Well everyone, here I am again with a much-awaited chapter.
I'd just like to take a moment to mention the review thing. First of all, thank you all so much for the amazing feedback you've given me. I love getting feedback for my stories—constructive criticism, fangirlish babbling, anything. You guys totally keep my ego boosted (not that I need it. Hehehe.) and I totally appreciate it. Up until now, I've been responding to each review individually, via the next chapter of the story. Apparently, there is a fanfiction(dot)net rule that says we're not allowed to do that. I know that there's the individual reply button on reviews now, and I will try to respond to you. But I don't always have time to do that, so I'm just letting you know that if you don't get a reply back, it's not because I don't care what you think. I take all of your reviews to heart, and I do read them. Just wanted to let you know about that.
Now, about the story. I know that, romantic involvement aside, the plot doesn't seem to be going anywhere. And unfortunately, this is going to be the last chapter for awhile. I'm involved in a show at my school, and hell month (yeah, some schools have hell week, we have hell month) is coming up pretty quick. I've got a lot of line-learning and rehearsals, so I won't have much time to write. So don't worry, I haven't dropped off the face of the planet.
Well, I think that's it as far as notes are concerned. Thanks again for all the feedback of the last chapter, and I hope you enjoy this one!
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Majikku no Seirei: Chapter 12
Dare
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At seven o'clock on Monday morning, Harry was woken by Kurama's shocked voice.
"You have got to be kidding me."
Groggily, Harry propped himself up on his elbow and peered through his bed curtains. Groping for his glasses and finding them, he slid the spectacles on and looked around the room, spotting Kurama. The redhead was standing in front of the full-length mirror, shirtless and glaring at his reflection as he examined the waistband of his school pants.
Kurama spotted him and sent him an apologetic look. "Sorry, Harry. Did I wake you?"
"No…well, yeah, but I need to get up anyway." Harry stretched and rolled out of bed. "If you gained weight, don't worry about it. Everyone does, because the food's so good here. No one will notice."
"No, I didn't gain weight." He frowned at his reflection again. "I think I'm losing weight, actually. These fit when I bought them." He gestured to the slacks and sighed. "Can I borrow a belt, Harry? You're closer to my size than Ron."
"Sure." Still slightly disoriented, Harry stumbled over to his wardrobe and tugged a belt from one shelf. He tossed it to the redhead, who caught it with one hand and nodded his thanks, threading it through the belt loops. Harry sat back down on his bed, watching Kurama absently. He did look like he had lost some weight; there were a good five or six centimeters between Kurama's hips and the top of the pants. Molly Weasley came to mind, and he could picture her fussing over Kurama, telling him that he was "far too thin" and then promptly bustling him off to force-feed him. He found himself grinning in spite of himself.
Kurama, fastening the belt and reaching for a shirt, glanced at him. "What?"
"Nothing. Just thinking about Ron's mum." Dragging himself back to his clothes, he started rummaging through piles until he found a clean pair of boxers. "Whenever she sees me, she always tells me I'm too thin, then starts trying to get me to eat a seven course meal."
"Are you talking about my mum?" Ron asked, sitting up and blinking blearily at them.
Harry grinned at him. "You know it, mate."
Ron made a face. "You're sick sometimes, Harry." He looked at the grandfather clock and groaned, flopping back against his pillows. "Jesus, mates, it's barely seven! Why are you awake?"
"My fault;" Kurama said apologetically.
"He seems to have this weird insecurity thing with his looks;" Harry told Ron.
Ron picked his head up again, raising his eyebrows at Kurama. "You're freaking kidding me. Shut up, okay? Every straight chick in this school wants to shag you."
"Dude, some of the straight blokes in this school want to shag you." Harry threw in, then blinked at the rather surprised looks he was getting from Kurama, Ron, and the newly-conscious Seamus. The sandy-haired boy looked a bit intrigued.
"What's this about straight blokes shagging Kurama?"
"Nothing." Kurama told him, coloring slightly. "Go back to sleep."
