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rarepair_shorts2008-12-22 02:49 pm
rarepairs_mod) wrote in rarepair_shorts2008-12-22 02:49 pm
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Fic for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
thanfiction
Author: suzanne78
Recipient:thanfiction
Title: To Give and Receive
Characters/Pairings: Michael Corner/Padma Patil, Terry Boot, brief appearance by Parvati Patil.
Word Count: 2594
Summary: Michael gives Padma something other than war and Terry receives something more than he bargained for.
Rating: R
Author’s Notes: Characters loosely based onthanfiction’s Dumbledore’s Army and the Year of Darkness, and plot inspired by his one-shot By Consensus. Slight AU from DAYD, as Michael/Padma are not paired/are different. Rated R for some mature sexual content. Thanks so much to the Rare Pair Mods for beta-reading this.
Merry Christmas, TF!
Some bloody Christmas!
Michael Corner hopped off the last step of the staircase that led from the dormitories to the Ravenclaw common room. Christmas at Hogwarts.
He snorted bitterly.
Between the Carrows, Snape, and the war, it was impossible to get into the spirit of the holiday.
Michael stopped walking, holding his breath. He saw her across the room, all alone, reclining on a couch. She stretched her arms out and threw her head back, her long black hair spilling over her back and shoulders.
“Padma?”
She turned around and smiled. “Michael.” She propped her arm up on the back of the couch, her head resting on her bent elbow, and smiled lazily at him. “What? No Terry?”
“I’m meeting him in the library for Transfiguration,” he grinned, but furrowed his brow at her as she snorted. “What?”
“Of course you’re meeting him. You two’re inseparable.”
Michael stared at her face for a few quiet moments. Deciding Terry could wait, even though he was already over an hour late, he placed his book bag next to the couch and sat next to her, hoping to continue the conversation for a few moments.
“Christmas,” Padma said with a shiver. “Doesn’t feel much like the season of joy.”
“I was thinking the same thing.”
His eyes caught hers as she studied his face. She blinked for a long time, nodding silently, as if she had made some sort of decision.
“You studying hard?” He kept his voice low and soft. “If you want, you can come with me to the library.”
She watched him for a few moments before she spoke again.
“Michael?”
“What?”
She regarded him quietly, her large, brown eyes searching his face, roaming his body. He thought he imagined a spark flicker in them as she looked at him. “I’ve been thinking,”
“A Ravenclaw thinking? Extraordinary!”
She didn’t respond to his little sarcastic comment, but instead let her eyes fall to the floor. “I have all these thoughts about the war, Dumbledore, the Carrows.”
He shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”
She looked at him. “But, do you know the only thing I can think about right now? At this very moment?”
He shook his head, sure she would say something profound, something deep and meaningful—
“I’m going to die a virgin.”
Michael coughed and choked. “Wh-wh-what?”
She gaped at him, giggling incredulously. “Oh Merlin! Did I really say that?”
“Yeah. You did.” He let the silence settle around them for a couple of seconds. “Well, you know, there’s a way that you can fix that.” He grinned and wriggled his brow, hoping that his comment translated into flirting.
She looked at him and he looked at her—
Padma shot straight up and jerked on Michael’s robes, forcing him to stand. She grabbed hold of his arm with an almost frenzied enthusiasm and dragged him towards one of the little studying cubicles on the opposite side of the common room.
She yanked him inside and shut the door just as the candles embedded in the wall sconces flickered to life. She cast a couple of Locking and Sound-Muffling Charms.
Michael gaped at her. “What’re you doing, Padma?”
She jabbed her wand into her jeans and jumped up onto the small desk. “Corner, please don’t make with the innocent act. I know you know what to do when you’re alone with a girl.” Her voice was low and soft, almost husky.
Which gave him quite a thrill.
“Padma, I don’t—”
She held up her hand and he stopped talking. “Michael, it’s just us here. No one else. Right now, there is nothing on the other side of these walls.” She took his tie, wrapped it around her slender hand, and tugged on it gently.
“Nothing’s stopping us.” She blinked, but her gaze never faltered. “Do you like me?”
She continued pulling him to her, her full lips parting just so. Michael could only stare at her lips, plump and shiny in the candle-lit room. “Yeah, Padma, I do.”
