HP FICLET: Gnorwlla (Ron/James)
Oct. 4th, 2011 12:05 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
katekintailTitle: Gnorwlla
Author: KateKintail
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Ron/James
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: JKR’s characters. I play for free and for fun.
Summary: Ron is back at Hogwarts and confused.
Notes: Written for thehpdaisychain. Written in, like, 10 minutes.
Ron knew it was a dream right off the top because he suddenly found himself back in Hogwarts. He was in his old bed in his old dormitory room. But he was older and taller, because he banged his head on the bed frame as soon as he sat up. “Harry?” he called out, and the door creaked. Ron jumped from the bed and darted out into the hallway.
Down the stairs, just disappearing from view, was a familiar head of messed-up black hair. He recognized the man’s stance and the set of his shoulders. “Harry!” he called. What was Harry doing here?
Ron rushed down the stairs, finding them smaller than he remembered. The Gryffindor common room was exactly the way it had been back in the day when they’d been students, the way it probably looked now that their kids were at school was the way it had always looked. Hogwarts had been nearly demolished and rebuilt just the same, the same timelessness.
The Fat Lady’s portrait swung open and stayed open. Ron raced over and looked out to see Harry at the end of the hall. “Harry!” But Harry didn’t react and Ron was forced to run after him. Through the halls, up the stairs, through doors, across rooms, down stairs. Ron’s head was spinning; he wasn’t even sure what floor he was on any more. Where was Harry leading him.
Finally, he reached a room that was a dead end. He was certain he’d seen the man go through the doorway, but Harry was nowhere to be seen there. The only thing there was a mirror.
Ron’s heart raced. He knew this mirror. The gold frame, the cloudy glass. The intricate designs. “Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohs,” Ron whispered, reading the words etched in an arc across the top. Cautiously, he approached the mirror. “All right, mirror. Show not my face but my heart’s desire.” He looked straight into the mirror, certain that this was where Harry had gone. Somehow, Harry was in the mirror and Ron’s heart’s desire would allow him to come back out.
Ron could see the image materialize in front of him, that familiar wild hair, those round glasses, that gentle chin, those curving shoulders, those hazel eyes…
“What the…” Ron gave a start. It wasn’t Harry at all looking back at him. Ron watched, amazed, as the man’s features became clear. The mirrored figure gave an inviting wave, and Ron was rushed, panicked. This wasn’t right. It was supposed to be Harry.
Not knowing what to do, Ron stepped closer. And, suddenly, he realized the mirror didn’t have any glass in it. If he wanted to, he could step up and climb right in. He could take James Potter into his arms and hold that body he was basically familiar with. He could kiss that mouth he knew so well already. He could run his hand through that hair, knowing exactly how it would fall or spring back into chaos afterward. “James,” he whispered. The connection he felt was impossible to deny. It was his deepest desire. The mirror had known it, even if he hadn’t. He wondered if he’d tell Harry about this when he woke up.
Author: KateKintail
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Ron/James
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: JKR’s characters. I play for free and for fun.
Summary: Ron is back at Hogwarts and confused.
Notes: Written for the
hpdaisychain. Written in, like, 10 minutes.Ron knew it was a dream right off the top because he suddenly found himself back in Hogwarts. He was in his old bed in his old dormitory room. But he was older and taller, because he banged his head on the bed frame as soon as he sat up. “Harry?” he called out, and the door creaked. Ron jumped from the bed and darted out into the hallway.
Down the stairs, just disappearing from view, was a familiar head of messed-up black hair. He recognized the man’s stance and the set of his shoulders. “Harry!” he called. What was Harry doing here?
Ron rushed down the stairs, finding them smaller than he remembered. The Gryffindor common room was exactly the way it had been back in the day when they’d been students, the way it probably looked now that their kids were at school was the way it had always looked. Hogwarts had been nearly demolished and rebuilt just the same, the same timelessness.
The Fat Lady’s portrait swung open and stayed open. Ron raced over and looked out to see Harry at the end of the hall. “Harry!” But Harry didn’t react and Ron was forced to run after him. Through the halls, up the stairs, through doors, across rooms, down stairs. Ron’s head was spinning; he wasn’t even sure what floor he was on any more. Where was Harry leading him.
Finally, he reached a room that was a dead end. He was certain he’d seen the man go through the doorway, but Harry was nowhere to be seen there. The only thing there was a mirror.
Ron’s heart raced. He knew this mirror. The gold frame, the cloudy glass. The intricate designs. “Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohs,” Ron whispered, reading the words etched in an arc across the top. Cautiously, he approached the mirror. “All right, mirror. Show not my face but my heart’s desire.” He looked straight into the mirror, certain that this was where Harry had gone. Somehow, Harry was in the mirror and Ron’s heart’s desire would allow him to come back out.
Ron could see the image materialize in front of him, that familiar wild hair, those round glasses, that gentle chin, those curving shoulders, those hazel eyes…
“What the…” Ron gave a start. It wasn’t Harry at all looking back at him. Ron watched, amazed, as the man’s features became clear. The mirrored figure gave an inviting wave, and Ron was rushed, panicked. This wasn’t right. It was supposed to be Harry.
Not knowing what to do, Ron stepped closer. And, suddenly, he realized the mirror didn’t have any glass in it. If he wanted to, he could step up and climb right in. He could take James Potter into his arms and hold that body he was basically familiar with. He could kiss that mouth he knew so well already. He could run his hand through that hair, knowing exactly how it would fall or spring back into chaos afterward. “James,” he whispered. The connection he felt was impossible to deny. It was his deepest desire. The mirror had known it, even if he hadn’t. He wondered if he’d tell Harry about this when he woke up.