Archiving some ficlets
Aug. 29th, 2006 04:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
laleiaTitle: The Other Wife
Fandom: Naruto
Rating: PG
Summary: I knew going into the marriage that he loved another woman ... Shikamaru/Temari, Shikamaru/OFC
Everyone talks about it behind my back. How Shikamaru chose me because I was the most mediocre candidate out there, because I would feel honored to marry a ninja, because I would worship the ground he walked on (so not true!), because I was the only one who wouldn’t have noticed.
They’re wrong, of course. Not about the choosing part. God knows why he chose me. And I do respect him a great deal, but I certainly don’t worship him. And I do notice. He doesn’t sleep with a different girl each week, cheating on me as often as he can, as the rumors go. It’s only the one woman, whenever they have a chance. It is, after all, hard for me not to notice that my bed is empty on nights she is in town.
Not that I’m complaining. I knew going into the marriage that he loved another woman. And that first night, when he moved to leave, he did look to me for acknowledgement, just in case I had changed my mind. For the first time, that night, I saw his unguarded face as he asked for my permission. So I nodded slightly and turned away. It was not until I was sure he had left that I allowed myself to cry.
People in this town can be cruel; they seem to take great pleasure in stopping their conversations just as I approach, so I know that they were talking about me. Shikamaru’s close friends, his ninja friends, they understand that things are not what they seem. At first, they were wary. I was not a ninja, had never been a ninja, had never wanted to be a ninja, was only their friend through my husband, and they didn’t know if it was within their rights to gently let me know. They probably had a small gathering one of the nights Shikamaru was with her, and appointed Chouji.
One of my lonely nights early on, when I was newly pregnant with our first, Chouji came over and gave me some hot chocolate for the cold. “He shouldn’t leave you alone,” he said quietly.
“It’s alright,” I had smiled. “It’s only a few months. Soon, he will be suffocating me with attention.”
Chouji looked hesitant, then “You know, he’s-”
“I know.”
Chouji looked a little surprised. He didn’t insult my intelligence by verifying, though. We spent the rest of the night discussing possible names for the new baby. He made sure I was settled, before heading home.
I don’t know what he told them, but Ino stopped throwing me worried looks.
The first and only time Shikamaru and I discussed her was after the birth of our son, my firstborn. When he was a month old, and my husband had told me all about his life plans for our son, I turned to him. “She would like to see him,” I had said.
He had not denied it.
“Invite her over.” That had been an order.
The village buzzed with gossip for days. A visiting dignitary had actually paid a visit to my house, to see my baby. They didn’t know, had never known, who he cheated on me with. I had seen her before, at state functions, but this was the first time we had met face to face. She met my eyes without shame; Shikamaru never showed shame, either. There was no pity or guilt. Just … an objective assessment of me. I probably came up short.
We were cordial and courteous, and if any of us was the least bit discomfited, it was probably the baby, who was having stomach troubles. It was only later, when Shikamaru was putting the baby to sleep, that I asked her what I had been wondering since that first night, the night I cried.
“Why did you say no?” At her blank look, I added, “When he asked you to marry him.”
“He never asked,” she sad calmly.
“Why would you have said no?” Because he would have asked if she would have said yes. Shikamaru is smart.
“We’re from different villages,” she finally said. “He makes a wonderful Hidden Leaf shinobi, and I an equally good kunoichi of the Hidden Sand. We’re both needed. Neither of us can afford to leave our village. My brother needs me, and his friend needs him”
There was a short silence before Shikamaru came back in, probably having judged that the awkward conversation we were bound to have would have passed. We spent the rest of the evening companionably. As we were seeing her off, she turned to me. “I apologize,” she said formally, “for any trouble or difficulties I may have caused you. If you and yours should ever need help, I am at your service.”
And that was the last I saw of her for fifteen years. There was peace and little need for negotiations, and then a war, when everybody was too busy, and then the fear when the shadows stalked, and then the peace again when our Hokage defeated them. Occasionally, I saw her in the distance, but both she and Shikamaru were busy, and I never met her again. I only knew when she was in town by my husband’s absences.