A little grin grew on the right side of her face. “Good,” she said softly. “I want something.”
He touched the tip of her nose with his. “You want what, exactly?”
“To forget. The war, the Carrows, Dumbledore’s Army.” She kissed his right cheek, “I want to do something,” and she kissed the other, “that those bastards can’t control.”
She pulled away. “I want to feel something other than pain and fear.”
He blinked slowly. “You sure about this?”
Licking her lips, she shut her eyes and brought her hand around the back of his head, drawing him towards her.
Michael Corner had kissed quite a few girls over the years, but this was a different kiss. From Padma, he could feel an outpouring of passion that wasn’t necessarily love but something baser, something buried deep within, growing hotter and more frenzied the longer the kiss continued.
“Pa-Padma,” he said, his breath nearly failing him. “Are you sure?”
She said no words but instead reached for the first button of her shirt. Michael — unbelievably — reached up to stop her.
“No. Not until you tell me.”
Their eyes locked onto each other’s.
“Padma?”
She smiled. “Yes. Please.”
He breathed out in relief as he moved forwards to embrace her.
~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~
Terry Boot hated waiting, even if it was for his best mate.
Fuck!
He slammed his quill down onto the table and let out a very annoyed breath. The git was almost three hours late; Terry was practically done with their Transfiguration assignment.
Bastard!
He shoved his books and parchments into his bag, but as he finished, a thought entered his head, unbidden and unwanted—
What if the Carrows had him?
It wasn’t unreasonable. Michael was not an even-headed bloke; he could be as stupidly impulsive as any Gryffindor. Maybe he finally did something to piss off Amycus or Alecto or Snape; maybe they got him and took him to the dungeons, or chained him in the Great Hall, readying him to be whipped—
“Shit,” Terry muttered.
Legilimency?
He thought that the reach of his mind might be strong enough to penetrate walls or towers or floors. To be honest, he probably couldn’t do it with just anyone, as he had always practiced with Michael. Michael’s mind was as familiar to him as his own. Thus, seeking him, finding him, and reading his memories and emotions would be as easy to do as if Michael were standing right before him.
Well, almost as easy.
Theoretically.
It didn’t matter; he had to do something to make sure he was all right.
Terry inhaled through his nose twice and made himself relax. He funnelled his mental focus and energy until he could focus on his best mate. And he pushed out, reaching around the stony crevasses of Hogwarts, searching for—
Michael.
“Legilimens—”
—Her legs, slender and supple, wrapped around his bare waist, his white shirt wrinkled and bunched up around his chest. They breathed together with their mouths pressed against each other’s, and his hands feeling her chest, every which way possible.
Her fingers dug into his back as his thumbs touched sensitive skin.
“G-Godric! Michael.” Her breath caught in her throat. He knew it had because his mouth was there, sucking gently, nibbling softly as he continued to move down, and further down—
“Does it feel good?”
She exhaled heavily in response and clawed at him, her fingernails gripping his back. His hands moved her open shirt a little more and he lowered his head, replacing his hand with his mouth. He kissed her chest and she yelped, slapping a hand across her mouth.
He felt her other hand press his head closer to her, and his body responded the only way it could, with his crotch giving a mighty jolt. He was immersed in her scent, her touch, and her soft skin. He could feel it all the way to his—
“WHOAMAHGAW!”
Terry didn’t even realize he had shot two feet back from his table. His eyes darted left and right, making sure no one had seen his freak-out. Only when he looked down did he notice both of his hands right on top of his groin.
And, of course, “Little Tiresius W. Boot”. Fully – at – attention.
“Bugger! You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Terry’s head was still foggy from the mental gymnastics he had just performed. He picked his book bag off of the floor, using it to cover his ever-growing problem. He could sense that his connection with Michael’s brain was still wide open—
Just as he reached the door leading out to the main library stacks, Terry was hit by a powerful wave of another memory. It flooded his head, nearly suffocating him with its intensity. He grasped the wall to steady himself, a cold sweat breaking out on his brow—
His hands floated down her body, her shirt completely undone. She was shaking like a lace flower caught in a chilly breeze.
“Are you okay? Do you want me to keep going?”
She pulled him by his tie. “If you stop now, I swear I’ll AK you so hard, you’ll be back in the Founder’s Era!” She was out of breath and panting very hard.
