rockefeller.

nargles @ 2012-11-10T18:25:00

2012-11-10T21:25:40Z

“It’s your turn,” Miles insisted in their bedroom, which had exploded for the nineteenth time with screams from the nursery. Never mind that Felicity had gotten up a total of sixteen times and Miles just twice – he needed his rest. After all, he ran a business. It was Felicity’s job to calm the baby, since that was her job while he was away. Perhaps night time made him a little crankier than usual, and perhaps he would have been more concerned for Felicity if he had been more awake, but his rest was of the utmost importance, and this child was ruining it all for him.

Felicity groaned into her pillow, quickly regretting their decision to have a baby. Why had they? It was Miles’s idea, and she thought that it was his responsibility to take care of his ideas. Perhaps, though, if she’d had more sleep, she would have felt much differently.

Still, Felicity crawled out of bed and into the spare den-turned-nursery, cooing soft hushes to her princess. She pulled Georgie out of her crib, holding her to her breast and whispering calming tones into her ear.

Miles, on the other hand, had grown impatient in his bed waiting for his wife to get back, unable to fall asleep without her with him. He sprang up and came to her, taking Georgie from her and gently rocking her. Felicity stared on, admiring the scene before her.

Never once had Felicity imagined that Miles and she would have a child like this and be so happy like this with one. Although it had been a loud addition to the penthouse, an unrestful addition to the penthouse, she never regretted it. Not even when she woke both of them up constantly and ruined all prospects of sleep. Not when she looked so calm or so lovely like this.

Miles put her back in Felicity’s hands, explaining that he thought she may need a feeding, and Felicity pulled Georgie back to her breast, pulling herself from her nightie and letting her daughter feed. She looked back up at Miles, who was looking with such admiration at his daughter, something that Felicity had never thought Miles was capable with the exception of his own wife.

Miles caught Felicity’s eye, matching her calm expression, carefully pulling her in as not to disturb Georgie, his hands slipping to her rear. “I love you,” she whispered, and he automatically replied, leaving a kiss on her lips once his words had flowed from his.

After a few moments of silence, regarding Georgie, her brown curls and her green-blue eyes, Miles murmured, “Kitten.” Felicity looked up, catching his eyes that matched their daughter’s. “She’s asleep.” Felicity nodded, carefully placing Georgie back in her crib before kissing her forehead, admiring her a few moments with Miles before creeping out of the room, back into their warm bed.

“Next time, it’s your turn,” Felicity teased, though there was no such thing. Georgie slept through the rest of the night, never stirring, leaving Miles and Felicity to fall asleep in relief in each other’s arms.

nargles @ 2012-11-03T00:58:00

2012-11-03T03:48:07Z

“Sweet girl,” Augustine whispered into her daughter’s ear, who had turned sixteen just a few days ago. It was time for her to find someone; it was time for her to marry. Augustine swore it to be so. Her daughter was the most glamorous girl in all of the United Kingdom, and if she could not find a proper suitor, then Augustine would have been very cross. It was impossible. Her sweet girl, her clever girl was so perfect, in every single way. She made sure of it.

She made absolutely sure, even as she stripped her daughter of her clothing, making sure that every mark on her skin was absolutely flawless. Felicity stood in front of her mother, naked as the day she was born, her arms covering her breasts shyly. Augustine tore Felicity’s fingers from her skin, leaving her entirely exposed to her mother, who stared at her so very eagerly, taking in every detail of her sweet girl.

“Don’t hide from me, my girl. We must make sure you look perfect for Mr. Greengrass tomorrow night. He may not see you this way tomorrow, but there could be wedding bells in your future, sweet girl.” Augustine stared at Felicity, impressed with her looks, trying to show Felicity that it was good to be excited. She would be a wonderful housewife, if Augustine had anything to do with it.

Augustine’s eyes suddenly snapped down to Felicity’s foot, unexpectedly. “What’s that?” she asked, her tone laced with poisonous anger.

“Mother, it’s – it’s nothing, Mother,” Felicity fussed, trying to cover up her exposed ankle, which bore some sort of lizard that Augustine did not care to think of.

“When did you get this?” she asked, her calm expression truly frightening Felicity.

“It was just a fun thing, Mother – just a few girls at school –“ she tried to explain, though Augustine quickly cut her off, taking her foot in her hands as she bent down to examine it. She shook her head with disgust and pulled out her wand, ripping the ink from her perfect daughter’s skin. Felicity cried in anguish, the ink inside of her skin slowly seeping from her foot. It felt as if she was bleeding, without any actual blood. Within ten seconds, the tattoo vanished, the only trace was ink on the floor.