The year young Ryuji turned fifteen, things began to run less smoothly. Ryuji came home from school with bloodied noses and black eyes, though rumor had it that his opponents invariably looked worse. He never told us what the fights were about, but I had an idea that first night Shikamaru had to bring him back before seeing her.
“He thought he could follow a ninja,” Shikamaru had chuckled. “He wasn’t bad.” But he wasn’t particularly good either, was implied. Not up to his usual standard.
Ryuji didn’t say anything, but the following nights I kept a close eye on him when Shikamaru left.
Finally, one night, he turned to me. “Where does he go?” he asked belligerently. “The villagers say …” and it all spilled out. How he beat up everyone who insinuated that Shikamaru cheated on me. How they made fun of him everyday.
“Ignore them,” I advised. “Focus on being a ninja. And see to it that your sister doesn’t have any similar trouble.”
The next time Shikamaru left on a mission to Suna, I told him what had transpired (which he already knew).
“You deal with it,” I concluded shortly.
“When I return,” had been his reply.
The mission lasted three months, far longer than he had thought it would take. When he finally returned, he was weary. If Ryuji had chosen any other day to confront his father, Shikamaru would’ve been kinder. The news might’ve been broken more gently.
I don’t know what transpired behind closed doors, but by the time father and son finished their conversation, Ryuji had fled. When Shikamaru emerged, he was haggard. “There will most likely be a public confrontation over this,” he warned me.
He was somewhat right. The confrontation was not quite public, nor was it exactly private. I still do not know what Shikamaru accomplished that three months he was gone, but he was officially recognized for it. The Sixth Hokage herself came to thank Shikamaru in a private visit. It was during this visit, while she and Shikamaru reminisced about their youth, that Ryuji barged in.
“You honor this man who broke his oath to his wife? Who left at night to sleep with whore after whore while his stupidly devoted wife waited at home completely oblivious to his deception, to the-”
SLAP!
Before I was aware of my actions, I had moved across the room and slapped my own son. “I,” I said coldly, “am your mother. You will not call me stupid. You will show me respect. You will also refrain from insulting your father. He deserves your respect, too.”
“But he-”
“You think I did not know? You, like the villagers, think I am blind? You think I was not aware of whose bed my husband slept in?”
“But why-”
“He had my leave, granted before marriage and continued after death. Your father broke no oath and did no dishonor. Do not speak of what you do not understand.”
“I don’t understand because you don’t explain!”
“You still would not understand because you are young. What know you of love and the pain when you cannot be with the one you love?”
“Doe …” he hesitated. “Doesn’t Father love you?”
“No,” I said simply. This I knew and would not deny. Shikamaru’s heart was not, had never been, and never would be mine. “But I love him and it is enough.”
“But I don’t understand.”
“Of course you don’t. You don’t even understand enough to keep private matters private.” I frowned. “Hokage, please excuse this scene-”
“It is nothing. And please call me Sakura.” She looked at me gravely. “You know, Shikamaru’s and Temari’s tale could have been one of tragedy.” She would know, she who had lost both of her teammates, both of the men she had loved. “Instead, there is happiness.”
I would like to say that all was well after that, but I’m afraid with our story that is well-nigh impossible. Ryuji has never quite forgiven Shikamaru, but I never quite forgave him. Temari came over for dinner one night at my invitation, and I ensured that Ryuji behaved. Life continued, as life does.
When Shikamaru died, and Ryuji and Shikako had both given me grandchildren, I visited Temari one more time. I traveled to Sunakagure, and we had tea. She was older now, wrinkled, but she still had that strength my husband had once loved. We spoke of trivial matters, and then she spoke.
“He was always worried about you, you know. Worried he was asking too much of you, that this would be asking too much of anyone.”
“It’s why he gave me children. Something to keep me from getting too depressed.”
“Probably.”
Silence.
