(no subject)
Two little fun drabbles for you!
Title: Love By the Lake
Universe: Harry Potter
Type: Slash
Genre: Surreal
Pairings: Harry/Cedric
Characters: Harry, Cedric, Cho
Rating: PG for snogging and being surreal
Summary: There’s no way that Cho is Harry’s first.
Spoilers: PS/SS, PoA, GoF
Word Count: 1,038
Disclaimer: JK Rowling made up the Potterverse; I just write the fanfic. No money is being made in this venture and I have nothing to sue for.
Beta: Chelsea/unrulygarden
Before they snog under the mistletoe, Harry tells Cho that she’s his first.
The way he moves his tongue against hers says differently.
For all purposes, he could be bringing oral pleasure to her nether regions, delicately dancing, stroking her tongue the same way he strokes her hair, eliciting the same, sweetest response she both loves and fears, like a sugar rush straight to the brain. It might say something about her, couldn’t it? That she loves snogging The Boy Who Lived, that he’s entirely more sexual than she could have ever dreamt? If the stories are true, he should be in Slytherin, not Gryffindor. The lion is forceful, a rapist in a noble disguise. But the snake is a charmer, an expert at being self-serving through masterful control of others’ little pleasures and unimportant sins. The lion with a snake’s tongue…this is who has waited two years for this moment while the eagle played it cold.
But something doesn’t feel right. This feels both new and so familiar, avant-garde but still the same, alive but reeking with the stench of death.
*~*
The water in the black lake is always ink-dark and uninviting, and now it has added “terrifying” to its list of adjectives in Harry’s mind. Even the Durmstrang ship, sitting in the middle of the exhausted tumult can’t break the monotonous drone of foreboding that the Second Task bestowed upon the lake. Harry has taken to staring at the waters at great length, in a vain attempt to plumb their depths. Part of him even wants to go back to them, back down to the Merfolk. If gillyweed could last more than an hour, he just might return there and get away from all this Triwizard insanity.
Ron and Hermione and Sirius are always sympathetic to him and his mad urges - if they weren’t, the Philosopher’s Stone wouldn’t have been saved in their first year, and Sirius would still be wherever he’d been before, instead of in a cave. “Fulfilling my duty as godfather.” It was nice to have him back and all, but it had been warm where he’d run off to, and now, even as February was drawing to a close, it was still cold up at Hogwarts. Still, Harry could never tell anyone about the longing to go back into the water, to sprout gills once more and just leave. Naturally, Ron and Hermione have noticed that he’s been spending loads of time at the lake, but, if they think he’s losing his grip, they haven’t said a thing.
If only everything could stay that way…but it can’t. Life goes on, green leaves turn to gold to red and fall, gray rain clouds have to surrender to a clear blue sky and children must become adults. “Nothing gold can stay.” The only thing he remembers from Muggle School with no practical application whatsoever.
Suddenly, he feels a hand on his shoulder. It is bigger and stronger than his own. It feels like hard work and hard love simultaneously, and it sends shivers down his spine that even his long-standing crush on Cho Chang can’t bring him. Leaning backwards, Harry falls into the lap and open arms of Cedric Diggory. Cedric smiles down at him, and, with that same strong delicacy, smoothes out Harry’s unruly black hair. They let their eyes meet, gray and calm on green and tortured, skilled and knowing on terribly ignorant. Were there dust to kick up, their eyes could do it alone - beautiful contradictions of each other that just work so well. And when the dust settles, they’ll be left with just each other: two Hogwarts champions, one brave and one hard-working, one Lion and one Badger, one older, more skilled, and easily more handsome and one gawky fourteen-year-old who everyone seems to want dead. To the outside world, they have nothing in common other than championship, which isn’t much to begin with.
But these are just their masks. They can’t be that way when they’re alone. It just wouldn’t work.
Cedric’s arms are much stronger than Harry’s, more protective and the way a boyfriend’s arms should be. Like the other three Hogwarts Seekers - Harry, Malfoy, and Cho - he has a light build, clearly designed for speed and accuracy, but his hard work and constant helpfulness have paid off. The snow has just started to melt, leaving a nice patch of damp green by the lake. With a warm sigh, Cedric pulls Harry down into it, placing one of those knightly arms around the younger boy’s shoulders. Involuntarily, Harry’s lips quiver as the wind blows through the bud-less branches above them. How he so wants Cedric to press his lips against his own…underneath the blue sky with no one else around to see. With no one there to judge them, they could be, breathe each other in and let each other savor their tastes.