He smirked while letting his hands linger on her legs. “Well, Padma.” He spoke against her lips. “You know,” he snickered a little bit and put his head on her shoulder, “I know that you want this, but I don’t want to rush you, right?”
She narrowed her eyes, still continuing to inhale shakily. “What do you mean?”
He slid his hands around, so they touched her thighs, swallowing to get control of his own nerves. “There are other things that we can do other than catch the Snitch.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him.
“How far have you gone with a bloke?”
She looked at him and inhaled. “Centre Hoop. Rupert Chambers. Sixth year, broom closet.”
He nodded. “What did he do?”
“Mmm,” she moaned as his hands crawled up further, right to the edge of her knickers. “Oh-hh, uh, h-he managed to, you know . . . touch a little—”
“He pet your kneazle, then?” His hand moved all the way, touching her through the thin cotton cloth. She sucked in a breath and again clawed at his shoulders.
“Mmm-Mich-MICHAEL!”
He caught a quick glimpse of her face as he hooked his fingers in the band of her knickers and pulled them down. He smiled at her hungrily and proceeded to fall to his knees.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
He brought his hands around her bare waist. “You can’t just go from centre hoop and stampede towards the Snitch, Padma.” He kissed her thighs softly and pulled her towards him. “It’s a process — step-by-step. And you haven’t experienced what the left hoop feels like.”
She whimpered. “You’re n-not . . . Michael, you don’t have t-to—”
He shrugged with his impossible smugness. “I want to, okay? ‘Tis the season to give, right?” He paused for one long moment. “I – want – to.”
His eyes lingered only long enough to watch her nod very quickly, and without another word, he leaned forward—
“DECK THE HALLS WITH BOUGHS OF HOLLY! FAAH-LAH-LA-LA—!”
CRASH!
Metal clanged to the floor. Dazed and confused, Terry barely noticed that he had walked right into a suit of armour in front of a group of wizards singing Christmas carols at the top of their lungs.
“You clumsy fool!” one of the carollers exclaimed, his pointy beard and curled moustache twitching. “Do watch where you’re going!”
“Uhhh . . .” Terry jumped and backed away, but he scrambled to regain his mental focus.
Michael. He had just entered Michael’s head and saw Michael and Padma. Together. Doing a whole lot of things that did not include studying for N.E.W.T.s.
“M-Merlin!” Terry took another breath, but he could still feel the connection between him and Michael was still open.
He debated with himself for just a few seconds before focusing his mind once again on—
“MICHAEL! MMM—!”
He lavished her. As he worked, shocks coursed through his own body. He intensified the contact, caressing her as if his life depended on it.
There was only one thing that existed right now, and it was Padma Patil. He wanted to make damn sure she’d never forget this.
His hands found her belly, bare and tight and smooth like polished stone. Slowly, his hands inched up her torso.
She screamed.
“YESPLEASEMOREMOREMORE—!”
“IT CAME UPON A MIDNIGHT CLEAR—” the carollers sang loudly. Terry pressed his forehead against the cool stone of the castle’s walls—
She responded to his caressing with moans, incoherent speech, and long, languorous breaths. He heard her, he felt her, and he knew she was getting closer—
“Terry? Are you all right?”
He turned around as a hand lay on his shoulder. He saw Padma’s face, startling him—
“MICHAEL!” She gasped but he did not stop, She let loose a wild cry, wanton and primal—
“Terry?”
Before he knew it, Terry was kissing Padma, his hand grasping her hair. All around them, the carollers’ voices grew louder and stronger.
“JINGLE BELLS! JINGLE BELLS! JINGLE ALL THE WAY!”
But the girl pushed away from him and smacked him. Several times. Hard. Right across his chest.
“Ow – ow – ow!”
“Terry? What the hell was that?”
The mental connection with Michael fell away, withering under the furious eyes of Parvati Patil.
“Parvati? Merlin’s Beard! I’m so sorry. I apologize! I don’t know . . . I didn’t mean to—!”
“I was just coming over here to make sure you were all right. I didn’t—” SMACK! — “Expect—” SLAP! — “To be manhandled!” She hit him hard again.
“OW! OW! Parvati!”
He accepted her punishment for several more minutes. “And don’t ever try anything like that again without my permission, Boot!”
