For Firewhiskey Fics, no betas, autocorrect, or spell-checking are allowed!
Pairing(s)/Characters/Fandom: Hermione Granger/Ron Waaselety/Draco Mafloy/other HP Peeps
Challenge: AMORTENTIA and FLOBBERWORMS and possibly a bit of VILLIAN if you squint
Summary: The Daily Prophet contains startling headline news.
Rating/Warnings: PROBABLY R
Word count:1200 or so
Author's Notes (if any): I wasn't as drunk as I have been for past FWFs, but the 2 glasses of wine I had let me bang this one out. :-D
I REPEAT: For Firewhiskey Fics, no betas, autocorrect, or spell-checking are allowed!
"EXTRA EXTRA read all abouyt i!" The small boy with the flopyy wiard cap on his head waved copies of the Daily Prophoent over his head, hands grabbing the issues as fas t as he could fan them out. "GRANGER AND WEASLEY MARRIAGE A HUGE MISTAKE!"
Draco Malfoy pushed throw the maddening throwng and grabbed the kid by the lapels of his non-lapelled wizard robe.
"What are you talking about you litte runt? What do you mean it was, 'a huge mistake?' "
The kid writtgged out of Draco's grasp and shoved a ppaer into his face, which showed a moving photograph of a scwoleding Hermione Granger, shoving an equally scowly Ronald Weaslesy away from her. He was shoving as hard as she was.
"Read the story, guv! It's in all the news. Can't believe it. 19 years of wedded bliss has all come crashing down!" The boy started yelling and selling papers again. "GRANGER AND WEASLEY ARE SPLITSVILL! READ IT HERE FORST!"
Draco waked away from the newsstand in diagon Ally feeling daszed, sktaring at the photo of Hermione. She was 19 years older, but she was still able to make his heart stop in his chest. (where else would it sotp, after all? It's IN your chest, Dorko!")
Slouching manfully in the doorway of the Leaky Cauldron's back door, a move he'd perfected back in his school days, Draco began to read the article:
AMORTENTIA TO BLAME FOR THE BIGGEST MISMATCH OF THE AGE!
I, Rita Skeeter, your beloved reporter and fast friend, dear readers, am bringing to you the exclusive news that Hermione Granger, Britest Witch of Her Age (tm ) , has discovered through a serious seires of thorough tests that she and Ron Weasley, Biggest Ginger Git of His Age(tm ), were not meant to live happeily after eafther.
It seems that She and Weasley were under the long term effects of Amortentia love potion, which, as we all know, is the strongest love potion around. She realzdd that one of the key increadients to the potion is weird little gross and disgusting tasting mushrooms that you can buy for 10G a bag at the grocer, OR, you can pick for yourself iaoo all through the wild woods of Britain.
"We practically LIVED off those damned mushrooms all through our travails with Harry," said the still-shaken Granger. "I mean, the boys knew shit-all about hunting, and even after we heard someone catch a fish frm the river by using the Accio spell, we all thrwee were too hungry and downtrodden to relelber how to do it. So we kept eating those bloody fucking fungi. I have come to the realization that my innate abilities with magic someonhow trasformed my sinmple mushroom stew into a form of Amortentia. We all kept eating it and we only had the three of us to… um.. interacti with, sooo…" at this Granger blushed and would't elaborate. Instead, she said, "When I finally discovered this, I administered the antidote to Amortentia to all three of us: Ron, Harry, and me. The effect was instantaneous and we knew I was right."
Granger wouldn't answer my query as to what it felt like to have been sleeping and reproducing with a man who, for all intents and purposes, was like a brother to hger.
But Whne asked then why sihe didn't defelp feelings for Harry Potter instead of Ronald Weasley, Granger shrugged. Still blushing, she mumbled something about Harry probably having too deep an Oedipus Complex over Weasleys sister for the Amortentia clone to have a lasting effect.
"So you settled for the ginger?" this intrepid reporter asked, at which Granger snarled, "The war was awful, and hard, and lonely, and Ron has lots of good wualitlyes. Likle… um… Like…."
After several minutes of receiving no further answer, this kind and empathetic reporter asked, "So. Ms Granger. You are still relatively young, not even forty yet, isn't that right? Tell me. Is there anyone out there you've had your eye on all these years?"
Granger's eyes gaszed into the distance as she smiled fainytly. "There is one bloke whom I did fancy secretly all those years at Hogwarts. It's too bad things went the way they did. But one of the first things I'm going to do, now that I'm free to be me and am not under the feckless whim of some All-Powerful Force of Fate, is to go find that bloke and snog him senseless." She wouldn't answer any more questions about her mysterious love, however, so I changed tactics.
"Now that you are practically divorced, can you perhaps tell me, and all of the readers out there- – is it true that Ron Weasley has a Flobberworm-shaped penis?"
At this exchange, Granger shoved me out the door of her new Diagon Alley flat, where she has taken up residence. She has filed for divorce and is expecting it to be final any day now. She says she will remains friendly with Ron "Flobberworm Phallus" Weasely and they will share custody rights with the children. Time will tell if she takes up with her Mysterious Love of Yore.
Malfoy felt the paper being pulled from his grasp just as he finished the artiele, and he found himself looking into the tree-bark-brown eyes of the girl of his deepest fantastys and best wanks of his life.
"Granger," He said.
"Malfoy," she countered.
"Free of the Weasel at last, eh?" he drawled, examining his fingernails.
"Yes. Finally. I never could understand what I saw in him," Hermione said, crossing her arms and shaking her hgead. "It always felt like we were being forced together and made to be a happily married couple."
Malfoy looked upo. "I never understood it either, Granger," he sighed. "I told you that more than once. Remember? Those times together in the Room of Hidden Things? And down by the Lake? Don't forget under the Slytherin stands at the Quidditch pitch. And over behind Hagrid's pummpkin patch–"
"Yes, yes, yes! I know. I know you did. You were right. I wish… I wish I'd figured it out sooner."
Hermione looked up and down the Alley, which seemed to be emtpy for the moment. The Cauldron was in its lull between lunch and supper.
"So. Where's Astoria?" she asked. Draco shrugged. "Damned if I know. She's either with Blaise or Theorordor this week. They have an open relatiionship. Thank Merlin Im shut of her. Scorpius has turned out to be a decent kid, despite his mother,."
Hermione smirked. "AND his fatnher, I'd say."
Draco smirked back, waiting for her to make the next move.
Hermione kicked a pepple. "So… did you read the entire story?" Draco nodded. She leaned in conspiratorially. "It really IS rather like a Flobberworm," she whispered.
Draco snorted out a laugh, surprised and delighted at her revelation, and with even more delight, he wrapped his arms around Hermione as she grabbed hold of him, stoood on tippytoe, and proceeded to snog him senseless, right there in the back door of the Leaky Cauldron.