“It’s all better, my sweet girl,” Augustine whispered, kissing her daughter’s ankle before standing up again and examining her. “You’re just as perfect now as you were before that awful mark. Now, you are marked by nothing.”

Felicity felt her eyes welling up with tears, but she could not cry when her mother was so adamant. Not when she was sure that not having this tattoo would make her the perfect housewife. Not when she was so sure that avoiding the Dark Arts would make her more appealing to men, make her look less intelligent and more of a pawn. Felicity knew that this was her duty in life, and she was to carry it out, but she simply wanted to be a child for just a little longer.

“Sweet girl,” Augustine whispered, fawning over her dear girl as the ink oozed onto the floor.

nargles @ 2012-04-09T23:00:00

2012-04-10T02:08:18Z

Alecto slowly wiped the blood off her mouth with the back of her hand, reveling in the warm, silky feeling of the pureblood traitor’s blood in her mouth, on her hands, soaking into her taste buds. Perhaps she hadn’t given him a fair trial, but she was thirsty for blood, and she couldn’t go back now. There was no turning back after she’d caught him: it was already far, far too late to change her mind about this disgraceful man.

After it was over, Alecto turned unhurriedly around, though her eyes met Rabastan's almost instantly. Eyes wide and innocent-looking, this was a stark contrast to the beast that had been freed from a cage, which Rabastan had just witnessed. With heavy feet, Alecto walked towards Rabastan, only stopping when she was inches away from his face. Slowly, she touched the cheek with the back of her hand, exploring the smooth skin, occasionally marred by stubble.

The pace seemed almost unbearable to Rabastan, and in one quick move, he caught Alecto's lips with his. Rabastan beckoned her to him, wrapping his arms possessively around her waist, dipping his hand just below the small of her back. It had been far too long that he'd wanted this to happen, and he wasn't about to let her get away as quickly as it had started. Her lips tasted like rose and salt and blood, and he simply couldn't get enough of it. What was supposed to scare Rabastan away made him want to keep her there forever, under his possessive grasp.

Alecto fought to get to the top, as Rabastan expected she would, but he simply shoved her into the alley wall, a rotting corpse at their feet. That kiss made Rabastan crave even more of her - even more of her skin, more of that exquisite taste, more blood. Rabastan decided, at that moment, that there would have to be so much more fucking blood.

nargles @ 2011-05-12T23:03:00

2011-05-13T02:37:14Z

Okay, so maybe Sarah had promised Basil that she wouldn’t go out alone to prank anymore. And maybe Sarah also promised that she wouldn’t prank with anyone else other than Basil because they were designated prank buddies until death. It was the only commitment she felt like making, besides calling herself his ‘girlfriend.’ It was a big step for her to admit even that, so she called it progress.

But maybe Sarah got bored when Basil was off doing his Prefect duties. Really, when did Sarah ever listen to the rules? She was going to do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted - no matter the consequences.

Basil was going to be so mad at her, she knew the moment she stepped into the Potions classroom to set off a dungbomb - to go off the next day during the Slytherin-Hufflepuff 6th year class. It wasn’t that she held a vendetta against Slytherin or Hufflepuff 6th years - it was that soon, these guys were going to be the heads of the school, and Sarah didn’t want to make their heads swell too fast at that fact. Dungbombs brought them back down to earth. Or something like that. Okay, so maybe she just felt like causing unnecessary trouble, but when did she ever need an excuse before?

Setting a time-freeze spell to the dungbomb (thanks to Basil for that one), Sarah waltzed casually out of the Potions room... only to find her boyfriend standing right in front of her, eyes wide with surprise. “Darling, I--” “What on earth are you doing out of bed, Mullet?” he interrupted her, and Sarah was immediately taken aback. That is, until she finally realized who was standing just ten feet away, staring between the two of them. Sarah’s eyes widened in recognition. Filch.

“I was just--” she started, but Basil interrupted her again. “You were just what? Mucking about in the Potions classroom? Waiting for a bloke to come with his white potion? Don’t think I don’t know about you, Mullet; I am a teenager, just like you.” If the situation hadn’t been serious, Sarah would have burst out laughing. In fact, her lips were twitching upwards just as Basil gave her another warning look, though she could see the laughter in his eyes.

“I didn’t--” she tried to speak again, but Basil just kept talking over her. “All right, all right, I think I’ve heard enough. It seems to me like our dear Sarah needs a good whipping.” While Filch muttered some sort of agreement, Sarah’s lips twitched even further upwards. Oh, he was terrible. Basil continued, his eyes grazing over her body carefully as he spoke. “Thirty lashes, I think.” He paused, just long enough to look into her eyes. “Very hard, and very firm.” Looking back at Filch, he told him, “Don’t argue, Mr. Filch! The girl deserves a punishment for the horrible things she’s done. She’s been a very, very naughty girl.”

