Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter and all characters contained within this story are all property of J.K. Rowling, and all those other people I don't know about, and stuff.
Author's Notes: This ficlet was written for an old RPG I was a part of a long time ago. I thought the scene played out beautifully, so I forever immortalized it as a story. An unusual pairing, but worth a look.
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Millicent steps out of the fireplace, gently brushing off the soot that has collected on her black cloak, while softly cursing the mess that traveling by floo makes. Straightening herself from the brief trip, Millicent deftly walks through the somewhat familiar halls of Montague's manor, not stopping to look at the interesting pieces of art that adorned the halls, or open rooms.
Stopping in front of a door, Millicent quietly turns the knob, the door swinging open without a sound. She stands in the doorway, staring at Montague's back. He seemed absorbed in his own thoughts as he gazed out a large window. A brief smile fell onto Millicent's lips before turning into a slight smirk. With the eloquence that was trained to possess since she could remember, Millicent quietly crept up behind Montague's relaxed form. Within a second Millicent had a pale arm wrapped around Montague's throat, and her wand pressing into his side, not enough to hurt, but enough to make it uncomfortable.
"It's rather unwise to keep your back to an unlocked door," Millicent whispered, her mouth hovering over Montague's right ear. "wouldn't you agree?"
Montague stiffens a bit but then relaxes upon hearing familiar voice. Smirk forms around his mouth.
"Creative as always, Milli dear," Montague said not turning his gaze away from the large window, "come join me in contemplating the coming storm. I've always been rather fond of them"
The room is decorated in silver-pastel green-pastel red colors. It is relaxing. Cushions are thrown all over the place. Montague doesn't have a bed; he sleeps on the japanese mat. It is only his sleeping and meditating room, so one doesn't find books or working instruments there.
Silently Millicent pulls away from Montague's relaxed form, the fingers of her left hand trailing lightly over the exposed skin of his neck. She removes her cloak, gently folding it and placing it on the floor before taking a seat next to Montague. She glances out the large window; the sky has darkened, heavy clouds hanging ominously as it softly starts to rain. Her attentions move to the figure sitting next to her. Montague seems to not notice Millicent studying his features, but she's unsure. She continues to look at him, quietly contemplating. Her mind tries to force her into speaking, but she doesn't. The room is comfortable in silence, even when her mind is asking thousands of different questions at once, she's comfortable in Montague's presence.
She sighs lightly and looks out the window again, the rain starting to fall harder, maybe it'd be best if they didn't go anywhere until the storm had passed.
Montague seems to be enthralled with furious movement of leaden clouds and howling of the wind. The lightning illuminates the room and faces of two Slytherins both absorbed with their own thoughts. The room is bathing in comfortable silence.
"You seem to be one of the few who value silence, Milli," said Montague still hypnotized with storm. He turns his gaze to Millicent and grins wickedly. "Let's go, I'll show you my favorite place"
He takes her hand and leads her out of the room and out of the Manor. Millicent recognizes the cliff visible from Montague's room. They come closer to the edge. The wind billows their robes and heavy drops of rain hit their faces. Montague looks up at the sky and laughs.
Millicent hides a smile at Montague's childish, yet somewhat maniacal behaviour. Glad she had put her wand back in it's proper place, instead of lying it atop her cloak that lay abandoned in the manor, Millicent lightly fingered the hidden object. Comfortable she might be near Montague, but that did not mean she trusted him. She watched him step closer to the cliff, a devious smirk in place on his face. Wary, Millicent took a small step towards him, seeing a familiar glint in his eyes.
"Surely you didn't take me all the way out here just to admire the view. What are we doing out here?" She inquired, looking around, but never letting Montague out of her line of site. It was easy to see why Montague loved this spot, but Millicent wasn't naïve enough to not believe in ulterior motives. "Or did you just want to see me get all wet?"
Montague slowly turned around and eyed Millicent somewhat evaluatingly. He smirked and advanced to her stopping mere inches away. Montague bent forward as if to kiss Millicent but instead he whispered in her ear: "Keen are you". He put his arms around Millicent's slim figure and kissed the side of her neck. Montague continued playing with her earlobe, while inwardly trying to decipher what has incited him to take Millicent to his spot in the first place. He has never shown this place to anyone else before.
He was acting differently, though he was the same. It was the only thing Millicent could concentrate on. No, it wasn't just that, he felt different. Both hands traveled up the length of Montague's arms, her fingers curling around his shoulders, before gently pushing him away. She took a step back and studied the Slytherin in front of her, her hands still on his shoulders. Something was inexplicably different about Montague.
"What are we doing here?" She asked again, doing well to cover the uncertainty that laced her thoughts. Something had changed between them, and that knowledge was unsettling to her.
"Why, admiring the view, dear" said Montague not turning his gaze away from Millicent. Suddenly he felt very cold and detached from everything. Just a minute ago millions of different emotions were whirling around inside of him, while now he only felt numbness crawling up his body. Montague went closer to stand on the edge of the cliff. The ocean beneath was roaring with fury and rage. He felt the energy of the storm transfer into him, electrifying him, exciting and horrifying.
"Poetry of detached connection, is it Milli?" Montague simply stated. He turned back to her and gently kissed her. "I'm sorry dear".
Millicent was hit with three different emotions at once. Relief, shock, and, much to her surprise, disappointment. It was strange to see Montague's demeanor change so suddenly, and she realized she had seen something moments before in Montague that no one else had. Strange her mind muttered silently. Her pale fingers wrapped themselves around Montague's clothed arm as he turned away from her, her eyes staring at him, questioning.
No words came to her as she struggled to speak, and instinctively held back the anger that always so easily grew in her. How do you demand answers from questions you don't understand? "It's changed, hasn't it?" Millicent kept her gaze on Montague, hoping he had the answers she didn't.
"Everything changes, dear" Montague said still looking out at the ocean, "We change too". The numbness has already reached his heart and mind. He kept his gaze locked on the high waves transfixed with sudden understanding. Nothing was the same as before. This change frightened Montague. He became aware of Millicent's presence behind his back. Surge of uncertainty rolled over him. Montague didn't want any of it.
"I am incapable of this, dear, you know this," he said quietly, "let's go back in the manor". Montague couldn't look at Millicent. Some alien feeling was eating him. He hated this feeling. Blast it!
Millicent followed silently behind Montague, he was hiding, and it bothered her that the action actually hurt. The door shut behind them as they entered the manor, Millicent only pausing as they walked passed the room she flooed in from.
"I'm not so sure I should be here, Montague." She muttered an apology and started towards the fireplace.
"Leaving, are you?" Montague turned around to look at Millicent for the first time since the cliff incident. He felt deeply wounded with regret but showed no sign of it. Montague silently nodded and asked Millicent to wait a bit. He quickly went upstairs and retrieved Millicent's cloak. It was silky and very soft. Montague cursed softly under his breath and went back.
"Do you still want me to accompany you to Knockturn Alley, Millicent?" he asked while helping her with the cloak. He carefully avoided her gaze.
Millicent stared fixedly at Montague's hands as awkward silence came between them. "Perhaps another time." She said, taking a small step away from Montague, who, it seemed, wanted nothing more than to remove himself from her presence. Angry at herself for not being able to fall back into her passive disposition, Millicent walked towards the fireplace. "I'll be seeing you later then, I suppose?" Not waiting for a response, she stepped into the fireplace, poetry of detached connection she thought, and smiled grimly, and then she was gone.
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End
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