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mini_festTitle: Corporeally Challenged
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
enchanted_jae
Pairing(s): Fred/Myrtle
Prompt: Ghostly New Year's kisses. Lighthearted and fluffy. Potential for a ghost version of any character that died in the Battle of Hogwarts--or just Peeves.
Word Count/Art Medium: 800
Rating: PG
Contains (Highlight to view): *Bit of melancholy*
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: Many thanks torobinellen for the beta!
Summary: It's New Year's Eve, and Myrtle is bored.
Myrtle floated aimlessly through the corridors of the drafty old castle. It was the hols, and most of the students had gone home to be with their families. Those that remained were more subdued than usual, in large part because the war had taken a toll on everyone.
Parts of the castle were still being repaired, including Myrtle's bathroom. She didn't like all of the noise and commotion, and she especially didn't like some of the changes the workmen were trying to make. Myrtle would often rant at them until they fled in terror.
Christmas had come and gone, and this was the last night of the year. Tomorrow would begin a new year, and the students would return soon after. Perhaps everyone would be in better spirits. Myrtle giggled at her own, internalized joke. The war had been awful, but at least now she had more friends who were as corporeally challenged as she was.
The Creevey boy enjoyed spying on the castle's living inhabitants with Myrtle, although he often bemoaned his inability to wield a camera during their voyeuristic expeditions. The Weasley boy was as fond of pranks in the afterlife as he'd been in life, and he was threatening to supplant Peeves as Hogwarts' most reviled spirit. Myrtle found his pranks delightfully amusing, except when they were turned on her. Still, it was fun to be included in his mischief.
Professor Lupin and his wife flitted about the castle, keeping watch over the students and occasionally assisting with Defense Against the Dark Arts. Students took that class much more seriously than they had in the past, and with good reason. Most of them had been in the thick of the war when the battle came to Hogwarts.
Myrtle floated near the ceiling as she traversed the corridors, intent on reaching the Prefects' bathroom. She enjoyed spying on the amorous couples who liked to occupy it now and then. Myrtle stuck her head through the wall and sighed in disappointment. The room was empty but for the flirtatious mermaid holding court in her stained glass window.
Myrtle entered the bathroom completely and made a few lazy turns over the bath. She circled lower and lower until she was able to trail her fingers through the bubbles. Some of them popped, but most remained unfazed by Myrtle's ghostly touch. She wished she could sink into the water and feel the frothy bubbles tickling her skin. Being a ghost had its disadvantages.
A translucent hand shot out of the water and seized Myrtle's wrist in a chilling grip. She screamed and flailed and somersaulted through the air. Fred Weasley emerged from the water and laughed uproariously at his prank.
Myrtle's expression twisted into a snarl. "Freddie Weasley, if I weren't already dead, you'd have scared me to death!" she ranted.
Fred arranged himself in the tub as if he were taking a bath. "You should have seen the look on your face," he said, chuckling. Fred stretched his arms out along the edges of the tub and smiled at Myrtle. "Come join me," he invited.
Myrtle swooped closer, but she remained safely out of his reach. "What good will it do me?" she snapped. "I can't feel the water."
"No, but we can pretend, can't we?" Fred coaxed. "I always did want to try out the Prefects' bath."
Myrtle had always yearned to sneak in here and bathe while alive too. Instead, she had died in a regular, mundane old bathroom. Life wasn't fair, and neither was death, it would seem. Myrtle sighed unhappily before a smirk flitted across her face. She whooped once and dove into the water, creating a splash before she surfaced next to Fred. Myrtle sidled closer. "It's New Year's Eve, Freddie," she cooed. "I'm bored."
"I am too," said Fred. "Peeves-baiting grows old after awhile. I wish George was here."
"It's just you and me, Freddie."
Fred turned his head to reply when the clock began to chime. "It's midnight," he said. Fred brushed his cold lips over Myrtle's and whispered, "Happy New Year, Myrtle."
Myrtle blinked at him rapidly. Her lips still tingled from the brief contact, and she brought her fingertips up to gently press her mouth. "Why did you do that?"
Fred smiled at her. "Tradition, old girl," he replied. "I haven't missed a New Year's kiss since the age of thirteen. What about you?"
"I-I never shared a New Year's kiss before," admitted Myrtle.
"Never?" cried Fred. He grinned before leaning forward once more. "Let's make it one to remember then, shall we?"
