hey hello this is a fic about two people getting sort of romantically involved (or just sexually im not sure yet). there will be more chapters than one, but i dont know how many either. this could be canon, as it starts on january 1st, 1987. voldemort is seemingly dead. all is well. i wrote the majority of this at two in the morning, and there has been little proofreading involved, so beware. you might find a few errors. feel free to tell me all about em in the comments!
"I don't think we've been formally introduced, sorry. Elliott Gaeta, pleasure to meet your acquaintance." Elliott said, extending a hand. Odette accepted. She felt both nervous and excited about talking to him. He was handsome, and though she knew him to be quite friendly, having this Seventh Year talk to her was a pretty big deal to her.
"Likewise. I'm Odette." Her voice didn't quaver. She sounded confident and slightly hoarse.
"Odette, hmm… French?" he guessed. Odette admired the way he squinted when he said that, as if he was carefully testing the waters. Her waters. She felt a bit dizzy.
"Bien sûr. Gaeta, hmm… Italian?" She smiled, coyly, squinting and raising her eyebrows in the same way he had. She'd heard of the name Gaeta before. It wasn't a famed name, but there had been someone in her history books, someone from that damned Goblin War. He must have been important for Odette to remember his name.
"Bang on, love." Of course. Odette felt very powerful, talking to a handsome Seventh Year, a Slytherin at that. She possessed the knowledge to uphold a conversation with him, and felt terribly relieved.
She also felt ridiculous, so nervous about something others wouldn't think twice about.
"I try." She still sounded confident. The hoarseness of her voice sounded perfectly sexy. It possessed a certain huskiness from itself, but now she was happy she'd woken up with a bit of a cold.
"I've seen you around. You're one of them lions, innit?"
"'Fraid so, snake." It came out cattier than intended. A lock of blonde fell into her eye as she was petrified, waiting for him to huff and stalk off in indignance.
"Oi, that wasn't an attack, love. I love the lion." He grinned and kept a hand through his hair. He had his silver and green tie bound skilfully around his head. His dirty blonde hair peeped from under it and hung into his eyes. It looked good on him.
"Oh, do you now?" Odette liked how well she sounded. Hoarse and kind of teasing, she thought she would like herself if she were in his place.
"Aye! They're felines, innit? I'm a puma myself, and I'm no hypocrite." He must mean his corporeal Patronus. Odette couldn't think of anything else. His Animagus form, perhaps, but she couldn't imagine him being any good at Transfiguration, let alone at the level of an Animagus. She couldn't imagine anyone ever reaching that level, actually; only McGonagall, maybe.
"Not very picky, either, I hear." Catty again. Odette felt she could tease him a little, but this was too much. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
"That's a story for another day, kitten. Keep your claws in." She didn't like that nickname much, even if it indicated he liked her.
"You don't get to call me that." She was getting ruder and ruder with the minute. If her face had been designed differently, she would now be beet red. Sometimes Odette loved her genes.
"My apologies, love. I'm sure I'd be more enjoyable company in the morning, though, if you're looking for polite."
"You'll do just fine." Flirty, flirty, flirty. Odette felt herself get more comfortable, talking to him. He wouldn't mind her fucking up with conversational skills, which allowed her to relax a little, for as much as she could.
"Are you hitting on me?" he asked, widening his eyes and putting a hand to his chest.
"Hm-m." Odette smiled. He had a sense of humour she appreciated.
"How old are you?" The dreaded question. Would he lose interest, the moment he found out he was talking to a simple Fifth Year?
"Fifteen." This time, she did stumble for a moment. Odette cursed her nerves. Elliott seemed to have not noticed. If he had, she appreciated the fact he didn't let it show.
"Ah, right."
"You're seventeen, aren't you?"
"…Aye." It ttok him a while to answer. He seemed lost in thought, watching a Ravenclaw down a glass of something that was undoubtedly alcoholic. A few of the boy's peers were spurring him on. Had he lost interest in her? Maybe what the boy was drinking would help her loosen up a little. Odette didn't feel like herself, so incredibly nervous.
"Would you mind getting me a bit of punch?"
"They've been fiddling with that. Just a warning."
