Lunch ;; Hermione & Peter

webheadedhero:

Peter had just started to spring off of the lamb when—the car was suddenly stopped. In mid air? 

"What the—" Reaching out, he touched a finger to the car. Turning his head to see none other than Hermione standing there with—a stick? OUt and aimed at the car. "…Okay, well that’s new." 

And that seemed to only tick him off even more. With another quick movement of his hands, a car was sent barreling right towards Hermione. Peter didn’t have time to think, only act. Leaping off the lamp, using a combination of his clinging powers and his strength, Peter pressed his palms flit to the car and caught it in mid flight. 

Looking up at Hermione, his voice filled with concern. “Get out of here! Go! Get as far away as you can!” 

Setting the car down, he leapt up and used his webs to slingshot him right towards Rhino. He was just about to make contact with him when he was hit by something. 

Crashing through the nearest building wall with a loud oof. He looked up to see the familiar yellow-clad costume of Shocker. And now he seemed to be turning his attention towards Hermione. 

————————-—And to think, she’d thought she was leaving all the chaos behind.
                        Now, Hermione realizes she may have effectively jumped from the
                        frying pan and into to the flame by moving here.

          Unfortunately, now is most certainly not the time to
          be thinking of such things, as another car has been
          hurled in her direction. Hermione’s ready, want out,
          tongue on an incantation—- but there’s no need. The
          spider-like man has thrown himself at the car, and
          for a brief moment, Hermione has a sinking feeling
          that he will be crushed. But that’s not the case—the
           car is easily moved away as he yells something to
           her about getting to safety

                                                                                      —something about that voice

“It’s fine!”
                      She cries.
“I’m like you!”

       But she’s forced to assume that the man couldn’t possibly have
       heard that while being tackled through a building. She must
       have caught the attention of his attacker though, because not a
       moment later, he is up and heading for her.

                                She forces herself to breathe for a moment.
                                This is important. Obviously the man in yellow,
                  (she briefly wonders how sane all of the people
                   in the ridiculous costumes are)
                                is a danger to not only herself but to the people
                                around her.

   And all of a sudden there’s an explosion
     to her immediate left. It came from
     whatever was wrapped around the
     yellow man’s arm. The force of it, as
     it had missed her, causes her to stumble
     backwards, falling to the ground. Her ear
     is ringing something fierce and Hermione
     knows she has to take care of the man.

“Accio!”
            she screams as loud as possible, still quite disoriented, and the gauntlet
            comes flying from the man’s arm and to her. She catches it and looks
            back up to see him looking very unamused. To her displeasure, however,
            he has another one, but Hermione’s quick. She repeats the spell, and is
            rewarded with the other gauntlet.

                            She’s on her feet as soon as possible, though still slightly wobbly.
                            With a deep breath, she steadies herself, and focuses all of her
                            attention on the wand she has pointed at the yellow man.

Petrificus Totalus!


bloodyhcll:

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         “So, have you thought about what
          you want for your
birthday?

                 ”How about…
What’s your favourite book, Ronnie?”



posted on September 19th 2014 at 3:55 via bloodyhcll with 9 notes -- reblog

Don’t ever back me into a corner expecting me to break.

                           I do not go gentle.

             I will take every single tear I shed on your behalf and use it as ammo in the war that you started.

                               I will fight until I can’t fight anymore and I will win.

Because while I might seem fragile to you

                  { I have won more battles than you could imagine }

        and I am stronger than any warrior this planet could muster up.

                                                        You bite me and I will bite back.

           The trick is ——

                                         —— my teeth are [ s h a r p e r  ] than yours.



posted on September 19th 2014 at 1:59 via mischiefwithabite © wickedfatality with 5,471 notes -- reblog

Happy Birthday || Open

Open

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     She remembered being young,
          and waking up on a day like today.
          She remembered dashing to the
          mirror to examine herself for five
          or so minutes to see just exactly
          how much older she looked. She
          remembered it all—
       the buzz of being an entire y e a r older.
It was fantastic.

