The Only Adventure
Title: The Only Adventure
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Pansy/Luna
Prompt: 7spells - the only adventure
Word Count: 1,922
Rating: PG
Summary: Never before has Pansy had an adventure, and she’s never expected that she will.
Author's Notes: Weird sort of thing again. I have Writer's Block, sort of. I want to write some Pirates things, but both Sparrabeth and Norribeth are giving me headaches at the present. Beware run-on sentences and hasty endings.
The Only Adventure
Never before has Pansy had an adventure, and she’s never expected that she will. She knows that Luna has had plenty, being so close to Harry Potter these past two years or so; she’s now nearly part of the Golden-what is it called when there’s a group of six? Pansy knows all about the Department of Mysteries and the Hall of Prophecy and things like that, because Luna recounts her experience with eyes that are almost wider than usual; she talks so quickly and with so much excitement that in the end, both she and Pansy are left breathless.
Even though there aren’t any stories left to tell now, Luna’s disposition as of late suggests otherwise. It’s as if there’s one last adventure, the greatest of them all, that she’s saving until the opportune moment arrives. Amusing though it may be to watch Luna babble on like she’s distracted, (what she’s saying lately hasn’t come out quite right; it’s all a rush of emotion), Pansy can’t help but wonder at it.
So she corners her one day and asks her about it-demands an answer, and won’t let go until she receives some sort of response. To her utmost surprise, Luna beams and seems to glow with tremors of excitement.
“Today,” she says in a whisper, “we’re going on the Only Adventure.” Her voice is so quiet that it feels like Pansy’s the only one that’s supposed to hear what Luna says. (And Pansy knows that she is, even if this fact contradicts the simplicity of her statement.)
“The Only Adventure?” Pansy repeats in her normal tone. Luna hushes her and nods.
“That’s what I’ve decided to name it.”
“But why?”
“It will be your only adventure.”
“Ever?” Pansy questions, though she’s only teasing.
“I hope not.” Of course, Luna answers as though she had been serious.
“So where are we going?” Pansy wants to know.
But Luna doesn’t tell her. She takes Pansy’s hand in her own and she leads her through the castle with more force and strength than Pansy has ever thought her capable of possessing. She ignores the looks of their peers as they fly through the corridors, though Pansy is somehow conscious of every one. And every one of these looks questions just what a Slytherin and a Ravenclaw (Parkinson and Lovegood, of all people) are doing together. Why they’re holding hands. (Don’t Slytherins always keep to themselves?) If Luna noticed them, Pansy wonders, would she come to a stop before each one and repeat, in the same hushed tone as before, that this is the Only Adventure? (Suddenly, Pansy is glad that there are some things that Luna doesn’t notice.)
When Pansy thinks her heart or her lungs (or something) are about to burst, Luna’s gait slows until she finally halts. The Slytherin is curious and hopeful, because after all, adventures are new to her, but all she sees is a great spans of walls before her. They are standing in a corridor that looks just like all the others they’ve passed as they journeyed to this one. Which is disappointing. She doesn’t let it show entirely, though, because she doesn’t like discouraging Luna. (Luna is the only one who has this sort of privilege.)
But after a moment, her spirits are restored, as Luna begins to walk once more, pacing at that one spot and looking like she’s concentrating upon something that Pansy can’t even attempt to fathom.
She doesn’t pay close attention to the count, but she believes, when Luna abruptly stops, that she’s paced three times. And by doing so, somehow she’s made a door handle appear out of nowhere. (Hogwarts has far too many secrets for its own good.)
“Are you ready?” Luna asks her, and rests her hand upon the handle. Pansy is almost shocked to see that it doesn’t simply pass straight through.
“For what?” she asks, though she already knows the answer.
“The Only Adventure.”
Luna waits patiently until Pansy confirms that she is, in fact, ready. Then she slowly turns the handle, almost languid on purpose-but that’s the sort of torture only Slytherins can conceive.
Pansy almost expects there to be nothing on the other side of this doorway that has appeared from the air, but she trusts Luna. She doesn’t know why, and she knows that she shouldn’t, but she does anyway; it’s part of her adventure to go against these sorts of rules.