“I hated sharing him with you, you know. Hated that he was rightfully yours, that you were his legal wife and he was legally your husband. I’m a very jealous person.”
“You didn’t hate it enough to want to marry him.”
“No. I wouldn’t have made a good wife. Though, we might have been happy. Until the first signs of war. It would have been … troublesome.”
We both exchanged smiles at that word.
“God, he was a lazy bum, wasn’t he.”
“Like none other. Did he ever tell you about his Chuunin exam-”
“When he just gave up? He never told me, but Ryuji found out about it one day and came home and asked me if it was true. And I had to find out.”
More silence.
“I’m dying,” I finally admitted. “I wanted to see you one last time. I … had an offer.”
Temari waited.
“When I die, of course, I will be buried at his side. But … he has two sides. If you wish, I could have it arranged so that when you died, you would be buried at his other side.” This was a great concession, and I did not make it because I was kind or magnanimous, or because I particularly liked Temari. I did it because it would be a kind of ending. A resolution.
“Thank you.”
Title: Tête a tête
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: R
Summary: When Ron's girlfriend decides that Hermione is encroaching on her territory, Hermione takes some time to set things straight.
“I suppose I should start at the very beginning. Before Ron, there was Viktor-”
“Viktor Krum?”
“Yes, Viktor, who was too gentlemanly to do anything. And Cormac McLaggen, who I dumped because he wasn’t gentlemanly enough.”
“Cormac also plays professional Quidditch now, doesn’t he? Did you have a thing for Quidditch players or something?”
“They just tend to show up a lot in my life. But because things never lasted very long with those two, Ron’s probably told you he was my first boyfriend. He wasn’t.”
“Hmm, he did say that.”
“Anyways, during our three-year relationship, Ron cheated on me twice.”
“Twice?”
“The first time he’ll have told you about. Jeanine, some Muggle stripper he slept with when he was too drunk to know any better.”
“He did mention her, yes.”
“I found out immediately, he apologized to me on bended knee, and even said I could go out and sleep with somebody else to make us even. I don’t think he expected me to take him up on the offer. I don’t think he realizes I took him up on the offer, though he should have because I left immediately after he said it.”
“I think he said you left in anger, and came back the next day with a cooler head and took him back.”
“I didn’t come back until the next day because I was too busy sleeping with Charlie.”
“Charlie Weasley?”
“None other.”
“Is it true that … er …”
“Probably. Charlie was certainly a lot better in the sack than Ron ever was. Anyways, I had told him about Ron’s offer, he had found it amusing, we slept together. End of story. I went back to Ron the next morning.”
“And the second time?”
“The second time is trickier, especially as I’ve made sort of an unspoken promise not to ever mention it again. Ever. But if you’re going to marry Ron, you might as well know. I came home from work earlier one day, wanting to surprise Ron, and caught him in bed with … er, Harry.”
“Harry? Harry Harry?”
“Yes. I was furious. We had a horrible row, and Harry wasn’t spared. Things were very cold between the three of us, lots of nastiness all around although we kept it out of the press. By the end of the month, I had broken up with Ron, had slept with Harry, and we all decided never to mention the entire debacle again. Being friends was most important.”
“I’d … never heard this story before.”
“I’d be surprised if you had. That was … lessee … 2000. I met up with Viktor again later that year, and we had a couple of passionate nights together, but he lived in Bulgaria and I lived in England. Neither one of us felt like moving, so we parted on good terms. 2001 is, if you brush up on your Chinese zodiac, the year of the snake. Or, in my case, the year of the Slytherins. I slept with three different Slytherins that year.”
“I didn’t know about any of this.”
“You think I would tell Harry and Ron this stuff? First was Draco. Not so well-equipped, let me tell you, but he more than made up for it with experience.”
“Really? I had heard that Malfoy’s equipment was … er, more than satisfactory.”
