingers. Rest there heads atop her breasts in the sun. They've come to judge well-being by their physical proximity to each other.

The wind whistles through leaves and, thinking King's The Stand, she listens for the walkin' dude.


 Music throbs through her innards in the dark of the club, right down to her clit. She's walled between Harry (back) and Ron (front) and she's never felt more alive. They're fascinated by her. Her movements, her silence, her insanity, so different from Harrys whos is, again, different from Rons. They love her like this, moving and free and crazy and theirs.

She laughs, delightedly, hysterically, brushing herself against them as they sway. She's ready.


 Harry pushes into Ron as he enters her from behind against the hotel room door. Theres a dead man on the other side a little way down the hall but thats okay. She has her constants, everyone else can burn.

"Whe're okay," she moans, through the hands and the pleasure and the atrophy. "We'll lock the windows and the doors when the Blackbirds come to ferry us away."


The world ends on a wednesday.

Current Mood: discontentdiscontent

(4 comments | Leave a comment)

[User Picture]
Date:July 24th, 2009 09:48 am (UTC)
I really liked this. Very bleak, but then I've always liked end of the world stuff.
[User Picture]
Date:July 25th, 2009 07:11 am (UTC)
I've only just discovered my love of apocfic. I've been looking all over the net for it but theres very little. Fewer still in the potterverse and even less than that with my ships wich, granted, is Hermione and anybody you might see fit to throw her with, but my point still stands.

Thanks for commenting.
[User Picture]
Date:July 24th, 2009 07:42 pm (UTC)
I liked this one better than the other one, I think because even though it isn't exactly a happy ending, it's more along the "sticking together no matter how bad things get" line, and that's how I see them.
[User Picture]
Date:July 25th, 2009 07:14 am (UTC)
Yeah, I love that about them aswell. I really wanted to get it through in this though I'm not sure how well I did. Overall I think I did well.

Again, I really do like your icon.
Table for Three - A Harry/Hermione/Ron Archive Powered by LiveJournal.com