Instead of nothing, though, there’s definitely something. Pansy doesn’t even try to mask her surprise.
At first all she sees is green and blue, because the colors are so bright that they blind her for a moment. But as her eyes adjust and widen, and her mouth hangs more and more agape, she sees that the green is grass. There’s grass stretching toward her through the doorway like beckoning fingers; it runs in all directions as far as she can see, sloping up the sides of hills whose tops greet the startlingly blue sky.
Without thinking, she steps inside-inside the room? It can’t be a room. There are no walls and no ceilings or floors; there is no confinement of any kind. It’s open and endless and-she inhales-it smells of freedom. She can feel the grass beneath her feet, even though she can’t remember ever removing her shoes. It’s soft grass, very much unlike the fields beside the park to which she used to sneak as a child.
“Where are we?” she breathes in an infuriatingly spellbound way.
Luna skips ahead, only three paces or so, and kicks off her shoes. “I’ve never been here before,” she says calmly once she has finished. “So it’s an adventure for both of us.”
“Thanks,” Pansy replies, feeling awkward. “But-”
But what? Luna has disappeared. Pansy falters, unsure.
“Boo!” Luna suddenly whispers loudly into her ear, and she jumps, her breath catching in a gasp. She wants to tell Luna that it’s not funny, and why did she bring her here if she only means to scare her to death, but Luna starts talking again. Pansy hates the fact that she can’t help but listen.
“We’re going to swim. I hope you don’t mind swimming. The lake is very nice.”
“What lake?” Pansy wonders.
“Oh, it’s just behind the tallest hill. Look.”
Pansy looks, but all she sees are hills that look the same. “I don’t see it.”
“You will,” Luna promises. She slides her pale fingers around Pansy’s hand and pulls her forward. Again.
Not for long, though, because Pansy jerks back roughly and makes Luna whimper. She doesn’t meant to hurt her; they’re both stronger than they realize, she supposes.
“You said that you’d never been here before,” Pansy accuses. “How can you know where you’re going?”
Luna blinks at her. “I don’t.”
Startled, Pansy lets go, and Luna smiles as if she’s forgotten that Pansy just nearly pulled her arm off. She decides not to ask for any more explanations; she knows that what she’ll get as a response won’t make any sense at all.
Luna takes her hand again, and Pansy allows herself to be led. They walk for a time as a silence settles upon them, neither comfortable nor uncomfortable, until they near a hill whose sides are almost perpendicular to the ground. If they so desire, they can lean against it without having too far to fall. Pansy is tempted, but Luna doesn’t stop.
Instead, she pulls Pansy along as they follow the curved line of the hill. Until they’re staring at a lake.
Happily, the Ravenclaw skips-with the Slytherin in tow-to the water’s edge. She peers at it for a moment, inspecting the reflection they’re casting upon its surface. Then she laughs and takes another four bounds so that they’re both immersed.
Pansy sputters. (Where has her say in matters gone? she wonders.) There’s water in her mouth, and she spits it out; there’s nothing but the liquid beneath her feet, for the lake bottom is far below. Not so far that she can’t see it, though, because the lake is so clear that it’s like they’re swimming in the sky.
While Pansy flounders, Luna floats like a water nymph with her hair spread in a wide circle all around her. Her robes bubble as air is trapped beneath the fabric, but they don’t weight her down.
“How are you doing that?” Pansy grumbles, expelling more water from her mouth.
“Maybe your clothes are too heavy.”
It’s annoying how Luna never answers her questions directly.
Pansy wrinkles her nose. She doesn’t want to remove her clothing, but she doesn’t want to drown either.
With a contemptuous glare-the Only Adventure, indeed!-she ducks beneath the surface and wriggles out of her robes. She pauses for a beat or so, her legs curled slightly toward her chest, and she hangs there, suspended in water that’s like air. It’s fascinating to watch her school uniform float in a dark body above her, like someone’s been drowned. But no one’s really there…
She loses herself in her thoughts and almost forgets to breathe. Almost, because she looks up and sees Luna’s legs kicking and she remembers that she isn’t a great swimmer. Pansy isn’t, that is. She muses that Luna was probably born with gills.
