Hinny Microfic

Daily prompts for Hinny themed microfic! Our avatar is artwork by the fabulous @constancezin!

[hinnymicrofic]

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[ala-baguette]

Sunlight Through the Curtains

She was well past ready to get up. She didn’t know how long she had been lying there awake, but it was long enough that the slant of bright sunlight slicing through the gap in the curtains had moved in an arc across the ceiling. From the angle of the light, she calculated it was likely at least half-past ten, but she couldn’t see the clock from here. Her bladder was fit to burst and there was a rumble in her stomach as she contemplated what to cook for breakfast and hell, but she could murder a cup of tea right now.  Still, she didn’t rise. Her head turned to look at the sleeping face on the pillow beside her. He’d fallen asleep with his hand on her breast. His breath moved in and out through his nose in long, soft snores. Harry always could sleep like the dead on a Sunday morning.  She looked back to the ceiling, feeling the weight of his hand holding her there as though, even in sleep, he feared losing her. It was sweet. But damn, she really had to pee. Slowly, so as to avoid waking him, she rolled to her side, intending to swing her feet over the edge of the bed. His hand slipped down to rest over her navel as she did. Reflexively, without waking, Harry let out a soft sigh, wrapped his arm around her waist and tugged her backwards against him. Her body moulded against his snuggly, arse pressed firmly against his pelvis. She could feel the rise and fall of his chest against her back, feel each exhale ticking the hair at her neck. Her eyes fluttered closed as she felt the resigned smile stretch across her lips. She groped blindly for her wand on her bedside table. When at last her fingers had managed to grasp it, she flicked it at the curtains. The gap snapped shut with a slight clatter of the rings, and the streak of sunshine flickered out.  Her bladder could wait a little longer.

(Also on AO3 here)

[thenicestthingiveseen]

13: phone

im a day late i forgot. [gender au] @hinnymicrofic 189 words

“I just don’t understand why I need to know how to use this felly-tone thing–”

“Telephone.” 

“That’s what I said!”

“Gideon, it’s not.”

“Well, how am I supposed to figure out the difference between this blasted thing and telly-fissions and–”

“Television. They both use ‘tele’ at the beginning because it relates to transmitting sound or pictures at a difference.” Which only serves to make Gideon look more confused while Hermione looks mildly impressed. “Anyway, just call it a phone, Gideon. It doesn’t matter about the prefix. And I want you to learn how to use it because if we have kids they’ll be in Muggle school and we can’t be the only family that doesn’t know how to communicate with their teachers properly.” 

A shit-eating grin slowly unfurls itself on Gideon’s lips. 

“That was not a pregnancy announcement. That was a hypothetical. Now anyway, you need to dial 44 first and then…”

After two hours, Gideon successfully masters the art of the telephone. Hallie gives it month before she has to stop reminding him that he doesn’t need to yell into the phone. 

Welcome to the new millennium. 

[briarpotter]

@hinnymicrofic

Prompt: "Did you use the last bit of my shampoo?" "Technically, we both used it all–y'know, when we showered together–" (a pillow is thrown).

2004

“Harry!” She burst into the bedroom. “Did you use the last bit of my shampoo?" Harry had been folding the laundry, and he turned to face Ginny, bewildered. He smirked at seeing her naked, “Technically, we both used it all–y'know, yesterday, when we showered together–" A pillow thrown to his face cut him off, courtesy of Ginny.

“Harry!” She whined. “I don’t have any more shampoo, and I wanted my hair to smell nice when we announce our pregnancy!” Harry taking pity on her, walked into the bathroom and handed her his shampoo. “Here, you can use mine.” Sighing, she pecked her husband’s lips and walked back into the shower. Grinning, Harry went off to finish his chores.

A few hours later, they were all ready to leave. Harry had decided that they would floo instead of apparating. “You ready?” He asked, tersely. “Let’s go!” Nodding, he gently guided her towards the fireplace. He and Ginny stepped into it carefully, and with a handful of floo powder, he called, “The Burrow!” Arriving, they brushed the soot of their clothes and greeted everyone. Molly bustled into the room, announcing that dinner was ready. “Oh Harry, Ginny dear! You made it!”

