Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Thrilling Tales of the Downright Unusual
A/N: I own none of this. I do not own Harry Potter or any rights to his image or personality. I do not own the moon or the stars. I do not own human genders, other than my own personal original factory equipment. Honest. Nope, not me. I most certainly do not own the rights to a billion dollar literary work.
Plotting with Potions
The hardest part had been setting up the potions lab. For obvious reasons they couldn’t use Snape’s labs or his ingredients. Now that it was setup, and the ingredients ordered via Owl post via the twins, the pair hovered over their cauldrons in anticipation of the completed brew.
He was rubbish at potions, his participation limited to preparing the ingredients under her watchful eye and handing them to the girl as she asked for them. Her potions skills were top notch, impressing even Snape, a skill she attributed to her mother.
Not trusting the Twin’s Wonder Witch line due to the ready availability of antidotes, they had elected to brew their own. The Frozen Ashwinder eggs, which were only the most volatile of the ingredients, had just been added to the two cauldrons. Exactly on schedule the potions went from milky white to the shimmering mother of pearl the texts spoke of. Then they each added a vial of their own blood, the keying agent. All it would take was a single taste…
Perfect.
---===oooOOOooo===---
It had been Fourth year when he had decided he wanted her, right after he missed his chance with her for the Yule ball. He had spent the dance staring at her from a distance, hating every moment she was in the other man’s arms. Deciding it a lost cause, he had tried to date others, but it always came back to her.
For the young woman, it had been the trio’s fifth year when her crush blossomed into full-blown lust and an all-consuming need. The smell of his body when he came off the Quidditch pitch soaked in sweat, glances shared during meals before they separated to go to their classes. Night after night, she called his name as she touched herself, her secret only kept by the silencing charms on the drapery of her four-poster bed.
---===oooOOOooo===---
Everything was ready. They had planned their trap so very carefully coinciding with a Hogsmeade weekend. Her mouth went dry when she caught sight of his unruly hair as he entered the Three Broomsticks. It was all she could do to keep from rising to her feet and leaping into his arms. Too soon, too soon. Be calm, she told herself, you’ve waited this long. A little longer.
He rose to his feet and greeted his best friend and the target of his desire. As they had planned, he put the proper bottle of butterbeer into his friend’s hand. He ignored the guilt he felt at doing so. It was for the best. Really it was. He smiled as he saw the proper bottle being raised to her lips, the lips he dreamed of. The lips that would belong to him, finally.
It took only four minutes for their plot to reach its completion, when her man reached across the table and hesitantly took her hand. It worked. He was hers.
Choke on that Lavender.
“Oh Harry” she breathed in his ear, as he allowed his hands to roam in the darkened corner of the pub. Their lips met in the darkness, and he imagined he could taste the potion.
He looked up catching Hermione’s eye as she broke the kiss with Ron. She winked, signaling success on her end as well.
It worked. Both of them had what they wanted. No longer would they be outsiders looking in, now they would be part of a pure blood clan, with the partners they wanted.
Perfect.
Plotting with Potions
The hardest part had been setting up the potions lab. For obvious reasons they couldn’t use Snape’s labs or his ingredients. Now that it was setup, and the ingredients ordered via Owl post via the twins, the pair hovered over their cauldrons in anticipation of the completed brew.
He was rubbish at potions, his participation limited to preparing the ingredients under her watchful eye and handing them to the girl as she asked for them. Her potions skills were top notch, impressing even Snape, a skill she attributed to her mother.
Not trusting the Twin’s Wonder Witch line due to the ready availability of antidotes, they had elected to brew their own. The Frozen Ashwinder eggs, which were only the most volatile of the ingredients, had just been added to the two cauldrons. Exactly on schedule the potions went from milky white to the shimmering mother of pearl the texts spoke of. Then they each added a vial of their own blood, the keying agent. All it would take was a single taste…
Perfect.
---===oooOOOooo===---
It had been Fourth year when he had decided he wanted her, right after he missed his chance with her for the Yule ball. He had spent the dance staring at her from a distance, hating every moment she was in the other man’s arms. Deciding it a lost cause, he had tried to date others, but it always came back to her.
For the young woman, it had been the trio’s fifth year when her crush blossomed into full-blown lust and an all-consuming need. The smell of his body when he came off the Quidditch pitch soaked in sweat, glances shared during meals before they separated to go to their classes. Night after night, she called his name as she touched herself, her secret only kept by the silencing charms on the drapery of her four-poster bed.
---===oooOOOooo===---
Everything was ready. They had planned their trap so very carefully coinciding with a Hogsmeade weekend. Her mouth went dry when she caught sight of his unruly hair as he entered the Three Broomsticks. It was all she could do to keep from rising to her feet and leaping into his arms. Too soon, too soon. Be calm, she told herself, you’ve waited this long. A little longer.
He rose to his feet and greeted his best friend and the target of his desire. As they had planned, he put the proper bottle of butterbeer into his friend’s hand. He ignored the guilt he felt at doing so. It was for the best. Really it was. He smiled as he saw the proper bottle being raised to her lips, the lips he dreamed of. The lips that would belong to him, finally.
It took only four minutes for their plot to reach its completion, when her man reached across the table and hesitantly took her hand. It worked. He was hers.
Choke on that Lavender.
“Oh Harry” she breathed in his ear, as he allowed his hands to roam in the darkened corner of the pub. Their lips met in the darkness, and he imagined he could taste the potion.
He looked up catching Hermione’s eye as she broke the kiss with Ron. She winked, signaling success on her end as well.
It worked. Both of them had what they wanted. No longer would they be outsiders looking in, now they would be part of a pure blood clan, with the partners they wanted.
Perfect.
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