“Draco spreads his own rumors about his equipment, love, in hopes that people will believe them. He was followed by Blaise Zabini, who is simply delectable. If you can put up with his arrogance, that is. The last Slytherin was, let’s see, it was going to be Professor Snape but I ended up shagging Terrence Higgs, whose equipment is satisfactory but whose technique was terrible. Slytherins make for brief relationships.”
“You seem to have slept around.”
“I know how to have fun.”
“You certainly don’t seem the type.”
“Appearances deceive. Then, there were a couple of one-night stands. Let me think… Terry Boot, Anthony Goldstein, Hannah Abbott-”
“Hannah Abbott?”
“It was an experiment. I also experimented with Fred and George.”
“Experimented?”
“Together.”
“Wha- Oh.”
“That about sums it up, I guess. I’ve been busy with work lately, so my personal life has suffered. Except for the occasional quick shag with Neville.”
“Oh.”
“Are you satisfied now? I assure you that I am in no way still pining over Ron.”
“Oh, I’m convinced now.”
“Then go on and meet up with your boyfriend. I’m going to have a couple of more drinks.”
“Alright, then. See you.”
“See you.”
…
…
…
“Is she gone yet?”
“Yes.”
“Finally. I didn’t think I could stand any more of her useless prattle. How does Weasley tolerate her, really.”
“I’m not sure. Either way, you owe me five galleons.”
“Yeah, yeah. I didn’t think she’d actually buy all that bull you stuffed down her throat.”
“I was convincing. And she’s gullible. Silly bint.”
“Is it all right that she thinks you’re a slut now?”
“Do I care what she thinks? Besides, as long as she doesn’t think I’m after Ron, she’s happy.”
“Some of that stuff you said must have been true, though.”
“I have no idea what you mean.”
“For example, few people know about Terrence Higg’s prowess, or rather, lack of it, in the sack.”
“Lucky guess, then.”
“Really?”
“Do you really think I’m going to tell you?”
“Don’t think I’ve forgotten that jibe about my equipment. Lacking, is it?”
“I was simply referring to the state of your-”
…
…
…
“Do you want to get a room?”
“I’m not too drunk to Apparate.”
Crack!
Finis.
Fandom: Naruto
Rating: PG
Summary: I knew going into the marriage that he loved another woman ... Shikamaru/Temari, Shikamaru/OFC
Everyone talks about it behind my back. How Shikamaru chose me because I was the most mediocre candidate out there, because I would feel honored to marry a ninja, because I would worship the ground he walked on (so not true!), because I was the only one who wouldn’t have noticed.
They’re wrong, of course. Not about the choosing part. God knows why he chose me. And I do respect him a great deal, but I certainly don’t worship him. And I do notice. He doesn’t sleep with a different girl each week, cheating on me as often as he can, as the rumors go. It’s only the one woman, whenever they have a chance. It is, after all, hard for me not to notice that my bed is empty on nights she is in town.
Not that I’m complaining. I knew going into the marriage that he loved another woman. And that first night, when he moved to leave, he did look to me for acknowledgement, just in case I had changed my mind. For the first time, that night, I saw his unguarded face as he asked for my permission. So I nodded slightly and turned away. It was not until I was sure he had left that I allowed myself to cry.
People in this town can be cruel; they seem to take great pleasure in stopping their conversations just as I approach, so I know that they were talking about me. Shikamaru’s close friends, his ninja friends, they understand that things are not what they seem. At first, they were wary. I was not a ninja, had never been a ninja, had never wanted to be a ninja, was only their friend through my husband, and they didn’t know if it was within their rights to gently let me know. They probably had a small gathering one of the nights Shikamaru was with her, and appointed Chouji.
One of my lonely nights early on, when I was newly pregnant with our first, Chouji came over and gave me some hot chocolate for the cold. “He shouldn’t leave you alone,” he said quietly.
“It’s alright,” I had smiled. “It’s only a few months. Soon, he will be suffocating me with attention.”
Chouji looked hesitant, then “You know, he’s-”
“I know.”
Chouji looked a little surprised. He didn’t insult my intelligence by verifying, though. We spent the rest of the night discussing possible names for the new baby. He made sure I was settled, before heading home.