He undoubtedly deserved it after all.
Once Parvati had satisfied herself that Terry had learned his lesson, she pivoted around and stormed away, muttering angrily that she needed to perfect a Bludgeoning Hex. Wincing and then breathing out in relief, he made his way towards Ravenclaw Tower.
Just before he stepped onto the spiral staircase that led back to his House, Terry reached out with his mind again. This time, however, he used his own voice, his mind coalescing around a single word. “Michael?”
There was a long pause—
“Took you long enough. I’ve been waiting up here for about an hour.”
Terry rolled his eyes and started up the stairs. “I’m not the one that that forgot all about Transfiguration!”
“Git. I know you saw Padma and I together—”
He froze mid-step. “You knew I was there?”
“Terry, give me a little credit. You were going to find out anyway—”
Terry couldn’t help but think something under his breath.
“What was that?”
“I said I’m sorry for, er, spying.”
There was a laugh and Terry swore he could hear Michael wink. “Terry?”
“Yeah?”
“Happy Christmas, mate.”
FIN
suzanne78Recipient:
thanfictionTitle: To Give and Receive
Characters/Pairings: Michael Corner/Padma Patil, Terry Boot, brief appearance by Parvati Patil.
Word Count: 2594
Summary: Michael gives Padma something other than war and Terry receives something more than he bargained for.
Rating: R
Author’s Notes: Characters loosely based on
thanfiction’s Dumbledore’s Army and the Year of Darkness, and plot inspired by his one-shot By Consensus. Slight AU from DAYD, as Michael/Padma are not paired/are different. Rated R for some mature sexual content. Thanks so much to the Rare Pair Mods for beta-reading this. Merry Christmas, TF!
Some bloody Christmas!
Michael Corner hopped off the last step of the staircase that led from the dormitories to the Ravenclaw common room. Christmas at Hogwarts.
He snorted bitterly.
Between the Carrows, Snape, and the war, it was impossible to get into the spirit of the holiday.
Michael stopped walking, holding his breath. He saw her across the room, all alone, reclining on a couch. She stretched her arms out and threw her head back, her long black hair spilling over her back and shoulders.
“Padma?”
She turned around and smiled. “Michael.” She propped her arm up on the back of the couch, her head resting on her bent elbow, and smiled lazily at him. “What? No Terry?”
“I’m meeting him in the library for Transfiguration,” he grinned, but furrowed his brow at her as she snorted. “What?”
“Of course you’re meeting him. You two’re inseparable.”
Michael stared at her face for a few quiet moments. Deciding Terry could wait, even though he was already over an hour late, he placed his book bag next to the couch and sat next to her, hoping to continue the conversation for a few moments.
“Christmas,” Padma said with a shiver. “Doesn’t feel much like the season of joy.”
“I was thinking the same thing.”
His eyes caught hers as she studied his face. She blinked for a long time, nodding silently, as if she had made some sort of decision.
“You studying hard?” He kept his voice low and soft. “If you want, you can come with me to the library.”
She watched him for a few moments before she spoke again.
“Michael?”
“What?”
She regarded him quietly, her large, brown eyes searching his face, roaming his body. He thought he imagined a spark flicker in them as she looked at him. “I’ve been thinking,”
“A Ravenclaw thinking? Extraordinary!”
She didn’t respond to his little sarcastic comment, but instead let her eyes fall to the floor. “I have all these thoughts about the war, Dumbledore, the Carrows.”
He shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”
She looked at him. “But, do you know the only thing I can think about right now? At this very moment?”
He shook his head, sure she would say something profound, something deep and meaningful—
“I’m going to die a virgin.”
Michael coughed and choked. “Wh-wh-what?”
She gaped at him, giggling incredulously. “Oh Merlin! Did I really say that?”
“Yeah. You did.” He let the silence settle around them for a couple of seconds. “Well, you know, there’s a way that you can fix that.” He grinned and wriggled his brow, hoping that his comment translated into flirting.
She looked at him and he looked at her—
Padma shot straight up and jerked on Michael’s robes, forcing him to stand. She grabbed hold of his arm with an almost frenzied enthusiasm and dragged him towards one of the little studying cubicles on the opposite side of the common room.