Discreetly, Basil glanced back at Sarah - she could have sworn she saw him winking at her. Under his breath, just so that Sarah could hear, Basil murmured, “Or perhaps a spanking would be more appropriate.” At that, Sarah covered her mouth, trying to look shocked while really stifling a giggle.

As punishment, Basil reached forward and latched onto her arm, fingers “accidentally” grazing across her chest as he reached. “You bad girl, don’t speak or else your punishment will be worse! Just wait until you hear all of the awful things I’m going to have to do to you as punishment.” While Filch and Sarah both liked his enthusiasm - albeit for different reasons - Basil was toeing the line, and he knew it.

Looking back to Filch, Basil called, “I think I can handle this one myself. I believe I heard a few students down the hall; you may want to check that out while I see to it that Miss Mullet gets what she deserves. Justice will prevail tonight!”

Satisfied, Basil took Sarah by the arm, giving her a bright smirk. Filch had bought all of that. It was a wonder all of that had worked; he didn’t even know how it happened. He was amazing, obviously, and that was all there was to it.

Once the two were out of earshot, heading towards Ravenclaw Tower, Basil shoved Sarah into an empty classroom without any warning, shutting the door behind them and locking it. “My, my, I suppose it’s time for your punishment, young lady,” he told her sagely, as if it were a real punishment. If Sarah hadn’t known better, she might have even been a little worried. But this was Basil, and of course he wasn’t being serious.

“Punish me if you must, then,” Sarah obliged, feeling like she’d just said the first thing to him all night. Smirking, she held out her wrists to him, as if he were going to cuff them. Basil scoffed at the scene in front of him, latching onto her wrists and leaning in close to kiss her before whispering, “What a naughty girl you’ve been.”

nargles @ 2011-01-12T21:44:00

2011-01-13T02:27:49Z

The sight in front of Basil was actually really quite unbelievable. Sure, he’d seen girls half naked before. Christ, he’d seen them fully naked. But Sarah Mullet? Yeah. He’d never seen her naked before.

Not that she was even naked right now. Actually, she was far from it, but Basil could already imagine it, especially with the way her clothes were starting to come off with rapidity in their spontaneous decision to play strip poker. Er, strip go-fish. Sarah actually didn’t know how to play poker – her parents called muggle card games “indecent,” and go-fish was much easier for Basil to explain. Nevertheless, there she sat, sweater, blouse and tank top already tossed on the floor beside her. Her shoes had been the first to go, then her socks… and then what Basil considered the real clothes.

Sarah hadn’t really expected to lose so many clothes so fast, but she didn’t really understand the full concept of the game. Therefore, every time she would ask for a certain card (“go fish!” with a wry grin, he would say), she would find herself losing more and more clothes. Not that she really minded. Sarah had been naked in front of boys before. Just not… Basil.

Basil had already lost a shirt and his shoes and socks – he’d lost less than Sarah, yet girls had so many bloody clothes, and they were practically even. Almost. Out of pure instinct, he licked his lower lip, his stare lowering slightly as she looked down at her cards to ponder her next move.

“Do you have any… twos?” she asked, maybe just a little bit nervously.

Basil didn’t even bother to check the stack of cards in his hands – he didn’t sodding care. “Go fish,” he prodded, finding her question slightly ironic and smirking ruthlessly as she undid the clasp to her bra and tugged the straps off her arms. Basil was pretty sure that he didn’t really even care about the game anymore. Not with her in front of him, wide-eyed and half naked. He swore that he saw her blush under his gaze.

A tugging sensation in his heart told him to just quit the game, climb over the table, and just take her right there, but he ignored it for the time being. “Any eights?” he asked. “Go fish,” she murmured, watching without shame as he unbuttoned his jeans, pulling them down and stepping out of them.

“Five?” she asked almost immediately, coming out as a breath. “Go fish,” he answered, pretty sure that he would explode if he saw her take off her jeans. She wriggled quickly out of them, and Basil just couldn’t help it. He lunged forward, over the table, their game spilling all over the place in an eclectic mess. Claiming her lips with his, Basil let his hands trail where he’d never let them before, kicking the table out of the way so that he could pull her close and never let her get away.

Thank Merlin he’d locked the door to the Prefect’s Lounge, Basil suddenly thought, pulling away so that he could push her down to lay on the couch and following her down. Almost sardonically, Basil asked, “Have any jokers, love?”

