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Title: As they've Always Done
Author: Evandar
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: G
Genre: Romance/Fluff
Pairings: Irma Pince/Rolanda Hooch
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and am making no profit from this story.
Summary: Rolanda comes to escort Irma to Christmas lunch, and does so in her usual, irrepressable style.
Author's Notes: This was written for this year's![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
rarepair_shorts Wishlist event, for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
josephinestone, and it's based off her requests for 'fluff', 'Christmas', and 'falling for your best friend'.
Rolanda bursts into the library, much the way she used to do when they were students together – all smiles and fresh air and a mischievous glint in her hawk-yellow eyes. Irma glares at her because that is what she’s always done, and she tries to pretend that her heart doesn’t skip because that too is part of the routine.
Rolanda doesn’t stop. She barrels into Irma’s sanctuary without a care or a thought, and pulls Irma out of her seat and into a strange sort of twirling half-dance. Her arms are strong, and Irma has felt the touch of her hands enough to be able to pinpoint every callous and scar. She tilts back her head and laughs, and for a brief moment she’s a schoolgirl again. She lets Rolanda whisk her round and round between the stacks until they’re both breathless, and she sinks against her when it’s done – presses her face into the curve of Rolanda’s neck and breathes in the familiar scent of winter air and peppermint.
“Merry Christmas, Miss Grump,” Rolanda whispers into her ear, and Irma chuckles with well-practised tolerance. They’re lucky that the library is empty over the holiday – she’s not sure how she would have acted had any of the students seen.
She’s not shy. Not really. It’s been a long time Rolanda dragged her out of her shell, kicking and occasionally screaming; Rolanda had been an utterly improbable choice of best friend for the rule-abiding Slytherin that Irma had once been. A half-blood. A Gryffindor. A half-wild girl who wore men’s clothes at the weekends and her hair cut too short to be decent. She’d wooed Irma with teasing insults and fond smiles, and when Irma had eventually realised that she was in love with her best friend, she’d wooed her with soft kisses and bouquets of daisies as well.
And, of course, it had proved impossible to be both a proper, pureblood lady and in love with Rolanda Hooch at the same time.
“Silly old witch,” she murmurs into Rolanda’s neck. “Come to steal me from my books, then?”
“Of course, my lady. It’s lunch time. And you can’t read through Christmas dinner.”
The conversation is an old one. The kiss that Irma steals before she pulls away is intoxicating in its familiarity. They’ve become one of those old couples who are more a collective unit than individual people, and Irma doesn’t think she could ever be happier. She links her arm with Rolanda’s just like she always has, and rests her head on her shoulder as they leave the hush of the library and step out into the world together.
Just as they’ve always done.
Author: Evandar
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: G
Genre: Romance/Fluff
Pairings: Irma Pince/Rolanda Hooch
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and am making no profit from this story.
Summary: Rolanda comes to escort Irma to Christmas lunch, and does so in her usual, irrepressable style.
Author's Notes: This was written for this year's
rarepair_shorts Wishlist event, for josephinestone, and it's based off her requests for 'fluff', 'Christmas', and 'falling for your best friend'.Rolanda bursts into the library, much the way she used to do when they were students together – all smiles and fresh air and a mischievous glint in her hawk-yellow eyes. Irma glares at her because that is what she’s always done, and she tries to pretend that her heart doesn’t skip because that too is part of the routine.
Rolanda doesn’t stop. She barrels into Irma’s sanctuary without a care or a thought, and pulls Irma out of her seat and into a strange sort of twirling half-dance. Her arms are strong, and Irma has felt the touch of her hands enough to be able to pinpoint every callous and scar. She tilts back her head and laughs, and for a brief moment she’s a schoolgirl again. She lets Rolanda whisk her round and round between the stacks until they’re both breathless, and she sinks against her when it’s done – presses her face into the curve of Rolanda’s neck and breathes in the familiar scent of winter air and peppermint.
“Merry Christmas, Miss Grump,” Rolanda whispers into her ear, and Irma chuckles with well-practised tolerance. They’re lucky that the library is empty over the holiday – she’s not sure how she would have acted had any of the students seen.
She’s not shy. Not really. It’s been a long time Rolanda dragged her out of her shell, kicking and occasionally screaming; Rolanda had been an utterly improbable choice of best friend for the rule-abiding Slytherin that Irma had once been. A half-blood. A Gryffindor. A half-wild girl who wore men’s clothes at the weekends and her hair cut too short to be decent. She’d wooed Irma with teasing insults and fond smiles, and when Irma had eventually realised that she was in love with her best friend, she’d wooed her with soft kisses and bouquets of daisies as well.
And, of course, it had proved impossible to be both a proper, pureblood lady and in love with Rolanda Hooch at the same time.
“Silly old witch,” she murmurs into Rolanda’s neck. “Come to steal me from my books, then?”
“Of course, my lady. It’s lunch time. And you can’t read through Christmas dinner.”
The conversation is an old one. The kiss that Irma steals before she pulls away is intoxicating in its familiarity. They’ve become one of those old couples who are more a collective unit than individual people, and Irma doesn’t think she could ever be happier. She links her arm with Rolanda’s just like she always has, and rests her head on her shoulder as they leave the hush of the library and step out into the world together.
Just as they’ve always done.