"No way, now I'm curious." he tossed a pillow at Dean. "Hey, wake up. Some bloke'sshagging Kurama."
Dean pulled his blankets over his head. "So what?"
"We've got pictures."
The black boy shot out of bed. "What?" He caught Seamus's grin and scowled. "You're a right prick, you are."
"I try." Seamus looked back at Kurama. "So, who's shagging you?"
"No one's shagging me!" He exclaimed, then blinked. "And who came up with the expression 'shagging', anyway?"
"Ron started it;" Harry said helpfully.
"Would 'banging' be a better term?" Ron suggested, a wicked grin spreading over his features.
Seamus snickered. "Look at Ron! That's a smirk worthy of the twins, that is!"
"True that, true that." Dean agreed readily, then glanced at Kurama, who was threading his school tie into place with a purposefully detached expression. "Not so fast, you. Who is it?"
"No one! Ron's being delusional." Flipping his hair decisively over his shoulder, Kurama raised his eyebrows at the other redhead. "Fantasizing, Ron?" He shot the gaping boy a mischievous grin and vanished down the stairwell.
There were a few moments of silence.
Dean cleared his throat awkwardly. "So, Ron, mate…something you want to tell us?"
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"Busy morning?" Lance greeted Kurama as he fell into step beside the redhead.
Kurama didn't bother to ask if Lance had been waiting for him. "Hardly." He grinned. "They want to know which straight bloke is banging me."
Lance made a face. "That doesn't even make sense."
"Tell me about it." He laughed softly at the older man's expression and hit him lightly on the arm. "Stop it. People will watch."
"Let them."
"It's your job."
"Point taken." As they entered the Great Hall, Lance craned his neck up to look at the ceiling. "Nice day."
"Mm. Warm, too, for December." November had flashed by so quickly it was as if it hadn't happened, and the Winter holidays were drawing close.
"Well, it's early yet for snow, even here." Lance sighed. "Well, off you go to the Gryffindor table, Minamino. Eat something for once, you look like you're losing weight." He clapped Kurama on the shoulder—his hand lingering just an instant longer than necessary in a gentle squeeze—and headed off to the staff table.
Kurama stared after him, an almost-frown playing around the corners of his mouth as he took a seat next to Hermione, another early-riser.
"Good morning;" she greeted him, barely looking up from a well-worn copy of Hogwarts, A History.
"Good morning;" he responded. "You've read that quite a few times, haven't you?"
She put it down, smiling. "Oh, yes. It's one of my favorite books, I've just never had the chance to go out and buy a new copy. You've read it, haven't you?"
He nodded. "Yes. It was a pretty good read."
"What was?" Harry asked as he and Ron slid into the seats across from them. Ron firmly refusing to meet Kurama's eyes.
"Hogwarts, a History." Hermione explained, then looked exasperatedly at Kurama. "They've never read it. They refuse to. Probably just to annoy me."
He laughed. "I wouldn't be overly surprised."
At the High Table, Dumbledore was standing up. He tapped his wand against his goblet, causing several mermaid-shaped fireworks to spring out of his orange juice. "Quiet down, quiet down." As the Hall settled into silence, he continued. "First of all, I would like to wish you all a very happy December twelfth. Second of all, to our sixth years, today is a very special day for you all. Today, as some of you may know, is sixth year dare day, a tradition begun in my years at Hogwarts." he paused to look rather nostalgically into space for a moment, before blinking several times and continuing. "Now, this is a day where the sixth years of one house may dare the sixth years of any other house to do anything they wish—"
Several sixth years perked up tremendously.
"—under two conditions. One, all dares must follow school rules." Several students' ecstatic expressions wilted. "Two, the daring house must also perform the same dare."
"Well, there goes my idea of making Malfoy jog naked into the lake;" Ron muttered under his breath. Harry snickered.
Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Now, when your House reaches a conclusion for your dare, you may state it during any mealtime today. That will be all." The mermaids dove back into his goblet and he sat down, striking up an animated conversation with Professor Flitwick.