“Yeah.” “Come on, Harry! Before my brothers eat everything!” Harry followed his wife into the expanded kitchen and saw the entire Weasley clan assembled there. They all sat down for dinner while the kids were playing in the courtyard. Ginny had been holding his hand the entire time, and now it was nearing the end of dinner.

She stood up, tugging Harry up with her. “We have something to say.” She announced. “You’re pregnant!” They heard 3 squeals from around the table. The squeals had come from Molly, Fleur and Hermione. “How’d you know?” He asked them curiously. “Are you really asking Hermione that, Harry? Surely you better than that?” Ron said. Harry chuckled. “True.” “It’s a mother’s instinct.” Molly said. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Fleur nodding.

“Ooh! There’s so much to do! You have to prepare the nursery, and buy baby clothes, Oh!” Molly jumped up while saying this, clearly showing her excitement. Arthur chuckled and got his wife to calm down. “I’m sure Harry and Ginny can handle it by themselves.” He soothed.

They nodded, and sat down. The table returned to the noisy chatter Harry loved to hear in the Burrow. He felt grateful for the familiarity as the excitement finally caught up to him. In his nervousness, he had failed to notice exactly how sexy Ginny looked in her dress, and now he suddenly had an appetite for something else.

[hinnymicrofic]

March prompts ✨️

1. Misty

2. Honeymoon

3. Luck

4. Train

5. Closed

6. Strategy

7. Yes

8. Yours

9. Fake

10. Control

11. Cliche

12. Berry

13. Phone

14. How

15. Please

16. Lick

17. Risk

18. Bang

19. Petal

20. Lips

21. Twinkle

22. Business

23. Million

24. Delete

25. Teeny

26. Fall

27. Champ

28. Long

29. Dish

30. Best

31. Slang

[hinnymicrofic]

March prompts ✨️

1. Misty

2. Honeymoon

3. Luck

4. Train

5. Closed

6. Strategy

7. Yes

8. Yours

9. Fake

10. Control

11. Cliche

12. Berry

13. Phone

14. How

15. Please

16. Lick

17. Risk

18. Bang

19. Petal

20. Lips

21. Twinkle

22. Business

23. Million

24. Delete

25. Teeny

26. Fall

27. Champ

28. Long

29. Dish

30. Best

31. Slang

[briarpotter]

Adorable

@hinnymicrofic

Prompt: “You’re adorable, you know that?” “What?” “Nothing...”

Harry watched as Ginny scrunched her nose with frustration as she tried to dry her hair with her wand. With a chuckle, “Here, let me help.”  He offered. Resigned to her fate, Ginny walked over to Harry, handing him her wand, and turned around so that he could dry her hair.

With a simple flick of the wand, Ginny’s hair bounced back to her natural curls. “Thanks.” She sighed in relief. He gave her wand back, and with a grin, he said, “You’re adorable, you know?” “What?” But Ginny didn’t seem to hear him as she walked over to the closet, looking for suitable clothes to wear. “Nothing.”

“I heard that.” Ginny called. Harry could hear the smile in her voice. “Heard what?” He feigned innocence. “Your compliment. You called me adorable.” “Because you are! You are so adorable and I want it all to myself.”  “Harry!” Ginny whined. “You know I don’t like being called adorable! I’m Ginny Weasley, Quidditch Player Extraordinaire, Fierce Witch with the best Bat Bogey hex known to man!”

“Ginny Potter now.” She felt strong arms engulf her and a husky voice in her ear, making her blush. She whirled around in his arms, grabbing his shirt and pressed her lips to his. She kissed him like there was no return, passionate, and bruising. She felt like she could kiss him forever, and felt safe in his arms in a way that she never had before. She was Ginny Potter, and she completely melted in Harry’s arms.

[briarpotter]

June Prompt #30: School

@hinnymicrofic

“Hey Lily-Love, how was school today?” Harry asked his daughter. He had just picked her up from the muggle primary school he and Ginny send the kids to. “Why is school so boring?” Lily whined. “School isn’t boring….. You want to go to Hogwarts, right? That’s a school.” Harry replied. “But at Hogwarts, I can make things fly, and today I learnt about Gravity.” She declared. “You have a good point.” Harry admitted, chuckling. “C’mon, let’s go home.” He said. “Ok.” Lily reluctantly took his hand and followed him to the apparition point.

