Post by Pingpongfreak on Jul 16, 2007 22:36:30 GMT -5
Title: Moments of Sanity
Summary: Closet snogging. Multiple HP pairings. A singing blue fish. Need I say more? A response to the crack!fic challenge.
Rating: PG-13 I suppose..
This is my first MMAD fanfic, so tell me what you think! Special thanks to my beta and lesbian wife, Haley.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“When I was young, I never needed anyone
And making love was just for fun
Those days are gone
”Living alone, I think of all the friends I've known
But when I dial the telephone
Nobody's home…
All by myself, don’t wanna be
All by myself...anymoooore-“
TAP
TAP
TAP
The little blue body shook with the vibrations of a long, skinny finger tapping on the fishbowl, followed by a pair of large, bloodshot green eyes and a furrowed brow. The terrified little fish instantly retreated to his castle, poking an eye through one of the windows.
“Honestly, Pushkin, it’s three in the morning,” the elderly woman said exasperatedly, “Normal people aren’t accustomed to having a fish singing at the top of their gills!”
Pushkin looked at her as though he’d been slapped.
Minerva rubbed her eyes and padded her way back to her bed. Lifting the patchwork comforter and cotton sheets, she snuggled back underneath them, taking in the scent of her freshly laundered bed dressings. A combination of lavender and pine; the lavender being soap and the pine being the outdoors in which her laundry hung to dry. She nuzzled her head into her goose-feather pillow, pulling the covers tightly over her shoulders. The light rustling of the outdoors was all that could be heard as her eyelids grew heavy…
A faint humming was coming from the fishbowl.
She turned onto her side, pulling the covers slightly over her ears. She didn’t want to leave the lull of her light sleep just yet. Maybe if she just tuned him out…
The humming grew louder.
She tossed onto her stomach, pulling the goose-feather pillow over her head. Surely this wouldn’t last too much longer. For Merlin sake, the fish had to sleep sometime…
“Nobody’s home…
“All by myself, don’t wanna be,
All by myself, anymoooore-“
“PUSHKIN, PLEASE!”
All fell silent.
Restraining from grinding her teeth into oblivion, she eased back down into the covers, her eyes slowly coming to a close…
A faint humming came from the fishbowl once again.
Minerva shot up in her bed, her head whirling around to glare at the fishbowl. She threw the covers off her legs, stumbling out of bed and marching over to the fishbowl in a ball of sleep-deprived frustration.
“WHAT DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND ABOUT THE CONCEPT OF SLEEP?” the pair of bloodshot eyes yelled, causing Pushkin to once again retreat to his castle.
“Don’t you go behind that castle, you come here and look at me!”
He slowly peered around a corner of his castle.
“Come on, if I’m going to yell at you, I’m going to yell at you properly!”
Head down, he cautiously swam into eyesight, his eyes slowly traveling upward to meet her bloodshot green ones. She raised a finger, pointing it directly at him (causing him to flinch), and opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
Regaining her composure, she sighed. “Now dear, I know you like to sing, but I like to sleep. And when I don’t sleep, I can’t focus properly. Do you understand?”
He nodded, his eyes averting to the tiny pebbles beneath him.
She closed her eyes for a moment, then grimaced. She didn’t want to upset him, he really had done nothing wrong seeing as he was, indeed, a singing fish, but she was exhausted. He really was a good little fish, and she quite enjoyed his company, but the singing long hours into the night just wouldn’t do, and she knew casting a muffling charm would only hurt his feelings further. She opened her eyes and gave him a tired smile, causing him to perk up a bit. Slipping on her night robes and slippers, she gently raised his fishbowl and left the room.
“Orange goggles,” she muttered to the statue, hopping onto the flight of stairs that seemed to emerge out of nowhere. Pushkin swam around excitedly in his fishbowl as they ascended. As Minerva reached for the doorknocker, the door swung open.
A slightly disheveled Albus Dumbledore stood in the doorway, closing his night robes over his torso. “Minerva, what are you doing awake, it’s-“
“Three o’clock in the morning, yes, I know, thank you,” she replied shortly. “May I come in?”
Albus thought for a moment, then gave a small smile. “Indeed, my dear, if you are in desperate need of assistance, I would be more than happy to-“
“Albus, that’s not what I was referring to.”
He paused for a second time. “Of course you weren’t, and nor was I...”
“I’m sure,” she replied with a smirk, brushing past him and into his office. She placed the fishbowl on his desk and settled herself in his chair, while Albus took the chair opposite her. As soon as his eyes fell upon Pushkin, he smiled warmly and reached toward the fishbowl, waving with his finger. Pushkin beamed and swam toward his finger.
