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A completely different Harry Potter Mary Sue, because, well, they're fun and easy to write, and I'm behind already.
I did not *intend* for this to be femmeslash-really-but once I brought in the Fritz Lieber crossover they refused to behave.
"A bath probably would be a good idea," Parvati said, patting the girl's matted hair. "What do you think, dear? A bath?"
She looked wordlessly up at Parvati.
"Yeah," said Lavender ruefully. "I'll go up and get a brush and stuff and a nightgown to put her in after."
"We'll wait," said Parvati, then she turned to the girl. "C'mon, we're going to visit the prefect's bathroom! I've heard it's a fount of luxury." she sighed dramatically, then tried to pull the other into a standing position, lifting her by the shoulders.
She slumped limply in Parvati's arms and squeaked, and collapsed back to the floor the minute she was let go.
Parvati tried again, hoisting her under the arms this time, but she refused to put weight on her legs, as if she didn't know how to stand up. "Come on," Parvati muttered, "I know you can walk." But when she let go, the girl immediately dropped down to hands and feet, the cloak falling open.
"Maybe she can't," said Lavender, coming down the stairs with her arms full of supplies. "If she really has been an animal for a long time, she might have forgotten how, right."
"What are we going to do, then? It's two flights of stairs. And I'm not trying to wash her in the dorm showers."
"Well . . . maybe Mobilicorpus? Did you get that to work in Flitwick's class last term? Here, you hold her up, and I'll cast the spell." She shoved the nightdress into her other arm and ruffled in her pockets for her wand.
"But what if it scares her?" Parvati asked as she obediently lifted the blond girl into a standing position again.
"Then I'll do a finite incantatem and we'll think of something else," Lavender said. "Keep her still so I don't hit you instead." She lifted her wand and said the spell.
The stranger made an odd meeping noise but stayed calm, so Parvati let go and moved away; she hung eerily in the air for a second, then wiggled her toes and giggled.
Lavender sighed in relief. "Looks like it's going to work. You take my wand and guide her down, and I'll come after and take the stuff."
"Right," said Parvati, taking over the spell with a look of intense concentration, and led them out into the halls and down the stairs.
"Which way to the girls' prefects' bathroom?" Lavender hissed once they'd made it to the fourth floor.
"Third door on the right, behind the statue of Bridget the Boring," replied Parvati, "Padma showed me once when she was trying to make me jealous-- shush!" She froze pointing down the hall, where Mrs. Norris' eyes had appeared, glowing with menace.
Lavender glanced over and stopped as well; they watched, wide-eyed with fear, as the caretaker's evil-tempered cat sauntered down the hall and stopped before them, tail twitching.
The strange blond girl had taken most of this with equanimity, following their movements with here eye, but at the sight of the cat she shivered, then stiffened. Mrs. Norris peered at her appraisingly, then mewed.
She started in suprise, and meeped back. Mrs. Norris, apparently satisfied, gave Lavender and Parvati a stern look, then wound herself around the stranger's ankles before continuing on her way.
"What was that?" Lavender asked.
"I have no idea," replied Parvati. "But look-- there's the door. Lauryl Sulphate," she enunciated, and the portal opened.
The three of them slipped inside, and Lavender turned to bolt the door behind them. The girls' prefects bathroom was a palatial room of black marble veined with green. Deep blue carpets covered the parts of the floor that wasn't taken up by a deeply sunken empty pool, a ledge around the inside for seating. Decadent lounges, piled high with jewel-toned towels, lined the walls, and dozens of silvery black taps lined the pool. Torchieres gave the room a soft, romantic light, and in a single mahogany-framed portrait a muscular, round-bellied merman shifted restlessly in his sleep.
"Okay," Parvati said, breaking a moment's silence. "Now I'm jealous."
"That's-- yes," Lavender replied, dropping her armload of toiletries on a lounge and wandering dazedly over to the side of the pool. She turned on one of the taps and got soft, creamy foam flowing with warm water. "Do you suppose they're all different?"
"Probably," Parvati replied, handing Lavender back her wand and pulling her own out. "Let's see," she cast a spell meant for helping to organize makeup cases, and tiny pink labels appeared over the taps. "Aloe, flitterbloom, calendula, rosewater, exfoliant, Mrs. Skower's Moisturizing Unguent-- uggh, my grandmother uses that-- coconut, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor, lemongrass--"
Lavender shuddered. "Try just one or two, please."
"Valerian for calming and lavender for beauty?" she asked, looking back over her shoulder.
Lavender fluttered her eyelashes, flattered. "Perfect."
