Nice place to visit
Well, I had a fairly lazy day. I spent the day playing on my newly fixed laptop and paying a visit to lesbian-land. In other words, I spent the afternoon watching the 1st season of The L Word, But I'm a Cheerleader, Better Than Chocolate, If Walls Could Talk 2, Lost and Delirious and Aimee and Jaguar back-to-back. This led me to write a femmeslash fanfiction, and said story now makes me want a pack of cloves. Damn ickle amish town with no where to get them.
I've also got my diet pills, which have made me happy, though I need to keep said pills from my grandmother, which wonb't be easy. But I've done it before, and I'll manage it again. That's basically it, and so I give you:
It All Started with a Detention
Disclaimer 1: I don’t own any of JKR’s characters.
Disclaimer 2: This is femmeslash, specifically Ginny/Pansy. Don’t like, Don’t read.
Ginny Weasley was not feeling particularly charitable toward her Head of House. She and McGonagall usually got on fairly well, but then again McGonagall usually didn’t catch her smoking clove cigarettes in the Forbidden Forest, either. Still, Ginny thought that sentencing her to a detention of cleaning her birdcages of feathers and bird droppings should be considered a tad excessive, as well as cruel and unusual, mainly due to the smell that made the Potions room smell like roses.
Ginny didn’t even know why McGonagall kept birds. A witch whose animagi form was feline keeping birds who disappeared and changed as often as these did looked a bit dodgy to her, but what did she know? She glanced up at her detention partner, Pansy Parkinson, who seemed to be having an even worse time with her cage than she was, that made her happy, at least she wasn’t the only one suffering.
Pansy snarled in annoyance at the cage and the palette knife she was using to clean the sodding thing. This was why the castle had house elves, wasn’t it? She glanced sideways at the Gryffindor girl next to her, and deciding that associating with a Gryff was a lesser sentence then the silence of the room, she asked quietly, so ye-old-cat-lady of Gryffindor couldn’t overhear: “What’d you do to get detention, Weasley? I thought you were the good-girl of Gryffindor.”
“I got caught.” Ginny said, keeping her voice low as well.
“Well, obviously.” Pansy drawled, “but doing what? Shagging Potter in a broom cupboard?”
“Ew!” Ginny hissed vehemently. “Sweet Circe, no. And have Cho Chang’s sloppy seconds? I bloody think not!” She smirked, “That’s what I have Luna for.”
Pansy was so shocked that she allowed it to get the better of her, and it showed in her eyes, and the fact that her jaw actually dropped. “You’re not who I thought you were, Weasley.”
“Yeah, you and half of Hogwarts.” Ginny said, cursing quietly as the palette knife she was using slipped and cut her finger.
Pansy watched keenly as small beads of blood appeared on her finger. “So what’d you get caught doing then?”
Ginny shrugged, “Smoking cloves in the Forbidden Forest. What about you?”
“What about me?” Pansy asked, her arrogant upbringing coming out in the tilt of he head and the tone of her voice. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”
“Oh, shut off the spoilt pureblood princess lines, you stupid bint. I may not have as much money as you but I’m just as pure-blooded as you.”
Pansy smirked, and ran her finger along Ginny’s collecting a few drops of blood from her cut finger, and then licking it off her own. “Hm…” She said with a wicked little smile. “You’re right.” She sighed, “I got caught drinking Italian firewhiskey in an unused classroom, where Tracey Davis was a little less than fully-dressed.”
“Davis is such a lightweight.” Ginny said disgustedly. “Two shots and she’s pissed, four and she’s under the table and trying to snog you on the way down.”
“Don’t you like it when girls try to snog you?” Pansy asked in dulcet tones.
“Not when their completely drunk.” Ginny said, shaking her head.
Just then, the curfew bell rang, signaling their release from feather-covered hell. Pansy smirked, “D’you want to continue this conversation somewhere less noxious?”