They apparated home and were greeted by the sight of James covered by flour all over his body. Giggling, Lily asked, “What happened?” “We were trying to make cookies, but someone spilled all the flour.” Ginny answered, glaring at James. With a sigh, Harry pulled out his wand and vanished all the flour over James. “Scourgify.”  “Thanks, Dad!” “How you’re so messy is beyond me.” Shaking his head, Harry goes into the sitting room, while Lily stays to help her mother clean up the rest of the mess.

“Out, James!” Ginny condescends him. “Sorry, mum…” He mumbles, head bowed and eyes not meeting his mother’s. Ginny’s face softens. “It’s alright, Jamie. How about you go play chess with Al? Merlin knows he needs to come out his room sooner or later.” She suggests. Sighing, she decides that cleaning the kitchen by hand will be much more satisfactory than doing it by magic. She hands Lily a cleaning rag and gets to work. “Here, why don’t you clean the counters?” “Ok!” Ginny smiles at her daughter’s cheeriness. While there would be trouble in their house at times, she knew these little moments were special, and she cherished them all the same, even when she was mad.

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Prompt #1071

"I had a nightmare about you."

"Did I look hot in it?"

[swiftiesneversaydie]

Harry was walking through the forbidden forest, resurrection stone firmly in his grasp, hiding under the invisibility cloak until just the right time. Fleetingly, he thought about the life he was leaving behind, the future that couldn’t be. He thought about the days spent in the grass by the black lake and the feel of Ginny’s lips. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to wallow for a moment more. Just then, as if thinking of her summoned her to him, he heard her voice through the tree line. She was screaming frantically for him to come back to her. He was desperately trying to find a way to get her quiet down, to turn around and leave when he saw a green spell shoot out at her and hit her square in the chest. Her screams died in her throat. He throws the cloak off of himself as he jumps to cover her and he hears someone say “Harry. Harry. HARRY. Wake up!”—

Ginny was shaking him awake and saying his name firmly. He opened his eyes, reaching for his glasses and wand, then scanning the room. Ginny was eyeing him warily, waiting for reality to set in as she did most nights. The nightmares had decreased since she moved in, but they’d also started to change. Harry privately wondered if she’s so present in all of his dreams, normal, nightmares and frankly really pleasant ones, because her smell and touch was everywhere now as he was sleeping. She would pull him in as she fell asleep and stayed latched to him all night.

“Are you alright?” Ginny asked sleepily. Harry nodded and said “I had a nightmare about you. Well about… the forbidden forest and that night but you came before I could make it…”

Ginny frowned for a moment and then looked at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “A nightmare about me? Did I look hot in it? Out of 10, how’d you rate dream me?” She teased, she found that flirting with him was just about the best way to ease the tension. Sometimes she could pull him out of a funk before he could start.

He smiled crookedly at her. “10 for sure, but even still dream Ginny doesn’t even compare to just woke up Ginny.” He said as he reached for her. “Sweet talker,” she said into his mouth as they kissed, his hands tangled in her hair.

@hinnymicrofic

[sophie-hatter-jenkins]

Rose

Written for @hinnymicrofic February 2024, using December 2023 Prompt 28

Written with love, because everyone gets busy sometimes, and the world always needs more hinny! Also - as usual, stretching the definition of micro!

Rose sat on the bench, watching as the flock of pigeons pecked in the dust at the foot of Nelson’s Column. She enjoyed watching the birds. Everyone else seemed to hate them, to regard them as a menace, but she always found them comically amusing. 

She tried to come here most weeks, though it wasn’t as often now. The journey was too much for her aching hip. But she’d force herself if she possibly could, because what was the alternative? Sitting alone in her little flat? Rose much preferred to be out in the fresh air, especially on a day like this. 