While the bath was filling with hot water (surprisingly quickly, given its size) they busied themselves piling combs, brushes, soaps and towels at the edge. Then they turned to look at the blond girl, who had been left curled up on an empty lounge.
"How are we going to do this?" asked Parvati.
Lavender glanced around the room and put on an expression of exaggerated resignation. "Parvati, I don't see any other way, we're going to have to get in with her."
Parvati giggled, but stopped as Lavender pulled off her robes, then her chemise, and kicked off her knickers and slippers.
Lavender turned back. "What? Parvati, we use the same showers, you've seen me naked before."
"Yes, but it's different in a place like this."
"Mm-hmm," Lavender said as she slid slowly into the water. "That's the best part." She closed her eyes blissfully at the touch of the perfumed water, perfect body temperature. "Hand her down to me, and get in yourself."
Parvati blinked, then started moving again. "Right." She pulled the blond girl off the lounge, disrobed her, and with a shaky Mobilicorpus of her own sent her into Lavender's arms.
She wriggled at getting wet, but Lavender kept a firm grip on her and sat her carefully on the ledge, waist-deep in water, and she seemed satisfied to play at smacking her hands against the bubbles, so Lavender turned back to Parvati. "Well? Come on, it's wonderful."
Parvati gulped, and slowly moved her fingers to the clasp of her robe, opened it and let it fall; then, determined, she flipped her long raven-colored braid back over her shoulder and bent to undo her shoes and socks, her loose silk chemise falling away from her breasts. When she'd bared her feet she straightened to find Lavender staring at her. "What?"
"Umm, nothing," Lavender said. "Hurry up and get in, would you?"
"Right," she said again, and pulled off her underthings and dropped lightly into the bath beside the others.
Lavender was now staring grimly at the former rat. "What do you think?" she said. "Hair first?"
Parvati batted the knotted, grimy tangle away from her face. "I'd say so."
"Okay. You hold her up from the front, I'll take the comb and try to deal with this mess."
They shifted her down from the seat; she still didn't seem to have the hang of standing up on her own, but with the support of the water Parvati could keep her balanced with just a gentle hand to either side of her chest. She was much shorter than either of the other girls, although she her womanly curves were more than ample, as they'd been unable to avoid noticing, and Parvati could easily watch over her as Lavender began to work a comb through her hair.
She had tensed up noticeably when she was pulled all the way in to the water, and Parvati started humming an old song her mother had used to comfort her as a child. That seemed to work, as she relaxed into Parvati's hold-- either that, or the gentle motion of Lavender's hands in her hair. Parvati watched those hands as Lavender worked, carefully washing out the dirt, working through the tangles.
It soon became apparent that the girl's hair, when clean, was the color of palest gold, fine as silk, and as long as Parvati's, which had never been cut. Parvati had been caring for her own hair since she was a tiny girl and had shoved away her mother's ungentle fingers, declaring proudly that she could do it herself. But Lavender's work was so tender and sensitive, motion as smooth and fine as the hair itself, that it could be nothing but pure pleasure; Parvati tried to imagine Lavender combing her hair, the sensual feel of those fingers moving through it, white skin looking so much paler against black than blonde . . .
"Parvati? What are you singing? It's so beautiful."
"Oh, um, it's just an old Hindu song my mum used to sing when I was a baby," Parvati said, embarrassed. "I thought it might reassure her a little."
"I sure it will. You should sing more often, Parvati; your voice is really sweet."
"Er," said Parvati, "I don't sing well at all, actually." She stopped.
Lavender clucked her tongue, drawing out another knot of blond hair. "Fine, then, if you won't sing. Tell me what the song was about in English. I like listening to your voice while I work."
"It's just an old hymn to Radha. She was Krishna's lover and he fought the demon Rakshashas to save her. She sort of represents true love, the kind that goes beyond just men and women."
"Hmm," Lavender said, then repeated, "Radha. I like that name. And you know, we can't keep calling her 'girl.' What do you think?"
"Lavender! Everyone will just shorten it to Rat!"
Lavender grinned. "So? Just makes it easier to remember." She tucked a lank of hair behind the girl's ear, and leaned down to whisper into it, "What do you think, girl? Do you like Radha as a name?"
The girl wriggled happily; less from any excitement over the name, Parvati thought with bad grace, than from the sensation of Lavender's breath against her neck. It was enough that Parvati lost her hold and the girl-- all right, Radha-- slipped sideways a little into the water before Parvati awkwardly caught her.