Chuckling-she almost inhales and chokes-she paddles with her hands until she breaks above the water and takes a shuddery sort of breath. She hears Luna say something to her, but this time, she decides not to listen. Instead, she grasps Luna’s shoulders and, with all her might, pushes her down into the water.
It would be funny to leave her there, she knows, and to wait until she comes bobbing up so that they can laugh together, but she decides to follow her. Even if Luna does have gills, she could still drown. (Maybe.)
But in the depths, Luna’s not drowning at all. She’s somersaulting and gliding and she looks like a nymph again. From time to time, she stands upright-walking on nothing-and her hair pools above her like white fire.
Dizzy from lack of air and something else, she claws her way to air again. Luna’s close behind.
“You look…” Pansy says, panting.
Luna tilts her head to one side and a narrow rivulet of liquid trickles from her ear.
Pansy flushes. “You look pretty when you swim,” she mutters, feeling stupid. (Because that’s what she’s being right now: stupid. She never compliments anyone.)
She feels too warm and submerges herself once more.
When she comes up again, Luna isn’t wearing her robes. Pansy looks at her oddly, giving her the what-the-hell-are-you-doing stare that she’s been practicing on the Gryffindors since she was eleven. She doesn’t let her eyes travel below Luna’s shoulders.
“What are you doing?” she demands.
“It’s so you don’t have to feel alone.”
Pansy remembers that she’s not wearing anything, either. (She’s being stupid again.)
“Oh.”
-oOo-
The next time, they go beneath the water together, and Pansy feels comfortable now that they’re equal. (No one has the upper hand, which is better than her not having it.)
It’s funny, though, imagining what they both must look like, and Pansy wants to laugh.
But she doesn’t.
Instead, she beckons Luna to her with a single, conspiring finger, and when she’s close enough, Pansy pulls her into a kiss. Just in case they forget to breathe. This is an adventure, after all.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Pansy/Luna
Prompt: 7spells - the only adventure
Word Count: 1,922
Rating: PG
Summary: Never before has Pansy had an adventure, and she’s never expected that she will.
Author's Notes: Weird sort of thing again. I have Writer's Block, sort of. I want to write some Pirates things, but both Sparrabeth and Norribeth are giving me headaches at the present. Beware run-on sentences and hasty endings.
The Only Adventure
Never before has Pansy had an adventure, and she’s never expected that she will. She knows that Luna has had plenty, being so close to Harry Potter these past two years or so; she’s now nearly part of the Golden-what is it called when there’s a group of six? Pansy knows all about the Department of Mysteries and the Hall of Prophecy and things like that, because Luna recounts her experience with eyes that are almost wider than usual; she talks so quickly and with so much excitement that in the end, both she and Pansy are left breathless.
Even though there aren’t any stories left to tell now, Luna’s disposition as of late suggests otherwise. It’s as if there’s one last adventure, the greatest of them all, that she’s saving until the opportune moment arrives. Amusing though it may be to watch Luna babble on like she’s distracted, (what she’s saying lately hasn’t come out quite right; it’s all a rush of emotion), Pansy can’t help but wonder at it.
So she corners her one day and asks her about it-demands an answer, and won’t let go until she receives some sort of response. To her utmost surprise, Luna beams and seems to glow with tremors of excitement.
“Today,” she says in a whisper, “we’re going on the Only Adventure.” Her voice is so quiet that it feels like Pansy’s the only one that’s supposed to hear what Luna says. (And Pansy knows that she is, even if this fact contradicts the simplicity of her statement.)
“The Only Adventure?” Pansy repeats in her normal tone. Luna hushes her and nods.
“That’s what I’ve decided to name it.”
“But why?”
“It will be your only adventure.”
“Ever?” Pansy questions, though she’s only teasing.
“I hope not.” Of course, Luna answers as though she had been serious.
“So where are we going?” Pansy wants to know.