I don’t know what he told them, but Ino stopped throwing me worried looks.
The first and only time Shikamaru and I discussed her was after the birth of our son, my firstborn. When he was a month old, and my husband had told me all about his life plans for our son, I turned to him. “She would like to see him,” I had said.
He had not denied it.
“Invite her over.” That had been an order.
The village buzzed with gossip for days. A visiting dignitary had actually paid a visit to my house, to see my baby. They didn’t know, had never known, who he cheated on me with. I had seen her before, at state functions, but this was the first time we had met face to face. She met my eyes without shame; Shikamaru never showed shame, either. There was no pity or guilt. Just … an objective assessment of me. I probably came up short.
We were cordial and courteous, and if any of us was the least bit discomfited, it was probably the baby, who was having stomach troubles. It was only later, when Shikamaru was putting the baby to sleep, that I asked her what I had been wondering since that first night, the night I cried.
“Why did you say no?” At her blank look, I added, “When he asked you to marry him.”
“He never asked,” she sad calmly.
“Why would you have said no?” Because he would have asked if she would have said yes. Shikamaru is smart.
“We’re from different villages,” she finally said. “He makes a wonderful Hidden Leaf shinobi, and I an equally good kunoichi of the Hidden Sand. We’re both needed. Neither of us can afford to leave our village. My brother needs me, and his friend needs him”
There was a short silence before Shikamaru came back in, probably having judged that the awkward conversation we were bound to have would have passed. We spent the rest of the evening companionably. As we were seeing her off, she turned to me. “I apologize,” she said formally, “for any trouble or difficulties I may have caused you. If you and yours should ever need help, I am at your service.”
And that was the last I saw of her for fifteen years. There was peace and little need for negotiations, and then a war, when everybody was too busy, and then the fear when the shadows stalked, and then the peace again when our Hokage defeated them. Occasionally, I saw her in the distance, but both she and Shikamaru were busy, and I never met her again. I only knew when she was in town by my husband’s absences.
The year young Ryuji turned fifteen, things began to run less smoothly. Ryuji came home from school with bloodied noses and black eyes, though rumor had it that his opponents invariably looked worse. He never told us what the fights were about, but I had an idea that first night Shikamaru had to bring him back before seeing her.
“He thought he could follow a ninja,” Shikamaru had chuckled. “He wasn’t bad.” But he wasn’t particularly good either, was implied. Not up to his usual standard.
Ryuji didn’t say anything, but the following nights I kept a close eye on him when Shikamaru left.
Finally, one night, he turned to me. “Where does he go?” he asked belligerently. “The villagers say …” and it all spilled out. How he beat up everyone who insinuated that Shikamaru cheated on me. How they made fun of him everyday.
“Ignore them,” I advised. “Focus on being a ninja. And see to it that your sister doesn’t have any similar trouble.”
The next time Shikamaru left on a mission to Suna, I told him what had transpired (which he already knew).
“You deal with it,” I concluded shortly.
“When I return,” had been his reply.
The mission lasted three months, far longer than he had thought it would take. When he finally returned, he was weary. If Ryuji had chosen any other day to confront his father, Shikamaru would’ve been kinder. The news might’ve been broken more gently.
I don’t know what transpired behind closed doors, but by the time father and son finished their conversation, Ryuji had fled. When Shikamaru emerged, he was haggard. “There will most likely be a public confrontation over this,” he warned me.
He was somewhat right. The confrontation was not quite public, nor was it exactly private. I still do not know what Shikamaru accomplished that three months he was gone, but he was officially recognized for it. The Sixth Hokage herself came to thank Shikamaru in a private visit. It was during this visit, while she and Shikamaru reminisced about their youth, that Ryuji barged in.
“You honor this man who broke his oath to his wife? Who left at night to sleep with whore after whore while his stupidly devoted wife waited at home completely oblivious to his deception, to the-”
SLAP!