They haven’t for weeks, on one Saturday night, right after the Second Task. In the midst of all the recklessness and chaos that the other students brought to their lives, they found solace under the bubbles of the Prefects’ bathroom with each other. But, for all his midnight wanderings, Harry knows that they could never meet that way; Cedric will never break rules so recklessly, even for his boy, even with his boy’s Invisibility Cloak. He just doesn’t do things like that. He’s a smart boy, a good boy…an unfailingly good boy, even, which is something Harry can never hope to be. The one who has to fight Voldemort every year, yes, he can be that, but he could never be as rule-abiding as Cedric. That’s something Cedric clearly has on him, in addition to brains and good looks and talent.
And, apparently, boyfriend senses. Right as Harry begins to feel this, Cedric slips one of his strong fingers under the fourteen-year-old chin and lifts it up. With unspeakable delicacy and the kind of care he would show a china doll, Cedric presses his lips to Harry’s. Their kiss is torrid, and falls away quickly, before Harry can get what he really wants. Cedric sees this and runs a hand down Harry’s cheek, making the smaller boy shudder.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” he whispers warmly.
Title: A Little Muggle Music
Universe: Harry Potter
Type: Slash
Genre: Fluff
Pairings: Sirius/Remus
Characters: Sirius, Remus, Frank and Alice, Lily and James, Mad-Eye
Rating: PG for Sirius getting drunk and being silly
Summary: Sirius likes to sing Muggle music while he’s drunk.
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 519
Disclaimer: JK Rowling made up the Potterverse; I just write the fanfic. No money is being made in this venture and I have nothing to sue for.
Beta: Chelsea/unrulygarden
Misc. Notes: "I Walk the Line" is by Johnny Cash; "You're the Top" is by Cole Porter.
“‘I keep a close watch on this heart of mine,’” Sirius whispered warmly into Remus’ ear.
“Sirius, you’re drunk,” Remus sighed, stifling a giggle.
“‘I keep my eyes wide open all the time.’”
“Sirius…stop it.”
“‘I keep the ends out for the tie that binds. Because you’re mine, I walk the line.’”
The two of them sat at a table at the James’ parents’ house, enjoying the festivities of Lily and James’ engagement party. As was usual for him, Sirius had been enjoying them a little too much. Granted, he wasn’t terribly drunk, but he was drunk enough to have his inhibitions lowered in interesting ways; today, that happened to mean, singing music by the Muggle musician, Johnny Cash, at Remus. At least this was better than the last time Sirius had gotten drunk. The last time he’d done it, they’d been at Frank and Alice Longbottom’s wedding reception, and he’d proceeded to dance with everyone he could get his hands on - including Minerva McGonagall, Albus Dumbledore, the bride herself, Lily, Peter, and a very discontented Alastor Moody - before taking Remus into a tango and kissing him passionately in the middle of the dance floor.
Thankfully, most of the people at the reception knew about their relationship already, so almost no one was surprised. Lily had sighed and James apologized profusely to Frank and Alice; Frank didn’t really seem to mind, and Alice thought it was adorable, even if Sirius was engaging in excess. The only one who really seemed to mind was Moody, and, at that, only because he attributed the obvious intoxication to Sirius being under the Imperius Curse. At his insistence, Frank sat Sirius down and looked him over, quickly deciding that he was, in fact, just drunk.
“‘I find it very, very easy to be true,’” Sirius went on, emboldened by Remus’ awkwardness. “‘I find myself alone when each day’s through.’”
“You’ll find yourself on the sofa tonight if you keep this up,” Remus scoffed.
“But…but…nyer,” Sirius whined, throwing his arms around Remus’ shoulders.
“Your capacity for logic is astounding.”
“‘Yes, I’ll admit that I’m a fool for you.’”
“In all fairness, Sirius, you’re kind of a fool in general.”
“A very sexy fool, who’s very in love with a certain werewolf…that being you of course.”
“I really couldn’t guess.”
“‘Because you’re mine, I walk the line.’”
Remus sighed and chuckled as Sirius lowered his dark-haired head onto his shoulder. Yes, he was drunk, but…it was kind of cute, in an endearingly reckless and adorably alcoholic way - especially when he began rubbing Remus’ shoulder with his head. He could’ve just turned into Padfoot right now with the way he was acting.
“Well, you know what I think?” Remus asked, keeping a chuckle down.
“Whazzat?” Sirius muttered.
“‘You’re the Nile,’” Remus sang softly.
“Remus…no…”
“‘You’re the Tower of Pisa.’”
“Not this one, come on.”
“‘You’re the smile on the Mona Lisa.’”
“Reeeemuuuuus…”
“If you can do it, then I can too.”
Sirius paused to consider this. As usual, Remus was right, and he wasn’t a terrible singer.
“Fine,” Sirius huffed. “But sing something happy, damn it.”
