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20 April 2006 @ 12:47 am
FIC: Curvature, Hermione/Rosmerta, R  
Title: Curvature
Author: rose_whispers
Pairing: Hermione/Madam Rosmerta
Rating: R
Word count: 4130
Summary: Rosmerta needs to stop feeling guilt and pain. Hermione just needs to start feeling.
Warnings: h/c, first time.
Author's notes: Written for the hp_girlslash Spring Seduction challenge. Immediately following HBP.



For once in her seventeen years of life, Hermione Granger thought she truly understood the sentiment behind the phrase "I need a drink". She used to turn her nose up at anyone weak enough, or stupid enough, to want to drown their sorrows in a temporary, alcohol-induced haze of forgetting. It seemed pointless, when the alcohol burned going down and burned worse if it came back up. Doubly so as it made one lose control of oneself during the drinking part, and triply during the hangover phase. Or so Hermione had heard, having never been close to drunk herself.

But that was before Dumbledore's funeral.

Hermione had never felt so numb in her life. Amidst the swirl of dignitaries, Order members, and students past and present, Hermione couldn't motivate her usually overactive mind out of its sluggish torpor. Dumbledore was dead, and where were the Order without him? Intellectually, she knew that she and Ron would be by Harry's side whether he wanted them there or not, hunting down and destroying every last horcrux. Her heart wasn't yet with her mind, though. She couldn't bring herself to move past her numb disbelief.

After the funeral, once he had brought Grawp home, Hagrid declared that he needed a drink. Several of the other adults agreed.

"So do I," Hermione said, in a steady tone that brooked no argument.

Molly Weasley might have had a thing or two to say about that, but as she was once more at Bill's bedside, it wasn’t an issue. Remus Lupin nodded at Hermione, and the small party set off to Hogsmeade, leaving Ron and Harry and all the rest at the castle.

Hagrid wandered right past the Three Broomsticks, probably, Hermione mused detachedly, on his way to the Hog's Head. Professor Lupin cleared his throat loudly and pointedly opened the heavy wooden door of the Three Broomsticks instead.

"Oh. Righ'," Hagrid said, glancing first at Professor Lupin, then at Hermione, then back again. "After yeh, Hermione."

She stepped into the shadowy, ill-lit inn, followed by Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Mundungus Fletcher, who had somehow attached himself to the party, Hagrid, and finally Professor Lupin. It was eerily silent inside. Two goblins sat huddled in one corner, flashing their pointed teeth at the newcomers. Tonks led the way toward the back, and they claimed a large round table. Kingsley lit the candle at its centre with a muttered incendio. Silence descended. No server came out to greet them.

Hermione glanced around. "I've never seen it like this before."

Professor Lupin shook his head. "Everyone is at the castle, paying their respects." His tone was tight, too measured to be a casual observation.

They waited a moment longer, uncomfortably, before Mundungus thrust his chair back with a momentous scrape. "What'll it be then, ladies 'n' gents?"

The grin that immediately split Professor Lupin's face was equal parts mischievous and indulgent, and it made him look almost boyish. "Rum on the rocks," he said.

"Something with an umbrella in it for me," Tonks chimed in, lacing her fingers through Remus' on the table. Hermione, never one for public displays, rolled her eyes.

"Le' me help yeh, Dung," Hagrid boomed, standing up as well. He and Mundungus rounded the bar and began to rummage through the bottles of alcohol noisily. Hermione winced as a loud SHATTER/SLOSH rent the air.

"Should they be back there?"

"Relax," Kingsley said. "If Rosie didn't want them back there, she'd have shooed them away by now."

"And just where is Madam Rosmerta?" Hermione snapped.

"I didn't see her at the service," Professor Lupin said mildly, "but she must be about somewhere, if the inn is open."

Another crash and a muffled curse from Mundungus sent Hermione straight out of her chair. "I'll be in the ladies'," she said, crossing the floor quickly. But she bypassed the loo in favour of searching for the kitchen. Someone with authority had to be around here somewhere to set those idiots straight, she reasoned.

