Chapter 8!
Disclaimer: Once Fallon is done with him, Warrington won't be returned in mint condition. Sorry. Well... actually, I'm not sorry. *cackles*
~ ~ ~
The ingredients were all set. Fallon, armed with a small, collapsible cauldron filled with potions ingredients and cups and tubes of various sizes, as well as a small knife, made her way towards the entrance of the Slytherin Common Room. "Cassius Warrington, get your arse over here!"
Warrington lazily stood up from where he'd been lounging on the couch, reading "Quidditch Through the Ages" by Kennilworthy Whisp, and walked over towards where Fallon stood by the door of the Common Room. "What do you need, Anderson?"
"Someone to carry this stuff, obviously." Fallon unceremoniously shoved the cauldron into his arms, then grabbed his sleeve, pulling him towards the door. Warrington rolled his eyes, and followed her out.
"Where are you going with that? Why can't you make it in the Common Room?" Warrington asked her curiously.
"Because the cauldron needs to burn on an extremely hot fire for the potion to be potent. I'm going to have to make it in the Potions lab." Fallon walked straight towards Snape's classroom. Soon, arriving at the door, she extracted a key from her pocket, and fit it into the keyhole. The latch glowed emerald for a moment, then the door opened. Fallon muttered an "Incendio", and the room lit up.
Warrington raised an eyebrow, "Where'd you get the key?"
"From Snape's office, of course," Fallon answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"He lets you have his key?" Warrington asked in surprise, "Good at potions or not, you're a student."
"My class is his last of the day. I offered to bring the leftover essence of hellebore to his office. He gave me his key, and I transfigured a hairpin into a duplicate," Fallon said airily, "Not THAT difficult, really."
"You're crazy," he informed her matter-of-factly. She merely grinned and walked over to one of the labs. He followed, and set her things down on the bench, "All right, is that all, your highness?"
Fallon pouted prettily, "So eager to leave me, are you?"
Warrington paused, and blinked for a moment, before smirking, "You're flirting with me."
"Just getting back at you, for staring at my legs in the library that other day," Fallon said lightly, "I should hit you for that."
"Ooh... kinky."
"Shut up."
"Make me," he leered at her. The common invitation for a snog.
Fallon gracefully stood up from where she had been sitting, and, hips swaying, walked over to him, putting her hands on his shoulders and sitting him down on a chair. Slowly, she unwrapped the black chiffon scarf that she'd worn over her robes, and daintily straddled his lap. His face took on a look of pleasant surprise, then he leered in expectation. She grinned wickedly, and leaned over.
AND GAGGED HIM WITH HER SCARF!
"You told me to make you shut up."
Laughing merrily at the gagged, spluttering, wide-eyed Warrington sitting in his seat, she got up from his lap and walked over towards her cauldron and started to work, soon wholly absorbed in her work.
Cassius Warrington unknotted the scarf from around his mouth, and, all notions of leaving forgotten, fixed his attention on the spunky wench who was cheerily slicing sage leaves a few seats away. Her cauldron was simmering, occasionally emitting clouds of icy, almost wintery-scented smoke, despite the temperature. She added the sage leaves, and the room grew much warmer.
Fallon, bent over the steaming, sweltering cauldron, unfastened the buttons of her robe, and quickly pinned her hair up into a messy bun, using her wand as a hairpin to hold it in place. Warrington stared.
Neck, collarbone... all bare. She wore nothing under the robe except a tiny green satin camisole. The opened robe gave him a very... good view. A view that became even better when, after she had added the rosemary leaves to the potion and the room became even warmer, she shrugged off the robe entirely. He could see delicate, slender black bra straps.
Warrington felt his palms start sweating, and forced himself to glance away for a moment. All right... all right. Let us remember who this is. Fallon Anderson. Evil crazy maniacal sadistic Slytherin bitch. She who smites. The high-heeled-groin-kicker. Knife-wielding man-hater. Sharp-tempered and sharp-tongued. Bad. Bad. Bad. VERY bad.