“Go fish,” she told him confidently, grinning against his lips as she felt his fingers hooking into her knickers.

nargles @ 2010-11-21T12:25:00

2010-11-21T17:12:35Z

Basil kept a close eye on Sarah, very aware of the fact that they could get in humongous trouble for this if they weren’t careful. As she leaned closer to the shelf to grab the next Potions ingredient, Basil watched wearily. Sarah handed it off to him, who quickly brought it over to the other side of the room, onto the opposite shelf. Reversing the alphabetized potions closet was far from an extravagant prank – in fact, it was just plain mean, but both of them found it extremely funny.

Basil watched as she carefully grabbed for the next one, smiling faintly when he noticed her humming something under her breath. It wasn’t until she got slightly louder that Basil realized what she was actually singing.

“What the feck are you singing that for?” he asked, bewildered.

Sarah looked back at him and grinned. “What? You don’t like my voice?” she asked. “Am I not good enough for your musical ear?”

He shook his head. “No, I’m just wondering why the hell you’ve just decided to start singing Aretha Franklin. What a horrible song!”

She shrugged. “I thought it was appropriate,” she mentioned with a slight laugh.

They went back to work, the hums ceasing until Sarah simply couldn’t help it anymore and started humming again, louder this time.

“Sarah…” Basil started warningly, but it was no use. She only started humming louder. He sighed in annoyance and rolled his eyes, taking the next ingredients over to the opposite shelf.

And then she started full-out singing.

“You make me feel!” she exclaimed, pumping a fist to the air. Basil just gawked at her. “You MAAAAAKE me feel! You make meeee---“

She broke off as Basil promptly put his hand over her mouth, simply unable to take it anymore. Sarah stayed stubborn, however, and hummed louder against his hand. Basil scowled and pressed his hand further to her mouth.

And then she did what he absolutely did not expect – she licked his hand, which made him snatch his hand back in surprise.

Without a second thought, Sarah suddenly turned into a pop star, holding an imaginary microphone to her lips and launching into a chorus.

“YOU MAKE ME FEEL…. YOU MAAAAAAAAAKE ME FEEL! YOUUUUU MAKE MEEEE FEEEEL LIIIIIKE AAAAA NAAAAAAAATURALLLLLLL…. woooooMAAAAAAAAAAN…… woman!”

Basil glared at her. “Oh, shut up! You’re ridiculous! You’re giving me a headache, you awful girl.”

Sarah stuck out her tongue. “Make me!”

Just as she was about to launch into another chorus, Basil reached forward and kissed her hard on the lips, quickly stopping her from doing anything else. His arms closed around her waist, simply not letting her escape. Instead of singing, Sarah let out a surprised moan, slinging her arms around his neck.

Basil could only smirk and pull away, taunting her. “Now, that’s more like it, Aretha,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to her lips.

nargles @ 2010-11-21T12:25:00

2010-11-21T17:12:15Z

“I don’t want anything serious.”

She’d said it over and over. She didn’t want anything serious. She didn’t want to commit. She didn’t want love. She just wanted a bit of fun.

Every time she said it, Basil would just roll his eyes. “You know I’m not like that, Darling.” It always happened the same way.

And every time, Sarah would respond, “I know.” She would tell herself that it was silly and stupid that she would ever have to tell him that, but somewhere in the pit of her stomach, Sarah knew that he was trouble. Sarah knew that if she wanted to, she could start something really serious – only to realize when it was too late.

~

He pinned her against the wall, trapping her so that she couldn’t even think about moving. If Basil had his way, he would keep her there forever, kissing her like he’d never be able to kiss her again. It would be a lie to say that he wouldn’t mind her staying forever, but neither of them wanted to commit.

Lips pressed together, they were a clash of teeth and tongues. There was always a brief moment where neither of them knew which part belonged to whom – they were one, just for a few solid seconds, and neither of them wanted to admit it.

Neither of them was allowed to admit it.

Sarah broke apart with a soft moan, whispering, “Nothing serious.” It was a constant reminder, and it wasn’t just for Basil.

~

On Valentine’s Day, Basil surprised Sarah with tickets to a Holyhead Harpies-Wimbourne Wasps match. She wasn’t a flowers-and-candy type of girl, after all. Basil knew that about her. Basil knew a lot of things about Sarah. And sometimes, that pulled at Sarah’s heartstrings.

Sarah forbid herself to think about how he could tug at her heart in the most ridiculous of ways – after all, they were nothing serious, and she didn’t want anything more than a casual shag every so often. Valentine’s Day was just a nice perk.