"Good." Odette sighed, hoping he would do it.
He flashed her a wink and set off for the other side of the Hufflepuff Common Room, where there was a bowl of punch on a table. Odette watched Elliott as he filled one of the cups with the strange, blue liquid. Odette suddenly felt nervous about drinking. It was ridiculous. She'd done that before.
"Violà, mademoiselle." he said as he offered her the glass.
"Merci beaucoup. Parlez-vous français?"
"Oh no, don't get excited now."
"Oh. Sorry. Thanks, though." She smiled awkwardly and took a swig. It burned and tasted exactly as what she imagined artificially flavoured bleach to taste like. Or nail varnish remover.
"No problem. If you don't mind me asking- when do you turn sixteen?" Was he hitting on her now? Odette liked the game they were playing. She felt desirable and sexy, talking to him. He seemed to be enjoying himself. Odette was dizzy, and took another swig of the horrible concoction in her cup. She could almost physically feel the nerves dissolve, as if they were chords in her brain, snip snip, being cut away with a pair of scissors.
"Two weeks." Two weeks and three days, to be precise, but Odette didn't feel like that would add to her answer.
"So it wouldn't be that creepy if I were to hit on you in a moment." Oh, my. Odette felt her blood run a little faster. She licked her lips and smiled, looking him in the eye. He was dreamy.
"No, no. Not at all." she tried to encourage him.
"That- that's reassuring." he barked out a laugh, seeing through her. Odette felt embarrassed, but happy at the same time- she liked what the drink was doing.
"Yeah."
"Er- so."
"Yeah. You've thought of an appropriate pick-up line yet?" Odette joked, hoping it would cut through the awkwardness she felt was building.
"I don't really know any, to be honest." He didn't seem bothered by the fact. He had come a lot closer over the minutes she'd been talking to him. He wasn't that close, not like their noses were almost touching, but it was still significant. Odette decided this must be a good sign.
"Oh. Well." Good sign or not, she didn't know what to say anymore.
"Hm-m."
"How do you manage to get off so often, then?" A daring move. Though invasive, she didn't feel rude saying it- which was also a good sign. Odette cursed herself for being such a lightweight.
"Because I have the special gift that allows me to make someone feel special."
"I don't feel anything." she teased him, grinning. He grinned back, his eyes going over her cleavage for a moment. Odette's heart jumped, as if it had felt Elliott's eyes on it- stupid; he'd been looking at her boobs. Good thing they didn't jump when a boy stared at them. Odette stifled a giggle at the thought.
"That's my confidence smashed, right there." he teased her back. Odette could only giggle helplessly. She knew she'd developed a crush on him already. It was a sad truth. Did this mean she was over the Ravenclaw boy she'd been crushing on for the past week? Odette could barely keep up.
"That's not it, though, is it?"
"No. Maybe. I think they just like my sixpack and dangerous Slytherin-ness." A sixpack? Odette had always told herself she didn't care much for sixpacks, and she didn't, but Elliott looked like he had the skinny kind of sixpack, which she could live with.
"You have a sixpack?"
"Ha! Bingo."
"Can I see it?" Odette mumbled, in awe. He seemed to find her endearing and chuckled, looking down at his shoes, then back up at her. It took a while before he'd formulated an answer.
He let his eyes wander over her bosom again. Odette liked it, the power she had over him. Or that her boobs had over him. She knew she had quite good ones, but she hadn't expected him to be so happy to look at them. He probably thought he was being discreet, which, in turn, she found quite cute.
"Come to my dorm with me, and you can." She was lost for words. Well, that was a thing, then- she felt as if him asking her to sleep with him was a personal achievement, proof that yes, she could keep a good conversation going, and yes, this dress did look good on her.
She was a little disappointed in Elliott. She didn't know why.
"That's blackmailing."
"True."
"I'm not going to your dorm. I'm not going to have some Seventh Year Slytherins have a look up my skirt, thank you very much." Her revenge was to deny him what he wanted. She hadn't thought of what to do after she got him to admit to wanting her (a plan she didn't know she'd had), but decided to go with her gut. Or something. She didn't even know what her gut was telling her, apart from yes, let him do you but also no, are you sure you want to? (She wasn't.)
