Alasdair Buchanan keeps his secrets... (ecoutezmoi) wrote in reduxpitch, @ 2015-12-31 00:00:00 |
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Entry tags: | !challenge, !thread, character: edward carmichael, location: diagon alley, retired character: hermione granger |
WHO: Eddie Carmichael and Hermione Granger
WHEN: January 1st, 2002
WHERE: An acquaintance's bed
WHAT: One night stands and a fair bit of mild swearing...
CHALLENGE: A player you haven't scened with yet, pre-dawn, your conscience
Mmmm...is it morning already?
Eddie was in that delightfully cosy position one has after a long night out, the preceding New Year’s Eve having been spent out at the pub, drinking, talking, and generally giving 2001 a damned good send-off. He was warm, more comfortable than usual at this time in the morning, and he didn’t even have a hangover beyond a slight twinge behind his right temple. Score.
What was it that had woken him from his deep slumber, though? On mornings such as this, it usually took being physically shaken awake to disturb him before he was properly ready. Thinking on his, Eddie turned his head slightly to find his face full of long, thick hair, realising that his arm was around the bare waist of the figure in bed beside him, his right leg slipped a little through her slender ones.
Ah. That’d do it.
*
Hermione hadn’t planned on going out for New Year’s Eve. She had historically always passed on parties, much preferring quiet nights curled up with Crookshanks, tea, and a book to read to loud, drunk people. But when she found herself working even in her spare time, when her last birthday passed and nobody offered to celebrate with her, she knew she needed to socialise a bit more. For her health… or something.
From reading journal entries, she chose to visit a popular pub where she knew she’d know at least a few folks, most from school but some from work. She hadn’t planned to stay more than an hour, but she found herself enjoying the night. The conversation. Even the drinks. She hadn’t felt so relaxed in years, and at some point during that party, she made a resolution to have more fun in 2002.
When she stirred the next morning, her head throbbed with a wicked hangover and she buried her face deeper into the pillow, giving a bit of a moan. As she slowly crawled toward consciousness, she realised her sheets smelled… off. And when she shifted more, they scratched strangely against her skin.
Bare skin. Which was definitely touching other bare skin.
With a gasp, Hermione shot up right and clutched the bedsheet to her chest, gripping them so tightly her knuckles went white. “Carmichael?”
*
Eddie instinctively rolled to his side as she sat up, preventing himself from falling off the bed on his side. Damn, that girl could move quick… and move in some other ways too, he reminded himself, having some rather vivid memories of last night. He felt his lips twitch, and restrained himself from smirking. Not right now, anyway, when his bed partner was clearly surprised to be here. Shit.
“Morning to you too, Granger” he replied casually, pulling himself to a sitting position without anywhere near as much concern for covering himself as Hermione had. It was, after all, a little too late for modesty now. “How’s the head this morning?”
*
Typically quick and sharp-tongued, Hermione opened and closed her mouth a few times without producing any words as she stared at Eddie. She swallowed hard as rather vivid memories returned to her in that moment, and her cheeks flushed a deep scarlet. No Imperius Curse involved. Not even too much alcohol. It was completely consensual, and that made her stomach flip.
“It’s fine,” she said sharply, tucking a lock of curls behind her ear as she eyed him. She noticed his restraint. “You seem rather pleased with yourself.”
*
Eddie stretched a little, arching his back to test the tension of his tired muscles. Seemed fine so far. He rolled one of his shoulders a little before looking back over at Hermione, who really didn’t seem like she was used to this. Weird.
“I have no complaints” he replied calmly, running a hand through his hair to figure out how tidy (or not) it was. “And from what I recall of last night, that feeling was rather mutual, no?”
*
No, she wasn’t used to this at all, but she was trying extremely hard (too hard, perhaps), to appear she had. He definitely didn’t need any further ego boosting, but no, Hermione couldn’t come up with a complaint about the night before. He had, surprisingly, been quite a selfless lover, and her flush spread to her chest at the realisation.
“You hogged the blankets,” she managed after a moment, her gaze falling to his rather sculpted chest before snapping back up to his face.
*
Eddie couldn’t help but smile a little at that - not a smirk of one winning a battle of wits, but a softer grin at the unwitting admission that she had had a good time. “Not something I seem to recall, but apologies all the same” he replied, grinning again before looking around the room. His pants had to be somewhere around here…
*
“Apology accepted,” she said with a sigh, eyeing her trousers and her wand a few meters from the bed. The canary-coloured canopy and floral-themed paintings on the walls caught her attention and she squinted a bit. “Not exactly what I pictured as far as your personal taste, Carmichael. You didn’t seem the type to be into landscapes and pastels.” She paused, shooting him a warning glare over her shoulder. “Not that I ever pictured your bedroom before, so don’t even go there.”
*
Eddie held his hands up in a defensive gesture, showing her he’d had no intention of saying such a thing (though it would be a lie to say he hadn’t thought of it). Then her words sank in though, and he looked around the room. “Wait a minute” he replied, looking around the room, satisfied to spot his wand on the bedside table and his boxers on the other side of it. “I thought we’d gone to your place?”
A sense of what the fuck is going on here? was slowly building up inside him.
*
Hermione’s brow shot up and she snorted. “Yeah, like I’d bring a guy to my flat without a proper--” she froze mid-sentence, her eyes going wide. “Merlin’s beard, Eddie!” she hissed in a whisper, now super conscious of the fact that others may be hearing them. Someone could burst in any moment. “Where in Godric’s name did you take me??” Not caring much if the bed sheet was covering him up, she wrapped it fully around her body and scrambled to pull her clothes back on, doing her best to preserve any sort of modesty she could.