“Bring some of that Italian firewhiskey and I’d be glad too.” Ginny said, slipping her outer-robe over her uniform.
“Bring your fags and it’s a deal.” Pansy murmured.
“No, Parkinson,” Ginny said with a smirk of her own. “It’s a date.”
I've also got my diet pills, which have made me happy, though I need to keep said pills from my grandmother, which wonb't be easy. But I've done it before, and I'll manage it again. That's basically it, and so I give you:
It All Started with a Detention
Disclaimer 1: I don’t own any of JKR’s characters.
Disclaimer 2: This is femmeslash, specifically Ginny/Pansy. Don’t like, Don’t read.
Ginny Weasley was not feeling particularly charitable toward her Head of House. She and McGonagall usually got on fairly well, but then again McGonagall usually didn’t catch her smoking clove cigarettes in the Forbidden Forest, either. Still, Ginny thought that sentencing her to a detention of cleaning her birdcages of feathers and bird droppings should be considered a tad excessive, as well as cruel and unusual, mainly due to the smell that made the Potions room smell like roses.
Ginny didn’t even know why McGonagall kept birds. A witch whose animagi form was feline keeping birds who disappeared and changed as often as these did looked a bit dodgy to her, but what did she know? She glanced up at her detention partner, Pansy Parkinson, who seemed to be having an even worse time with her cage than she was, that made her happy, at least she wasn’t the only one suffering.
Pansy snarled in annoyance at the cage and the palette knife she was using to clean the sodding thing. This was why the castle had house elves, wasn’t it? She glanced sideways at the Gryffindor girl next to her, and deciding that associating with a Gryff was a lesser sentence then the silence of the room, she asked quietly, so ye-old-cat-lady of Gryffindor couldn’t overhear: “What’d you do to get detention, Weasley? I thought you were the good-girl of Gryffindor.”
“I got caught.” Ginny said, keeping her voice low as well.
“Well, obviously.” Pansy drawled, “but doing what? Shagging Potter in a broom cupboard?”
“Ew!” Ginny hissed vehemently. “Sweet Circe, no. And have Cho Chang’s sloppy seconds? I bloody think not!” She smirked, “That’s what I have Luna for.”
Pansy was so shocked that she allowed it to get the better of her, and it showed in her eyes, and the fact that her jaw actually dropped. “You’re not who I thought you were, Weasley.”
“Yeah, you and half of Hogwarts.” Ginny said, cursing quietly as the palette knife she was using slipped and cut her finger.
Pansy watched keenly as small beads of blood appeared on her finger. “So what’d you get caught doing then?”
Ginny shrugged, “Smoking cloves in the Forbidden Forest. What about you?”
“What about me?” Pansy asked, her arrogant upbringing coming out in the tilt of he head and the tone of her voice. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”
“Oh, shut off the spoilt pureblood princess lines, you stupid bint. I may not have as much money as you but I’m just as pure-blooded as you.”
Pansy smirked, and ran her finger along Ginny’s collecting a few drops of blood from her cut finger, and then licking it off her own. “Hm…” She said with a wicked little smile. “You’re right.” She sighed, “I got caught drinking Italian firewhiskey in an unused classroom, where Tracey Davis was a little less than fully-dressed.”
“Davis is such a lightweight.” Ginny said disgustedly. “Two shots and she’s pissed, four and she’s under the table and trying to snog you on the way down.”
“Don’t you like it when girls try to snog you?” Pansy asked in dulcet tones.
“Not when their completely drunk.” Ginny said, shaking her head.
Just then, the curfew bell rang, signaling their release from feather-covered hell. Pansy smirked, “D’you want to continue this conversation somewhere less noxious?”
“Bring some of that Italian firewhiskey and I’d be glad too.” Ginny said, slipping her outer-robe over her uniform.
“Bring your fags and it’s a deal.” Pansy murmured.
“No, Parkinson,” Ginny said with a smirk of her own. “It’s a date.”