                                     Now, was slightly different, though.

                              Hermione didn’t hurry to the mirror when she woke up,
                              for it’d been years since she’d realized there was never
                              any progress to see. She merely opened her eyes, slowly,
                              as her body woke with her, and smiled. This birthday, she was
                              simply happy to be a l i v e.

                                                                         She was grateful that the war
                                                                         and everything it’d entailed,
                                                                         had not taken everyone she
                                                                         loved from her.

  Of course, that didn’t drive away her excitement
  when  the doorbell rang loudly through her flat.

                                                 It was her birthday, after all. 


Happy Birthday Hermione Jean Granger (19 September, 1979)



posted on September 19th 2014 at 1:16 via bloodyhcll © harrypotter.cc with 7,910 notes -- reblog

——-


You Didn’t Wait || Hermione & Ron

thekingofweasels:

       It was with great difficulty that Ron released the girl —
       no, she was a woman now, wasn’t she? — from the
       hug, his fingers still aching for contact with the warmth
       that he’d missed so much in his absence. Although
      simply being in her presence was doing wonders for
      the slight bit of uncertainty and anxiety that had been
      looming over him since he’d decided it was time to
      give up his new life and go back to the old one. As much
      as he’d enjoyed anonymity and the freedom that he’d
      obtained after leaving, he’d missed her.

                    Her absence from his side left a constant  a c h e
                   
in his chest that ever firewhiskey couldn’t soothe.

         Even as she stepped away to close the door, his hand
         found the small of her back, resting there idly in an effort
         to retain contact with her, even in the slightest way. Her
         greeting hadn’t been quite as warm as he’d been hoping,
         having wanted to drag her into the flat while snogging and
         possibly desecrate several pieces of Harry’s furniture. His
         best mate would have understood, after all. But the witch
         seemed closed off in a way, and Ron could imagine that
         she probably wasn’t happy with how long he’d been gone.

                     'm back. Told you I would be.
                          — ‘m sorry it took so long.”  

     And he truly was sorry — the length of his absence had
     extended far past what he’d initially thought, but neither
     of them would have truly been happy if he’d returned
     before he’d healed properly, and things never would
     have worked out well between them.

                    But now they finally stood a chance at being happy.

image

       “I missed you. A lot. I wrote letters but…
            Figured it be easier for you if you didn’t read ‘em.”

                 ”Yes…
                  You were gone
                                        an awfully long time…”

                 A heavy weight had settled itself uncomfortably
                in her chest, and Hermione had a terrible urge
                to turn away, and run from him. Run from the
               first person she’d ever truly loved in such a way.
               The urge near ate her up, and Hermione forced
               herself to stay calm—to look Ron dead in the
                eye and just…b r e a t h e .

                                                        And she did.
                                                               She let her eyes meet his,
                                                               those familiar eyes that
                                                               she would force herself to
                                                               think about during the nights
                                                               she’d spent alone, t r e m b l i n g
                                                               and w h i m p e r i n g under her
                                                               sheets having just been
                                                               woken by yet another terror.

              She was sure he could understand.
                      She knew Harry suffered from
                 something akin to the nightmares
           she had—probably worse. She could
          only imagine that Ron had been in the
                                                      same boat.

She’d needed somebody, damn it!

                                            When the mere thought of his eyes,
                                            or his touch could no longer calm her—
                                            when she was shaken apart by full blown
                                            panic attacks, she was forced to seek comfort,
                                            and that was a comfort that nobody like Harry
                                           could give her. It was something Ron had
                                           given her. And then he’d left. He’d left her
                                           alone to deal with the last seven years as it
                                           had all come crashing down hard on her.

                Hermione’s lower lip slipped between her teeth,
                and her eyes prickled with tears that threatened
                to fall. Her hands flew to her face, as she tried
               her hardest to steady and calm herself.
                               She needed to tell him.
                                                            He needed to know.

