seventines (seventines) wrote in alohomorare,
seventines
seventines
alohomorare

Hello folks,

I'm new here. Thanks to starrysummer for allowing me to join. In celebration, I've written a little fic, if you like it please let me know and I'll write more.

Title: Gentille alouette
Author: seventines aka stendahl
Rating: (G-NC17) NC17
Summary: Marietta Edgecombe’s sixth year is not shaping up too well. 1,818 words.
Pairings: Marietta Edgecombe/Pansy Parkinson
Disclaimer: Need I say the characters are not mine, but J.K. Rowling's very own. She doesn't know they're here and I'm not sure she'd approve of what they're up to, so let's not tell.
Warnings: Underage sex (well, they're both 16). Very oblique spoilers for OotP.
Author's Notes: Very many thanks to fluffyllama for the beta.

Gentille alouette.

Inspired by part of a poem by Lady Mary Wortley Montagu called The Lover: A Ballad:
And that my delight may be solidly fixed,
Let the friend and the lover be handsomely mixed,
In whose tender bosom my soul might confide,
Whose kindness can sooth me, whose counsel could guide.




She’d been distracted for a moment by a flash of dark hair, so when the cold wash of spilled pumpkin juice drenched her shirt and robe, it could have been accidental. The fact that it was not the first time – not even the first time this week – and the subvocal hiss of “sneak!” that followed showed it was no accident.

She looked back across the hall. The dark haired girl had heard the scrape of chairs and turned, her hair swinging in a glossy ripple, but it wasn’t Cho. It was Pansy, the Slytherin girl she knew from joint Arithmancy classes last year.

Marietta used a napkin to mop some of the pumpkin juice off her books, then packed them in her bag and left the hall. Instead of walking over to her first class, she headed down the stairs towards the part of the castle where the house elves worked. She passed the entrance to the kitchen and came to the portrait of the dairymaid in a starched white cap that marked the entrance to the laundry. The maid looked up from the butter she was churning and said “Not again, dearie. That’s the second time this week and it’s only Wednesday.”

“Yes, again. May I go in, please?”

“Of course you can. There’s nobody in there at the moment but I’m sure you know where everything is by now.”

“Yes, I do. Thanks.”

The hidden door swung open and Marietta walked in to the warm, sweet smelling darkness. She didn’t close the door behind her because she wanted to be quick. Taking off her robe and unbuttoning the stained shirt, she wandered over to a big hamper of dirty clothes and threw in the robe. It was at that moment that the door clicked behind her and the room went dark.

She turned around to see what had happened and blundered into a huge pile of freshly laundered towels. She still hadn’t managed to extricate herself when she heard a softly spoken “Lumos” and looked up to see that Pansy had followed her. Scooping her hair back over her shoulder away from her face, the girl leaned forward to peer at Marietta. “You were watching me earlier”, she said.

“I’m sorry, I thought you were somebody else.”
“I know. We look quite alike from behind, don’t we?” She gave a knowing little smile at Marietta, who was still sprawled in the towels, wondering where her wand had gone. “I don’t mind, actually,” she went on, “because I think what happened last year was a real shame.”

There was no real answer to this, because Marietta was achingly aware that despite everything she’d done for Cho last year, she’d been rewarded by seeing her exactly twice this term, with Michael Corner draped over her on both occasions.

Pansy didn’t seem bothered that Marietta didn’t say anything. “She’s not turned out to be much of a friend, has she? She saw what happened up there and she did nothing but you’re drenched.” She carefully rested her still glowing wand on a pile of folded sheets, picked up a towel and moved closer, wiping it gently down the front of Marietta’s body where her shirt hung open. Marietta flinched back a bit but didn’t ask Pansy to stop. The thought that Cho had seen and done nothing was distracting and she sagged back and closed her eyes for a moment to blink away the tears that had started to well up. The dabbing and stroking of the soft towel was comforting and the smell of soap and lavender water that filled the laundry was calming. Pansy went on talking and her voice was low and gentle. “What Granger did was unforgiveable. I can’t believe the other Ravenclaws don’t back you up. It must be really difficult having to live with that every day.”

Pansy started to push Marietta’s wet shirt off her shoulders, so she sat up a little to help, opening her eyes to find the girl’s face quite close to her. Unlike Cho’s, Pansy’s eyes were a deep velvety violet and she looked unblinkingly at Marietta. “It’s soaked right through to your bra” she whispered, her fingers brushing the side of Marietta’s breast.

Marietta shivered slightly and looked down at the little white fingers that were now stroking lightly across the cotton. Pansy kept talking soothingly, saying “I’m sure we can find you a clean one. You don’t mind me helping, do you?” She looked at Marietta again, her eyes wide and dark.

“No, I don’t mind, I think.” She was surprised to find that the stroking and the crooning voice were making her wet, so she wiggled around a little, letting her legs fall open slightly.