But Luna doesn’t tell her. She takes Pansy’s hand in her own and she leads her through the castle with more force and strength than Pansy has ever thought her capable of possessing. She ignores the looks of their peers as they fly through the corridors, though Pansy is somehow conscious of every one. And every one of these looks questions just what a Slytherin and a Ravenclaw (Parkinson and Lovegood, of all people) are doing together. Why they’re holding hands. (Don’t Slytherins always keep to themselves?) If Luna noticed them, Pansy wonders, would she come to a stop before each one and repeat, in the same hushed tone as before, that this is the Only Adventure? (Suddenly, Pansy is glad that there are some things that Luna doesn’t notice.)
When Pansy thinks her heart or her lungs (or something) are about to burst, Luna’s gait slows until she finally halts. The Slytherin is curious and hopeful, because after all, adventures are new to her, but all she sees is a great spans of walls before her. They are standing in a corridor that looks just like all the others they’ve passed as they journeyed to this one. Which is disappointing. She doesn’t let it show entirely, though, because she doesn’t like discouraging Luna. (Luna is the only one who has this sort of privilege.)
But after a moment, her spirits are restored, as Luna begins to walk once more, pacing at that one spot and looking like she’s concentrating upon something that Pansy can’t even attempt to fathom.
She doesn’t pay close attention to the count, but she believes, when Luna abruptly stops, that she’s paced three times. And by doing so, somehow she’s made a door handle appear out of nowhere. (Hogwarts has far too many secrets for its own good.)
“Are you ready?” Luna asks her, and rests her hand upon the handle. Pansy is almost shocked to see that it doesn’t simply pass straight through.
“For what?” she asks, though she already knows the answer.
“The Only Adventure.”
Luna waits patiently until Pansy confirms that she is, in fact, ready. Then she slowly turns the handle, almost languid on purpose-but that’s the sort of torture only Slytherins can conceive.
Pansy almost expects there to be nothing on the other side of this doorway that has appeared from the air, but she trusts Luna. She doesn’t know why, and she knows that she shouldn’t, but she does anyway; it’s part of her adventure to go against these sorts of rules.
Instead of nothing, though, there’s definitely something. Pansy doesn’t even try to mask her surprise.
At first all she sees is green and blue, because the colors are so bright that they blind her for a moment. But as her eyes adjust and widen, and her mouth hangs more and more agape, she sees that the green is grass. There’s grass stretching toward her through the doorway like beckoning fingers; it runs in all directions as far as she can see, sloping up the sides of hills whose tops greet the startlingly blue sky.
Without thinking, she steps inside-inside the room? It can’t be a room. There are no walls and no ceilings or floors; there is no confinement of any kind. It’s open and endless and-she inhales-it smells of freedom. She can feel the grass beneath her feet, even though she can’t remember ever removing her shoes. It’s soft grass, very much unlike the fields beside the park to which she used to sneak as a child.
“Where are we?” she breathes in an infuriatingly spellbound way.
Luna skips ahead, only three paces or so, and kicks off her shoes. “I’ve never been here before,” she says calmly once she has finished. “So it’s an adventure for both of us.”
“Thanks,” Pansy replies, feeling awkward. “But-”
But what? Luna has disappeared. Pansy falters, unsure.
“Boo!” Luna suddenly whispers loudly into her ear, and she jumps, her breath catching in a gasp. She wants to tell Luna that it’s not funny, and why did she bring her here if she only means to scare her to death, but Luna starts talking again. Pansy hates the fact that she can’t help but listen.
“We’re going to swim. I hope you don’t mind swimming. The lake is very nice.”
“What lake?” Pansy wonders.
“Oh, it’s just behind the tallest hill. Look.”
Pansy looks, but all she sees are hills that look the same. “I don’t see it.”
“You will,” Luna promises. She slides her pale fingers around Pansy’s hand and pulls her forward. Again.
Not for long, though, because Pansy jerks back roughly and makes Luna whimper. She doesn’t meant to hurt her; they’re both stronger than they realize, she supposes.
“You said that you’d never been here before,” Pansy accuses. “How can you know where you’re going?”