"Ah! That's what you're worried about."
"Quite a good reason, don't you think?"
"A wonderful one. However."
"Yeah?"
"I'm Head Boy, love."
"Oh Merlin. Right." She laughed. This made things significantly harder. Did she want to have sex with him? She was completely divided. She just didn't know. Part of her wanted to jump him and get it over with, part of her was completely petrified.
"We will be undisturbed. You'll have your own bathroom."
"I'm a virgin." It slipped out before she could stop it, and as soon as she said it she wanted to drown herself in the stuff she'd been drinking earlier. Sliding down her throat it felt as if you could dip a key in it and it would melt. Would she melt if she dropped herself in a bath of it?
Elliott didn't seem disturbed. At first she thought he hadn't heard her, but he really didn't seem to mind.
"Oh, but I'm good at that! Genuinely! I take great pride in my slow and sensual lovemaking. If you don't want to, I won't press you, though." She appreciated him saying that, but she simply wasn't sure yet.
Slow and sensual lovemaking was something she'd always wanted to try, though, and this beautiful boy seemed like an alright chap to do it with.
"No, keep coming. I think I want to, but I'm a bit scared, still."
"You're wonderfully honest."
"Don't say that. It's boring."
"You're boring."
"And you're a child."
"If you come with me, I won't be. You would make me a man."
"Are you a virgin, Elliott?" She sounded almost hopeful, saying that. Maybe she was. She wouldn't be alone in the not-knowing-what-to-do department. She knew it was dumb, had heard the stories about Elliott Gaeta and his Wicked Tongue (a genuine title for a story of this girl called Maia's), but a seed of hope had been planted.
"Not physically."
"Oh right. Mentally, you're a virgin."
"Exactly. You could be the first to make love to my soul."
"Are you drunk?" It was a possibility. Quite an assumable one, at that. It was almost one AM on New Year's Eve, who wasn't drunk then? Especially if you found yourself in the Hufflepuff Common Room at that time.
Odette wasn't drunk. Not even tipsy. She knew what she'd had had been quite strong, but it had been barely enough to calm her nerves.
"I had a bit of that punch you're having. Not drunk, though, no."
"Okay." Odette didn't know what else to say. She was happy he wasn't drunk. It would have made this whole experience of him talking to her feel a lot less valid.
"Okay. Are you drunk?" It seemed more like something to keep the conversation going than a question he needed an answer to. Odette answered anyway, desperate to keep talking to him.
"Not even close. This is disgusting." She motioned to the half-finished drink in her hand, blue and thick in the glass.
"Muggle vodka. Never had a taste for it, myself." He made a face, taking the drink from her and giving it to a Ravenclaw he seemed to know quite well. The boy had his tie around his head in a similar fashion and accepted it quite enthusiastically, immediately downing the contents of the glass. Odette watched in awe as the very obviously drunk Seventh Year then proceeded to throw up on the shoes of another boy, who was passionately groping his girlfriend's (?) boob.
"Do you often drink Muggle things?" Odette asked, returning her attention to the boy in front of her.
"Sometimes. Are you asking me about my magical background?" He asked, smiling. Odette hadn't meant it to be so transparent, but he seemed to be fine with it, so she was as well.
"Why not?"
"Pureblood." Odette was disappointed about that. She felt that now she'd found a genuinely nice Slytherin boy, that it was required for him to break through another cliché called the Pureblood status that all other Slytherins seemed to care so much about.
"What a surprise!" She sounded horribly bitter.
"No, I'm not, actually. I'm the son of a Pureblood and a Half-Blood. Never knew what to call myself." He was quick to defend himself, noticing the sharpness in her voice. He looked at her as if he was trying to get a reaction from her, and Odette decided she didn't feel like satisfying him like that.
"You're a Half-Blood, then, I think." she said and smiled up at him. He smiled back, squinting. It took him a while to generate an answer. Odette felt her heartbeat grow faster as he remained silent.
"Where do you draw that line, though?" he then said, breaking through the tension. Odette didn't know if said tension had been good or bad.
