All of the below was beta'ed by elfflame. Thank you so much!

Title: Luck
Author: kabal42
Characters/Pairings: Luna/Ginny
Rating: PG
Content/Warnings: A kind of poetry
Word Count: 80
Summary/Description: A wedding of two temperaments.
Author's Notes: For iamisaac's Sweet Kisses.


Luna's dress was yellow, for sun and luck and happiness;
Ginny wore the green of spring, of fortune and fruition.
Luna had earrings mistaken for radishes (by those none the wiser)
Ginny's were shamrocks that no-one could deny.
'Odd,' they said. 'How can she do it?'
'Wrong.' 'Freak.' 'Beautiful.'
'Shame,' they said. 'She had such future.'
'Happy.' 'Gay.' 'Strange.'
But Luna danced on the rays of the sun,
following the spring of Ginny's steps.
That much luck lasts a lifetime.


Title: Wolfing
Author: kabal42
Characters/Pairings: Luna/Harry
Rating: NC-17
Content/Warnings: Cunnilingus, role-play, penetration.
Word Count: ~ 300
Summary/Description: Luna dresses up. Harry doesn't, but that doesn't stop him form playing his part.
Author's Notes: For thilia's Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf.


Luna giggles when Harry pulls her down on the sofa with him. 'But you're not a wolf at all,' she says. 'Not even dressed up as one. It's not a game if you don't look the part.'

Harry doesn't much care, but he does make a nice approximation of a predatory growl when he kisses Luna's skin while pushing her (previously) buttoned shirt off.

'Really, Harry, at least let me transfigure whiskers.' Luna reaches for her wand and Harry grins (still not wolfish, but at least it fits the fairy tale), catches her hand and takes it away.

'If I have whiskers I'll tickle you,' he murmurs against her throat and Luna decides that perhaps the kind of things he plans to do with his mouth wouldn't be served by whiskers anyway. Besides, he was he's kissing her now makes her mind a bit wobbly and it's better if she decides to let it go.

'I'll just, mm, pretend,' she mutters as he disappears lower, soon revealing that she didn't bother finding appropriate knickers for this costume. It was a dirty one originally anyway.

'Yeah,' he murmurs, licking over her clit. 'All the better to taste you.'

She can hear him opening the trousers he's wearing, senses him stroking himself while he licks her. (It's the way he moves that does it. She can tell even with her eyes closed.) When he leans up to kiss her and she feels the hot hardness of him, she stops him.

'Little Red Riding Hood,' she reminds him. He understands. Joins her on the sofa, leaning back, and she slides on top of him, leans back, glides lower. Harry pushes, she moans, spreads her legs as he fills her.

Sometimes even fairy tales have happy endings.



Title: Brothers do it Better
Author: kabal42
Characters/Pairings: Tonks/Bill/Charlie
Rating: R
Content/Warnings: Threesome, incest (pairing + mention of others)
Word Count: 100
Summary/Description: Tonks reflects on a truth of ther sex life.
Author's Notes: For ericahpfa'a No. 77.
And for ragdoll who suggested this.


Tonks had learned ages ago that brothers did it better. Twins were all right, but she'd been there, done that, and brothers needn't be twins to be good. In fact, in her limited (one set of twin brothers) experience, non-twins were better than twins. (Twin sisters, however, were something!) Of all her sex partners, and there had been some, these two were her favourites. Complimentary. Different. Gorgeous when they touched. Muscles. Tattoos. Great fucks. No-one fit her that well. No-one as good; one in her mouth, one in her cunt. Fortunately they were open-minded; she'd never've been able to choose.


Title: Eyes on the Wall
Author: kabal42
Characters/Pairings: Harry/Lucius, Harry/Draco
Rating: PG-13
Content/Warnings: Revenge, regret.
Word Count: 100
Summary/Description: A portrait thinks more than the flesh-beings believe.
Author's Notes: For elfflame's Lucius' Gallery – 10 Portraits - though it only features one of the portraits.


The green eyes stare at the man who visits. The portrait they belong to remembers more than the man knows, remembers his whispers in the throes of desire, knows the implications. So it stares, he stares, at the man, quietly naming him. Lucius. Right now it can't move, it's owner has seen to it, but it won't be long for its life span. Some day it will be free to visit another portrait of itself. Then itself will know and revenge will happen. Until then, it slips through a crack in magic and fucks the man's son next to itself.