When they went to the match that night, Sarah watched excitedly, squeezing Basil’s hand every time the Harpies scored. It was just a celebratory gesture. She swore, she meant absolutely nothing by it.

She meant absolutely nothing by it, even as he backed her into a classroom door after the match, kissing each other like it was absurd to even think of kissing anyone else.

It was nothing serious.

Sarah fumbled with the doorknob, stumbling backward when it finally opened, never letting him break the kiss. She tugged on his collar until her thighs hit the teachers’ desk. Leaning back until she was laying on her back, Basil followed quietly, both of them pushing off any of the teaching supplies in their midst.

Tugging her shirt up and off, Sarah convinced herself that this was nothing serious in the slightest. Not even when she breathed heavily, murmuring his name when she felt his teeth at her collarbone.

Once they had finished, Sarah sucked in a deep breath, keeping his head tucked against her chest.

He could feel her heart beating under his ear, and Basil tried to convince himself – it was nothing serious. He wondered if she was thinking the same thing, and if it broke her heart as much as it broke his.

~

After stealing the entire supply of cookies from the kitchens and stowing it away in the perfect hiding spot, Sarah decided that she wasn’t tired enough to go to bed. She was never tired enough to go to bed – most of the time, Basil would have to force her to go sleep so that she wouldn’t die in her classes the next day.

This time, though, Basil wanted to stay with her. They sat against a wall in the third floor corridor, the sun starting to rise over the horizon.

They talked about nothing and everything for an hour. Basil sighed as he looked over at her, the morning sunlight hitting her pale skin. He bit his lip as she looked at the floor and pushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“Sarah?” he asked quietly, a serious look suddenly appearing on his face.

Sarah caught his eye and couldn’t look away. Her cheeks colored the slightest bit when she realized that they were both staring at each other without any shame at all. She convinced herself over and over that he wasn’t anything serious, that this wasn’t serious.

They watched each other silently, knowing exactly what the other was thinking – this was a new addiction. This was their whole life.

This was too serious to stop.

nargles @ 2010-11-21T12:25:00

2010-11-21T17:11:53Z

Sarah has a permanent flat rented out for her at the Leaky Cauldron, but it might as well be a vacant room. The maid doesn’t bother cleaning it anymore – after all, Sarah is the one of the only members of the Holyhead Harpies who doesn’t stay at the Leaky Cauldron suite reserved for them. It’s not because she doesn’t like her suite. It’s not because she doesn’t love her team members. She does. She just isn’t comfortable in her hotel room. She doesn’t want to live out of a suitcase. She wants something that is stable in her life.

Instead of going back to the Leaky Cauldron, Sarah pulls up the covers to Basil Bristow’s bed and then climbs in, no explanation needed. She still gets a kick out of the little groan of awakening, but it’s always followed by a soft little sigh, an arm slung around her hips.

When she wakes up in the morning, they get breakfast in a diner a few blocks away. Every morning, they do this – except Sundays, when they are forced to starve until the next meal, complaining loudly about the complexities that are Sundays. Basil always gets up to fix breakfast on Sundays because Sarah claims she can’t cook. She can’t cook for shite – she’s a Holyhead Harpy, for Merlin’s sake. The broads on her team were tougher than any bloke she knew, and Sarah was definitely included in that. She couldn’t be bothered with things like cooking or sewing or being domestic.

Not that Basil was a housewife – never once had he claimed to be. In fact, Basil usually teased Sarah and told her that she should cook and clean and be a good wife. They weren’t even married, but he reminded her that one day, she would have to face the facts and bear his children to carry on the family name.

Needless to say, Sarah would elbow him in the side and tell him to shut it.

Sarah wakes up with her head nestled comfortably into his chest, naked and exhausted from a successful match. (A successful night.)

The floor is cold and creaky under her feet as she tiptoes across the bedroom to pull on one of his shirts. She hears church bells in the distance, the hint of morning spreading across the whole of London. Her stomach growls persistently, and Sarah knows that she can’t eat. It’s Sunday. Nothing is open except for ice cream shops, and ice cream is not a viable option for breakfast. (At least, not this morning.)

Basil looks calm, and Sarah doesn’t have the heart to wake him to make breakfast, even though she knows that she won’t be able to by herself. She doesn’t know how. She’s never been taught. Sarah’s mother taught her to have things done for her – not to cook or clean or be a maid. After all, Sarah was a House Elf-raised baby.

Sarah stands awkwardly in the kitchen, staring at the pots and pans with a confused look on her face. The icebox in front of her looks daunting. Unforgiving. She has no idea what to do with all of these things.