She yanked him inside and shut the door just as the candles embedded in the wall sconces flickered to life. She cast a couple of Locking and Sound-Muffling Charms.
Michael gaped at her. “What’re you doing, Padma?”
She jabbed her wand into her jeans and jumped up onto the small desk. “Corner, please don’t make with the innocent act. I know you know what to do when you’re alone with a girl.” Her voice was low and soft, almost husky.
Which gave him quite a thrill.
“Padma, I don’t—”
She held up her hand and he stopped talking. “Michael, it’s just us here. No one else. Right now, there is nothing on the other side of these walls.” She took his tie, wrapped it around her slender hand, and tugged on it gently.
“Nothing’s stopping us.” She blinked, but her gaze never faltered. “Do you like me?”
She continued pulling him to her, her full lips parting just so. Michael could only stare at her lips, plump and shiny in the candle-lit room. “Yeah, Padma, I do.”
A little grin grew on the right side of her face. “Good,” she said softly. “I want something.”
He touched the tip of her nose with his. “You want what, exactly?”
“To forget. The war, the Carrows, Dumbledore’s Army.” She kissed his right cheek, “I want to do something,” and she kissed the other, “that those bastards can’t control.”
She pulled away. “I want to feel something other than pain and fear.”
He blinked slowly. “You sure about this?”
Licking her lips, she shut her eyes and brought her hand around the back of his head, drawing him towards her.
Michael Corner had kissed quite a few girls over the years, but this was a different kiss. From Padma, he could feel an outpouring of passion that wasn’t necessarily love but something baser, something buried deep within, growing hotter and more frenzied the longer the kiss continued.
“Pa-Padma,” he said, his breath nearly failing him. “Are you sure?”
She said no words but instead reached for the first button of her shirt. Michael — unbelievably — reached up to stop her.
“No. Not until you tell me.”
Their eyes locked onto each other’s.
“Padma?”
She smiled. “Yes. Please.”
He breathed out in relief as he moved forwards to embrace her.
Terry Boot hated waiting, even if it was for his best mate.
Fuck!
He slammed his quill down onto the table and let out a very annoyed breath. The git was almost three hours late; Terry was practically done with their Transfiguration assignment.
Bastard!
He shoved his books and parchments into his bag, but as he finished, a thought entered his head, unbidden and unwanted—
What if the Carrows had him?
It wasn’t unreasonable. Michael was not an even-headed bloke; he could be as stupidly impulsive as any Gryffindor. Maybe he finally did something to piss off Amycus or Alecto or Snape; maybe they got him and took him to the dungeons, or chained him in the Great Hall, readying him to be whipped—
“Shit,” Terry muttered.
Legilimency?
He thought that the reach of his mind might be strong enough to penetrate walls or towers or floors. To be honest, he probably couldn’t do it with just anyone, as he had always practiced with Michael. Michael’s mind was as familiar to him as his own. Thus, seeking him, finding him, and reading his memories and emotions would be as easy to do as if Michael were standing right before him.
Well, almost as easy.
Theoretically.
It didn’t matter; he had to do something to make sure he was all right.
Terry inhaled through his nose twice and made himself relax. He funnelled his mental focus and energy until he could focus on his best mate. And he pushed out, reaching around the stony crevasses of Hogwarts, searching for—
Michael.
“Legilimens—”
—Her legs, slender and supple, wrapped around his bare waist, his white shirt wrinkled and bunched up around his chest. They breathed together with their mouths pressed against each other’s, and his hands feeling her chest, every which way possible.
Her fingers dug into his back as his thumbs touched sensitive skin.
“G-Godric! Michael.” Her breath caught in her throat. He knew it had because his mouth was there, sucking gently, nibbling softly as he continued to move down, and further down—
“Does it feel good?”
She exhaled heavily in response and clawed at him, her fingernails gripping his back. His hands moved her open shirt a little more and he lowered his head, replacing his hand with his mouth. He kissed her chest and she yelped, slapping a hand across her mouth.
He felt her other hand press his head closer to her, and his body responded the only way it could, with his crotch giving a mighty jolt. He was immersed in her scent, her touch, and her soft skin. He could feel it all the way to his—
“WHOAMAHGAW!”