Before I was aware of my actions, I had moved across the room and slapped my own son. “I,” I said coldly, “am your mother. You will not call me stupid. You will show me respect. You will also refrain from insulting your father. He deserves your respect, too.”
“But he-”
“You think I did not know? You, like the villagers, think I am blind? You think I was not aware of whose bed my husband slept in?”
“But why-”
“He had my leave, granted before marriage and continued after death. Your father broke no oath and did no dishonor. Do not speak of what you do not understand.”
“I don’t understand because you don’t explain!”
“You still would not understand because you are young. What know you of love and the pain when you cannot be with the one you love?”
“Doe …” he hesitated. “Doesn’t Father love you?”
“No,” I said simply. This I knew and would not deny. Shikamaru’s heart was not, had never been, and never would be mine. “But I love him and it is enough.”
“But I don’t understand.”
“Of course you don’t. You don’t even understand enough to keep private matters private.” I frowned. “Hokage, please excuse this scene-”
“It is nothing. And please call me Sakura.” She looked at me gravely. “You know, Shikamaru’s and Temari’s tale could have been one of tragedy.” She would know, she who had lost both of her teammates, both of the men she had loved. “Instead, there is happiness.”
I would like to say that all was well after that, but I’m afraid with our story that is well-nigh impossible. Ryuji has never quite forgiven Shikamaru, but I never quite forgave him. Temari came over for dinner one night at my invitation, and I ensured that Ryuji behaved. Life continued, as life does.
When Shikamaru died, and Ryuji and Shikako had both given me grandchildren, I visited Temari one more time. I traveled to Sunakagure, and we had tea. She was older now, wrinkled, but she still had that strength my husband had once loved. We spoke of trivial matters, and then she spoke.
“He was always worried about you, you know. Worried he was asking too much of you, that this would be asking too much of anyone.”
“It’s why he gave me children. Something to keep me from getting too depressed.”
“Probably.”
Silence.
“I hated sharing him with you, you know. Hated that he was rightfully yours, that you were his legal wife and he was legally your husband. I’m a very jealous person.”
“You didn’t hate it enough to want to marry him.”
“No. I wouldn’t have made a good wife. Though, we might have been happy. Until the first signs of war. It would have been … troublesome.”
We both exchanged smiles at that word.
“God, he was a lazy bum, wasn’t he.”
“Like none other. Did he ever tell you about his Chuunin exam-”
“When he just gave up? He never told me, but Ryuji found out about it one day and came home and asked me if it was true. And I had to find out.”
More silence.
“I’m dying,” I finally admitted. “I wanted to see you one last time. I … had an offer.”
Temari waited.
“When I die, of course, I will be buried at his side. But … he has two sides. If you wish, I could have it arranged so that when you died, you would be buried at his other side.” This was a great concession, and I did not make it because I was kind or magnanimous, or because I particularly liked Temari. I did it because it would be a kind of ending. A resolution.
“Thank you.”
Title: Tête a tête
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: R
Summary: When Ron's girlfriend decides that Hermione is encroaching on her territory, Hermione takes some time to set things straight.
“I suppose I should start at the very beginning. Before Ron, there was Viktor-”
“Viktor Krum?”
“Yes, Viktor, who was too gentlemanly to do anything. And Cormac McLaggen, who I dumped because he wasn’t gentlemanly enough.”
“Cormac also plays professional Quidditch now, doesn’t he? Did you have a thing for Quidditch players or something?”
“They just tend to show up a lot in my life. But because things never lasted very long with those two, Ron’s probably told you he was my first boyfriend. He wasn’t.”
“Hmm, he did say that.”
“Anyways, during our three-year relationship, Ron cheated on me twice.”
“Twice?”
“The first time he’ll have told you about. Jeanine, some Muggle stripper he slept with when he was too drunk to know any better.”
“He did mention her, yes.”
“I found out immediately, he apologized to me on bended knee, and even said I could go out and sleep with somebody else to make us even. I don’t think he expected me to take him up on the offer. I don’t think he realizes I took him up on the offer, though he should have because I left immediately after he said it.”