She gets out a pan and then a few eggs. She thinks she remembers what’s in an omelet as she cracks a couple of eggs into a bowl and stirs briskly. She even manages to chop up a few vegetables, while she’s at it – though she uses magic for that because she quite honestly doesn’t trust herself with a knife.

Pouring egg into a pan, Sarah watches as it starts to cook, staring at it awkwardly when it starts to set and stirs it around with mild confusion. Is this what people do? Is this how people live? Sarah never had to do this before – she always had Hogwarts or a House Elf or a diner to do everything for her. And now? She was doing it all by herself.

Suddenly, Sarah went sprinting into the bedroom and jumping on the bed, trying to wake Basil up. “OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD!” she squeals, and Basil watches her grumpily as he is waken up.

“I cooked!” she exclaims, and Basil grumbles that she better have, as she WOKE HIM UP on a perfectly good Sunday morning that he could have wasted away by sleeping. He’s a good sport, though, and follows her into the kitchen, where the world’s messiest omelet greets him on a plate. He looks at her and then back at the plate.

He looks at her again, and a grin appears on his face.

“You’re such a good pureblood wife, Darling,” he teases.

They share the plate of eggs, since Sarah couldn’t be bothered to make another plate, and Basil quickly decides that he could spend every Sunday eating a pile of unattractive eggs with Sarah Mullet.

nargles @ 2010-11-21T12:24:00

2010-11-21T17:11:10Z

A DARLINGS FANMIX.

invent it all again - faded paper figures

i'll remake my works of art
i'll reward your restless heart

true or false - bishop allen

put your coat on the floor
leave your shoes by the door
take a seat
take some tea
stay with me tonight

take a step back - acute

now that everything's broken,
we can start again.

this boy - franz ferdinand

this boy's so spectacular
not a boy, but a wealthy bachelor

bang a gong (get it on) - marc bolen & t-rex

you're dirty, sweet and you're my girl.

peaches & cream - beck

don't tell your right hand baby
what your left hand do

anarchy in the uk - sex pistols

don't know what i want,
but i know how to get it
i wanna destroy the passer by
because i wanna be anarchy

we all know - devendra banhart

like the type of tongue that roots from your breast
and it shakes your pretty, little clavicle

nargles @ 2010-11-21T12:23:00

2010-11-21T17:10:42Z

There’s a calmness in the air that Sarah rarely notices, but when she does, she can’t help but immerse herself in it. When she does notice, Sarah never lets it slip between her grasp. She may be an insomniac, afraid of staying in her quiet dormitory all night, and too cool to take herself seriously, but she notices the finer details in life when she’s not preoccupied with all of the weird shit that she does.

After she got an owl from her mum, Sarah decided to skip pranks tonight. She told Basil that she wasn’t in the mood, that she just wanted to sleep.

What she didn’t tell Basil was the news that the letter held.

After years of dodging the inevitable, Sarah got the news: it was time to grow up. She was to be married to Cornelius Rosier, a snobby Pureblood boy that was wealthier than all of the Weird Sisters put together. She finally had the chance to make her parents happy and end up in the life that was destined for her.

The problem was, Sarah never believed in destiny. She believed in the small things, like fleeting feelings, moments to hold forever, and the fun in life. That’s all she ever wanted to think about. Cornelius surely wouldn’t understand that – not with his 800 Galleon designer dress robes or his Firebolt 5000.

Cornelius wouldn’t understand that Sarah was going to be the next Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies. Cornelius wouldn’t understand that Sarah just wanted to have fun with her life. Cornelius wouldn’t understand that Sarah just wasn’t that type of girl.

She hadn’t even met sodding Cornelius, and that much, she knew for sure.

The calm still had not passed when Sarah opened the doors to the Entrance Hall, walking outside. She didn’t care if anyone saw her leaving the castle. She needed a moment.

--

Basil knew something wasn’t right. Sarah refused to prank with him, and while he completely understood that she needed a night off to catch up on sleep, he highly doubted that she actually needed to sleep.

It wasn’t the way she said it or the lame excuse she made; it was the look in her eyes when she said it. That look wasn’t his Sarah.

It floored him even more when he spotted her after he split up with Ethan for Prefect Runs, knowing that it would just cause more of a headache than anything else to stay with him. When he saw her walking out of the Entrance Hall, Basil was about to say something, but the serious look on her face made him keep his mouth shut.

He didn’t know why, but suddenly, he was following her to the Lake, hiding behind bushes and tiptoeing behind her, not making a single sound.

--

It was one month away from graduation. After graduation, she was to be married to sodding Cornelius and then have his sodding babies and be a sodding good Pureblood wife. Sarah didn’t want any of it. She just wanted to be free.

