Princesses
Oct. 19th, 2007 09:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lesyeuxvertsTitle: Princesses
Author: lesyeuxverts
Word Count: 1100ish
Rating: G
Prompt: "something with Harry when he's little. I'd like to see what would happen if he'd been raised by Hermione's parents instead."
Warnings: AU
Disclaimer: Not mine.
AN: A belated birthday ficlet for![[insanejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/ij-userinfo.gif)
leianora … thanks to shadowenchild for the beta and to the slashchat girls for all of their help
Hermione found pink ribbons in the drawer, an opal necklace in her grandmother's jewelry box, and a set of curlers that belonged to her mother. They were pink, spiky cylinders that her Mum wore to sleep the night before she went out, swathed in silk and perfume, to special grown-up dinners. Hermione's Mum was the most beautiful person in the world.
The necklace was beautiful, too – the opals were arranged in silver flowers along the length of the chain, with spiky petals like starbursts. It glittered in the electric lights in Hermione's bedroom, lit with red-gold-blue fire from within.
Harry was waiting on her bed, pressing wrinkles into her quilted coverlet. His thin ankles kicked against the dark wood, jangling the brass handles that opened the drawers under her bed. He had been thinner still when they'd found him in a back alley in London, with dark shadows under his eyes and a chipped front tooth.
"I've found some proper clothes for you," Hermione said. She smoothed out the ruffled skirt, laying it on her bed next to Harry. Black patent shoes, a pair of stockings filched from her mother's drawer, the pink ruffled dress with its lacy neckline – it was a perfect outfit for Harry, roses to bring out the cream in his complexion. The pink ribbon would be perfect in his dark hair.
Her lip caught between her teeth and her brow furrowed in concentration, Hermione dressed Harry with care. She put his hair in the curlers, taming the wild locks into some semblance of order.
Hermione's mother was not here to help her tie up Harry's curls with the pink ribbon – she was in the office for the morning, busy with her "tooth-work." Harry and Hermione were her "real-work," but she had to do her "tooth-work" to keep the bread on the table. Hermione could tie the bow in Harry's hair without her mother's help.
Harry's knees were bony in the stockings – they were too big for him, bunching around his ankles. "We'll have to ask Mum to get a smaller pair for you," Hermione told him. "These don't fit."
"Okay," Harry said. He reached into the basket on Hermione's dresser, taking one of the sugar-free sweets that she kept there. The plastic crinkled as he unwrapped it, and when he popped the sweet into his mouth, it made a bulge in his cheek as he sucked on it.
Hermione leaned forward and twitched the bow in his hair, forcing it to lay flat. The curls had set without Harry needing to wear the curlers overnight – there was some magic in his hair. Even when Hermione's mother brushed it, it never laid flat, no matter how she cut it or tamed it.
The curlers had worked, though. The pink spikes had cut into Harry's scalp, making him wriggle and protest, but Hermione had given him a stern look and made him subside. She made his hair match hers – perfect curls for a perfect princess, that's what her Dad would say.
Hermione was a princess, too. She had put on her best dress that morning, and her Mum had tied the bow in her hair. She'd done it just the way Hermione had seen in a book – they'd looked at the pictures together, and Hermione had pointed it out to her Mum, the princess on her white pony, with a beautiful blue bow in her hair. The princess had a dozen ponies, and a library full of the most fascinating and oldest books, and a pond full of goldfish, and a golden-haired puppy.
Hermione had a bow just like the princess had, and she would have a puppy and a pony, too. She had asked her Mum and Dad to give them to her for her birthday. For now, she would use the library that her parents had, but when she was grown, she would have one just like the princess – and a castle, and a pond full of goldfish.
The last thing was the necklace. Hermione's was a string of tiny pearls that her grandmother had given her for her last birthday, and Harry's was the opals. His was prettier, with the fire dancing inside each pointed petal. Hermione had to give him the best, to make sure that he felt welcome – that's what her Mum said.
