Propositions and Purposes
Rating: K
Summary: I whisper my proposition in her ear, as the murmur of conversation swells and ebbs below us. She pretends to deliberate, but already I know her answer. (one-shot)
Disclaimer: I own nothing related to the Harry Potter books or movies. All credit goes to J.K. Rowling and the producers.
"Study, is all. You enjoy studying, don't you? Your marks say you do. It's just studying of slightly deeper stuff, stuff they wouldn't teach you at Hogwarts."
"But why?"
Why is she so stubborn? Why does she skirt around like this, those are the 'why's I'd like answered.
"Mulciber?"
Oh…a tremble in her voice now. Is she scared? Is she faking it, is she simply tired?
I smile at her, more a flash of teeth than anything else, I know. "Cousin-"
"I'm not your cousin, Mulciber."
As she says this she looks at me quickly and then smirks as her gaze turns away. I know that, at least.
"No…And I'm glad of it too." I slide an arm around her waist and swiftly kiss her ear. She squirms in my hold, but I don't let go. I never have, and she's never wanted me to.
Has she?
Her hands cover my arm, too quick, too strong, and she takes it firmly off her body. I take a step back, affronted and angry.
"Andromeda."
Having done her task, her hands fidget, tucking back a strand of hair and then moving fluidly only to mess with a pocket. I take her with my eyes before doing so with my body.
Smoothly, I slide both my arms around her now, making sure she can feel my whole body against hers. She's still now. Of course.
She's a talented witch of only fourteen, with a head that can do well in school but not have the sense to follow her family's pureblood tradition. She's an outsider in her family, though they conceal it for the sake of propriety, and I never considered her to be mine, but all the same; young witches are good for many purposes.
I ask her my question again; it's perfectly reasonable. Again, a small headshake and an interrogative retort.
Well. As I just said; another purpose will have to be found for her.
I kiss her ear once again. My pseudo-courtship has been going for several months now. It's not hard to go missing for a few minutes at a time at the Pureblood parties. No one would make the connection with us, a young teenager and a man in his late twenties.
I whisper my proposition in her ear, as the murmur of conversation swells and ebbs below us. She pretends to deliberate, but already I know her answer.
I smile into her neck. She was all too easy, this one. It's just as well she'll never amount to anything in the Pureblood world.
Mmm. therogue(dot)net generator.
I dunno where this came from, to be honest. I guess I wanted to write > didn't want an elaborate plot > found two characters that could work. That generator is crazy.
One-shot for now.