Once she had reached the Lake, Sarah stopped just as the dirt started to turn to mud. Carefully, she leaned down to take off her shoes, and then her socks. Sarah set them aside, leaving them behind in the grassy lawn and taking a step into the mud, smiling slightly when the mud squished between her toes.

She didn’t need to worry about Cornelius or her mother or her father here. She was safe.

No one was watching. No one was judging her. No one was aware of her sudden seriousness, her sudden fragility.

--

Basil stood in the bushes, about ten feet away from Sarah. He watched her with a confused expression, oblivious to what she was feeling. Not knowing what she was thinking. He hated that he couldn’t help her, and he knew that she wouldn’t tell him what was wrong, even if he asked. But that was Sarah, and when she was serious, she didn’t want to be around him, or anyone else.

He pushed his hands into his pockets, watching her as she toed out of her shoes. If he couldn’t help her, he could at least look after her.

--

Shutting her eyes tight, Sarah just breathed in the outside air, trying to forget about everything. Trying to forget that she even existed.

She didn’t exist. Not now. Not at one in the morning, when she was completely alone.

Without a second thought – without even glancing around – Sarah put both hands on either side of her t-shirt, sliding it up her torso and off her body. It dropped next to her shoes. Slowly, she undid the button of her jeans and slid those off of her legs, too. Shivering in the still-cool May air, Sarah reached for the clasp on the back of her bra, easily unhooking it and sliding it off her arms.

She took one step closer to the water, which swallowed her feet, tickling her ankles with its cold, watery fingers.

Sarah gasped when she felt real, human fingers take a gentle hold on her hips from behind, not expecting anyone to follow. The thing was, though, she knew that if anyone would follow, it would be him. Not bloody Ethan Troy or anyone else. It was always Basil.

He started to say something, and Sarah shook her head, quieting his words with just that. She didn’t want to speak. She didn’t even want to think. And somehow, Basil understood that. The hands that were on her hips turned her around to face him, and Sarah had to open her eyes. When she did, though, Sarah couldn’t look away. She needed to see him. She needed to be close to him.

She leaned forward and gave him one kiss. That was enough for both of them to start working on his clothes – he knew that she had accepted him, and she knew that she really did need him here.

His tie was the first to go, landing on top of the heap that was Sarah’s clothes, and then his vest. Basil took of his shoes and socks, forgetting about them the moment they were off. Merlin only knew why he was still in his school clothes at this hour of the night, but Sarah wasn’t going to question it. She unbuttoned his shirt from the top-down – he started working from the bottom-up. Pushing the shirt off of his shoulders, Sarah stared at him, serious expression never leaving her face. When he leaned forward to kiss her again, even her kiss was too serious for his liking.

This wasn’t his Sarah.

He felt her anxious energy when she unbuttoned his slacks, so he pulled them down with his shorts and leaned forward to kiss her again, make her feel something other than this awful seriousness again. The problem was, it was getting serious for Basil, too. His concern for her showed on his face, even when he pulled her closer.

Basil pulled away, settling his hands back on her hips and giving her a little smile. When she gave him a little smile back, he knew that it was going to be okay. Slowly, he slid her knickers over her hips, letting her step out of them, never taking his eyes off of her.

When they were both in the water, both of them shoulder-deep in water and soaked to the core, Sarah pulled away and smiled brightly at him, that same teasing smile she always had coming back. “Let’s run away together.”

Basil could only laugh at her, wrapping both arms around her waist. “Oh, sod off, Darling.” He grinned into the kiss, glad to have his Sarah back.

nargles @ 2010-11-21T12:22:00

2010-11-21T17:10:02Z

“Sarah, love, why are you going outside? Darling, it’s almost three in the morning!” Basil cried, laughing hysterically as he watched Sarah make her way determinedly across the Courtyard, in the general direction of the Lake. Naturally, he followed close behind, making sure she didn’t make too much of a fool of herself – alcohol and fairy dust did some pretty amazing things to Sarah.

She didn’t listen. Instead, she just kept skipping towards the Lake, giggling the whole way. “I have an ideaaaaa!” she told him, rather sing-songy in her past-tipsy state. She was aware of everything around her, of course, but Sarah’s enhanced ideas were unable to be stopped at this point. She grinned back at Basil, who couldn’t help but grin back at her – she was acting hilariously, after all.

Once they had reached the Lake, Basil watched her, intrigued and slightly confused at what was going on because she wouldn’t stop giggling. There was a brief pause, and then his mouth opened and closed uselessly because he wasn’t sure he could quite believe the scene in front of him.

Her shirt dropped to the ground, despite the cool March air, which was followed by the denim pair that covered her long legs.