Not a single candle flickered in the darkened kitchen. "Madam Rosmerta?" Hermione called. Her words echoed off the pots and pans suspended from the ceiling, their reflections glinting in the light spilling in from the corridor. "Hello?"

No one replied, and Hermione continued down the hall. She was nearly ready to give up and go back, because really, this had been a stupid idea coming here in the first place, when she heard a muted sob at the end of the hall. Tiptoeing closer, she discovered a half-closed door with a tarnished nameplate that read, "MANAGEMENT."

"Hello?" she called, pushing the door open.

Madam Rosmerta was seated in a straight-backed wooden chair by the fireplace, her face buried in her hands. Her hair, as wild as Hermione's and yet somehow more artful, tumbled past her shoulder blades. Her black robes were a stark contrast to the riot of colours she normally wore. She looked like a monochromatic gypsy.

"Madam Rosmerta?" Hermione tried again, and the other woman looked up slowly. Her face, normally flushed with good health, was streaked with tears that she didn't bother to hide.

"We're closed," she said hoarsely.

"You're not," Hermione countered.

Rosmerta's eyes narrowed. "Granger, is it? One of Harry Potter's perpetual entourage?"

"Hermione Granger," Hermione corrected. "One of Harry's best friends, thank you." She was a bit surprised that the other woman remembered her name. Perhaps Rosmerta was good with names- it made sense, given her profession.

"Right." Rosmerta stood and marched over to the door, none of the normal swish in her step. She stopped before Hermione and gestured back down the hall. "Now out with you. Run along."

Her eyes were watery, and close up, Hermione could see the unbelievable layering of guilt and pain upon her face. And it was a lovely face, even now, reddened from weeping. Hermione understood why Ron could never keep his eyes in his head when this woman was around. Her stomach jolted, finally comprehending what was wrong, and she laid a hand on the older woman's shoulder.

"It's not your fault," she whispered.

Rosmerta stared at her, visibly startled. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"I do too," Hermione said, not letting go. "I'm Harry's best friend, remember? Of course I know what I'm talking about. Draco Malfoy used you. It isn't your fault."

Rosmerta shook herself free and retreated to her chair. "Get out."

Hermione pursued her, standing before her with her hands on her hips. "You were under the Imperius. Many witches and wizards have fallen victim to it. It isn't your fault."

"He was just a child!" Rosmerta argued. "I should have been able to throw it off!"

"He's no more a child than I am," Hermione said, kneeling before the other woman. How many times had she had to have talks like this with her friends? No, Ron, it isn't your fault that Harry dashed off to the Ministry and nearly got himself killed. No, Harry, of course it's not your fault that Pettigrew got away. She slipped her hands over Rosmerta's. The other woman's skin was smooth and cold. "He is a prejudiced, cowardly little traitor. He would have done anything to try to achieve his goal. This isn't. your. fault."

"I gave that Bell girl the necklace!" Rosmerta gasped, squeezing Hermione's hands tighter. "I... I watched for Dumbledore, every night. I saw him go by, him and Harry! And I let Draco Malfoy know. I alerted him- those Death Eaters were in that school because of what I did. Dumbledore is dead because of me!"

She was shaking hard, her nails biting into Hermione's fingers, and Hermione did the only thing she could think of. She tugged the other woman down, and, wresting one hand free, circled her shivering shoulders in a tight hug. Rosmerta threw her arms around Hermione's neck and Hermione held her close, rocking her gently.

"It's all right," she soothed as Rosmerta cried against her shoulder. "It's all right, I promise. No one blames you. Not Harry, not me, not any of the people who matter."

"I should be blamed," Rosmerta whispered. She slid out of the chair, onto her knees before Hermione, and Hermione gathered her even closer.

"No." She used her best authoritative Prefect voice. "You are a victim of a stupid plot."

Rosmerta pulled back a bit, her eyes shining with unspilled tears. She was no longer openly sobbing. "Why are you being so kind to me?"