Title: You fill my Senses
Author: kabal42
Characters/Pairings: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Content/Warnings: BDSM (flogging, paddling), anal sex
Word Count: ~ 800
Summary/Description: A sensory scene from a sex life.
Author's Notes: For clayangel's Play Time.
And for elfflame who suggested this.


There's something very special about the sound of a flogger running through a hand. Almost inaudible, a soft slide, only the person doing it can really sense it. The scent of the leather comes with it, penetrates pores and raises the pulse. The power of association.

Harry knows it's different for Draco. The power is there, but the triggers are different. He lets Draco see the flogger and registers the smirk his lover tries to hide when the scent reaches him too. He touches the tails softly to Draco's shoulder, a promise of so much more, and hear a gentle sigh in response. That is a particularly strong reaction this early in the game, and that's exactly why Harry does it.

Sound is next. Harry lets the whip swish through the air. Draco flinches, then moans. The sound startles, then fails to deliver its promise. It's part relief, part disappointment, and it works them both up.

Harry pulls his shirt of, wanders off to hang it casually on a hook and lets Draco see him shirtless in the process. He can feel the pale eyes follow him through the room, and though he tries, Draco isn't fast enough to hide his looks when Harry turns to face him.

'Head down,' he remarks, casual, cold. Draco flinches. Sounds can be so powerful.

When he's nearly back by Draco's side he swings the flogger again, and this time the flinch is even stronger. There's also a fear of being in trouble now, having wronged the rules of the game and paying a much-desired price. Harry can see the effect it has on Draco, the hardness of his cock, and he can feel his own matching reaction.

Third time is a charm and this time he strikes true. Draco's flinch is less powerful now that his expectations are met, but the soft moan that follows is more than reward enough to make up for it. Harry studies the faint flush of skin where he struck, then strikes again.

Again. Again. The sound of the whip catches him in its rhythm, the sight of Draco's skin flushing, his movements as he rocks with the lashes and soon can't stand still, but moves involuntarily, rising up on his toes or bending his knees, twisting to get away from the very thing he loves. All of it to the tune of loud and louder moans.

Until Harry stops. Then all is silent. Draco is waiting for Harry to speak or act, but Harry doesn't. The lack of sensory input can be just as potent as the overload they've just been through. Till finally:

'Please, sir...'

'What, my pet?'

'Don't stop...' Draco's voice is so soft it's barely audible. This time it's Harry who smirks.

Instead of answering he puts the flogger down, silent, and picks up a paddle. He won't stop yet. They need so much more than this.

The sound of the paddle is different, loud thwacks rather than whooshes and thuds. It marks Draco's skin in a different way. No streaks. Patches instead. Oh, and how he moves now.

The first smacks, unexpected, makes him jump and yelp. But even as they both cherish the rhythm, the feeling that matches the throbbing in Harry's cock, Draco can't hold back his cries. Harry lets them take him away, draw him in, until nothing else exists, only the man in front of him and what they're doing together. Draco's cries rise, a tidal wave in his ears, finally cut off by a scream.

He drops the paddle and moves to look at his work. Draco is panting, eyes closed, cheeks streaked with tears and a look of utter bliss on his face. He brushes hair out of the man's eyes, and they open with a completely unguarded look in them, one of pain and devotion.

'Please, sir,' he says again, hoarse, tired, and this time Harry doesn't ask him what he's begging for.

Instead he moves back to Draco's arse, drops his own jeans and thrusts into his lover, still ready from earlier, and Draco's cry has a whole other tone now, one that goes to Harry's groin as fast as his previous ones.

Once more his world narrows till Draco is all there is. The slide of bodies, the race for completion. His hand reaches down, strokes Draco's hardness to increased cries until Draco's finally yells when he spills all over Harry's hand and the floor and clenches so hard around Harry he can't resist and follows him moments after.

Afterwards there's only the soft green light of the room, the smell of their combined sweat and desire, the smell of sex. They curl up on the bed where Harry can hold Draco and they can ride out the wave of completion and devotion to the place where no-one else could ever take them.