The Girl in Question
Title: The Girl in Question
Fandom: Harry Potter
Genre: Femmelash
Rating: PG-13
Summary: She liked girls.
Notes: Thanks to wheatgerm for being a kick-ass beta.
The Girl in Question
She liked girls.
Loved looking at them, preferred kissing them, spent countless hours in class imagining how Daphne Greengrass looked in and out of her underwear, and orchestrating an ongoing soap opera in her head featuring Marietta Edgecombe, Cho Chang and a jilted Harry Potter.
"Ooh, you've gone blonde," Padma Patil said, sliding her specs off the bridge of her straight nose and planting them on top of her black hair. "I never fancied you as a blonde."
"You never fancied me before at all," she corrected the prefect with a wry curl of her lip. "Ran away from me several times, remember? How couldn't you, I was threatening to snap your neck. Sorry?"
Padma shifted her bookbag, adjusting the leather strap digging into her shoulders, a retort furiously forming in her brilliant Ravenclaw head. One of the quirks of romancing a brainy girl: the arguments, and the lengths to which they would press a point to get the final word.
An effective way to steer clear of the hurdle was to shut Padma up. So she did, with a kiss. The mere act of pressing her up against the stone wall of the Charms corridor had Padma submitting almost immediately, her Ravenclaw colors rumpling against Slytherin's. It felt hot to be in charge.
But not to feed the ridiculous soft-core myths boys conjure, as though what she felt and craved were a part of an elaborate orchestration to get them off. Those fantasies rarely culminated in fingering your way under a girl's knickers in the library or in an empty classroom when you think no one's watching.
It took some time to see it - the rules of attraction hardly change.
Only the sex does.
Padma puffed a sigh against her mouth, but her eyes remained open, darting every which way in the empty corridor. "In public?" the Ravenclaw implored.
"I forgot," she answered, pulling away to watch her favorite Patil twin rearrange her robes. "No one knows."
Later that night, she gave in to convention and agreed to meet Padma atop the Astronomy Tower. The lengths she'd go to for a snog.
"I'm new at this, see," Padma whispered, kissing her, dark hands awkwardly groping for bare skin under her robes. "Just bear with me, Millicent."
Fandom: Harry Potter
Genre: Femmelash
Rating: PG-13
Summary: She liked girls.
Notes: Thanks to wheatgerm for being a kick-ass beta.
The Girl in Question
She liked girls.
Loved looking at them, preferred kissing them, spent countless hours in class imagining how Daphne Greengrass looked in and out of her underwear, and orchestrating an ongoing soap opera in her head featuring Marietta Edgecombe, Cho Chang and a jilted Harry Potter.
"Ooh, you've gone blonde," Padma Patil said, sliding her specs off the bridge of her straight nose and planting them on top of her black hair. "I never fancied you as a blonde."
"You never fancied me before at all," she corrected the prefect with a wry curl of her lip. "Ran away from me several times, remember? How couldn't you, I was threatening to snap your neck. Sorry?"
Padma shifted her bookbag, adjusting the leather strap digging into her shoulders, a retort furiously forming in her brilliant Ravenclaw head. One of the quirks of romancing a brainy girl: the arguments, and the lengths to which they would press a point to get the final word.
An effective way to steer clear of the hurdle was to shut Padma up. So she did, with a kiss. The mere act of pressing her up against the stone wall of the Charms corridor had Padma submitting almost immediately, her Ravenclaw colors rumpling against Slytherin's. It felt hot to be in charge.
But not to feed the ridiculous soft-core myths boys conjure, as though what she felt and craved were a part of an elaborate orchestration to get them off. Those fantasies rarely culminated in fingering your way under a girl's knickers in the library or in an empty classroom when you think no one's watching.
It took some time to see it - the rules of attraction hardly change.
Only the sex does.
Padma puffed a sigh against her mouth, but her eyes remained open, darting every which way in the empty corridor. "In public?" the Ravenclaw implored.
"I forgot," she answered, pulling away to watch her favorite Patil twin rearrange her robes. "No one knows."
Later that night, she gave in to convention and agreed to meet Padma atop the Astronomy Tower. The lengths she'd go to for a snog.
"I'm new at this, see," Padma whispered, kissing her, dark hands awkwardly groping for bare skin under her robes. "Just bear with me, Millicent."