Harry looked around. "So…anyone got any ideas?"
"We could make the Slytherins give Mrs. Norris a tongue-bath." Seamus suggested.
Ron made a face. "We have to do whatever it is too, remember?"
"Ugh. Never mind, I take it back."
"What if we made the Ravenclaw girls do a strip show?" Dean piped up.
Parvati Patil glared at him. "My sister is in Ravenclaw."
"I know." He ducked the slap she aimed at him, and grinned. "Besides, our girls would have to do it too. It's a win-win." This time, Partati's slap was accompanied by Lavender Brown's and Hermione's. "What?"
"I'm guessing that's a no, mate." Harry advised him.
"What if we made the Hufflepuffs take extra Potions classes?"
Neville looked horrified. "Anything but that."
"Well—"
Over at the Slytherin table, Blaise Zabini stood up. "Professor Dumbledore? We've got one."
Dumbledore clapped his hands, looking fairly delighted. "Wonderful. Alright, everyone, quiet down." Excited silence fell, and the Headmaster looked back at Blaise. "Well, Mr. Zabini?"
Blaise looked at his Housemates, who grinned and egged him on. He cleared his throat. "We dare the Gryffindor boys to wear the girls' uniform today."
Murmurs, catcalls and "oooooooh"s broke out, and Blaise merely grinned, looking over at Professor Dumbledore. "Are we allowed to dare them to do that, sir?"
"Well, my boy, it's within the rules. Provided, of course, that Slytherin holds up their end."
Blaise smirked. "Of course, sir."
Harry saw Draco Malfoy drop his head into his hands. He grinned, suddenly thinking that it might be worth it to be in drag all day just to see Malfoy in a skirt. He blinked several times, forcing those thoughts out of his head. Bad Harry. Mind off of Malfoy's arse in a skirt. Bad.
Ron poked him in the shoulder. "Er…Harry, mate?"
He blinked again. "Yes?"
"Dumbledore's giving us time before class to go up to the dorms and change. Let's go." Looking a bit confused, Ron followed Harry's gaze over to the Slytherin table. "Well, Malfoy doesn't look so happy."
"Probably a bit annoyed that half the school is going to be ogling his arse in a schoolgirl skirt all day;" Dean commented.
"What's the other half going to be ogling?"
"Kurama's arse in a schoolgirl skirt."
The redhead groaned and buried his head in his arms. "You people live to torment me."
Dean grinned. "Actually…yeah."
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"This is absolutely ridiculous;" Kurama declared half an hour later, when he found himself back in front of the mirror.
"I agree;" Hermione said from her perch on the end of Harry's bed. "We definitely should not have dressed you first."
"Why?" Neville blinked, then added. "And why are you in here?"
"We're here because you're borrowing our clothes." Parvati spoke up.
"And we shouldn't have dressed Kurama first because he's too pretty." Lavender finished. "You guys'll never live up to him."
Studying the blushing redhead, Harry had to agree. Kurama had an almost femininely slim figure already, and the way the girls' button-down shirt and sweater-vest clung to his torso wasn't much of an ego boost as far as Harry was concerned. And on top of that…
Dean had been right when he said people would be looking at Kurama in a skirt. The redhead was tall—far taller than any of the girls in Gryffindor, so the skirt that was just a bit above knee-length for the girls was significantly shorter on him. Hermione had finished off the entire ensemble by twining Kurama's long hair into two braids, tying them off with simple black elastics. Vaguely, Harry was reminded of the kinky schoolgirls he saw in some of the more indecent DVDs in Dudley's collection. Harry cleared his throat, firmly pushing those kinds of thoughts out of his head.
Ron seemed to speak for everyone when he finally sighed and said "Kurama, you're actually a girl, aren't you?"
Kurama glared at him. "Shut. Up."
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Jaganshi Hiei was not a happy fire demon.
It was bad enough that he was being forced to participate in this ridiculous school activity. But the fact that he was in a skirt, in public, was just a bit too much.
How exactly had the rest of his House talked him into this, again?