Brushing away some of the moisture from Rosmerta's cheek with her thumb, Hermione whispered, "Because you deserve some kindness." Her thumb traced Rosmerta's cheekbone softly, moving back and forth, and the other woman leaned into her touch. Hermione cradled her face protectively, surprised that they were so near one another. When had that happened? They were almost the same height, on their knees before the fire, and the flames were burnishing everything, returning some of the normal glow to Rosmerta's face.

"No more tears," Hermione said, soft but firm.

Rosmerta sniffed. "I must look a wreck."

"You don't," Hermione said, with such conviction that it seemed to surprise them both. Her fingers found their way into Rosmerta's cascade of hair. "You look just fine to me."

Rosmerta's arms dropped lower, circling Hermione's waist but not letting go. "To you?"

It seemed the most natural thing in the world to lean forward a little and brush her lips against Rosmerta's. Just to reassure her that it would be all right. Just to let her know that she had a friend and that she didn't have to bear such terrible guilt alone.

Perhaps Hermione shouldn’t have been so stunned when Rosmerta kissed her back.

It was a tender, tentative thing, moist lips exploring her own, and it was unlike anything Hermione had ever experienced. Rosmerta's lips were soft, so soft, and so undemanding. She wasn’t simply taking, the way, it seemed to Hermione, that boys so often did. She was sharing this moment, and Hermione found that she desperately wanted to partake in it. Her lips tingled wherever they met Rosmerta's, and she let the wonderful strands of the other woman's hair slide between her fingers as their mouths moved leisurely against each other. She could taste the saltiness of the other woman's tears, and without really thinking about it, she licked away some of that moisture, some of that pain.

Rosmerta shivered a little, something between a gasp of laughter and, to Hermione's astonishment, arousal escaping her, finding an answer in Hermione's body. Rosmerta's tongue flicked out to meet hers, and that truly made Hermione start with surprise. Viktor had shoved his tongue roughly into her mouth a few times but nothing so sweet as this.

Rosmerta's lips parted, and Hermione followed the older woman's tongue back into her mouth, surveying everything she touched, as if cataloguing all of these sensations for later. Perhaps she was doing just that. She stroked along Rosmerta's palette, her teeth, her tongue, moaning at the play of tongue against tongue, so mobile and agile, like some bizarre work of moving modern art that was all angles and curves. She was dizzy, spinning through these wonderful sensations, and she nearly jumped out of her skin when Rosmerta nipped gently at her lower lip.

"Miss Granger," she said, voice rough, pupils dilated. Her hair was an utter mess, and Hermione was sure she was no better. "Perhaps you had best... I've forgotten myself, I'm sorry."

Stung, Hermione let go, feeling very cold and very stupid. There was nothing she hated more than feeling stupid. "I shouldn't have taken advantage."

"You! You're a child!" Rosmerta shook her head ruefully. "I'm taking advantage of you!"

"I'm of age," Hermione said waspishly. Where had this dull ache come from, this need to reach out to touch the woman before her? "If you don't want me, just tell me to go. Don't use my age as an excuse."

"Believe me, that isn't... I don't..." Rosmerta studied her for a protracted moment and Hermione felt herself blush hotly beneath her gaze.

"This is the first time I haven't been numb since he fell," Hermione whispered.

Rosmerta closed her eyes, her lashes fanning out against her skin, and then fluidly, she opened them and tugged Hermione forward into another kiss, this one far more heated, need and desire fuelling the embrace.

Hermione moaned, surrendering as kiss blended into kiss, teeth nipping, tongues chasing back and forth between their mouths. Rosmerta slid her palms up and down Hermione's arms, squeezing her shoulders before reaching around to cup her neck. Her nails scraped at the sensitive flesh and Hermione moaned softly, her own hands moving restlessly across Rosmerta's back, the coarse fibre of her dark robes rough and real. So real- and it occurred to Hermione in a sudden flare of insight that this was real. This was life, really happening in the circle of Rosmerta's arms. For perhaps the first time, the prospect that she might fail at something important didn't even occur to her. This was right, and Hermione knew exactly what she was doing.

