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10 April 2011 @ 12:51 am
A long while ago now, I mentioned to queen_of_snapes that I had no writing deadlines for fests or anything of the sort, which I hadn't experienced in a year and was a bit put out of it since it was due to dissertation/work/exams. She gave me a writing assignment due the 8th. I was to write about Minerva McGonagall, Rolanda Hooch and Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank - some sort of romantic triangle. I had to include jealousy.

queen_of_snapes, I finally got something done for you - though it's a day late (two, now that it's gone midnight). I don't think it's as jealous or as sexual-triangle-y as you wanted. It's not really very anything, really, but a bit of filler. But it's writing during a writer's drought, so that's something. 1000 words of nothing during a period of nothing is certainly something!

I'll post it up for you, then, before I tuck into the wine Roberts has offered me. (; (Unbeta'ed. Wrote it tonight and just wanted to post it for Queenie.)

“Rolanda Hooch!” Minerva crowed, hands flying to her hips. Her voice was rapier-sharp. “Assure me you did not just call Wilhelmina—our Willa—a harlot.”

“She’s not our anything,” Rolanda mumbled into her mug as she re-crossed her legs, clearly uncomfortable with her lover’s outburst. “And if a broom’s a broom—”

“If a broom’s a broom, I suppose you expect me to mount it now, don’t you, Rolanda? As if I haven’t authority over my own legs and with whom they spread?” Minerva scoffed and sat on the sofa, spine straight as an arrow as she stared at her companion. “Yes, I simply must sleep with every lesbian in these magical isles, mustn’t I? No counting for control in these parts.”

Rolanda flushed at ‘parts’, eyes widening and narrowing alternately with her rage. “It’s not as though you’ve exercised control with her before!”

Minerva’s eyebrow flew up to her hairline. “If memory serves me right—and I can hardly recall a time it hasn’t—you exercised something other than ‘control’ around her as well.”

“I was 16. Hogwarts wasn’t exactly sprouting Sapphists!” Rolanda responded, enouncing each word carefully and punctuating them with glares. “That was a long time ago—if you recall.”

“Oh, yes, Morgana forbid we show our age, for we’re not sprouting Sapphists now either.” Minerva’s lips pursed into one long white line, and though she held her mug ever closer to her mouth, it never seemed to find its destination before being jerked away again in another show of exasperation. “Wilhelmina is as much my past as she is yours. Or will I have to cover past- and present-tenses with you as I do my first years?”

“Don’t patronise me, Minerva, just because you wear the teacher hat and I’m a lowly instructor”—the words stirred a wince in Minerva, clearly a hard-hitting statement with which she did not agree—“for even I know the grave difference between 16 and 60.”

Minerva deigned no response to the insinuation of rank and at last took a sip from her tea; the quickly-cooling temperature drew a frown. She rechanneled her further annoyance toward Rolanda. “Shall I be concerned about Poppy, then? For—by your logic—I should be actively paranoid about the inevitable occurrence of your leaving me for heart-breaking, bone-mending Poppy.”

Rolanda’s glare narrowed. “As could you.”

“For the—!” Minerva sighed, short and hard, as her elbow bent to deposit a white-knuckled fist onto her hip. “Lesbians may as well be living on a lone island for our scarce separation. Is there any lover we haven’t shared?”

“Augusta Longbottom,” Rolanda muttered, glancing away to the contents of her mug, which was diminishing steadily toward empty and would either prevent further moments of distraction or inspire new opportunities with a refill. She glanced up when she heard Minerva laughing, partially bitter but melting into mirth.

“And that always unsettled you, didn’t it? The one straight woman you couldn’t turn while I could.”

“Until she left you!” Ro growled, slamming her mug on the armchair—and immediately grateful hers was nearly empty. “And it’s only because I haven’t got stockinged legs from my eyebrows to the floor.”

Minerva’s lips quirked; it was the start to the first smile of the evening.

“Well and so,” She murmured, tapping a warming spell to her mug and at last taking a full and enjoyable sip. “Are you through now?”

A knock at the staff-room door captured the attention of both women. Minerva called, “Yes?”

“May I come in?” a gruff voice responded, scarcely lifting with the natural lilt of a question.

“For Merlin’s sake, Willa, we told you that you needn’t knock each and every time!” Minerva flashed her fingers at the door and it flew open to reveal a rather surprised Care of Magical Creatures substitute, mug lifted in one hand and scrolls rolled in the other.