The door to the Potions dungeon opened, and there was a healthy amount of snickering from the Slytherins as the Gryffindors trooped in. From just behind him, Hiei heard Kurama stifle what sounded suspiciously like a giggle, and turned around to tell him off.
The words died in his throat, and he came to a conclusion: no male should look that attractive in female clothing.
Kurama caught him staring and glared at him as he sat down. "Don't say a word;" he said crossly as he set his books down on the countertop.
"I wasn't going to;" Hiei lied, and tried to concentrate on the other members of the Houses.
None of the Gryffindors looked nearly as pretty as Kurama, Hiei was satisfied to notice. Thomas and Finnegan were too fidgety and kept trying to pull their skirts down further to cover their legs; Longbottom was simply unattractive (period); and Harry's legs were too skinny to be decent in a skirt.
The Slytherins looked just as awkward, save for Blaise Zabini—but then, Hiei suspected him of wearing women's clothing on a regular basis anyway. Draco, sitting next to Blaise, looked decidedly uncomfortable, his face buried in his Potions book.
And for good reason; Hiei mused. Blaise had gone after the blond with an eyeliner pencil again, and Draco looked almost unnaturally pretty.
The Slytherin version of Kurama; Hiei thought, and nearly chuckled in spite of himself.
Kurama glanced at him. "What's so funny?" His eyes were narrowed, and Hiei rolled his eyes. The redhead really had no reason to be self-conscious.
"Nothing." He couldn't resist a slight smirk, though and innocently asked "Who did your hair?"
Kurama cuffed him across the back of the head, glaring. "I hate you."
"No you don't."
A small chuckle. "True that, true that."
The door banged open, then shut, as Professor Snape entered the room. "Today," he said, pointedly avoiding looking at the class and waving his wand towards the blackboard. A piece of chalk levitated up and began scrawling the day's potion on the board. "We will be concocting the—" He turned to face the class and actually faltered mid-sentence, a feat few students had ever seen. His mouth gaped for a moment, and he closed his eyes, waving his wand at the board again. The eraser lifted itself up, erased what the chalk had written thus far, and settled itself back in its place. The chalk began a new potion. "Today;" Snape began again, a terse edge to his voice, "We will be studying basic remedies to stress-induced headaches…"
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Defense Against the Dark Arts that afternoon easily ranked among the top ten most awkward experiences of his human life, Kurama decided.
Being in a skirt was bad. Looking like he had just walked out of a Catholic schoolgirl porno was very bad. But feeling like he was in the middle of a live-action kinky schoolboy horny teacher movie?
This day was really, really starting to suck.
Although, he admitted to himself, the look on Lance's face when he entered the room was certainly gratifying.
After class, Lance pretended to be busy paper-clipping the same test sheets sixteen times while Kurama accidentally-on-purpose dropped his bag, allowing several books and notebooks to fall to the floor. Assuring Harry that oh, he could get it, you go along to Herbology and I'll be right there, he bent to retrieve the fallen items.
When he straightened, arms full of schoolbooks, Lance was leaning against his desk, arms folded over his chest and eyebrows raised. "Holy shit;" he said after several moments of blatant staring, and Kurama couldn't help but laugh.
"Schoolgirl fetish?" he teased lightly, twirling the end of one braid around his index finger after placing his books on his desk.
Lance laughed, holding out a hand to him. Kurama took it, letting the older man pull him in for a deep, heated kiss. "You're fucking gorgeous in a skirt." Lance muttered as they broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against Kurama's.
"Mm-hm. So I've gathered, by the stares I've received today." Kurama winked over his shoulder, replacing his books into his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. "I should get going."
Lance gave him an exaggerated pout, but opened the classroom door. "Tease;" he said sulkily, and Kurama laughed.
"Don't worry, Professor. Tutoring session, tonight at nine?"
The brunette chuckled and nodded, and Kurama could swear that he heard the professor mutter "I think I saw a porno like this once" as the door clicked shut behind him. He smiled, setting off down the hallway.
