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Title: For Love of a Princess
Claim: The Hufflepuff House (Justin)
Word Count: 463
Rating: PG
Prompt: 9 - Love at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
potterverse100
Author's Note: Ilex should recognize this...
Yesterday, I realized something about myself. I am in love with a princess. A real, honest to goodness princess. At least, that’s what I’ve heard.
She doesn’t know I love her. No one does. I barely have known that long myself. Hufflepuffs don’t look outside their own kind for love – and especially not a Ravenclaw. How Ernie will laugh when I tell him. I’ll have to tell him or he’ll try to find out who it is that makes me sigh in the middle of Potions class. He’s such a bumblehead that he’ll probably end up asking her right out if she likes me back.
She doesn’t, of course. Probably doesn’t even know my name. Not only am I in the wrong class, I don’t fit the mold of the pretty boy around here. I’m not secretive like Harry or snarky like Draco or a Quidditch stud like Oliver Wood (Oh, the girls still have his picture up. I’ve seen it.). I’m the chameleon, the boy that no one notices.
My mother clucks over me, telling me that someday the girls will come running for my strength of character and quiet good looks. Strength of character? Last time I looked around, that wasn’t on anyone’s top 5 list of qualities for a shagging partner. And my mother must need glasses because the mirror tells me that I still have a long face and big hands.
She flips her long hair over her shoulder as she studies her Arithmancy book. I’ve been lost in the class all year. I only took it to be near her. Hermione has offered to help me out but I’d rather get tutored by someone else. Someone who makes my palms sweat whenever she’s nearby. Someone with hair that smells of jasmine.
I cushion my cheek in my palm and watch her from across the room. Merlin, she’s beautiful.
One day . . . one day I’ll ask her to show me how to solve a problem and then maybe I’ll see if she wants to go get a butterbeer in Hogsmeade. I wonder what she wants to call our little girl?
I’m hit from behind, the great hulking greeting of my fellow Badgers. “Hey, Finch. Coming to the pitch later? We’re thinking of playing a couple of matches.”
They crowd around me, talking too loudly for the others studying in the library. I can see her frown as she looks over at us. With a grimace of disgust, she picks up her books and walks away.
No. Don’t. I didn’t gotten up the nerve . . . but I was so close.
With a sigh, I pick my own study materials and herd the guys back out of the room. It’s too late now. The moment has passed.
Claim: The Hufflepuff House (Justin)
Word Count: 463
Rating: PG
Prompt: 9 - Love at
potterverse100Author's Note: Ilex should recognize this...
Yesterday, I realized something about myself. I am in love with a princess. A real, honest to goodness princess. At least, that’s what I’ve heard.
She doesn’t know I love her. No one does. I barely have known that long myself. Hufflepuffs don’t look outside their own kind for love – and especially not a Ravenclaw. How Ernie will laugh when I tell him. I’ll have to tell him or he’ll try to find out who it is that makes me sigh in the middle of Potions class. He’s such a bumblehead that he’ll probably end up asking her right out if she likes me back.
She doesn’t, of course. Probably doesn’t even know my name. Not only am I in the wrong class, I don’t fit the mold of the pretty boy around here. I’m not secretive like Harry or snarky like Draco or a Quidditch stud like Oliver Wood (Oh, the girls still have his picture up. I’ve seen it.). I’m the chameleon, the boy that no one notices.
My mother clucks over me, telling me that someday the girls will come running for my strength of character and quiet good looks. Strength of character? Last time I looked around, that wasn’t on anyone’s top 5 list of qualities for a shagging partner. And my mother must need glasses because the mirror tells me that I still have a long face and big hands.
She flips her long hair over her shoulder as she studies her Arithmancy book. I’ve been lost in the class all year. I only took it to be near her. Hermione has offered to help me out but I’d rather get tutored by someone else. Someone who makes my palms sweat whenever she’s nearby. Someone with hair that smells of jasmine.
I cushion my cheek in my palm and watch her from across the room. Merlin, she’s beautiful.
One day . . . one day I’ll ask her to show me how to solve a problem and then maybe I’ll see if she wants to go get a butterbeer in Hogsmeade. I wonder what she wants to call our little girl?
I’m hit from behind, the great hulking greeting of my fellow Badgers. “Hey, Finch. Coming to the pitch later? We’re thinking of playing a couple of matches.”
They crowd around me, talking too loudly for the others studying in the library. I can see her frown as she looks over at us. With a grimace of disgust, she picks up her books and walks away.
No. Don’t. I didn’t gotten up the nerve . . . but I was so close.
With a sigh, I pick my own study materials and herd the guys back out of the room. It’s too late now. The moment has passed.