Title: Love By the Lake
Universe: Harry Potter
Type: Slash
Genre: Surreal
Pairings: Harry/Cedric
Characters: Harry, Cedric, Cho
Rating: PG for snogging and being surreal
Summary: There’s no way that Cho is Harry’s first.
Spoilers: PS/SS, PoA, GoF
Word Count: 1,038
Disclaimer: JK Rowling made up the Potterverse; I just write the fanfic. No money is being made in this venture and I have nothing to sue for.
Beta: Chelsea/unrulygarden
Before they snog under the mistletoe, Harry tells Cho that she’s his first.
The way he moves his tongue against hers says differently.
For all purposes, he could be bringing oral pleasure to her nether regions, delicately dancing, stroking her tongue the same way he strokes her hair, eliciting the same, sweetest response she both loves and fears, like a sugar rush straight to the brain. It might say something about her, couldn’t it? That she loves snogging The Boy Who Lived, that he’s entirely more sexual than she could have ever dreamt? If the stories are true, he should be in Slytherin, not Gryffindor. The lion is forceful, a rapist in a noble disguise. But the snake is a charmer, an expert at being self-serving through masterful control of others’ little pleasures and unimportant sins. The lion with a snake’s tongue…this is who has waited two years for this moment while the eagle played it cold.
But something doesn’t feel right. This feels both new and so familiar, avant-garde but still the same, alive but reeking with the stench of death.
*~*
The water in the black lake is always ink-dark and uninviting, and now it has added “terrifying” to its list of adjectives in Harry’s mind. Even the Durmstrang ship, sitting in the middle of the exhausted tumult can’t break the monotonous drone of foreboding that the Second Task bestowed upon the lake. Harry has taken to staring at the waters at great length, in a vain attempt to plumb their depths. Part of him even wants to go back to them, back down to the Merfolk. If gillyweed could last more than an hour, he just might return there and get away from all this Triwizard insanity.
Ron and Hermione and Sirius are always sympathetic to him and his mad urges - if they weren’t, the Philosopher’s Stone wouldn’t have been saved in their first year, and Sirius would still be wherever he’d been before, instead of in a cave. “Fulfilling my duty as godfather.” It was nice to have him back and all, but it had been warm where he’d run off to, and now, even as February was drawing to a close, it was still cold up at Hogwarts. Still, Harry could never tell anyone about the longing to go back into the water, to sprout gills once more and just leave. Naturally, Ron and Hermione have noticed that he’s been spending loads of time at the lake, but, if they think he’s losing his grip, they haven’t said a thing.
If only everything could stay that way…but it can’t. Life goes on, green leaves turn to gold to red and fall, gray rain clouds have to surrender to a clear blue sky and children must become adults. “Nothing gold can stay.” The only thing he remembers from Muggle School with no practical application whatsoever.
Suddenly, he feels a hand on his shoulder. It is bigger and stronger than his own. It feels like hard work and hard love simultaneously, and it sends shivers down his spine that even his long-standing crush on Cho Chang can’t bring him. Leaning backwards, Harry falls into the lap and open arms of Cedric Diggory. Cedric smiles down at him, and, with that same strong delicacy, smoothes out Harry’s unruly black hair. They let their eyes meet, gray and calm on green and tortured, skilled and knowing on terribly ignorant. Were there dust to kick up, their eyes could do it alone - beautiful contradictions of each other that just work so well. And when the dust settles, they’ll be left with just each other: two Hogwarts champions, one brave and one hard-working, one Lion and one Badger, one older, more skilled, and easily more handsome and one gawky fourteen-year-old who everyone seems to want dead. To the outside world, they have nothing in common other than championship, which isn’t much to begin with.
But these are just their masks. They can’t be that way when they’re alone. It just wouldn’t work.
Cedric’s arms are much stronger than Harry’s, more protective and the way a boyfriend’s arms should be. Like the other three Hogwarts Seekers - Harry, Malfoy, and Cho - he has a light build, clearly designed for speed and accuracy, but his hard work and constant helpfulness have paid off. The snow has just started to melt, leaving a nice patch of damp green by the lake. With a warm sigh, Cedric pulls Harry down into it, placing one of those knightly arms around the younger boy’s shoulders. Involuntarily, Harry’s lips quiver as the wind blows through the bud-less branches above them. How he so wants Cedric to press his lips against his own…underneath the blue sky with no one else around to see. With no one there to judge them, they could be, breathe each other in and let each other savor their tastes.