*
Eddie didn’t actually care whether he was covered up, sitting casually on the bed as he reached for his wand - always one to keep close in case contraceptive charms were needed - and began to summon his clothing from around the room. “I think you’ll find, Granger, that we both chose to come here, so don’t blame things on me, please” he replied, a little more sternly than he’d intended at first. He cursed himself inwardly for the tone, realising that she really wasn’t as used to having casual fun as he was. He needed to be gentler about this.
“Look, there’s no need to panic. I know where we are,” - the realisation coming to him of where the after party had taken them - “and we’ve got time, OK?” Waving his wand quickly, a soft purple glow emitted around the door. “There, the door is locked from the other side only, and if that turns green” - he nodded his head towards it - “then we could do with hurrying along a little. Seriously” he added, looking at her with a growing sense of concern. “There’s no need to worry. And if you’re looking for your bra”, he went on, performing a quick summoning charm, “apparently one of us threw it over the lampshade.”
*
“I know what that charm does, I could do it in my sleep.” The greatest insult was insinuating Hermione didn’t know something-- especially a rather simple charm like that. “And I’m not blaming,” she insisted, easily transfiguring her low-cut (but not too low-cut) top into a comfortable blue jumper. She tugged it over her head with her back turned, freeing her hair from the neck and summoning her bra from his hand. “Thanks,” she said, rolling her eyes as she cast a charm to shrink it and shove it into her pocket. She didn’t need it with the jumper, she was likely going straight home anyway. She pulled her knickers on and sat at the edge of the bed, working her jeans on as well.
*
Eddie sighed and rubbed his temple. Apparently, this was what you got when trying to reassure Hermione Granger. “Fine” he replied simply, tired of trying at this point. He was beginning to wonder why he bothered.
Turning his back, he slipped his pants and jeans on in one go, before standing up to go and fetch his shirt. He could have summoned it, of course, but he felt like he needed the space at that point.
*
The soft purple glow around the door did ease Hermione’s anxiety a little-- enough that she could admit when she was being a bit too snappish. His response caused a bit of guilt to surge in her belly and now that she was dressed, and he was mostly dressed, she relaxed a bit more. “Look, I didn’t mean to--” she started, shooting to her feet when she felt the sudden urge to busy herself. She cast a wordless refreshing charm on the sheets before making up the bed by hand. “I’m not exactly used to this sort of thing, okay? I’m not that kind of-- It’s definitely not my style.” Blushing again, she pointedly avoided eye contact as she repositioned the sheets and blankets.
*
Eddie turned to watch her as she began to make up the bed, a couple of things clicking into place in his mind, constantly on the go. Buttoning the shirt as she tucked under the last of the sheet, he dared to walk closer, perching on the end of the bed just enough to be seated without disrupting her work. “Not that kind of?” he enquired, catching her wrist lightly between his fingers and raising it to his lips, kissing her palm gently. “Look, no judging here, all right? We’re adults, and we both had a good time, so it’s no one else’s business, is it?” he soothed, trying to catch her eyes.
“I feel like maybe we got off - if you’ll pardon the phrase - on the wrong foot. This sort of thing has never bothered me, and I guess that can seem flippant… but as you’re aware, I like the woman I’m with to be satisfied and comfortable, so… breakfast? My treat. If you want to, of course.”
*
Hermione had caught herself-- she wasn’t the one night stand sort, but she certainly wasn’t a slut shamer either. Still, she didn’t want Eddie to have the impression that she routinely shagged people to preserve her reputation. His rather chivalrous move caught her off-guard, and she cast him an inquisitive look when he kissed her palm. It was disgustingly old-fashioned, but she did appreciate the effort. “Right. Thanks. No one else’s business, definitely.”
At the double entendre, she scoffed but couldn’t hide her smirk. “That’s sweet of you to offer, but I really should get home. I’ve loads of work to do.” Her stomach growled and betrayed her, and she fluffed each pillow before stepping back. “There. Looks fine, right? Unslept-in?”
*
Eddie noticed full well that Hermione’s stomach had rumbled, and instead chose to say nothing. She clearly wasn’t interested, and while that was a kick in the gut, he wasn’t going to push it. “Looks fine to me” he replied, though before he could continue, the glowing spell around the door turned green.
“Quick” he hissed, holding a hand out to her. “Time to leave.”
*
With a gasp, Hermione took his hand and braced herself for side-along Apparation, having no idea where they’d land. She could only hope they left whomever’s room that was in good enough shape. And that nobody randomly wound up shagging in her bed last night.
*
Holding Hermione’s hand tight, Eddie closed his eyes and concentrated, disapparating with a soft ‘pop’ as the room’s owner entered her flat, none the wiser that they had ever been there - which was, Eddie thought, exceedingly lucky.
They reappeared moments later down a side street in Diagon Alley, where the tall white marble of Gringott’s was visible over the roofs of the buildings to their left, and the screeching of owls from Eyelops’ could be heard from their right. Eddie sighed, more than a little relieved, gently letting go of Hermione’s hand.
“Well, we made it” he stated simply, unable to resist a quick look at her.
*
When Hermione’s feet hit cobblestone, she trailed her hands down her front before looking up at him and breathing a sigh of relief. “Well done. Thanks for not Splinching me.” Though chilly, the fresh January air soothed the remaining bit of her anxiety. “Right. Well. Happy New Year, then, Carmichael,” she said, flashing him a half-awkward, half-apologetic smile before walking off toward her building.
*
He raised an eyebrow ever so slightly at that. “Of course I wouldn’t - I’m not an idiot” he quipped. When she began to walk off, Eddie shook his head to himself, disapparating back to his flat in Godric’s Hollow.