This has to be one of the stupidest things he's ever done. It's nighttime, the water is no doubt freezing, and he's tanked to the gills. Oh, fuck it, he thinks. You only live once
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Psyche stood behind Lupin with a finger pressed to her lips--directed at Snape--and an indescribably impish look in her eyes. A perfect, three foot wide sphere of lake water hovered in the air just above Lupin's head.
Lupin, who had been laughing (good-naturedly) at Snape's discomfiture, heard Psyche's voice and stopped dead. "Oh God," he said, and covered his face with his hands as if that would somehow protect him.
Lupin sputtered, gasped, and shook water out of his hair like a wet dog. "I'd get you back for that, but you'd probably turn me into a newt or something."
Lupin stuck out his tongue back at her, and splashed a little water in her face. It wasn't really just compensation for being thoroughly drenched, but then, he knew Greek deities could be awfully touchy.
"Hey, look," he added sotto voce. "Snape's having fun!"
"I know, isn't it great?" Psyche whispered back. "What in the known world has he been drinking? We need to start spiking his coffee."
Grinning, she put her hands on her hips and leaned forward. "You, professor, are far too chivalrous for your own good." A thousand butterflies, made of water, shaped themselves out of the lake's surface, swirled through the air around the swimmers for a moment, catching the dim light like crystal, and then began pelting into Lupin, Crowley, and Snape with tiny splashes.
Lupin ducked under the water again to avoid the onslaught. Coming back up for air, he suddenly had a brilliant idea. "I wonder if Snape has any gillyweed?"
"Kid stuff," called Crowley holding his arm up against the pelting butterflies. With a complicated motion, he made a tall narrow wave that looked remarkably like a basilisk and sent it back towards Psyche, Lupin, and Snape.
Psyche made an "eep!" sound, and launched herself up out of the water just in time for the top of the wave to hit the tips of her toes. Her wings flapped frantically till she caught her balance, the water-basilisk passing under her towards the two wizards, and after a moment she took in a breath, smirked innocently at Crowley, and asked, "You were saying?"
A grin spread across Crowley's face. Maybe he hadn't soaked her with water, but now he could see her beautiful form without the distortion from the lake. "I was saying that you are absolutely stunning, fair one," he said in her own tongue.
Switching back to English, he added, "And I'm impressed that you can fly with wet wings. Mine are useless when they're wet, although I could probably stand on the water. That'd be ironic..."
"....yes. Well. Um." Psyche hadn't really been thinking about the fact that she was naked, as a matter of fact. She was back to the blushing again.
"They're. Well. They don't really get wet, actually. They're sort of more like...a metaphor made physical? If that makes sense?" She settled back down into the water nearer Crowley, and turned to show them. "They just appeared when I was made a goddess. It's a very good thing they're not exactly like real butterfly wings, you know, or they'd be getting damaged all the time."
"Yeah, I think I might be able to grasp what you mean," said Crowley dryly but with a smile playing on his lips.
"They're nice, though. Mine are more bird-like and there was a time when they were getting damaged all the time..." He got lost in old memories for a moment before he returned to the present and extended his own large wings to show Psyche, making sure to keep them dry. It felt good to have them out for a change, catching the slight breeze over the lake, and he stretched, cat-like. As he did so, the irridescent black feathers fluttered and shone under the moonlit sky.
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"Remus," she said sweetly. "Don't look up."
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"Hey, look," he added sotto voce. "Snape's having fun!"
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Grinning, she put her hands on her hips and leaned forward. "You, professor, are far too chivalrous for your own good." A thousand butterflies, made of water, shaped themselves out of the lake's surface, swirled through the air around the swimmers for a moment, catching the dim light like crystal, and then began pelting into Lupin, Crowley, and Snape with tiny splashes.
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"Snakes beat butterflies any day of the week."
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Switching back to English, he added, "And I'm impressed that you can fly with wet wings. Mine are useless when they're wet, although I could probably stand on the water. That'd be ironic..."
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"They're. Well. They don't really get wet, actually. They're sort of more like...a metaphor made physical? If that makes sense?" She settled back down into the water nearer Crowley, and turned to show them. "They just appeared when I was made a goddess. It's a very good thing they're not exactly like real butterfly wings, you know, or they'd be getting damaged all the time."
Reply
"They're nice, though. Mine are more bird-like and there was a time when they were getting damaged all the time..." He got lost in old memories for a moment before he returned to the present and extended his own large wings to show Psyche, making sure to keep them dry. It felt good to have them out for a change, catching the slight breeze over the lake, and he stretched, cat-like. As he did so, the irridescent black feathers fluttered and shone under the moonlit sky.
Reply
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