Besides, coming here, to Trafalgar Square, always made her feel closer to her Stanley. It reminded her of trips to see the paintings in the gallery behind her, when they were first courting. They didn’t know much about art, her and Stanley, but the gallery was free, and neither of them had much spare cash in those days. Besides, it made her feel very posh, dressed in her best frock and hat, looking at the paintings. Afterwards, he’d buy them an ice cream, and they would sit together on these very benches, watching the pigeons, laughing together and falling in love. 

She sighed to herself. He’d been gone eleven years now, and it still felt like she was missing a limb, but sitting here, on a bright, sunny day, he didn’t feel so very far away. She smiled to herself, and closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in deeply as she allowed herself to imagine that he’d left her for just a minute to go and buy those ice creams from the little kiosk by the steps. 

Her eyes drifted open once more, and wandered over the other people gathered in the square. There was a group of school children, racing back and forth, and scattering the pigeons, while their increasingly harassed teachers attempted to corral them. Three young women that she thought were probably nannies chatted in Spanish as they pushed their young charges in buggies in the direction of Admiralty Arch and St James’s Park beyond. A man in a smart business suit carrying a briefcase was talking to someone on one of those new-fangled mobile phones. 

Then a young couple caught her eye. They approached from the direction of Whitehall, walking hand in hand, and eating ice creams. Hers was chocolate, and his was strawberry - exactly what she and Stanley would have chosen. She wasn’t sure exactly how she knew, but it was immediately obvious to her that they were very much in love. Perhaps it was the easy way that the girl tilted her head into the boy’s shoulder, or the way he dropped occasional kisses into her hair. It warmed Rose’s soul to see it.

They made a handsome couple, she thought. The girl was extremely pretty, petite, with a wicked smile and the sort of hourglass figure that Rose had so envied in her youth. She had long red hair that tumbled down her back, and a healthy crop of freckles dusting her skin both above and below her denim shorts and stretchy strapless top. Some of her friends at the bridge club might have had something to say about the substantial amount of skin the girl was showing, but personally, Rose thought she looked cute as a button. She liked to see the young making the most of their youth. It was gone all too soon.

Her boyfriend was tall and slender. At first glance, you might think he was skinny, but the lean, whip-like muscles visible down his arms below the sleeves of his faded green t-shirt told a different story. His hair was black, and very messy, and he was wearing wire rimmed glasses that reminded her of the ones Stanley used to wear. As she watched them, the light breeze caught his hair, and Rose saw a strange scar running down his forehead and through his eyebrow. She frowned, wondering what could have caused such an injury. It was a shame, she thought, that such a handsome face was so badly marked, but the girl didn’t seem to mind and that, supposed Rose, was all that mattered. 

Together, they wandered across the stone paving, stopping to look up at the statue of Nelson as the boy tossed the last of his wafer cone into his mouth. The girl gazed upwards, frowning as though confused, and the boy dipped his head to say something to her. The girl looked even more puzzled, then her face cleared, and she nudged the boy playfully, clearly catching him in some joke at her expense. The boy caught her wrists, grinning at her, and she giggled, then protested when he leaned forward to lick her ice cream. They were both laughing when he released her, and she offered him the remains of her cone. He made short work of it, and then drew her towards him, crashing his lips into hers.

Now that’s a proper kiss, thought Rose. The two of them stayed there, locked together, as though they were the only two souls in the entire city, and when they finally broke apart, Rose could see a look of euphoria on the girl’s face. Grinning broadly, she took a pace backwards, spread her arms wide, tilted her chin to the sky and began to spin around. She appeared to the woman as the embodiment of pure joy.

The boy just stood and watched her, his own expression making it clear just how besotted he was. His hand dropped into the pocket of his jeans, and even at quite a distance, Rose could see him swallow hard, as though he was bracing himself for something. A moment later the girl stilled, facing him. Rose thought perhaps he might have called her name. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then, the boy dropped to one knee, and in the same movement pulled a small red box from his pocket, presenting it to her. 

The girl’s hands flew to her face, which flushed bright pink, a vivid shade that clashed violently with her hair. She nodded vigorously, and her eyes brightened with tears. Gently, the boy took her hand, and slipped a ring onto her finger, then stood and pulled her back into his arms once again. A few minutes later, arm in arm, they began to stroll back up towards Charing Cross Road, passing quite close to Rose as they did so.

