letterblade

S'more ficlets, since everybody complains too much when I call 'em drabbles:

For

tigerlilyevans (Hermione/Lucius; not non-con or rape; make me grin). Not sure whether I'll make you grin, 'cause I don't know you that well, but... I've always vaguely wanted to do something with this pairing, since there's not nearly enough of it, but had no smutbunnies for it. Wah.

Tricks and Tips

Each day Ron almost expects it to be Ginny clattering down the stairs into the Burrow’s kitchen where he's sharing toast with Harry, and each day it's Hermione. It's twice as bad in the evening, because Hermione doesn't always come downstairs after dinner--her books are all in her room--but Ginny does. Or did, before the Malfoys took her.

But it's Hermione who hurries out into the Burrow's little living room this night. It is the summer of hell, and Ginny is still gone.

"I found it! I know what I'm going to do!" she exclaims breathlessly. Harry and Ron look up tiredly, then startle at the way her robes are charmed slinkily tight around her waist and her hair is piled elaborately on her head. She puffs out her chest and declares proudly, "I am going to seduce Lucius Malfoy!"

Ron's jaw falls open. Fred and George, in the corner with a pile of chirping fuzzballs, look up and cheer.

"I knew something was coming when we caught you with that copy of Six Hundred Tricks and Tips for Witches With Important Goals and Recalcitrant Men," Harry mutters under his breath.

~~~

For

deralte (James/Narcissa; newlywed Narcissa comes to visit a friend at school; sweets). Augusta Longbottom would like to inform the world that the never-dissolving gobstopper is actually hers, as she discovered it's the only way to get a drunk Albus Dumbledore to shut up. Longest yet. Anti-non-drabble people, hide.

Gobstop

I came home that evening to find Narcissa Warrington--no, Malfoy by now, damn it--sitting in the common room with Peter, laughing as always at his atrocious puns. It took me a few moments to remember that she’d completed Hogwarts last spring and gone off to marry Lucius Malfoy, and it was only then that I wondered what she was doing here.

"Oh, Lucius was over on some Ministry business, so I decided I'd pay a visit to my old friend, eh?"

Sirius and Remus and I had never known her that well, but Peter had, by whatever fluke of luck and oddness, and so there she was, immaculately elegant as always, playing wizard's chess with him as he told her shaggy dog stories about rooks. I dropped into an armchair, and Sirius delved into his Honeydukes bag and dangled something in front of my nose.

Later that night, Remus had dragged Peter off for a study session, leaving Narcissa a fish out of water in our common room wondering when her husband would be done with his business. Sirius dredged up some puns almost as bad as Peter’s from his infinite store of dirty jokes, and I helplessly attempted to amuse her until even Sirius drifted off to bed and I was left trying to be a gentleman while the fire guttered. So I asked her about her husband, and she said a few abortive things and changed the subject, and I began to realize that no bona fide Ministry business could possibly keep him up this late.

"No," said Narcissa finally, after a long span of silence. "He's seeing Snape again."

I flinched. She looked into the fire for a long time, then turned to look at me, with a sort of desperation.

"Mrs. Malfoy," I said. "Er..."

She rose and crossed the room quickly, took the mostly empty Honeydukes bag from the side table, and slipped out a large strawberry gobstop, the kind that’s enchanted never to actually dissolve. I stared at her.

"Don't call me that," she said, very quietly, and with a sort of wistful sweetness, as she touched my mouth with her finger--and when my lips instinctively parted, she slid the sweet inside, and strawberries exploded in my mouth. I felt my eyes widen, and sucked on the thing instinctively, and could not speak.

She looked in the bag again.

"Oh, that was the last strawberry. My favorite flavor."

And the next thing she slid into my mouth was her tongue, and I froze, then lifted my hands to touch her slender shoulders and did not protest.

~~~

My smut muse was asleep--sorry if I disappointed.