Rosmerta trailed soft, clinging kisses along Hermione's jaw, tangling their fingers together, squeezing lightly, reassuring them both. She dragged her tongue slowly across the pulse point at Hermione's throat, which prompted a sharp gasp from her. She hadn't had any idea that mere touches could make her feel so much- only an hour ago, she had wondered if she would ever feel anything again.

"Madam-" she began, and cut herself off, blushing desperately.

"Rosie," Rosmerta said firmly, holding Hermione's face in both hands and drawing her forward for another kiss.

Hermione skimmed her fingers along Rosmerta's side, touching the soft swell f her breast tentatively. Rosmerta smiled against her mouth, nodding encouragement, and Hermione cupped her left breast, surprised at the sensation, the softness, the weight, the give beneath her fingers. Her other hand wandered downward, following the wonderful curve of ribcage and waist and hip. Hermione had never really considered the perfection of losing herself in touching such curving surfaces. The graceful undulation of Rosmerta's body intoxicated Hermione more than any mead she might have purchased in the inn. She never wanted to stop, especially when Rosmerta leaned into her touch, pressing her breast firmly into Hermione's hand. She wanted to feel more, to touch her fill. She was nearly derailed when Rosmerta mimicked her gesture, palming Hermione's breast expertly and brushing a thumb across her nipple.

"Oh," Hermione breathed, her skin tightening, her stomach clenching, and a delicious, excited warmth sinking somewhere lower. "Oh, that's lovely."

Rosmerta stopped just long enough to undo Hermione's robe and push it off her shoulders, letting it fall into a heap around Hermione's knees. The older woman stared at her breathlessly, fingers lingering by Hermione's school tie. She paused, a flash of guilt in her eyes once more, but Hermione didn't give her the opportunity to rethink her actions. She needed this- they both did, of that Hermione was sure. She quickly unfastened her tie and the buttons of her blouse, shrugging the fabric away before she herself got cold feet.

Her knees were starting to ache from the hard, uneven wooden floor, and she sat down cautiously. She was supremely aware of how little she was wearing: her bra, her school skirt, her knee socks, her sensible shoes, her even more sensible white cotton knickers. Her skirt rode up a bit as she sat, massaging her knees.

"You're beautiful," Rosmerta said reverently, replacing Hermione's hands with her own, stroking the skin of Hermione's knees. It sent a shiver directly up Hermione's legs, pooling hotly between her thighs.

"Rosme- Rosie," Hermione breathed. She clutched at Rosmerta's robes and pulled her forward, lying back at the same time. Rosmerta moved with her, stretching out on top of her. The weight of another warm, mobile body atop her sent jolts of arousal through her, and she arched up into another kiss, sucking Rosmerta's tongue into her mouth as she tried blindly to rid the older woman of her clothes. Rosmerta helped, shucking the funereal robes away and sitting back on her heels. She wore nothing at all underneath, and the immediate revelation of nude, flushed flesh in such wondrous abundance sent Hermione's heart thundering nearly out of her chest.

"Rosie," she whispered again, staring at the other woman. She truly was beautiful. Hermione marveled again at the way she curved in just the right manner, and she reached out to touch, her fingers tracing the contours of Rosmerta's body, touching the lower curves of her breasts before circling the hard, rosy nipples. She had to suppress a giddy giggle at that- Rosie's rosy nipples, and Hermione was touching them, curving upward herself, to lick timidly at first. At the sharp intake of breath above her, she did so again, laving the left nipple as her fingers continued to circle the right. Rosmerta buried her hands in Hermione's hair, rubbing her head gently. They rocked almost imperceptibly, Hermione sucking first one nipple and then the other, reveling in the shared warmth and closeness.

When Rosmerta's fingers left her hair in favour of unfastening and removing Hermione's bra, Hermione was flushed but not embarrassed, too aroused by the woman in her arms to worry about what she would think of her. And if the look of awe and pure hunger was anything to go by, Hermione had no reason to worry at all. Rosmerta laid her back down and kissed her way down Hermione's body, one hand resting upon her stomach, drawing light circles around her bellybutton, the other holding her right breast, squeezing gently before her mouth descended upon her nipple.