“Congratulations,” she told them.

“Oh! Thank you!” exclaimed the girl, beaming. The boy said nothing, only grinned.

Rose sat and watched them go. They both seemed so young, perhaps not even into their twenties. Once again, she was reminded of her and Stanley. They’d married young too, but then again, so had most people back then, eager to put down roots after the war. Stanley had worn his RAF uniform on their wedding day, and he had looked so very handsome. They’d been separated for so long, Stanley aboard a Lancaster bomber as a navigator, while she did her bit on the home front, working as a nurse at a city hospital during the Blitz, each of them facing terrible danger every single day. She remembered how terrified she’d been that he might never come back to her, and when she saw him standing at her door on that wonderful day when he did, the wave of relief was so powerful that her knees buckled underneath her. They’d been married six months later, battered and bruised and very much not the same innocent couple eating ice creams in their Sunday best in Trafalgar Square, but perhaps loving one another more fiercely because of it.

Twisting her shoulders, Rose could just pick out long red hair alongside a messy black head in the crowds, silently wishing them every happiness. She was glad they would never have to know the horror of a war that threatened their very existence, or the pain of an enforced separation where neither could be sure whether the other was even still alive. They would make a beautiful bride and groom, she was sure. 

The shriek of a delighted toddler, racing through the flock of pigeons momentarily pulled her attention away. When she looked back, the boy and the girl were gone.

[hinnymicrofic]

Quick update. Sorry for not sharing any prompts for February. I am almost buried inside work and couldn't create a prompt list. But y'all are welcome (and appreciated) to write hinny microfics with any prompt of your choice.

Please tag @hinnymicrofic and I'll reblog it to our little blog here.

xo

eyra

[briarpotter]

Prompt 15:Pick

@hinnymicrofic

The shelves of Flourish and Blotts were filled with the bustling energy of students and parents picking out their supplies for the upcoming school year. Harry and Ginny navigated the narrow aisles, their fingers brushing against the spines of enchanted textbooks.

Ginny chuckled as she picked up a quill with an ornate feather. "Do you remember the first time we came here together?"

Harry grinned, the memory flashing before his eyes. "How could I forget? You picked out the brightest, most outrageous quill you could find."

Ginny raised an eyebrow playfully. "And you went for the practical, plain black one. But I convinced you to get a slightly more colorful one."

Harry chuckled, his gaze lingering on the quills before him. "You always did have a way of making me pick the more adventurous option."

Ginny nudged him with her shoulder. "It's one of my many talents."

As they continued down the aisles, picking out parchment, ink bottles, and other necessities, the air was filled with the anticipation of the approaching school year. The mundane act of picking supplies became a shared adventure, a reminder of the countless times they had done this together.

It was these little moments of joy, within this enchanted chaos, that made it all the more worth it.

[swiftiesneversaydie]

Late for a January submission, but I didn’t see February prompts so I used two January prompts to make up for it. 1. Cold and 17. Feet

@hinnymicrofic

Ginny didn’t think much about the way that they slept. Unless he was gone, and then she missed it. Much later, the kids knew if dad was gone, moms bed was free game because she liked being able to hold them in their sleep, but if dad was home their bed was a kid free zone (mostly).

Harry thought about it all the time. He had never been held in his sleep before. Never felt someone love him subconsciously. These moments were deeply intimate for him; his hand up her shirt, her head on his chest, their legs tangled in a mess. He even liked feeling her cold feet on his legs, riding up the legs of his pyjama bottoms. Maybe he thought about it more because he didn’t sleep well, so he ended up holding a sleeping Ginny while she slept. Watching her face and reminding himself that he really gets to keep her forever.

Ginny had read him an article from a muggle magazine once that explained different sleeping positions and what they said about your relationship. Spooning meant protecting. The big spoon subconsciously protects the little spoon in their sleep. Keeping this in mind, it always warms his heart when he wakes up to find himself as the little spoon, his small wife with her leg hiked up around his hips, her head in the middle of his shoulder blades and her arm under his pillow. He’s never felt safer in his life than in those moments.