Luna blinks at her. “I don’t.”
Startled, Pansy lets go, and Luna smiles as if she’s forgotten that Pansy just nearly pulled her arm off. She decides not to ask for any more explanations; she knows that what she’ll get as a response won’t make any sense at all.
Luna takes her hand again, and Pansy allows herself to be led. They walk for a time as a silence settles upon them, neither comfortable nor uncomfortable, until they near a hill whose sides are almost perpendicular to the ground. If they so desire, they can lean against it without having too far to fall. Pansy is tempted, but Luna doesn’t stop.
Instead, she pulls Pansy along as they follow the curved line of the hill. Until they’re staring at a lake.
Happily, the Ravenclaw skips-with the Slytherin in tow-to the water’s edge. She peers at it for a moment, inspecting the reflection they’re casting upon its surface. Then she laughs and takes another four bounds so that they’re both immersed.
Pansy sputters. (Where has her say in matters gone? she wonders.) There’s water in her mouth, and she spits it out; there’s nothing but the liquid beneath her feet, for the lake bottom is far below. Not so far that she can’t see it, though, because the lake is so clear that it’s like they’re swimming in the sky.
While Pansy flounders, Luna floats like a water nymph with her hair spread in a wide circle all around her. Her robes bubble as air is trapped beneath the fabric, but they don’t weight her down.
“How are you doing that?” Pansy grumbles, expelling more water from her mouth.
“Maybe your clothes are too heavy.”
It’s annoying how Luna never answers her questions directly.
Pansy wrinkles her nose. She doesn’t want to remove her clothing, but she doesn’t want to drown either.
With a contemptuous glare-the Only Adventure, indeed!-she ducks beneath the surface and wriggles out of her robes. She pauses for a beat or so, her legs curled slightly toward her chest, and she hangs there, suspended in water that’s like air. It’s fascinating to watch her school uniform float in a dark body above her, like someone’s been drowned. But no one’s really there…
She loses herself in her thoughts and almost forgets to breathe. Almost, because she looks up and sees Luna’s legs kicking and she remembers that she isn’t a great swimmer. Pansy isn’t, that is. She muses that Luna was probably born with gills.
Chuckling-she almost inhales and chokes-she paddles with her hands until she breaks above the water and takes a shuddery sort of breath. She hears Luna say something to her, but this time, she decides not to listen. Instead, she grasps Luna’s shoulders and, with all her might, pushes her down into the water.
It would be funny to leave her there, she knows, and to wait until she comes bobbing up so that they can laugh together, but she decides to follow her. Even if Luna does have gills, she could still drown. (Maybe.)
But in the depths, Luna’s not drowning at all. She’s somersaulting and gliding and she looks like a nymph again. From time to time, she stands upright-walking on nothing-and her hair pools above her like white fire.
Dizzy from lack of air and something else, she claws her way to air again. Luna’s close behind.
“You look…” Pansy says, panting.
Luna tilts her head to one side and a narrow rivulet of liquid trickles from her ear.
Pansy flushes. “You look pretty when you swim,” she mutters, feeling stupid. (Because that’s what she’s being right now: stupid. She never compliments anyone.)
She feels too warm and submerges herself once more.
When she comes up again, Luna isn’t wearing her robes. Pansy looks at her oddly, giving her the what-the-hell-are-you-doing stare that she’s been practicing on the Gryffindors since she was eleven. She doesn’t let her eyes travel below Luna’s shoulders.
“What are you doing?” she demands.
“It’s so you don’t have to feel alone.”
Pansy remembers that she’s not wearing anything, either. (She’s being stupid again.)
“Oh.”
-oOo-
The next time, they go beneath the water together, and Pansy feels comfortable now that they’re equal. (No one has the upper hand, which is better than her not having it.)
It’s funny, though, imagining what they both must look like, and Pansy wants to laugh.
But she doesn’t.
Instead, she beckons Luna to her with a single, conspiring finger, and when she’s close enough, Pansy pulls her into a kiss. Just in case they forget to breathe. This is an adventure, after all.