“Ah, Pushkin-“
“Yes, Pushkin.”
Albus looked up from the little blue fish and noticed the dark circles under her drooping eyes. Minerva sighed.
“Albus, he’s a lovely gift, and I do so enjoy his company, but I just-“
“Can’t sleep,” he finished her sentence with a chuckle.
She shook her head.
“And it’s such a shame too, he really is a good little fish,” she said.
Albus smiled. “It’s quite alright,” he said, still admiring Pushkin, “I had a feeling this would happen. Truthfully, I’m quite fond of him myself. I gave him to you in the full knowledge that if he did not remain with you, he would be sent back to me.”
Minerva watched as Albus entertained himself with the silly little creature, watching Pushkin follow his finger and swim in circles. She would’ve felt bad for his patronization of the fish, but Pushkin seemed to be enjoying himself just as much as Albus. She felt a smile grow on her face at the little laughs and noises of approval Albus gave when the fish would do something new (he especially liked watching Pushkin flip). Here he was, Albus Dumbledore, the greatest sorcerer in the world, ogling and fawning over a silly little blue fish.
“Well,” Minerva said after a few silent minutes of fish-entertainment, “I hope you know he’s not all yours. I will be exercising my rights to visitation.”
“Of course.”
She rose from his chair and pulled her robes tight. “I’d better be going, if I’m going to get any sleep at all tonight.”
“Going so soon?”
“Albus Dumbledore, it’s-“
“Three in the morning, yes.” He rose as well, holding out his arm. “May I walk you to the door?”
“Oh honestly, Albus, it’s five feet away-“
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, taking her hand in his and walking her to the staircase. She found it hard to suppress her smile this time.
When they reached the staircase, Minerva turned to face him, noticing a magnificent twinkle in his eye. She placed a hand on his shoulder and turned to walk down the stairs.
He coughed rather loudly.
She turned to look at him. ‘Honestly,’ she thought.
Returning to the top of the staircase, she walked toward him until they were toe-to-toe. She gave a small smile, gently placing both her hands on his cheeks, and placed a soft kiss on his lips.
“Goodnight, Albus.”
She made her way down the staircase once more.
“You know, Minerva,” he called as she was halfway down, “You don’t necessarily have to return to your-“
“GOODNIGHT, Albus.”
Summary: Closet snogging. Multiple HP pairings. A singing blue fish. Need I say more? A response to the crack!fic challenge.
Rating: PG-13 I suppose..
This is my first MMAD fanfic, so tell me what you think! Special thanks to my beta and lesbian wife, Haley.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“When I was young, I never needed anyone
And making love was just for fun
Those days are gone
”Living alone, I think of all the friends I've known
But when I dial the telephone
Nobody's home…
All by myself, don’t wanna be
All by myself...anymoooore-“
TAP
TAP
TAP
The little blue body shook with the vibrations of a long, skinny finger tapping on the fishbowl, followed by a pair of large, bloodshot green eyes and a furrowed brow. The terrified little fish instantly retreated to his castle, poking an eye through one of the windows.
“Honestly, Pushkin, it’s three in the morning,” the elderly woman said exasperatedly, “Normal people aren’t accustomed to having a fish singing at the top of their gills!”
Pushkin looked at her as though he’d been slapped.
Minerva rubbed her eyes and padded her way back to her bed. Lifting the patchwork comforter and cotton sheets, she snuggled back underneath them, taking in the scent of her freshly laundered bed dressings. A combination of lavender and pine; the lavender being soap and the pine being the outdoors in which her laundry hung to dry. She nuzzled her head into her goose-feather pillow, pulling the covers tightly over her shoulders. The light rustling of the outdoors was all that could be heard as her eyelids grew heavy…
A faint humming was coming from the fishbowl.
She turned onto her side, pulling the covers slightly over her ears. She didn’t want to leave the lull of her light sleep just yet. Maybe if she just tuned him out…
The humming grew louder.
She tossed onto her stomach, pulling the goose-feather pillow over her head. Surely this wouldn’t last too much longer. For Merlin sake, the fish had to sleep sometime…
“Nobody’s home…
“All by myself, don’t wanna be,
All by myself, anymoooore-“
“PUSHKIN, PLEASE!”
All fell silent.
Restraining from grinding her teeth into oblivion, she eased back down into the covers, her eyes slowly coming to a close…
A faint humming came from the fishbowl once again.
Minerva shot up in her bed, her head whirling around to glare at the fishbowl. She threw the covers off her legs, stumbling out of bed and marching over to the fishbowl in a ball of sleep-deprived frustration.
