037 A Poor Meeting
Title: A Poor Meeting
Author: cookie_pixie
Rating: G
Character/Pairing: Slug Club
Genre: fic
Warnings: PG-13 for gross smooching
Word Count: 385
Purchases: quill and parchment
12 out of 17 words used. I didn't need that plot anyway.
This was, officially, the worst Slug Club meeting ever.
Hermione glanced around nervously, sharing the same uncomfortable feeling with some of the other members. Harry met her eyes only briefly before looking in the other direction - he too was trying to look at people without eye contact. Ginny's face was as red as her hair and her hands were balled in her lap. Melinda Bobbin looked just as uncomfortable as Hermione, while Blaise Zabini was about two degrees away from showing open mortification, horror, approval or a combination of all three.
Today's special guest was a with whose potions were known to produce rather powerful inamorata when consumed. As a demonstration (urged on by abdominous and dithyrambic Professor Slughorn himself), she xertzed one of her own potions, right then and there.
Definitely a sign of matutolypea, Hermione thought to herself. I should've stayed in bed today. She couldn't help but stare as the woman's chest suddenly expanded two cup sizes, her hair gained volume and her rear end became sphreopygian - it was like, as Muggles said, watching a train wreck in a most bizarre way. Hermione had to admit that such powerful magic was admirable, but couldn't this witch use her magic for more meaningful ends?
What was even worse was the impuissant Cormac McLaggen, who was completely pixilated by the woman's new vizard. He had literally pounced on the witch, who cooed adoration for her new admirer.
That had happened, by Hermione's count, ten minutes ago, and she had refused to look directly at the smacking and sucking pair until now. Stealing a quick keek, Hermione's face reddened as she saw Cormac fyerk a rather intimate part of the witch and quickly looked away.
Why wasn't anyone else affected by this, she wondered. Well, she, Ginny and Melinda were all girls, so that was out. Harry had always had that strange immunity to magic. She didn't know much about Zabini's past, but given his (in)famous mother, she wouldn't be surprised if he was immune to such magical charms as well. Hermione wouldn't put it past Slughorn to have consumed an antidote beforehand.
Speaking of Slughorn, Hermione turned to look at him. His face was just as red as everybody else's, saved for Cormac's and the witch's.
Perhaps this time he had invited the wrong former member to his gathering.
Author: cookie_pixie
Rating: G
Character/Pairing: Slug Club
Genre: fic
Warnings: PG-13 for gross smooching
Word Count: 385
Purchases: quill and parchment
12 out of 17 words used. I didn't need that plot anyway.
This was, officially, the worst Slug Club meeting ever.
Hermione glanced around nervously, sharing the same uncomfortable feeling with some of the other members. Harry met her eyes only briefly before looking in the other direction - he too was trying to look at people without eye contact. Ginny's face was as red as her hair and her hands were balled in her lap. Melinda Bobbin looked just as uncomfortable as Hermione, while Blaise Zabini was about two degrees away from showing open mortification, horror, approval or a combination of all three.
Today's special guest was a with whose potions were known to produce rather powerful inamorata when consumed. As a demonstration (urged on by abdominous and dithyrambic Professor Slughorn himself), she xertzed one of her own potions, right then and there.
Definitely a sign of matutolypea, Hermione thought to herself. I should've stayed in bed today. She couldn't help but stare as the woman's chest suddenly expanded two cup sizes, her hair gained volume and her rear end became sphreopygian - it was like, as Muggles said, watching a train wreck in a most bizarre way. Hermione had to admit that such powerful magic was admirable, but couldn't this witch use her magic for more meaningful ends?
What was even worse was the impuissant Cormac McLaggen, who was completely pixilated by the woman's new vizard. He had literally pounced on the witch, who cooed adoration for her new admirer.
That had happened, by Hermione's count, ten minutes ago, and she had refused to look directly at the smacking and sucking pair until now. Stealing a quick keek, Hermione's face reddened as she saw Cormac fyerk a rather intimate part of the witch and quickly looked away.
Why wasn't anyone else affected by this, she wondered. Well, she, Ginny and Melinda were all girls, so that was out. Harry had always had that strange immunity to magic. She didn't know much about Zabini's past, but given his (in)famous mother, she wouldn't be surprised if he was immune to such magical charms as well. Hermione wouldn't put it past Slughorn to have consumed an antidote beforehand.
Speaking of Slughorn, Hermione turned to look at him. His face was just as red as everybody else's, saved for Cormac's and the witch's.
Perhaps this time he had invited the wrong former member to his gathering.