“I—yes, Minerva.”

“Good. Come along in then, before I catch the scent of students; I’ve scared them away for today.” She moved to sit closer to the side of the sofa and in doing so knocked her mug against Rolanda’s on the armchair. Minerva grinned, little and wicked. “Rolanda and I were just speaking of you. Tell me: have you thought of ravishing me lately, like old times? Or perhaps Rolanda? Ro could always do with some ravishing, you see.”

At the first ‘ravishing’, both women heard the distinguishable sound of a mug hitting the counter just too hard, as if dropped from a higher height than intended. The next silence was long and heavy enough to be loud.

Willa’s voice was amused when at last they heard it. “Thought I saw the red splashes of cooling anger and consequential crudeness on your cheeks, Min. Happy Friday.”

“Is that a yes?” Minerva questioned lightly, as close to sing-song as she was ever likely to be.

“Oh, do leave her alone, Min!” Ro expressed at last, flicking her fingers across Minerva’s. “She’s had the Slytherins today—give her a break.”

A smug smile ghosted over Minerva’s features as she lifted her fingers into the air, all innocence and virtue. The smile was easy enough to read: Haven’t I been saying just that for the last hour?

Rolanda sighed and tipped her forehead into her fingertips; Minerva was a nightmare upon discovering she was right against another’s obvious wrongness.

Willa snuck the teapot between the two and refilled the woman’s nigh-empty mug; when she stood, an unreadable smile was smooth across her lips. “Might say you both could do with some ravishing.”

At the statement, both women jerked up to see a wink flash on Willa’s face. She turned and headed back for the kitchen, teapot in hand.

“If memories haven’t gone misty on me, you two were somethin’. Together you’ve legs and torso enough to drive a woman off balance. Wouldn’t you say?” She gazed over her shoulder at them as she posed the final question, grin quirked and sleeve rolled up snug under her deltoid, revealing a strapping shoulder and beautifully defined muscles.

Minerva swallowed and masked it behind her tea; Rolanda stared and forced her sight to stray. After it had touched on nearly everything else in the room, it drifted up to Minerva’s face just as her gaze left the rippling tea in her mug.

“I was thinking you should tutor me on past-and-present-tense, Min,” Rolanda commented after a pronounced clearing of her throat. “Perhaps we could pull a Poppy…”

“Talking code again,” Willa remarked as she sat herself down on the sofa, cradling her tea. “What’s she on about, Min?”

Minerva wondered if tea-cradling strictly required so much arm-bulging, but she couldn’t help appreciating the musculature only mythical creatures could create in a person. She rested her fingers on Rolanda’s and offered a full smile as she looked to Wilhelmina, old friend and lover that she was.

“I believe Ro and I have had an idea—a proposal, if you will.”

“I will,” Wilhelmina responded immediately, without requiring clarification.

“Ravishing,” Rolanda concluded, grinning her toothiest grin.

Wilhelmina had the arms to finish the set.

Kiwi of the crooked smile toasts you.
Here is a crooked Kiwi smile for you! That is Roberts' wine in a glass that once held a candle. I'm watching Battlestar Galactica. Any time I find a new couple I like, I simply holler "SHIP!" It's great fun. Now I have started exclaiming "USTeeeeeee!"

I should be revising. But, Saturday night. But, wine. But, Minerva McGonagall, Rolanda Hooch and Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank. But, Rosethorn and Lark. But but but...

Tomorrow. As alway: tomorrow!


"It was the rainbow gave thee birth, and left thee all her lovely hues."
[W. H. Davies]
Current Mood: rejuvenatedRejuvenated.
therealsnapetherealsnape on April 10th, 2011 06:40 pm (UTC)
Adorable, my dear. And with lots of lovely lines.

“If memory serves me right—and I can hardly recall a time it hasn’t perfectly IC.

“And it’s only because I haven’t got stockinged legs from my eyebrows to the floor.” While Augusta has? I must devote my attention to Augusta one of these days.

both women heard the distinguishable sound of a mug hitting the counter just too hard, as if dropped from a higher height than intended. Great description. And I love the way Willa rises to the occasion.
Kiwi Crocus: Text || Refuse to take life seriously.cranky__crocus on April 10th, 2011 06:45 pm (UTC)
Thank you. Glad you found a few lines to like in this random mess! (:

I was thinking more Minerva with the eyebrow-high legs but, you know, I wouldn't be entirely surprised to find Augusta with some nice long legs... Neville did turn out pretty tall and leggy in the end.