Who just happened to lift an arm to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Making the tiny shirt she wore shift just so.
Bloody... bloody...... Fallon. Heinous. Scary....
Well, all right, so she was fun to be around. Even if a little... well, a lot... aggressive. The sharp tongue was quite entertaining. And... most of her bitchy behavior was directed towards those of other houses, and generally she had a reason for it. And she was clever. And... her shirt just shifted again.
And he was obviously going mad.
Slinking down in his chair, he picked up the copy of "Quidditch Through the Ages" and put it in front of his face. Upside down.
An agonizing hour later, she finally bottled up her truth potion, and cleared off any mess that she'd made. Putting the robe back on, she washed her hands and glanced at her oddly silent companion. "Hey, you asleep or something? We're leaving."
Warrington sat up with a start at her words, and hastily put his book down. She was looking back at him, her cauldron now clean and holding only a few empty containers and a bottle of truth potion. She had her robes back on, and buttoned completely up.
This was bad. When he knew what was under them. Bad.
He stood up, and took the cauldron from her wordlessly.
"Why, thank you," she said in a slightly mocking voice, before extinguishing the lights and walking out of the Potions lab, locking the door behind her. He followed, silent.
They reached the Common Room entrance, and she spoke the password before walking in, taking the cauldron from him with a curious look. "You're awfully quiet. And you're not even gagged any more."
"Er... I'm all right," Warrington swallowed, then grinned, "Would you rather I snipe at you?"
She rolled her eyes and hit him playfully on the arm, "I was just rather surprised. You had finally learnt to shut up after seven long years. It's near uncanny, you know."
"Sorry to scare you, love," he purred, "I won't do it again."
"You're doing it right now," she retorted, "Since when did you call me 'love'? That's scary."
He laughed as she whirled around and walked off to put away her potions paraphernalia, then frowned slightly. All right. Now, for a cold shower. To clear his muddled head, of course.
~ ~ ~
Bwahaha! More to come!
Disclaimer: Once Fallon is done with him, Warrington won't be returned in mint condition. Sorry. Well... actually, I'm not sorry. *cackles*
~ ~ ~
The ingredients were all set. Fallon, armed with a small, collapsible cauldron filled with potions ingredients and cups and tubes of various sizes, as well as a small knife, made her way towards the entrance of the Slytherin Common Room. "Cassius Warrington, get your arse over here!"
Warrington lazily stood up from where he'd been lounging on the couch, reading "Quidditch Through the Ages" by Kennilworthy Whisp, and walked over towards where Fallon stood by the door of the Common Room. "What do you need, Anderson?"
"Someone to carry this stuff, obviously." Fallon unceremoniously shoved the cauldron into his arms, then grabbed his sleeve, pulling him towards the door. Warrington rolled his eyes, and followed her out.
"Where are you going with that? Why can't you make it in the Common Room?" Warrington asked her curiously.
"Because the cauldron needs to burn on an extremely hot fire for the potion to be potent. I'm going to have to make it in the Potions lab." Fallon walked straight towards Snape's classroom. Soon, arriving at the door, she extracted a key from her pocket, and fit it into the keyhole. The latch glowed emerald for a moment, then the door opened. Fallon muttered an "Incendio", and the room lit up.
Warrington raised an eyebrow, "Where'd you get the key?"
"From Snape's office, of course," Fallon answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"He lets you have his key?" Warrington asked in surprise, "Good at potions or not, you're a student."
"My class is his last of the day. I offered to bring the leftover essence of hellebore to his office. He gave me his key, and I transfigured a hairpin into a duplicate," Fallon said airily, "Not THAT difficult, really."
"You're crazy," he informed her matter-of-factly. She merely grinned and walked over to one of the labs. He followed, and set her things down on the bench, "All right, is that all, your highness?"
Fallon pouted prettily, "So eager to leave me, are you?"
Warrington paused, and blinked for a moment, before smirking, "You're flirting with me."