Pansy barely waited for her response, leaning even closer and circling Marietta with her arms. Her fingers quickly found the bra clasp but once it was undone, she didn’t pull away again. Still looking at Marietta, she licked her lips, then quickly ducked her head to brush her lips across Marietta’s shoulder. Her lips continued downwards without breaking contact as she pushed the bra aside and encircled Marietta’s nipple with her damp lips. The intensity of the sensation was counterpointed by the gentleness of the contact and Marietta found she couldn’t think what to do. In fact, she quickly reached the conclusion that the best thing to do was nothing at all. She couldn’t help arching her back a little, though, pushing her breasts harder against Pansy.

Pansy’s hands slid up until they cupped both breasts and she moved until she was lying partly on top, wriggling up Marietta’s body a little, the roughness of her robes stimulating the skin. As she dipped her head to brush Marietta’s lips, both thumbs flicked at the now erect nipples, making little blissful darts rush through her body and pool with a light throb between her legs. The only clear thought in Marietta’s mind was that after four years, she was finally exactly where she wanted to be but with the wrong girl. But Pansy’s pointed little tongue had touched the side of her mouth, so she opened her lips and let her own tongue move into the warmth and wetness of the other girl’s mouth. Pansy moaned slightly and Marietta thrust up against her, needing to feel movement and friction. One hand left her nipple and moved to touch her leg just above her knee so that her focus shifted downwards away from the distracting little dips of Pansy’s tongue in her mouth and fingers on her breast. Regardless of the situation, she knew now what she wanted so she shifted and squirmed a little, needing the hand to move.

Obligingly, Pansy slipped her hand slowly upwards under Marietta’s kilt until her fingers brushed damp fabric. This time, it was Marietta who gasped slightly into the other girl’s mouth, and Pansy responded by pulling back and dropping her head down to suck gently on the nipple imprisoned by her hand. At the same time, the fingers of her other hand wriggled under Marietta’s knickers until they touched the skin beneath. Again, Marietta had the urge to push her hips forward and she looked down at the silky black head moving against her breast. As Pansy’s fingers started to spread the slick wetness between her legs the thought blazed through her head that it was Cho whose fingers and lips she could feel, whose quickened breath she could hear, whose flowery scent enveloped her.

She felt Pansy’s fingers delve a little, the thumb brushing for the first time against her clit. She shivered and drew in a long breath, as if she was about to speak. Lifting her head a little, Pansy looked up at her, smiled slyly and said “You can say her name if you like, I don’t mind.”

When Marietta replied, she was aware that her own voice sounded unfamiliar, husky and breathy. “I don’t want, don’t need to, please, just don’t stop.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” She didn’t, her fingers moving in tight little circles and her other hand leaving Marietta’s nipple to move in behind her, pushing down until the fingers stroked the cheeks of her bottom then slid between and further down. Panting now, Marietta felt a building tension between her legs and was torn between wanting to push forward against the fingers that teased her clit or backwards against the finger that circled and pressed a little against the tight pucker of her arse. As she looked down, she could see Pansy’s little white teeth nipping at the bud of her nipple and felt wave after wave of nervy pleasure rush through her body.

She began to feel that the gentle fingers were tearing her apart and her movements against Pansy became faster and more frenzied to match the flick, flick of fingers against her clit. She moaned Pansy’s name and the shudders took her, running through her until at last, she slumped back against the towels, sweat bathing her in a damp steamy warmth. She sprawled loosely, her eyes half closed, watching Pansy through a screen of eyelashes.

Pansy stood up and Marietta could see that she’d hardly even disturbed her robes, beyond pushing the sleeves up slightly over her fine boned wrists. There was a delicate flush in her pale cheeks and her eyes gleamed. She shook her hair back out of her face, smiled and went over to rummage through the freshly laundered clothes, returning with a crisp shirt and clean bra and knickers. “I don’t expect these are yours, but what happened to your clothes wasn’t your fault so if anybody says anything, refer them to me.” She grinned, tapping the Prefect badge on her chest.

Feeling quite self-conscious, Marietta used a towel to dry herself and quickly changed into the fresh clothes while Pansy watched with a little wicked smile. When Marietta was ready, Pansy reached over and twisted a little fair curl around her finger, then releasing the curl to spring back, used the same finger to brush her cheek. “I think I would be a good friend, if you’d let me.” She looked at Marietta consideringly for a moment, then sang softly “Marietta, gentille alouette.” She stopped and laughed quietly as though it was a little private joke. “Shall we go along to Arithmancy? I’ll make sure nobody bothers you.” She paused and laughed again. “You can sit with me and my friends. We’re all used to being called sneaks.”

Marietta followed her out of the laundry and along the corridor, watching the swing and sway of Pansy’s dark hair and wondering if that wasn’t the sort of friend she’d been looking for all along.

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