Legs, a harry potter fanfic

Legs

Strong, masculine hands gripped the side edges of one of the common room armoires; nearly black eyes gazed out from under a shaggy mop of ebon. His hair was damp; it had been raining relentlessly for the past week or so. Peering at himself in the mirror above the armoire with an almost amused look, the young black seemed to be deep in thought over something or other. The counter of the armoire was cluttered with odds and ends. A half eaten chocolate frog wiggled around—James had only consumed its legs. A hairbrush was pushed back against the bottom of the mirror, and a few Gryffindor related indicia were scattered about the left side. The rest of the room didn't look much tidier. Boys will be boys, after all.

Finally, he straightened up his posture and rested both of his hands—which were now balled up into fists—on the relative center of the polished wooden top of the dresser. Casually, he sucked the side of his lower lip into his mouth and chewed on it for a couple of moments while he almost glared into his own eyes. Sirius broke his stare and gave his head a sideways sort of swish, to rid his left eye of a few thick, obtrusive pieces of moist hair.

He gave a smirk; placed almost perfectly on his cheek bone was a nice red splotchy flush and the lower portion of his eye was darkened. The smirk faded, however, and he went back to chewing on his lip, remaining in that same thought like state for at least a few moments. That witch had the nerve to slap him. All he did was compliment on how shapely her figure was—like it was a sin to flatter someone! Occasionally, and despite his sheer show of amusement for the entire situation, he would bring a tan hand to his cheek at idly pat at the spot, eyes wincing shut when his touch was too hard. Perhaps he could milk this one for all it was worth later, and with the right crowd.

Shortly after he decided to stop vainly staring at his gorgeous reflection, three boys waltzed through the door in a nearly straight line; the first was tall and muscular but lanky, and very attractive. He was followed by a classier, naturally attractive teenager, and the shorter, pudgier of the three took up the rear.

"Oi, Padfoot. Legs got you good!" the infamous James Potter stated through a cocky chuckle that hinted that he had little care for Sirius' bruised ego. It was simply entertaining. 'Legs' was the name they called that tall, blonde Ravenclaw. Peter Pettigrew followed suit, as he did many times, and Remus Lupin gave a grin of amusement, though refrained from the almost mocking laughter James and Peter were participating in.

But it was all in good fun, of course. And shortly after the two boys began to laugh, Sirius gave a few chuckles as well, regardless of how each laugh hurt his poor, perfect cheek.

This is the first fiction I have even attempted to write since April of 2005. Been a while; I just haven't had the urge to write, or rather, I have, and the ideas, but I just haven't written. Don't be too harsh on it. It's just a little tidbit. When I role-play, Legs is the said Ravenclaw, so I figured she deserved a spot in a ficlet. A special thanks to Kate for editing this for me.