They haven’t for weeks, on one Saturday night, right after the Second Task. In the midst of all the recklessness and chaos that the other students brought to their lives, they found solace under the bubbles of the Prefects’ bathroom with each other. But, for all his midnight wanderings, Harry knows that they could never meet that way; Cedric will never break rules so recklessly, even for his boy, even with his boy’s Invisibility Cloak. He just doesn’t do things like that. He’s a smart boy, a good boy…an unfailingly good boy, even, which is something Harry can never hope to be. The one who has to fight Voldemort every year, yes, he can be that, but he could never be as rule-abiding as Cedric. That’s something Cedric clearly has on him, in addition to brains and good looks and talent.
And, apparently, boyfriend senses. Right as Harry begins to feel this, Cedric slips one of his strong fingers under the fourteen-year-old chin and lifts it up. With unspeakable delicacy and the kind of care he would show a china doll, Cedric presses his lips to Harry’s. Their kiss is torrid, and falls away quickly, before Harry can get what he really wants. Cedric sees this and runs a hand down Harry’s cheek, making the smaller boy shudder.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” he whispers warmly.
Title: A Little Muggle Music
Universe: Harry Potter
Type: Slash
Genre: Fluff
Pairings: Sirius/Remus
Characters: Sirius, Remus, Frank and Alice, Lily and James, Mad-Eye
Rating: PG for Sirius getting drunk and being silly
Summary: Sirius likes to sing Muggle music while he’s drunk.
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 519
Disclaimer: JK Rowling made up the Potterverse; I just write the fanfic. No money is being made in this venture and I have nothing to sue for.
Beta: Chelsea/unrulygarden
Misc. Notes: "I Walk the Line" is by Johnny Cash; "You're the Top" is by Cole Porter.
“‘I keep a close watch on this heart of mine,’” Sirius whispered warmly into Remus’ ear.
“Sirius, you’re drunk,” Remus sighed, stifling a giggle.
“‘I keep my eyes wide open all the time.’”
“Sirius…stop it.”
“‘I keep the ends out for the tie that binds. Because you’re mine, I walk the line.’”
The two of them sat at a table at the James’ parents’ house, enjoying the festivities of Lily and James’ engagement party. As was usual for him, Sirius had been enjoying them a little too much. Granted, he wasn’t terribly drunk, but he was drunk enough to have his inhibitions lowered in interesting ways; today, that happened to mean, singing music by the Muggle musician, Johnny Cash, at Remus. At least this was better than the last time Sirius had gotten drunk. The last time he’d done it, they’d been at Frank and Alice Longbottom’s wedding reception, and he’d proceeded to dance with everyone he could get his hands on - including Minerva McGonagall, Albus Dumbledore, the bride herself, Lily, Peter, and a very discontented Alastor Moody - before taking Remus into a tango and kissing him passionately in the middle of the dance floor.
Thankfully, most of the people at the reception knew about their relationship already, so almost no one was surprised. Lily had sighed and James apologized profusely to Frank and Alice; Frank didn’t really seem to mind, and Alice thought it was adorable, even if Sirius was engaging in excess. The only one who really seemed to mind was Moody, and, at that, only because he attributed the obvious intoxication to Sirius being under the Imperius Curse. At his insistence, Frank sat Sirius down and looked him over, quickly deciding that he was, in fact, just drunk.
“‘I find it very, very easy to be true,’” Sirius went on, emboldened by Remus’ awkwardness. “‘I find myself alone when each day’s through.’”
“You’ll find yourself on the sofa tonight if you keep this up,” Remus scoffed.
“But…but…nyer,” Sirius whined, throwing his arms around Remus’ shoulders.
“Your capacity for logic is astounding.”
“‘Yes, I’ll admit that I’m a fool for you.’”
“In all fairness, Sirius, you’re kind of a fool in general.”
“A very sexy fool, who’s very in love with a certain werewolf…that being you of course.”
“I really couldn’t guess.”
“‘Because you’re mine, I walk the line.’”
Remus sighed and chuckled as Sirius lowered his dark-haired head onto his shoulder. Yes, he was drunk, but…it was kind of cute, in an endearingly reckless and adorably alcoholic way - especially when he began rubbing Remus’ shoulder with his head. He could’ve just turned into Padfoot right now with the way he was acting.
“Well, you know what I think?” Remus asked, keeping a chuckle down.
“Whazzat?” Sirius muttered.
“‘You’re the Nile,’” Remus sang softly.
“Remus…no…”
“‘You’re the Tower of Pisa.’”
“Not this one, come on.”
“‘You’re the smile on the Mona Lisa.’”
“Reeeemuuuuus…”
“If you can do it, then I can too.”
Sirius paused to consider this. As usual, Remus was right, and he wasn’t a terrible singer.
“Fine,” Sirius huffed. “But sing something happy, damn it.”