Hermione damned near floated off the floor. No one had ever, ever made her feel like this before. "Oh," she sighed. "Oh, that's- that's just-"

Maybe words weren't so important. Hermione's fingers dug into Rosmerta's hips, holding on with all her strength, and Rosmerta rolled them both onto their sides, facing each other. Rosmerta's knowledgeable fingers found their way under Hermione's skirt, brushing against her knickers, between her legs.

"Oh god," Hermione gasped. The touch was electric, setting fireworks that rivaled the Weasley twins' newest creations off inside her head. She followed Rosmerta's lead, her hand moving over the other woman's stomach and down to card through the soft hair she found lower, and at last sliding further down. Oh, Rosmerta was wet, burning hot and slippery-slick, and Hermione realized that it was directly because of her. That by itself was enough to drive her out of her mind. Rosmerta's own fingers pushing aside Hermione's knickers only clinched it.

She was used to her own fingers a little, furtively testing her body's responses beneath the heavy covers in her shared room at Hogwarts, using the muffliato charm that she had chided Ron and Harry for to distract her dorm-mates. But this was unlike anything else she had ever experienced. They were just fingers, weren't they, but oh they were dexterous, finding just the right spot and teasing it, circling what the analytical part of Hermione's mind was reminding her was her clitoris. And a damned good job of stimulation she was doing too. Hermione did her best to follow along. Judging by the way Rosmerta groaned and buried her face in Hermione's neck, she decided she mustn't be doing too badly at it.

Moving in unison, following each other, their voices twined together as they rocked slowly against each other. Rosmerta claimed Hermione's mouth in a deeper kiss, tasting her as she slid one finger inside her, slick with Hermione's own arousal.

"My god, oh my god," Hermione gasped into Rosmerta's mouth. It almost hurt, that one thin finger pushing into her and pulling out once more, only to repeat the process. She could feel her body clenching against the intrusion, and it was such an uneven, swirling combination of unfamiliarity and ohgodyes that she could barely form a coherent syllable.

It took her a few minutes to deep breathe and collect herself before she could echo Rosmerta's movements once more. It seemed like the most intimate invasion, gliding her finger further down, deeper, deeper, until- yes- she could feel Rosmerta's body all around her.

Rosmerta moaned in earnest, thrusting against Hermione's hand, taking more of her inside. They swayed together, the whole world narrowing in focus to the two of them, facing each other, exploring each other, steady kisses and unsteady hands moving in an irregular and yet flawless rhythm that seemed to be speeding up of its own accord. Hermione's breath was coming in shallow gasps, her vision flickering in and out. She thrust two fingers into Rosmerta's body and ground the heel of her hand against the other woman's clit, and Rosmerta cried out, bending into her touch, her eyes fluttering closed. A look of purest ecstasy bloomed across her face, erasing the harsh lines of pain and guilt. She clung to Hermione, her fingers rediscovering their cadence as she came back to herself. Now, as her breathing steadied, she focused more upon what she was doing, working Hermione's body precisely and passionately.

It took only two more strokes of her fingers, rolling Hermione's clit between them, to bring her gasping and whimpering into her climax. Hermione wasn't vocal in her pleasure, perhaps because she was so used to keeping quiet in her dormitory, but it didn't matter. She was lost, utterly and completely lost, in a sea of pure, shining sensation. God, she could feel everything. Every breath she took, every gentle touch of Rosmerta's fingers, bringing her back to earth gradually and with care. She could feel herself again, the way her heart beat, and the way her legs were tangled with Rosmerta's. She noticed that she was still wearing her knee socks and her skirt, and that Rosmerta's body was warm and smelled faintly, wonderfully of lily of the valley. She realized, at last, the pain in her heart at seeing Dumbledore, lifeless and unable to protect them, to lead them, and the sure knowledge that she would stand by Harry no matter what. They had been through so much, all three of them, and this was only one more challenge that they would face together.

With a deep, happy sigh, Hermione pulled Rosmerta close to her, kissing her tenderly. Their lips brushed against each other, saying goodbye to this moment that belonged just to them. Hermione ran her fingers through Rosmerta's wild hair, and they smiled at one another.

