Molly Carmichael will feed your Barbosa fetish (thefashionclub) wrote in thispurgatory, @ 2011-04-13 12:24:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! 1998-february, ! incomplete, ! log, molly carmichael, nathan boot |
Who: Nathan and Molly
Where: Ravenclaw boys' dorm
When: Early morning of February 13th
What: Molly is determined to give getting snogged before Valentine's Day a good effort.
Rating: PG-13?
Twenty-seven days. Twenty-seven that she and Nathan had been doing whatever it was they were doing and still no snog. Molly was getting bothered in more than one sense of the word. She flung herself onto her back and stared up at the ceiling with a half-annoyed, half-wistful sigh. Absently she sent a flock of birds hovering above her head with a mute "Avis," but staring at them as they hovered above her (perhaps the magical version of counting sheep) did not lull her eyes closed. A moment later she changed the birds into miniature versions of actual sheep. That did still not work. They seemed to goggle down at her with an almost insolent ease. One lamb even stuck its tongue out at her. She made the flock (or whatever you called sheep in plural these days) disappear with an angry puff of lavender smoke.
Fuck it, she declared inwardly, kicking the covers off her legs and leaping into a standing position. The lateness of the hour plus her sleep-deprived state had instilled further bravado (something which perhaps some would argue Molly had more than her fair share of anyway) into her, and she quietly crept over to her trunk, slipping out of her flannel pajamas into something less cozy but infinitely more appealing, then replaced her pajamas back on top. She ran her fingers over her hair, then applied peppermint lip balm. Good, she had used her spiced apple conditioner earlier.
The plan, she decided, though in reality her behaviour was too impulsive to earn that label, was not to make the first move herself, but to work the circumstances so that it would be impossible for Nathan not to. And if that didn't work, well, hitting him over the head just might. At least it would get rid of some of her annoyance, if nothing else. Tiptoeing through the common room, she let out a yelp as her toe collided with someone's discarded book (closer inspection through a Lumos charm revealed it to be a copy of Hogwarts: A History - and yes, she was indeed in Ravenclaw Tower) then issued a string of muffled obscenities. Deciding it wouldn't behoove her to arouse the rest of the slumbering sixth years in a similar manner, she maintained the charm, but dulled it until only a faint opalescent glow gave out, then continued forward still more cautiously.
Nathan appeared fast asleep when she arrived, tugging back the corner of one of the curtains surrounding his bed. Well, at least one of them had been able to doze off. Torn between a tightness in her chest at how defenseless and adorable he looked, curled up around his pillow, and a desire to wrench said pillow out of his arms and whack him over the head with it, she dropped the curtain safely behind her, Vanished her pajamas, then slipped under the covers, now wearing something decidedly less practical. If this didn't work, she'd sue someone. Then join a convent.