"I don't know. If one of your grandparents is a Muggle, then you're probably not the line, though." she answered, throwing her hair back. She'd been growing out her bangs for some time, and though it was starting to look a bit better, it did hang in her eyes the majority of the time.
"He was Muggleborn, actually. Does that get me any closer?" There it was again, the sharp arrogance, hidden behind a coy smile and teasing words. Odette swallowed dryly.
"A little bit. Maybe if you have kids with a Pureblood."
"And you're a Pureblood?" His shamelessness was almost infuriating at this point, but it still made her giggle. Maybe she still felt privileged to be his choice of the week. Was she his choice of the week? The month?
How long did he usually stay with one girl? She remembered him going out with a girl called Anne. That'd lasted quite long, hadn't it? She couldn't remember.
"Half-Blood. Sorry to disappoint."
"I'm fine with Half-Blood, love."
"That's great to hear." She sounded quite sarcastic, and Elliott flashed a grin. He had quite perfectly straight, white teeth, Odette noticed. She'd always envied people who were blessed with those. She, herself, had a massive gap between her front teeth, and if she skipped the brushing her teeth only once, they would take on a sad, yellowish-grey tone.
"Do you know if you want to have sex with me yet?" he asked, and Odette didn't feel like going back to his dorm. He was friendly and funny and sexy and smart, but she just didn't feel like going through the hassle of losing one's virginity. Another day.
"That's a bit forward." she said, narrowing her eyes.
"Sorry." He hadn't realised she was only teasing. She chuckled.
"That's fine. In fact, I think I've made up my mind." He immediately jumped to attention, a small smile gracing his lips. He looked older than he was, too. Man, she'd really hit the jackpot.
"Pray tell." he said in a low voice, quirking his eyebrow.
"I don't want to have sex with you today." He didn't seem fazed, just nodded.
"Okay."
"I do want to snog you today." Again, she was only granted a nod of the head.
"Okay."
"And then, maybe, I want to have sex with you tomorrow."
"Okay."
"You have my permission to keep trying. I will probably want to have sex with you in the upcoming week. I'll keep you posted." She was starting to feel like she was reading instructions, rather than telling him how she felt. She was, in a way. Elliott listened patiently.
"Okay."
"Do you promise you will respect me?" It sounded a bit desperate and a bit weepy, but there's nothing wrong with that every once in a while and Odette felt like this was important to get across.
"I do." He seemed sincere, like it came from the bottom of his heart, and Odette melted a little. A girl was throwing up just behind him, her body thrown over the sofa they were standing next to, but neither of them really noticed. Odette did note how close they suddenly were. This time her boobs were grazing his chest and she could smell him easily. He smelled wonderful, even if his breath wasn't that great.
"You won't overshare with friends, in any kind of unpleasant way?"
"I most certainly will not. You have my word." He held up a hand as if it were an oath. Odette couldn't tell if he was making a joke out of it or not. She decided she'd act dumb either way.
"Thank you."
"Do you want to go to my dorm, for the snog? Or any other place?" He motioned to the door a little carelessly, staring at her in a way that made her feel very powerful. In awe. If only she'd been that little bit more sober she would have found it embarrassing.
"I would love to go to your dorm for the snog." She grinned. He smiled back, eyes wide as if he couldn't believe his luck. Odette was sober enough to feel uncomfortable under his gaze, this time.
"I won't try anything." he reassured her, pulling up his trousers and looking around.
"Thank you. I appreciate that."
"It isn't a problem, love. Shall I lead the way?"
"Please. Is anyone looking?" Odette found herself strangely concerned about that. People didn't have to know. In fact, she found herself comforted by the thought of nobody knowing a thing about this. In the case it was a disaster.
"I don't think so." Elliott resorted to whispering, sensing her discomfort. She gave him a shove, grinning.
"Good. I'd like to be discreet about this."
"I respect that, Odette."
"Thank you."
He put a hand to her shoulder and led her out of the crowded common room. Odette shivered the moment they stepped out. Her arms and legs were bare. At the party it had been fine, but in the rest of the castle the temperature had dropped considerably. She looked down. Her nipples were pricking through the silk of her dress. She smiled to herself as Elliott led her to his dorm, warm hand in her neck.