“I think he said you left in anger, and came back the next day with a cooler head and took him back.”
“I didn’t come back until the next day because I was too busy sleeping with Charlie.”
“Charlie Weasley?”
“None other.”
“Is it true that … er …”
“Probably. Charlie was certainly a lot better in the sack than Ron ever was. Anyways, I had told him about Ron’s offer, he had found it amusing, we slept together. End of story. I went back to Ron the next morning.”
“And the second time?”
“The second time is trickier, especially as I’ve made sort of an unspoken promise not to ever mention it again. Ever. But if you’re going to marry Ron, you might as well know. I came home from work earlier one day, wanting to surprise Ron, and caught him in bed with … er, Harry.”
“Harry? Harry Harry?”
“Yes. I was furious. We had a horrible row, and Harry wasn’t spared. Things were very cold between the three of us, lots of nastiness all around although we kept it out of the press. By the end of the month, I had broken up with Ron, had slept with Harry, and we all decided never to mention the entire debacle again. Being friends was most important.”
“I’d … never heard this story before.”
“I’d be surprised if you had. That was … lessee … 2000. I met up with Viktor again later that year, and we had a couple of passionate nights together, but he lived in Bulgaria and I lived in England. Neither one of us felt like moving, so we parted on good terms. 2001 is, if you brush up on your Chinese zodiac, the year of the snake. Or, in my case, the year of the Slytherins. I slept with three different Slytherins that year.”
“I didn’t know about any of this.”
“You think I would tell Harry and Ron this stuff? First was Draco. Not so well-equipped, let me tell you, but he more than made up for it with experience.”
“Really? I had heard that Malfoy’s equipment was … er, more than satisfactory.”
“Draco spreads his own rumors about his equipment, love, in hopes that people will believe them. He was followed by Blaise Zabini, who is simply delectable. If you can put up with his arrogance, that is. The last Slytherin was, let’s see, it was going to be Professor Snape but I ended up shagging Terrence Higgs, whose equipment is satisfactory but whose technique was terrible. Slytherins make for brief relationships.”
“You seem to have slept around.”
“I know how to have fun.”
“You certainly don’t seem the type.”
“Appearances deceive. Then, there were a couple of one-night stands. Let me think… Terry Boot, Anthony Goldstein, Hannah Abbott-”
“Hannah Abbott?”
“It was an experiment. I also experimented with Fred and George.”
“Experimented?”
“Together.”
“Wha- Oh.”
“That about sums it up, I guess. I’ve been busy with work lately, so my personal life has suffered. Except for the occasional quick shag with Neville.”
“Oh.”
“Are you satisfied now? I assure you that I am in no way still pining over Ron.”
“Oh, I’m convinced now.”
“Then go on and meet up with your boyfriend. I’m going to have a couple of more drinks.”
“Alright, then. See you.”
“See you.”
…
…
…
“Is she gone yet?”
“Yes.”
“Finally. I didn’t think I could stand any more of her useless prattle. How does Weasley tolerate her, really.”
“I’m not sure. Either way, you owe me five galleons.”
“Yeah, yeah. I didn’t think she’d actually buy all that bull you stuffed down her throat.”
“I was convincing. And she’s gullible. Silly bint.”
“Is it all right that she thinks you’re a slut now?”
“Do I care what she thinks? Besides, as long as she doesn’t think I’m after Ron, she’s happy.”
“Some of that stuff you said must have been true, though.”
“I have no idea what you mean.”
“For example, few people know about Terrence Higg’s prowess, or rather, lack of it, in the sack.”
“Lucky guess, then.”
“Really?”
“Do you really think I’m going to tell you?”
“Don’t think I’ve forgotten that jibe about my equipment. Lacking, is it?”
“I was simply referring to the state of your-”
…
…
…
“Do you want to get a room?”
“I’m not too drunk to Apparate.”
Crack!
Finis.