Oh.

Basil was pretty sure that he could handle this.

His shirt quickly was tossed carelessly over his head and away – fuck any of the consequences later – and he undid his belt as he watched her in shock and awe. There she was, standing in her underwear in the middle of March, without a care in the world. Slipping his jeans off and stepping out of them, he looked up just in time to see her unhook her bra and step closer to the water. He stepped out of his shoes and socks without a second thought, following quickly after her, stopping only when she pulled down her knickers to stare at her for a few moments and etch this scene into his happy memories.

And then she was in the water, hidden from his view, only a splash to prove that she was still there. Basil slipped off his shorts and jumped in after her, leaving land and any sense of morals behind.

The funniest part was, in Basil’s opinion, that they couldn’t stop giggling, even in the freezing water. Basil took Sarah by the hips, warming her shivering, laughing body with his own. Whatever tomorrow brought, Basil would never know – but that was tomorrow, and this was now.

nargles @ 2010-11-21T12:21:00

2010-11-21T17:09:08Z

It happened exactly three weeks ago. It started with drinking firewhiskey from Basil’s flask. They shared stories about their parents, their past loves, their most embarrassing moments. After several sips too many, it was impossible to pry herself from his shoulder, giggling uncontrollably into the cool night air. It ended with a kiss, too serious and too methodical for either of them to handle in this state. Her bottle of Gillywater spilled to the hard ground, forgetting everything except for the taste of his lips.

Sarah would have liked to say that it didn’t matter.

Sarah would have liked to say that she didn’t even remember. But she did.

Three weeks later, they moved quickly through the corridors, the only light at the tip of Basil’s wand. It must have been sometime past midnight, all of the portraits around them fast asleep. The only thing that Sarah was aware of was the sound of both their breaths, heavy and quick with excitement.

Sarah held a lethal amount of Wildfire Whiz-Bangs in her hand – Basil carried a Portable Swamp box. They were the two oldest tricks in the book, but at Merlin knows what time in the morning, it did the trick for the two of them.

Instead of things turning better after their kiss three weeks ago, they came up with every excuse why it didn’t matter to them. (“I was drunk.” “It was the full moon.” “I wasn’t thinking straight.” “I just felt like kissing. It could have been anyone.” “I had so much to drink that I was convinced that the world was ending.”) It went on forever, and both of them decided that it was better left forgotten. They went back to being prank buddies, spending almost every night thinking of fantastical plans together.

They hurried down to the Dungeons – their favorite target for pranks – until they reached the door of Slytherin Common Room, laughing in hushed tones the entire way.

After letting loose the Swamp, the two quickly ran up the nearest stairs, throwing timed fireworks behind them as they climbed. They had to catch their breath from laughing so hard at the top of the stairs, Sarah practically choking with laughter because she couldn’t even stand it anymore – having a prank buddy was probably the best thing she could have invested in.

“Do you think it’s going to work, with all of that water reacting against the fireworks?” Basil challenged her for a final time, raising his eyebrows as if she should melt on the spot.

Sarah gave him a weird look. “Um. Duh. I’m a genius, remember?”

They both passed a knowing look before walking back towards their dormitories, ready to call it a night. Every so often, Sarah would look over at Basil and think about that night, three weeks ago. She knew that it meant absolutely nothing to him, especially since he kept so quiet – clearly, he was just her prank buddy, and nothing else. It was purely business, and she thought she wouldn’t have it any other way.

She convinced herself that she didn’t want it any other way, even as he whispered, “Nox,” dimming his wand and leaving them in complete darkness.

Sarah felt a hand feel at her waist and hip and took an automatic step back, even as he brushed his lips against hers. He moved with her, quickly pressing her into a portrait (who woke up with a bewildered start – not that they even noticed, too busy with each other) and kissing her like she couldn’t say no.

She couldn’t.

She wouldn’t.

And then it was over. He moved away and whispered, “Lumos.” Sarah knew that it was still a secret, but it didn’t stop her heart from pounding any harder.

Once they had reached the start to their separate paths, Basil turned to her nonchalantly.

“Night, then!”

Sarah knew that it was still a secret that she was supposed to forget.

She wouldn’t.

nargles @ 2008-08-09T01:14:00

2008-08-09T05:19:55Z

I looked at a portrait of my family today and noticed my mother's nose for the very first time. I always raked over her features before, but when I saw her nose and ears, it all fell into place. I am my mother's daughter when I see my ears and nose and sometimes even my eyebrows.

My sentiments are that the most important parts of you are your nose, ears, eyebrows and eyes. Nothing else matters, not even the nargles that could be festering above.