“WHAT DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND ABOUT THE CONCEPT OF SLEEP?” the pair of bloodshot eyes yelled, causing Pushkin to once again retreat to his castle.
“Don’t you go behind that castle, you come here and look at me!”
He slowly peered around a corner of his castle.
“Come on, if I’m going to yell at you, I’m going to yell at you properly!”
Head down, he cautiously swam into eyesight, his eyes slowly traveling upward to meet her bloodshot green ones. She raised a finger, pointing it directly at him (causing him to flinch), and opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
Regaining her composure, she sighed. “Now dear, I know you like to sing, but I like to sleep. And when I don’t sleep, I can’t focus properly. Do you understand?”
He nodded, his eyes averting to the tiny pebbles beneath him.
She closed her eyes for a moment, then grimaced. She didn’t want to upset him, he really had done nothing wrong seeing as he was, indeed, a singing fish, but she was exhausted. He really was a good little fish, and she quite enjoyed his company, but the singing long hours into the night just wouldn’t do, and she knew casting a muffling charm would only hurt his feelings further. She opened her eyes and gave him a tired smile, causing him to perk up a bit. Slipping on her night robes and slippers, she gently raised his fishbowl and left the room.
“Orange goggles,” she muttered to the statue, hopping onto the flight of stairs that seemed to emerge out of nowhere. Pushkin swam around excitedly in his fishbowl as they ascended. As Minerva reached for the doorknocker, the door swung open.
A slightly disheveled Albus Dumbledore stood in the doorway, closing his night robes over his torso. “Minerva, what are you doing awake, it’s-“
“Three o’clock in the morning, yes, I know, thank you,” she replied shortly. “May I come in?”
Albus thought for a moment, then gave a small smile. “Indeed, my dear, if you are in desperate need of assistance, I would be more than happy to-“
“Albus, that’s not what I was referring to.”
He paused for a second time. “Of course you weren’t, and nor was I...”
“I’m sure,” she replied with a smirk, brushing past him and into his office. She placed the fishbowl on his desk and settled herself in his chair, while Albus took the chair opposite her. As soon as his eyes fell upon Pushkin, he smiled warmly and reached toward the fishbowl, waving with his finger. Pushkin beamed and swam toward his finger.
“Ah, Pushkin-“
“Yes, Pushkin.”
Albus looked up from the little blue fish and noticed the dark circles under her drooping eyes. Minerva sighed.
“Albus, he’s a lovely gift, and I do so enjoy his company, but I just-“
“Can’t sleep,” he finished her sentence with a chuckle.
She shook her head.
“And it’s such a shame too, he really is a good little fish,” she said.
Albus smiled. “It’s quite alright,” he said, still admiring Pushkin, “I had a feeling this would happen. Truthfully, I’m quite fond of him myself. I gave him to you in the full knowledge that if he did not remain with you, he would be sent back to me.”
Minerva watched as Albus entertained himself with the silly little creature, watching Pushkin follow his finger and swim in circles. She would’ve felt bad for his patronization of the fish, but Pushkin seemed to be enjoying himself just as much as Albus. She felt a smile grow on her face at the little laughs and noises of approval Albus gave when the fish would do something new (he especially liked watching Pushkin flip). Here he was, Albus Dumbledore, the greatest sorcerer in the world, ogling and fawning over a silly little blue fish.
“Well,” Minerva said after a few silent minutes of fish-entertainment, “I hope you know he’s not all yours. I will be exercising my rights to visitation.”
“Of course.”
She rose from his chair and pulled her robes tight. “I’d better be going, if I’m going to get any sleep at all tonight.”
“Going so soon?”
“Albus Dumbledore, it’s-“
“Three in the morning, yes.” He rose as well, holding out his arm. “May I walk you to the door?”
“Oh honestly, Albus, it’s five feet away-“
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, taking her hand in his and walking her to the staircase. She found it hard to suppress her smile this time.
When they reached the staircase, Minerva turned to face him, noticing a magnificent twinkle in his eye. She placed a hand on his shoulder and turned to walk down the stairs.
He coughed rather loudly.
She turned to look at him. ‘Honestly,’ she thought.
Returning to the top of the staircase, she walked toward him until they were toe-to-toe. She gave a small smile, gently placing both her hands on his cheeks, and placed a soft kiss on his lips.
“Goodnight, Albus.”
She made her way down the staircase once more.
“You know, Minerva,” he called as she was halfway down, “You don’t necessarily have to return to your-“
“GOODNIGHT, Albus.”
