200 ficlet #7 - Peter & McGonagall
Sep. 14th, 2004 02:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pauraque_bkFor ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
maidenjedi, who requested a fic about Peter and McGonagall, just after the boys have mastered the change. (She also wanted it to take place in Transfiguration class, which it originally did, but I re-worked it a few times, and, well... I forgot that was part of the request. So sorry!)
G, gen, 265 words.
Silvestris
It's early for breakfast, but better to be seen there than sneaking back to the dormitory at this hour, so the three of them make their way towards the Great Hall, yawning and rumpled and rubbing their backs. The corridor smells of early-morning mist, of recently extinguished torches.
Peter caught a second wind as they were leaving the Shack, but now he's just tired, sore from the change. His eyes feel dry and gritty; he rubs them with the back of his wrist. He envies Remus, curled up fast asleep.
McGonagall turns the corner ahead of them, heels clicking smartly. James and Sirius hesitate for a moment-- but then, without a word, press on more confidently than before, wearing bland and saintly expressions.
She raises a sceptical eyebrow at them, pausing at the Hall doors. Peter's always been a bit afraid of her, and it's only been getting worse... her eyes make him cold and dreadful deep down in his gut, make him want to duck his head and run, hide in the shadows of the suits of armour along the wall. Green irises rayed like stars, and blackhole pupils wet and gleaming--
Sirius punches him in the arm.
'Quit looking so nervous,' James hisses in his ear on the other side.
McGonagall holds the door for them-- a murmured comment that they're up very early today, aren't they? They head up the aisle, and Peter can still feel her eyes at his back, and it twists him up inside like when he feels the sharp and hungry looks of the caretaker's twin orange cats.
end.
Feedback is a thing of beauty.
maidenjedi, who requested a fic about Peter and McGonagall, just after the boys have mastered the change. (She also wanted it to take place in Transfiguration class, which it originally did, but I re-worked it a few times, and, well... I forgot that was part of the request. So sorry!)G, gen, 265 words.
Silvestris
It's early for breakfast, but better to be seen there than sneaking back to the dormitory at this hour, so the three of them make their way towards the Great Hall, yawning and rumpled and rubbing their backs. The corridor smells of early-morning mist, of recently extinguished torches.
Peter caught a second wind as they were leaving the Shack, but now he's just tired, sore from the change. His eyes feel dry and gritty; he rubs them with the back of his wrist. He envies Remus, curled up fast asleep.
McGonagall turns the corner ahead of them, heels clicking smartly. James and Sirius hesitate for a moment-- but then, without a word, press on more confidently than before, wearing bland and saintly expressions.
She raises a sceptical eyebrow at them, pausing at the Hall doors. Peter's always been a bit afraid of her, and it's only been getting worse... her eyes make him cold and dreadful deep down in his gut, make him want to duck his head and run, hide in the shadows of the suits of armour along the wall. Green irises rayed like stars, and blackhole pupils wet and gleaming--
Sirius punches him in the arm.
'Quit looking so nervous,' James hisses in his ear on the other side.
McGonagall holds the door for them-- a murmured comment that they're up very early today, aren't they? They head up the aisle, and Peter can still feel her eyes at his back, and it twists him up inside like when he feels the sharp and hungry looks of the caretaker's twin orange cats.
end.
Feedback is a thing of beauty.