The door creaked open, and Lance poked his head out. "Minamino;" he called.
Kurama turned. "Yes, Professor?"
Lance gave him a small, secret grin. "Wear the skirt."
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"You;" Ron told Harry accusingly at dinner that night, "were checking out Malfoy."
"I was not." Harry glared at him, shoveling mashed potatoes onto his plate with a little more enthusiasm than usual. Hermione, sitting next to Ron, rolled her eyes and disappeared behind her Arithmancy book. Determined to have the last word, Harry added spontaneously "And besides, I'm not the one talking about all those straight blokes wanting to get it on with members of our House. Something you want to share with the class, mate?"
Hermione's eyebrows shot up and she peered over the top of her book at Ron with a calculating expression. "Are you really, Ron?"
Ron went red to the roots of his hair. "No;" he said forcefully. "I'm not—I never said—fuck;" he concluded, taking a large bite out of a buttered roll.
Harry, feeling quite pleased with himself, happily takes a mouthful of mashed potatoes.
Kurama, ten minutes late, plops down beside him, schoolgirl braids bouncing. "Hi;" he greeted, taking a plate and pulling a bowl of steamed broccoli towards him.
"Hi, back;" Harry said. "Where were you?"
"Library;" the redhead replied immediately, setting the broccoli aside and passing it to Lavender, who had asked for it. He looked up at the ceiling. "It's going to snow later, I think."
"Really?" Harry craned his neck, but the clouds didn't look especially promising to him. "How do you know?"
"Intuition;" Kurama replied, pouring melted cheese over his broccoli and ignoring Ron as the other boy crinkling his nose. "I have a thing for snow."
"Speaking of;" Hermione said suddenly, placing her book aside. "What are you doing over the holidays, Kurama? They're coming up quickly."
"Hiei and I are heading back to Japan;" a surprisingly excited glint flickered into Kurama's eyes. "Or I am, in any case. I know he's staying long enough to visit with his sister, and I don't know how long he'll be there after that, but we're flying back together."
Ron's eyebrows raised. "Flying? On brooms?"
Kurama shook his head. "Plane."
"Like Muggles?" He looked fascinated.
Kurama chuckled, turning back to Hermione. "And you?"
"I'm going home to Cheshire, to visit my mum and dad." She looked as excited as Kurama to be visiting home, glancing at Harry. "What about you, Harry? Do you have any plans?"
Harry shrugged. "None yet. I guess I'll stay—"
"Oh, that's right!" Ron interrupted. "Harry, my mum invited you up for the holidays. For Christmas and New Year's and all."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Way to wait until the last minute, Ron."
Ron gave her his best "sowwy, do you still wuv me?" face, and she snorted, tapping him lightly on the head with her book.
Harry and Kurama exchanged glances, and Harry grinned. "They're so made for each other, aren't they?"
Ron and Hermione made gagging motions, and Kurama and Harry laughed.
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Lance was grinning when he opened his office door for Kurama at nine o'clock that night. "No books tonight, I see?"
"I told Neville that you'd asked me to tell him to schedule study sessions beforehand, so that you'd be better prepared to help him." Kurama tucked a bit of hair behind his ear, having given up on trying to coax it back into its braid. Lance took the end of one braid in one hand, twirling it around his fingers. "It really is a good look for you;" he commented idly. "The whole drag thing, I mean."
Kurama rolled his eyes, tugging his hair back. "Don't count on it becoming a regularity. Have you ever worn a skirt? It's not the most comfortable experience in the world." He wandered around Lance's desk, picking up a small silver orb that turned a bright reddish-pink at his touch. "What is this?"
Lance, watching him, took a seat in his chair, taking Kurama's free hand and pulling him closer. Kurama went with a small smile, settling himself comfortably in Lance's lap, straddling the older man's thighs. Lance settled one hand on the small of Kurama's lap to support him, while his other curved around the wrist that held the orb. "It's sort of like a Muggle mood ring;" he explained. "But more accurate, naturally."