       She was merely not ready for the pain
      that this would inflict upon both of them.



Her Granger, happy birthday [ he hands her the newspaper ] you can shit on it like a proper animal. [ and he walks away ]

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  She can feel it rising
    from the very tips of
    her toes.
                   The h e a t.
                                        The heat of anger that burns through her body
                                         c r e e p i n g and c l i m b i n g all the way up to her
                                         cheeks where it flares red. 
                                                            The heat of anger that burns wildly in her heart
                                                             that was just, not moments ago, beating happily. 

                  She’s never expected
                  special treatment—or even
                  tolerable treatment from
                  Draco Malfoy—ever. She’s
                  never expected anything
                  but the worst from him. But
                  today? It’s her b i r t h d a y.
                                                     He is not allowed to ruin t h i s. 

     With one hand clenched around the paper,
     Hermione takes a deep breath. She sniffs,
     forcing the burning in the corners of her eyes
     away as she makes for his retreating back.
              There, she presses the crumpled newspaper
              between his shoulder blades, and slides it all
              the way down to his lower back. 

                                                                                            ❝ Actually
                                                                                                           I generally use the
                                                                                                           Prophet to wipe
                                                                                                          useless s h i t away


"I hope you like books, coz I got you a whole new set of 'em."

             ❝ Oh—Ron.❞

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She absolutely beams
at the pile of leather
bound volumes, before
she beams right at Ron.

                              ❝ Honestly———
                                        Thank you.❞

               And a kiss is planted delicately on his cheek

Lunch ;; Hermione & Peter

webheadedhero:

Peter didn’t waste any time as bolted right down the nearest alleyway. Bouncing between the buildings, he got to the nearest ledge and set his bag against it. Pulling his clothes off until all that was left was his costume.

Pulling his mask down, he leapt off and started swinging towards the source of the sirens. 

He was barely less then a block out when he saw a familiar figure running along. Hermione? Changing directions, he swung right for her and wrapped one arm around her. Pulling her out of the way and setting her behind a newspaper dispenser. “Easy there, kiddo. Wait here—this isn’t safe.” 

Was that a stick she had in her hand

Leaping away, he swing right for the center of the commotion. Landing on top of a streetlamp, he crouched down as he saw the behemoth in the iron-grey costume. “Aw, come on, Rhino we’ve talked about this. You’re taking the ‘concrete jungle’ thing way too seriously. Now, how about we drop this now before anyone else gets hurt, what do ya say?” 

Judging by the empty cop car he threw right at the webslinger, that was a no. 

     To put it kindly,
          Hermione absolutely
          shrieks when she is
          lifted from her feet,
          swung through the
          air, only to be
          plopped back down
          on the sidewalk. By
          a man wearing red
          spandex, no less!

                                         [ And, excuse her,
                                    did he just call her kiddo ]

                                            She only takes a moment to ponder over this,
                                            before she pushes from the sidewalk and
                                            sprints towards the …er…spandex-clad man.
                                            It seems fitting, as he is the only person, other
                                            than herself and some uniformed police, that
                                            is attempting to face the danger head on. That
                                            and, there isn’t any other person swinging along
                                            on sticky white webs. 

                  Briefly, Hermione wonders what sort of
                  magic that is, for he must be a wizard,
                  but the sight before her stops her short.
                  Flying towards the red man is a large,
                  heavy a u t o m o b i l e .
                                                                         Without thinking, her wand is in the air,
                                                                         pointed straight out in front of her as
                                                                         her feet continue to pound the pavement,
                                                                         moving closer and closer. 

Wingardium Leviosa!”
                        She cries, and the
                        vehicle stops in mid
                        air as she gently
                        let’s it drop to the
                        ground, clear of hurting 
                        anyone



posted on September 19th 2014 at 3:15 via webheadedhero © whispyotter with 13 notes -- reblog