Author:
enchanted_jaePairing(s): Fred/Myrtle
Prompt: Ghostly New Year's kisses. Lighthearted and fluffy. Potential for a ghost version of any character that died in the Battle of Hogwarts--or just Peeves.
Word Count/Art Medium: 800
Rating: PG
Contains (Highlight to view): *Bit of melancholy*
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: Many thanks to
robinellen for the beta!Summary: It's New Year's Eve, and Myrtle is bored.
Myrtle floated aimlessly through the corridors of the drafty old castle. It was the hols, and most of the students had gone home to be with their families. Those that remained were more subdued than usual, in large part because the war had taken a toll on everyone.
Parts of the castle were still being repaired, including Myrtle's bathroom. She didn't like all of the noise and commotion, and she especially didn't like some of the changes the workmen were trying to make. Myrtle would often rant at them until they fled in terror.
Christmas had come and gone, and this was the last night of the year. Tomorrow would begin a new year, and the students would return soon after. Perhaps everyone would be in better spirits. Myrtle giggled at her own, internalized joke. The war had been awful, but at least now she had more friends who were as corporeally challenged as she was.
The Creevey boy enjoyed spying on the castle's living inhabitants with Myrtle, although he often bemoaned his inability to wield a camera during their voyeuristic expeditions. The Weasley boy was as fond of pranks in the afterlife as he'd been in life, and he was threatening to supplant Peeves as Hogwarts' most reviled spirit. Myrtle found his pranks delightfully amusing, except when they were turned on her. Still, it was fun to be included in his mischief.
Professor Lupin and his wife flitted about the castle, keeping watch over the students and occasionally assisting with Defense Against the Dark Arts. Students took that class much more seriously than they had in the past, and with good reason. Most of them had been in the thick of the war when the battle came to Hogwarts.
Myrtle floated near the ceiling as she traversed the corridors, intent on reaching the Prefects' bathroom. She enjoyed spying on the amorous couples who liked to occupy it now and then. Myrtle stuck her head through the wall and sighed in disappointment. The room was empty but for the flirtatious mermaid holding court in her stained glass window.
Myrtle entered the bathroom completely and made a few lazy turns over the bath. She circled lower and lower until she was able to trail her fingers through the bubbles. Some of them popped, but most remained unfazed by Myrtle's ghostly touch. She wished she could sink into the water and feel the frothy bubbles tickling her skin. Being a ghost had its disadvantages.
A translucent hand shot out of the water and seized Myrtle's wrist in a chilling grip. She screamed and flailed and somersaulted through the air. Fred Weasley emerged from the water and laughed uproariously at his prank.
Myrtle's expression twisted into a snarl. "Freddie Weasley, if I weren't already dead, you'd have scared me to death!" she ranted.
Fred arranged himself in the tub as if he were taking a bath. "You should have seen the look on your face," he said, chuckling. Fred stretched his arms out along the edges of the tub and smiled at Myrtle. "Come join me," he invited.
Myrtle swooped closer, but she remained safely out of his reach. "What good will it do me?" she snapped. "I can't feel the water."
"No, but we can pretend, can't we?" Fred coaxed. "I always did want to try out the Prefects' bath."
Myrtle had always yearned to sneak in here and bathe while alive too. Instead, she had died in a regular, mundane old bathroom. Life wasn't fair, and neither was death, it would seem. Myrtle sighed unhappily before a smirk flitted across her face. She whooped once and dove into the water, creating a splash before she surfaced next to Fred. Myrtle sidled closer. "It's New Year's Eve, Freddie," she cooed. "I'm bored."
"I am too," said Fred. "Peeves-baiting grows old after awhile. I wish George was here."
"It's just you and me, Freddie."
Fred turned his head to reply when the clock began to chime. "It's midnight," he said. Fred brushed his cold lips over Myrtle's and whispered, "Happy New Year, Myrtle."
Myrtle blinked at him rapidly. Her lips still tingled from the brief contact, and she brought her fingertips up to gently press her mouth. "Why did you do that?"
Fred smiled at her. "Tradition, old girl," he replied. "I haven't missed a New Year's kiss since the age of thirteen. What about you?"
"I-I never shared a New Year's kiss before," admitted Myrtle.
"Never?" cried Fred. He grinned before leaning forward once more. "Let's make it one to remember then, shall we?"
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Date: 2014-12-08 05:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-01-15 12:06 am (UTC)