"Just getting back at you, for staring at my legs in the library that other day," Fallon said lightly, "I should hit you for that."
"Ooh... kinky."
"Shut up."
"Make me," he leered at her. The common invitation for a snog.
Fallon gracefully stood up from where she had been sitting, and, hips swaying, walked over to him, putting her hands on his shoulders and sitting him down on a chair. Slowly, she unwrapped the black chiffon scarf that she'd worn over her robes, and daintily straddled his lap. His face took on a look of pleasant surprise, then he leered in expectation. She grinned wickedly, and leaned over.
AND GAGGED HIM WITH HER SCARF!
"You told me to make you shut up."
Laughing merrily at the gagged, spluttering, wide-eyed Warrington sitting in his seat, she got up from his lap and walked over towards her cauldron and started to work, soon wholly absorbed in her work.
Cassius Warrington unknotted the scarf from around his mouth, and, all notions of leaving forgotten, fixed his attention on the spunky wench who was cheerily slicing sage leaves a few seats away. Her cauldron was simmering, occasionally emitting clouds of icy, almost wintery-scented smoke, despite the temperature. She added the sage leaves, and the room grew much warmer.
Fallon, bent over the steaming, sweltering cauldron, unfastened the buttons of her robe, and quickly pinned her hair up into a messy bun, using her wand as a hairpin to hold it in place. Warrington stared.
Neck, collarbone... all bare. She wore nothing under the robe except a tiny green satin camisole. The opened robe gave him a very... good view. A view that became even better when, after she had added the rosemary leaves to the potion and the room became even warmer, she shrugged off the robe entirely. He could see delicate, slender black bra straps.
Warrington felt his palms start sweating, and forced himself to glance away for a moment. All right... all right. Let us remember who this is. Fallon Anderson. Evil crazy maniacal sadistic Slytherin bitch. She who smites. The high-heeled-groin-kicker. Knife-wielding man-hater. Sharp-tempered and sharp-tongued. Bad. Bad. Bad. VERY bad.
Who just happened to lift an arm to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Making the tiny shirt she wore shift just so.
Bloody... bloody...... Fallon. Heinous. Scary....
Well, all right, so she was fun to be around. Even if a little... well, a lot... aggressive. The sharp tongue was quite entertaining. And... most of her bitchy behavior was directed towards those of other houses, and generally she had a reason for it. And she was clever. And... her shirt just shifted again.
And he was obviously going mad.
Slinking down in his chair, he picked up the copy of "Quidditch Through the Ages" and put it in front of his face. Upside down.
An agonizing hour later, she finally bottled up her truth potion, and cleared off any mess that she'd made. Putting the robe back on, she washed her hands and glanced at her oddly silent companion. "Hey, you asleep or something? We're leaving."
Warrington sat up with a start at her words, and hastily put his book down. She was looking back at him, her cauldron now clean and holding only a few empty containers and a bottle of truth potion. She had her robes back on, and buttoned completely up.
This was bad. When he knew what was under them. Bad.
He stood up, and took the cauldron from her wordlessly.
"Why, thank you," she said in a slightly mocking voice, before extinguishing the lights and walking out of the Potions lab, locking the door behind her. He followed, silent.
They reached the Common Room entrance, and she spoke the password before walking in, taking the cauldron from him with a curious look. "You're awfully quiet. And you're not even gagged any more."
"Er... I'm all right," Warrington swallowed, then grinned, "Would you rather I snipe at you?"
She rolled her eyes and hit him playfully on the arm, "I was just rather surprised. You had finally learnt to shut up after seven long years. It's near uncanny, you know."
"Sorry to scare you, love," he purred, "I won't do it again."
"You're doing it right now," she retorted, "Since when did you call me 'love'? That's scary."
He laughed as she whirled around and walked off to put away her potions paraphernalia, then frowned slightly. All right. Now, for a cold shower. To clear his muddled head, of course.
~ ~ ~
Bwahaha! More to come!