fic rec — touching you, i catch midnight-harry/hermione
Hermione didn’t know when it had started, exactly. She suspected the roots were somewhere in her childhood longing for acceptance and the innate feeling of approval that came with doing things correctly, with learning all she could and getting things right, for once. But somewhere along the way, after puberty and hormones and the extrinsic upheaval of their last few years at Hogwarts (including the year on the run which she mostly preferred not to think about at all), it had turned into this: A fucking praise kink.
Died and gone to Harry/Hermione heaven, which looks like a park, with verdant blades of grass and swaying trees and a sun paler than milk in a tall crystal cool glass.
I cried (messy! Sniffles!) and I laughed (out loud! Several times!) and everyone is a delight, especially Ron.
Thank you for writing, @jolieunfiltrd it was truly a gift x
Special thanks to anon who reminded me of this fic xx
WAKE WITH THE SPARROWS — harry/hermione, professor, head girl hermione chapter three teaser
They meet again at a funeral.
Hermione is running from Old Sluggy - and he really is getting old now - Harry is, shockingly, trying to find him.
It’s as though someone has pulled these two seconds that their heels skid and their breaths falter, pulled these two infinitesimal seconds and stretched it out into an eternity that he’ll spend thinking about later.
The sun shines, the chatter carries in the wind.
It doesn’t feel right, he thinks, to feel this perverse elation on the day Professor Dumbledore is to be buried, but as the old man liked to say, Fihi ma fihi.
She looks back, and then at him, says, “Hello, Professor Potter,” and the wind carries the occasion back to him.
“I like summer light on you,” he blurts as he hastily puts out his cheroot.
Well.
At a funeral, no less.
Her blush is followed by a scowl of disapproval.
He should feel terrible about it, and he does. Mostly. But hasn’t felt wicked in such a long time - since before the prophecy, since before the war, - since he was a child - that for a moment, he feels oddly free.