Terry didn’t even realize he had shot two feet back from his table. His eyes darted left and right, making sure no one had seen his freak-out. Only when he looked down did he notice both of his hands right on top of his groin.
And, of course, “Little Tiresius W. Boot”. Fully – at – attention.
“Bugger! You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Terry’s head was still foggy from the mental gymnastics he had just performed. He picked his book bag off of the floor, using it to cover his ever-growing problem. He could sense that his connection with Michael’s brain was still wide open—
Just as he reached the door leading out to the main library stacks, Terry was hit by a powerful wave of another memory. It flooded his head, nearly suffocating him with its intensity. He grasped the wall to steady himself, a cold sweat breaking out on his brow—
His hands floated down her body, her shirt completely undone. She was shaking like a lace flower caught in a chilly breeze.
“Are you okay? Do you want me to keep going?”
She pulled him by his tie. “If you stop now, I swear I’ll AK you so hard, you’ll be back in the Founder’s Era!” She was out of breath and panting very hard.
He smirked while letting his hands linger on her legs. “Well, Padma.” He spoke against her lips. “You know,” he snickered a little bit and put his head on her shoulder, “I know that you want this, but I don’t want to rush you, right?”
She narrowed her eyes, still continuing to inhale shakily. “What do you mean?”
He slid his hands around, so they touched her thighs, swallowing to get control of his own nerves. “There are other things that we can do other than catch the Snitch.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him.
“How far have you gone with a bloke?”
She looked at him and inhaled. “Centre Hoop. Rupert Chambers. Sixth year, broom closet.”
He nodded. “What did he do?”
“Mmm,” she moaned as his hands crawled up further, right to the edge of her knickers. “Oh-hh, uh, h-he managed to, you know . . . touch a little—”
“He pet your kneazle, then?” His hand moved all the way, touching her through the thin cotton cloth. She sucked in a breath and again clawed at his shoulders.
“Mmm-Mich-MICHAEL!”
He caught a quick glimpse of her face as he hooked his fingers in the band of her knickers and pulled them down. He smiled at her hungrily and proceeded to fall to his knees.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
He brought his hands around her bare waist. “You can’t just go from centre hoop and stampede towards the Snitch, Padma.” He kissed her thighs softly and pulled her towards him. “It’s a process — step-by-step. And you haven’t experienced what the left hoop feels like.”
She whimpered. “You’re n-not . . . Michael, you don’t have t-to—”
He shrugged with his impossible smugness. “I want to, okay? ‘Tis the season to give, right?” He paused for one long moment. “I – want – to.”
His eyes lingered only long enough to watch her nod very quickly, and without another word, he leaned forward—
“DECK THE HALLS WITH BOUGHS OF HOLLY! FAAH-LAH-LA-LA—!”
CRASH!
Metal clanged to the floor. Dazed and confused, Terry barely noticed that he had walked right into a suit of armour in front of a group of wizards singing Christmas carols at the top of their lungs.
“You clumsy fool!” one of the carollers exclaimed, his pointy beard and curled moustache twitching. “Do watch where you’re going!”
“Uhhh . . .” Terry jumped and backed away, but he scrambled to regain his mental focus.
Michael. He had just entered Michael’s head and saw Michael and Padma. Together. Doing a whole lot of things that did not include studying for N.E.W.T.s.
“M-Merlin!” Terry took another breath, but he could still feel the connection between him and Michael was still open.
He debated with himself for just a few seconds before focusing his mind once again on—
“MICHAEL! MMM—!”
He lavished her. As he worked, shocks coursed through his own body. He intensified the contact, caressing her as if his life depended on it.
There was only one thing that existed right now, and it was Padma Patil. He wanted to make damn sure she’d never forget this.
His hands found her belly, bare and tight and smooth like polished stone. Slowly, his hands inched up her torso.
She screamed.
“YESPLEASEMOREMOREMORE—!”
“IT CAME UPON A MIDNIGHT CLEAR—” the carollers sang loudly. Terry pressed his forehead against the cool stone of the castle’s walls—
She responded to his caressing with moans, incoherent speech, and long, languorous breaths. He heard her, he felt her, and he knew she was getting closer—
“Terry? Are you all right?”
He turned around as a hand lay on his shoulder. He saw Padma’s face, startling him—
“MICHAEL!” She gasped but he did not stop, She let loose a wild cry, wanton and primal—
“Terry?”