Pleased you liked that line - out of all of them, I probably put some effort into crafting that one.

Ah, this is such a ridiculous fic! Hah. If it wasn't written to prove I didn't entirely fail queen_of_snapes I'm sure I wouldn't have posted it. :Þ
Meganluna_shovegood on April 10th, 2011 06:52 pm (UTC)
Ah. Wine. *tuts*

But, fic. XD

“Perhaps we could pull a Poppy…”

Jealousy... it even has lousy in it.
Kiwi Crocus: Text || Ambiguity.cranky__crocus on April 10th, 2011 06:55 pm (UTC)
I am legal in both my citizen countries, thank-you-very-much! :Þ Plus, I just had that glass; I'm not much of a drinker.

I'm not a huge fan of 'jealousy' and don't experience it much in my life, so it doesn't end up in my fics very often (while it seems to crop up in the writing of many others). I think people expect it more, so sometimes I try...

I just fail. :B
Meganluna_shovegood on April 10th, 2011 06:59 pm (UTC)
Mmmhmmm. It isn't exactly difficult to be legal in England. :P
Drinking is icky, though. :D

But, failing at jealousy is a good thing?
Kiwi Crocus: Rainbow || Ecstatic Elmo.cranky__crocus on April 10th, 2011 07:04 pm (UTC)
No, perhaps not, but in America it's a bit trickier. (: And for the most part I agree with you - drinking is icky! (Shhh, don't tell Roberts, but I'm not much a fan of wine; I usually join others in drinking it more for the bonding than the drink itself...and I sip slowly. :B)

I would say failing at jealousy in real life could certainly be a good thing (though some partners seem to find it attractive in small doses). For writing, I'm not sure - people seem to expect some jealousy, and there are certainly characters out there that get jealous in canon. Not being able to write that and thus capture the full extent of their character can be a bit of a downfall!

Thankfully I never noticed a reference to any real semblance of jealousy for the HP professors and my other (well, only) OTP (from another series) is polyamorous, so for now it all works out. :D
Meganluna_shovegood on April 10th, 2011 08:37 pm (UTC)
I like the taste of most alcohol; I just don't like the affect it has on me. I shalln't tell Roberts, whoever s/he is. Your secret is safe... for now... *cackle*

Well, I suppose they might. I'm not good at writing any emotion. Heh. And I don't pick up on much of it in fic unless it's outrightly stated. *shrug* But, I would imagine that being able to write it would be useful.

Downfall just makes me think of LotS and people falling down. It's a nice mental image (mental .gif?).

What's your other OTP?
President Airlock: fangirlqueen_of_snapes on April 10th, 2011 08:45 pm (UTC)
I love you, you know? Seriously. *wipes tears away* You're awesome.

Just this morning I was thinking about the 8th April deadline and how I hadn't harrassed you nearly as much as I'd planned to do, and now look what you got me!

This is a fantastic story, I don't care what you say about it! It's a great conversation with a perfect ending. And you wrote it for me, which makes me feel so special!

Yes, I simply must sleep with every lesbian in these magical isles, mustn’t I? No counting for control in these parts.”
I can so hear Min say this!

“And it’s only because I haven’t got stockinged legs from my eyebrows to the floor.”
Again, very believable...

*offers some cake to Snape who feels a little left out*
Kiwi Crocus: HP || To Hogwarts!cranky__crocus on April 10th, 2011 08:54 pm (UTC)
I do now! And I love you too. (:

You harassed me enough - I hope I told you I don't need much. (; (Guilt generally drives the rest, hah hah.)

I'm so glad you like it! I had ridiculous amounts of fun writing up that conversation. I did write it for you. :D That made me happy!

And relieved to hear you found Minerva's voice in some of it! (She certainly does seem to be made up of mostly leg. [; )

Awwr, poor Snape. To him I say: don't be a drag, just be a queen.
President Airlock: Glee!queen_of_snapes on April 11th, 2011 08:03 am (UTC)
My mother always says about long-legged people that they have 'legs all the way to the floor', but I think I might add the eyebrows as starting point for those legs!

I'm glad you had fun writing the conversation, that's what it's all about! ♥
CaroRulescarorules on April 11th, 2011 06:42 pm (UTC)
Wicked cool pic of you! Love that smile.. and wine! :)