"All right there?" she muttered, as she shifted her hold a little. Then she paused, as her fingers felt something odd. There was round, pointed bump on her ribcage just below her breast. Parvati felt it carefully; it almost felt like, well, a nipple. She blushed at the thought but it didn't stop her from exploring the other side; and yes, it had a matching partner. Curious, she balanced with one hand and with the other delicately touched down her belly, hidden by the foamy water. There were six more of them in all, two prim rows leading down to just above the soft mound of hair.
She straightened back up. "Lavender, I don't believe it--" she said, then stopped, suddenly noticing several things. First, that Radha had been leaning into her hands and making purring noises, and was now reaching a delicate paw to touch Parvati's chest in return. Second, that Lavender was staring at her with the queerest expression on her face, and Lavender's own breasts were very white and round, with pink pointed nipples, and Lavender's mouth was only a very few inches apart from hers, and closing the distance fast.
And then they were kissing. She was kissing Lavender, and really, why bother thinking, because it was wonderful and gentle and perfect, and she was so warm and soft but with a core of absolute still-- steel conducted magic, right? Padma would know, but anyway kissing did, because this was sending little shivery sparks of it all through her body. Much better than that French boy what's-his-name in fourth year, better than the time she'd snogged Anthony because he was going out with Padma, even better that Roger Davies had been behind the broom shed; she wondered if this was what Lavender felt like when she kissed Seamus--
And then, "Stop. We can't. Seamus," she found herself saying.
"Fuck Seamus," Lavender replied with feeling.
"That's sort of the problem. You do. Regularly. Wouldn't he be upset--"
"I do," Lavender said. "And then I come right back to our dorm room and give you all he details. Tell me, Parvati, afterward-- do you imagine yourself in my place, making love to him, or in his place? Because I know what I imagine--"
"Lavender," Parvati whimpered.
"Kiss me," she said. So she did.
***"Lavender? Parvati?" somebody called, and then, "Oh, honestly."
Parvati's eyes widened. Hermione. She suddenly became very aware that she was kissing Lavender with Radha pressed bewteen them, and all three of them were naked and wet, and Lavender's hands were still twined in Radha's hair, and Radha was on tiptoes and licking Parvati enthusiastically behind her ear, and Parvati was kissing Lavender, and Hermione was standing at the edge of the pool with an annoyed expression on her face.
Lavender pulled back, a sheepish expression on her face. "Er, hi, Hermione, we were just giving Radha here her bath--"
Hermione threw her hands in the air. "Couldn't you have waited to have your great revelation of love some other time? When you weren't supposed to be taking care of a helpless innocent? Well, at least this means I won't have to go bother the poor house-elves for an extra bed."
"Hermione! Are you implying-- I assure you, we aren't--"
Hermione just raised her eyebrows, then looked up at the portrait of the merman, who had apparently woken up at some point in the proceedings, and appeared to be enjoying them mightily. "And you," Hermione added in the same tone of voice, pointing at him accusingly, "You're pregnant again, aren't you? You've been entertaining that skanky mermaid from the boy's bath. I told you she's no good, she even flirts with Ron. Really." She raised her head and implored the heavens. "Some people actually come to the prefects' bath to take baths. I swear."
Lavender giggled. "We have to finish getting her clean, Hermione. I promise we won't get distracted again. But don't wait up for us, okay?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Just-- put her to bed first, that's creepy, she can't even walk. And don't wake me up, okay? I know Seamus taught you the silencing charms, Lavender, I was the one who found them for him. " And then her lips quirked involuntarily into a smile, and she left.
***
Lavender woke up at some godforsaken hour of the morning. The only thing that redeemed it was the delicious feel of Parvati curled up against her. And then there was the less delicious face of her other roommate looming before her. "Hermione?" she muttered, and then wrinkled her nose. "What's that smell?"
Hermione moved away, sastified. "It appears that your rat-girl wasn't potty-trained." Lavender's vision adjusted enough for her to see the neat little puddle and pile beside Parvati's bed, across the room. She let herself fell back onto the pillow. "Eew. I'll go call a house-elf."
"No you won't," Hermione replied, "You're not waking them up at this hour because you were too busy to take care of the stray you've adopted. Clean it up yourselves, you have wands. I'm going to go down to the common room and try to get some actual sleep."
Lavender moaned, and poked her bedmate. "Vati. Vati, wake up. Who decided it was a good idea to give Granger a head girl badge, anyway?"
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Does Michael Moorcock have something to do with Nehwon? Really? Also, isn't it abuse of metasyntactic variables when there are only two with Swords Against * in the title?
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Michael Moorcock: No, but I think of them in the same thought because I haven't read anything much by either of them and they're primarily known for series (in very similar sub-genres, so far as I know) that were popular in the 70's and hard to find now;-)