"I should go back," Hermione said. "I came to find you to tell you that Hagrid and Mundungus Fletcher are out there making a mess of your bar."

Rosmerta actually laughed, the first time Hermione had heard her do so all day. "Hagrid knows I'll take whatever damage he does right out of his hide."

Hermione sat up and fetched her blouse, pulling it on without haste. Rosmerta pushed herself up as well and reached out, fastening the buttons for her.

"Thank you, Hermione," she said, as she reached for the tie as well, looping it around Hermione's neck.

A blush somehow managed to find its way onto Hermione's cheeks. "Not at all. I- thank you as well."

Rosmerta stood and draped her robe loosely about herself, not bothering to do it up. She offered Hermione her hand and pulled her up to her feet. They stared at each other for a moment, hands clasped between them, and then Hermione leaned forward, brushing a sweet, chaste kiss against Rosmerta's lips one last time.

"You take care of yourself, best friend of Harry Potter."

Hermione nodded, and let go of her hand, stepping out of the office. She walked back down the hall, her legs shaky but her heart whole once more. She stopped in the loo briefly to run through a few quick cleansing and straightening charms, hoping that her appearance wasn't too shocking when she reappeared in the pub proper.

She couldn't have been gone too long, but she could tell that Mundungus was well and truly hammered already, and Tonks was halfway there as well. Hagrid spilled some mead down his front as he raised his glass in a toast, and Hermione chuckled.

"I was just speaking with Madam Rosmerta," she said bossily, reclaiming her seat. "She says she'll take it out of your hide if you damage the place."

Professor Lupin grinned at her and started to tell an extraordinarily dirty joke about a banshee, a Muggle doctor, and a cauldron maker, and Hermione joined in with the rest of the group, laughing until her stomach hurt. A drink, she decided had not been what she needed after all, though what she had needed had been right here in this inn.

Fin
 
 
 
dreamerdust on April 20th, 2006 08:39 am (UTC)
Really lovely characterisations. The interaction between Rosie and Hermione at the beginning really worked, and I loved that Hermione used her prefect voice!lol Thanks :)
rose_whispers: Dragonheart- starsrose_whispers on April 20th, 2006 12:20 pm (UTC)
Thank you very much. This story started out with a completely different setting and plot, but took itself over and demanded to be written like this. I'm glad you enjoyed it!
WHOLE FOODS IS CORPORAAAAAAATE: Intergenerational Illegalitybartzina13 on April 20th, 2006 10:03 am (UTC)
Congratulations, I have been reading a river of lesbian erotica for over a decade, and have consequently gotten very, very picky. This is hands down one of the finest. Change the names and submit it to On Our backs, my friend!
rose_whispers: HP- Lockhart Smilerose_whispers on April 20th, 2006 12:21 pm (UTC)
*blushes* This is the first femmeslash pairing I've attempted, so you have no idea how much your comment means to me. Thank you so much!
like a motherfucking stoner praetoriusstephanometra on April 20th, 2006 08:03 pm (UTC)
Tender, sweet, and hot as hell. Very nice.
rose_whispers: General- Frodo has failedrose_whispers on April 21st, 2006 04:58 pm (UTC)
Thank you!
dark_cygnetdark_cygnet on April 20th, 2006 08:31 pm (UTC)
Hey! You had me read femslash! o_O It was very good, i thought your characterizations for right on and it seemed very natural and not forced when they preceeded to comfort each other. Great job!

Now get back to work! *whipcrack*
rose_whispers: Colbert Report- phoenix featherrose_whispers on April 25th, 2006 01:57 pm (UTC)
Heeeee. I am now officially, completely, and totally DONE. Done my coursework, done my final papers, done my term, and therefore done my degreeeeeeeee!!!

Thank you for all of your whipcracking- it really has acted as a motivator to get me off the 'net and back to work. *g* My, er, ficcish thanks will be coming your way as soon as it's back from the betas!