"Oh." Kurama looked interested, studying the color currently floating around the glass confines. "What does this color mean, then?"
Lance grinned, closing his fingers over Kurama's. The color reddened, darkening. "Passion," he said simply.
Kurama smiled, setting the orb down back on the desk. Threading his fingers through Lance's hair, he leaned in for a kiss. Lance's free hand found Kurama's jaw, guiding the redhead's mouth open and teasing his tongue into Kurama's mouth. Kurama's legs tightened around Lance's thighs, eyes fluttering closed as the hand previously resting on his back slipped under his shirt. The rush from the skin-on-skin contact was sudden and sweet, and he let his fingers fall from Lance's hair to his shoulders, clenching in the other man's clothes.
And then, without warning, a rush of dizziness shot through his body. The breath went out of him and Kurama broke the kiss, gasping. He felt shaky and weak, and his fingers trembled where they still held Lance's shirt. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear the stars from his eyes, even as he dimly realized that Lance was calling his name.
"Kurama? Kurama, baby, what happened? Talk to me, baby, what's going on?" There was mounting panic in the other man's voice and Kurama felt himself being scooped into Lance's arms and laid gently on his back on the floor, his head lowered carefully to the ground supported by one strong hand. "Are you alright? Come on, precious, breathe—baby, I'm going to get Madame Pomfrey, don't move—"
"I'm okay;" Kurama finally gasped out, vision slowly clearing. Lance's eyes, wide and blue and utterly scared, swam into his line of vision, and he groped for Lance's hand. It grasped his instantly, larger fingers completely enveloping his slender ones.
"What happened?" Lance asked, voice significantly calmer, though his hand still trembled where it gripped Kurama's.
"I don't know;" he managed, pushing himself shakily onto his elbows. Lance's hand went to his back, gentle support. "I just…I got dizzy. I can't explain it."
"Maybe you should go to the hospital wing—"
"I'm fine;" Kurama's reassuring smile was a bit too weak to be completely convincing, but Lance sighed.
"Alright. But…nothing else tonight, okay?" Settling himself cross-legged on the floor, he leaned against the desk and let Kurama curl up in his arms. "Did you eat today?"
"Mm." Kurama nodded against Lance's shoulder. "I always do. I can't really explain why I'm losing weight like I am."
"Maybe you should go—"
"No."
"Alright, alright." Lance nuzzled Kurama's neck gently, placing a soft kiss against the pale skin there. "What am I going to do without you for two and a half weeks?" He murmured, seemingly half to himself.
Kurama smiled with false sweetness, twining his arms around the other man's neck. "Mucho masturbation?" He suggested.
Muggles had their humor.
Lance gave a quiet laugh, picking up on the reference. He sighed and leaned his head back, glancing up at the window. "Oh;" he said quietly. "Look."
Kurama followed his gaze. A light snowfall was drifting past the window, swirling down in lazy gusts that ensured a healthy powder over the school grounds the next day. Kurama met Lance's eyes, a genuinely sweet smile tugging at his lips. "Kiss me, it's beginning to snow;" he murmured.
Lance smiled, brushed a lock of red hair out of Kurama's face, and obliged.
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Ending Notes: Well, as we all know I'm not allowed to post individual review responses anymore. But I do read them, and I'll reply when I can, so I hope you'll still review.
Notes on the chapter…well, I think I'lljust have to keep apologizing that it took so long! I really am sorry, everyone, and I know that this chapter probably didn't satisfy anyone as far as content goes.Basically, this was the token crack!chapter. The whole "sixth yeardare day" thing was inspired by "senior skip day" at myschool, and I had to work something like this in. So I know nothing important really happened pairing-wise (save for theLance/Kurama), butthe plot will start tothicken soon.(or has it already...?)Really, though, the real plot will start to emerge within the next few chapters, that much I can promise, and the next chapter should be up (hopefully) with much less of a wait than this one has.
Oh, and for those of you who enjoyed my RENT references: rock on. Because RENT? Is teh hot.
Pwnage, n00bs.
Please review, my loves!