Before he knew it, Terry was kissing Padma, his hand grasping her hair. All around them, the carollers’ voices grew louder and stronger.
“JINGLE BELLS! JINGLE BELLS! JINGLE ALL THE WAY!”
But the girl pushed away from him and smacked him. Several times. Hard. Right across his chest.
“Ow – ow – ow!”
“Terry? What the hell was that?”
The mental connection with Michael fell away, withering under the furious eyes of Parvati Patil.
“Parvati? Merlin’s Beard! I’m so sorry. I apologize! I don’t know . . . I didn’t mean to—!”
“I was just coming over here to make sure you were all right. I didn’t—” SMACK! — “Expect—” SLAP! — “To be manhandled!” She hit him hard again.
“OW! OW! Parvati!”
He accepted her punishment for several more minutes. “And don’t ever try anything like that again without my permission, Boot!”
He undoubtedly deserved it after all.
Once Parvati had satisfied herself that Terry had learned his lesson, she pivoted around and stormed away, muttering angrily that she needed to perfect a Bludgeoning Hex. Wincing and then breathing out in relief, he made his way towards Ravenclaw Tower.
Just before he stepped onto the spiral staircase that led back to his House, Terry reached out with his mind again. This time, however, he used his own voice, his mind coalescing around a single word. “Michael?”
There was a long pause—
“Took you long enough. I’ve been waiting up here for about an hour.”
Terry rolled his eyes and started up the stairs. “I’m not the one that that forgot all about Transfiguration!”
“Git. I know you saw Padma and I together—”
He froze mid-step. “You knew I was there?”
“Terry, give me a little credit. You were going to find out anyway—”
Terry couldn’t help but think something under his breath.
“What was that?”
“I said I’m sorry for, er, spying.”
There was a laugh and Terry swore he could hear Michael wink. “Terry?”
“Yeah?”
“Happy Christmas, mate.”
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I love Terry. I love him to bits. XD
This was great: “I was just coming over here to make sure you were all right. I didn’t—” SMACK! — “Expect—” SLAP! — “To be manhandled!” She hit him hard again.
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“WHOAMAHGAW!”
and
His eyes lingered only long enough to watch her nod very quickly, and without another word, he leaned forward—
“DECK THE HALLS WITH BOUGHS OF HOLLY! FAAH-LAH-LA-LA—!”
and the bit with Parvati were my absolute favorites.
This was so amusing, I love the juxtaposition of the sexual scenes with the humor. GREAT JOB! ♥
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This is so well-written and hilarious. Poor Terry... or not-so-poor Terry, I guess. ;) Great work!
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I love Terry being the voyeur, and that he can't make it go away. I loved the bit with Parvati.
This was so funny. And the caroling. Just hilarious.
And hot. It was hot.
And so funny.
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Great story! Lots of fun. :D
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I am so glad ceirdwenfc told me this was up here, otherwise I would have missed something truly amazing. This is a great take on Mike and Terry, a great friendship story, a great piece of writing, and a great piece of smut. That the mystery writer (I haven't looked at the reveals yet) went all the further to make it MY Mike and Terry...Wow. Just.... Wow.
You're the first person other than myself who has tackled these two in this 'verse, and whoever you are, you do it so, so well that my list of suspects is not very long, because there's only one person I know who has such a knack for Ravenclaws, and I believe I recognize a few touches of someone else's beloved Michael seeping through mine here and there. But if you are who I think you are, then that's hardly an issue, as we've chatted about how much we think alike when it comes to these guys and this year.
Still, no matter who you are, I must say again, this is an amazing gift. Particularly the way you portray the Legilimency...I know how hard that is to do, and you never let it pull you out of the story, nor lose the actual POV. Head-hopping without head-hopping takes serious skill. Which you, mystery author, clearly have.
I can't add this to the offical DAYD "canon", since as you've pointed out, it does deviate in a few details, but oh, brother, is this ever getting recced!
ETA: susan78...HA! I was RIGHT! *kisses virtual lady's hand* No one, my dear, writes the Ravenclaw boys quite like you.
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Merry Christmas again :-D And I'm glad you liked it!
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A wicked pisser if ever there was one :)
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I did rather enjoy this ;-D
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