#hinnymicrofic

[briarpotter]

Prompt 31:Tear

@hinnymicrofic

The quiet of the Manor's living room was interrupted only by the soft crackling of the fireplace. Harry and Ginny sat close together on the sofa, sharing a moment of serenity after a long day.

Ginny glanced at Harry, her eyes reflecting a mixture of affection and concern. "What's on your mind, love?"

Harry sighed, his gaze distant. "Just thinking about everything—the battles, the losses. Sometimes it feels like I can still hear their voices, see their faces."

Ginny reached for his hand, a gentle squeeze conveying comfort. "You've been through so much, Harry. It's okay to feel that way."

A tear glistened in the corner of Harry's eye, and he blinked it away. "I know, but sometimes it's hard to shake off the weight of it all."

Ginny leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "You don't have to carry it alone, Harry. We're in this together."

[briarpotter]

Prompt 20:Gum

@hinnymicrofic

The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the Weasley garden. Harry and Ginny sat side by side on a worn-out blanket, the remnants of a picnic spread around them. The day had been filled with laughter and shared moments, and as the sun set, a comfortable quiet settled over the scene.

Ginny reached into her bag, producing a small pack of Muggle chewing gum. She held it out to Harry with a mischievous grin. "Ever tried this, Harry?"

He took the pack, studying it curiously. "Can't say I have. What do I do with it?"

Ginny chuckled, demonstrating how to unwrap a piece and pop it into her mouth. "Just chew. It's a Muggle treat."

Harry followed suit, and soon, the garden was filled with the rhythmic sounds of their chewing. A sense of playfulness infused the air as they blew bubbles and exchanged amused glances.

"See, Muggle things aren't that bad, are they?" Ginny teased, popping a bubble.

Harry smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief. "I suppose not. Especially when shared with you."

As the evening unfolded, the garden echoed with their laughter and the occasional pop of a gum bubble. In the simplicity of this Muggle treat, Harry and Ginny discovered joy in the ordinary, turning an everyday moment into a playful, shared adventure beneath the golden hues of the setting sun.

[briarpotter]

Prompt 19:Win

@hinnymicrofic

The cozy atmosphere of Potter Manor's kitchen enveloped Harry and Ginny as they engaged in a friendly board game. The table was scattered with cards, and the competition was fierce, though lighthearted.

Ginny smirked, surveying the cards in her hand. "I think this is my winning move."

Harry raised an eyebrow, feigning confidence. "Oh, really? Let's see you try."

With a flourish, Ginny played her card, and the tension in the room heightened. The outcome of this game seemed to hang in the balance, and for a moment, all other thoughts faded away.

As the final moves were made, Ginny grinned, laying down the decisive card. "I win!"

Harry mockingly groaned, but his eyes sparkled with amusement. "Well played, Gin."

Their laughter echoed through the manor as they reset the game for another round. In the simple joy of a board game, victory was sweet but shared, and the true prize was the warmth of their connection—a reminder that even in the smallest triumphs, the magic of their love always emerged as the ultimate win.

[ginnyw-potter-archive]

Voldie's dead written for @hinnymicrofic, January prompt 22: fret

Ginny looked a little tearful as she came in. She set down a little figurine, that sprouted miniature fireworks out of its wand as soon as it was put on the table.

Harry moved closer, a hand coming to rest on her knee. “Okay?”

She smiled weakly. “Yeah.” She looked back at the figurine and pointed at it. “George has been working on a post-war celebration line.”

“That’s one of the things?” Harry asked softly.

“It is.” She nodded, comfortably leaning into him. “It’s called ‘Do not fret. Voldie’s dead’. It’s launching on Sunday.”

“Fret,” Harry repeated softly, understanding the hint.

“Fred would love this,” Ginny said. “I ordered us a box. A little cheer could be nice, even if Mum is not ready for it.”

He wrapped an arm around her and pressed a kiss against her hair. “We all grief differently. You lost a brother, she lost a son.”

Ginny took a deep breath. “I know… I just know George needs it, needs this. I worry about him.” She met his gaze.

“Me too,” he admitted. “We do what we can.”

She nodded again. “One day at a time.”