"Come on," she said, tugging at Harry's hand. "Let's go down to the kitchen and get some juice from Dad. Don't tell him you had a sweet … he might give us an apple, too."
Harry scuffed the black patent shoes as they raced down the stairs, giggles floating after them, but Hermione bent and smoothed the scuffs out of the leather for him when they reached the landing. "Come on," she said again. "You can't mess up these clothes."
Hermione's Dad wasn't in the kitchen. There was a flickering light under the study door, though, so he was probably doing the "book-work" and not in the office doing the "tooth-work" with Mum. Hermione didn't disturb him when he was doing the book-work – it gave him a headache and made him cross. When she was grown, she was going to do all of the book-work for him and he would never be cross again.
She knew where the juice was, and if she stood on her tiptoes, she could reach it down. The cups were a problem because they were kept up high.
Harry boosted himself up onto the counter when Hermione pushed a chair close, and he reached the cups down to her. "Don't take the glass ones," she told him. "Those are for Mum and Dad. The plastic ones are for us – you can have the pink one, to match your dress. I'll take the blue one today."
There were no apples in the bowl, but there were two oranges, and Hermione knew how to peel them. She helped Harry peel his, and they pulled two of the chairs out from the table, sitting underneath it to have their snack. "It's like a fort," Harry said, but Hermione told him that he was wrong.
"We don't have forts," she told him. "This is a princess's castle."
"Just wait until Mum and Dad see us," Hermione told Harry. "They'll see that we're just like real princesses. They'll be so proud of us."
With the white tablecloth hanging off the edges, and the shadows flickering on it like a lightshow, it was very grand – it was just like a palace. They were princesses, perfect rulers of their kingdom.
Author: lesyeuxverts
Word Count: 1100ish
Rating: G
Prompt: "something with Harry when he's little. I'd like to see what would happen if he'd been raised by Hermione's parents instead."
Warnings: AU
Disclaimer: Not mine.
AN: A belated birthday ficlet for
leianora … thanks to shadowenchild for the beta and to the slashchat girls for all of their helpHermione found pink ribbons in the drawer, an opal necklace in her grandmother's jewelry box, and a set of curlers that belonged to her mother. They were pink, spiky cylinders that her Mum wore to sleep the night before she went out, swathed in silk and perfume, to special grown-up dinners. Hermione's Mum was the most beautiful person in the world.
The necklace was beautiful, too – the opals were arranged in silver flowers along the length of the chain, with spiky petals like starbursts. It glittered in the electric lights in Hermione's bedroom, lit with red-gold-blue fire from within.
Harry was waiting on her bed, pressing wrinkles into her quilted coverlet. His thin ankles kicked against the dark wood, jangling the brass handles that opened the drawers under her bed. He had been thinner still when they'd found him in a back alley in London, with dark shadows under his eyes and a chipped front tooth.
"I've found some proper clothes for you," Hermione said. She smoothed out the ruffled skirt, laying it on her bed next to Harry. Black patent shoes, a pair of stockings filched from her mother's drawer, the pink ruffled dress with its lacy neckline – it was a perfect outfit for Harry, roses to bring out the cream in his complexion. The pink ribbon would be perfect in his dark hair.
Her lip caught between her teeth and her brow furrowed in concentration, Hermione dressed Harry with care. She put his hair in the curlers, taming the wild locks into some semblance of order.
Hermione's mother was not here to help her tie up Harry's curls with the pink ribbon – she was in the office for the morning, busy with her "tooth-work." Harry and Hermione were her "real-work," but she had to do her "tooth-work" to keep the bread on the table. Hermione could tie the bow in Harry's hair without her mother's help.
Harry's knees were bony in the stockings – they were too big for him, bunching around his ankles. "We'll have to ask Mum to get a smaller pair for you," Hermione told him. "These don't fit."
"Okay," Harry said. He reached into the basket on Hermione's dresser, taking one of the sugar-free sweets that she kept there. The plastic crinkled as he unwrapped it, and when he popped the sweet into his mouth, it made a bulge in his cheek as he sucked on it.
