FIC: Game of Letters 6
May. 6th, 2014 02:30 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
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Title: Game of Letters 6
Author: KateKintail
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: post-Neville/Charlie
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not my characters, world, or paycheck.
Summary: A series of letters.
Notes; Written for hp_may_madness 2014
Word count: 200
Dear Charles Weasley,
Do you have a middle name? I never thought to ask. And I guess I’ll never know unless I run into Ron or Ginny and am brave enough to ask. Okay, we both know bravery is not the obstacle for me. Though that doesn’t explain why you’re never getting this letter. I won’t be sending it. Not because I don’t have courage. It’s because I know what we have is over.
It has to be. You’re always going to be in Romania. Having spent more time there than I was supposed to, I can understand falling in love with the reservation. Like I fell in love with you. Yeah, I’m saying it now that you can’t hear it. Maybe that’s why I’m saying it. But you’re in Romania with your dragons… and that luscious grass we fucked on. That tiny alcove by the nursery we snuck into to dry hump each other every other Tuesday. That watchtower where I gave you the first blow job—I suspect not your first one, just the first one between us. I’ll leave you behind and take all these memories with me to Scotland.
Love (there’s that word again),
Neville Longbottom
Author: KateKintail
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: post-Neville/Charlie
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not my characters, world, or paycheck.
Summary: A series of letters.
Notes; Written for hp_may_madness 2014
Word count: 200
Dear Charles Weasley,
Do you have a middle name? I never thought to ask. And I guess I’ll never know unless I run into Ron or Ginny and am brave enough to ask. Okay, we both know bravery is not the obstacle for me. Though that doesn’t explain why you’re never getting this letter. I won’t be sending it. Not because I don’t have courage. It’s because I know what we have is over.
It has to be. You’re always going to be in Romania. Having spent more time there than I was supposed to, I can understand falling in love with the reservation. Like I fell in love with you. Yeah, I’m saying it now that you can’t hear it. Maybe that’s why I’m saying it. But you’re in Romania with your dragons… and that luscious grass we fucked on. That tiny alcove by the nursery we snuck into to dry hump each other every other Tuesday. That watchtower where I gave you the first blow job—I suspect not your first one, just the first one between us. I’ll leave you behind and take all these memories with me to Scotland.
Love (there’s that word again),
Neville Longbottom