Hermione leaned forward and twitched the bow in his hair, forcing it to lay flat. The curls had set without Harry needing to wear the curlers overnight – there was some magic in his hair. Even when Hermione's mother brushed it, it never laid flat, no matter how she cut it or tamed it.
The curlers had worked, though. The pink spikes had cut into Harry's scalp, making him wriggle and protest, but Hermione had given him a stern look and made him subside. She made his hair match hers – perfect curls for a perfect princess, that's what her Dad would say.
Hermione was a princess, too. She had put on her best dress that morning, and her Mum had tied the bow in her hair. She'd done it just the way Hermione had seen in a book – they'd looked at the pictures together, and Hermione had pointed it out to her Mum, the princess on her white pony, with a beautiful blue bow in her hair. The princess had a dozen ponies, and a library full of the most fascinating and oldest books, and a pond full of goldfish, and a golden-haired puppy.
Hermione had a bow just like the princess had, and she would have a puppy and a pony, too. She had asked her Mum and Dad to give them to her for her birthday. For now, she would use the library that her parents had, but when she was grown, she would have one just like the princess – and a castle, and a pond full of goldfish.
The last thing was the necklace. Hermione's was a string of tiny pearls that her grandmother had given her for her last birthday, and Harry's was the opals. His was prettier, with the fire dancing inside each pointed petal. Hermione had to give him the best, to make sure that he felt welcome – that's what her Mum said.
"Come on," she said, tugging at Harry's hand. "Let's go down to the kitchen and get some juice from Dad. Don't tell him you had a sweet … he might give us an apple, too."
Harry scuffed the black patent shoes as they raced down the stairs, giggles floating after them, but Hermione bent and smoothed the scuffs out of the leather for him when they reached the landing. "Come on," she said again. "You can't mess up these clothes."
Hermione's Dad wasn't in the kitchen. There was a flickering light under the study door, though, so he was probably doing the "book-work" and not in the office doing the "tooth-work" with Mum. Hermione didn't disturb him when he was doing the book-work – it gave him a headache and made him cross. When she was grown, she was going to do all of the book-work for him and he would never be cross again.
She knew where the juice was, and if she stood on her tiptoes, she could reach it down. The cups were a problem because they were kept up high.
Harry boosted himself up onto the counter when Hermione pushed a chair close, and he reached the cups down to her. "Don't take the glass ones," she told him. "Those are for Mum and Dad. The plastic ones are for us – you can have the pink one, to match your dress. I'll take the blue one today."
There were no apples in the bowl, but there were two oranges, and Hermione knew how to peel them. She helped Harry peel his, and they pulled two of the chairs out from the table, sitting underneath it to have their snack. "It's like a fort," Harry said, but Hermione told him that he was wrong.
"We don't have forts," she told him. "This is a princess's castle."
"Just wait until Mum and Dad see us," Hermione told Harry. "They'll see that we're just like real princesses. They'll be so proud of us."
With the white tablecloth hanging off the edges, and the shadows flickering on it like a lightshow, it was very grand – it was just like a palace. They were princesses, perfect rulers of their kingdom.
no subject
Date: 2007-10-20 03:05 am (UTC)(I really want the next part, when Mom and Dad do see their two little princesses! hehe)
no subject
Date: 2007-10-27 12:46 am (UTC)If I knew anything at all about the Grangers, really, I'm sure the next scene would have been much easier to write! But I just couldn't picture them well enough, so ... well, there it is. :D
no subject
Date: 2007-10-20 03:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-27 12:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-20 03:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-27 12:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-21 07:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-27 12:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-21 08:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-27 12:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-23 04:15 am (UTC)I liked crossdressed Harry here -- too bad that Hermione's parents would likely have a fit over him in a girl outfit (or at least her father would). :(
Persephone
no subject
Date: 2007-10-25 04:49 am (UTC)I would have loved to write the parents' reaction, but I thought it was best to fade to black there ... we see so little of them in canon, I find it hard to write them.