And thanks for reading this one, especially as it's femmeslash and such an odd pairing :D I'm very happy that you liked it!
Inell: Femmeslashinell on April 20th, 2006 09:22 pm (UTC)
Oh, Rose! Your work always just takes my breath away. I am so delighted that you've begun to write Hermione pairings because you're masterful with her. Just beautiful characterizations and premise. Well done!
rose_whispers: HP- Fred winkrose_whispers on April 25th, 2006 01:58 pm (UTC)
Thanks, Inell! It's entirely you fault that I'm a Hermione writer! It's because of you that I'm becoming a much more well-rounded fanfic author, trying out new pairings and new situations. So thank you for that (and thank you for reading, too! I'm delighted that you enjoyed it, as the pairing was your suggestion :D )
orgasmicspork on April 21st, 2006 02:31 am (UTC)
I worship and praise the ground you walk upon...

and i now need a cold shower....
rose_whispers: Faerie- Froud- Dark Ladyrose_whispers on April 25th, 2006 02:25 pm (UTC)
Oh, thank you! I'm so glad you enjoyed it :D
selene2selene2 on April 21st, 2006 03:47 am (UTC)
I snuck over here by way of inell's rec and I am so glad that I did. I loved every second of this story. Absolutely wonderful.
rose_whispers: Gargoyles- Moonlightrose_whispers on April 25th, 2006 02:25 pm (UTC)
Thank you so much! I'm delighted that you enjoyed it!
letmypidgeonsgoletmypidgeonsgo on April 22nd, 2006 07:14 am (UTC)
here via inell's pimpage

good fic, but more importantly (in my mind, anyway) mad luv for your icon! i have one with the same phrase on my userinfo...too funny!

i also found those awesome west wing quote icons via your userpics, so thanks!
rose_whispers: West Wing- CJ- World Dominationrose_whispers on April 25th, 2006 02:29 pm (UTC)
Thank you! *giggles* And thank you for the icon love. It was made for me way, way back when I first joined LJ and has been my default icon ever since.

Aren't those West Wing icons fantastic? I squeed quite happily when I found them :D Heh. The wrath of the whatever from high atop the thing. Oh Toby. Oh Sam. ... I think I need to go watch some old episodes now!
letmypidgeonsgo: tvletmypidgeonsgo on April 25th, 2006 05:29 pm (UTC)
:D i used to go around saying 'the wrath of the whatever from high atop the thing' & people would look at me like i was nuts

my absolute favorite of those is from celestial navigation, about the north star that turned out to be the delta shuttle from laguardia (especially funny if you live near nyc)

hehe i'm so tempted to make ww quote icons of my own...now where are my tapes of old episodes...i think we need one that says bring me the finest muffins and bagels in all the land ;)

タムhymenchan on April 22nd, 2006 07:16 pm (UTC)
...Wow. That was really, really good.

*shifty eyes*

So, on other things, I have two points for you:

Point #1: Remember hp_clover? Well, a similar fic/art exchange community is here... centered around Hermione's birthday. It is sexy_brilliance and can be found
[Error: Irreparable invalid markup ('<a [...] inell">') in entry. Owner must fix manually. Raw contents below.]

...Wow. That was really, really good.

*shifty eyes*

So, on other things, I have two points for you:

Point #1: Remember <lj user="hp_clover">? Well, a similar fic/art exchange community is here... centered around Hermione's birthday. It is <lj user="sexy_brilliance"> and can be found <a href="sexy_brilliance.livejournal.com>here</a>. So since you're an AWESOME author, we'd OMGSOLOVE for you to come join us again! XD

Point #2: So I won a paid lj account. And I need to know how to beautify my lj like yours or <lj user="inell">'s for example... because otherwise it would go to waste and that would be sad! :)
rose_whispers: Muppets- Bork! Bork!rose_whispers on April 25th, 2006 02:32 pm (UTC)
Thank you!

*giggles* Aaah, an ulterior motive! *g* Inell pointed me in that direction and then I got distracted- I'm easily, easily distracted. I meant to head on over immediately and sign up, so I shall do so ASAP.

As for my journal, I am completely clueless about making things pretty. My dear and adored thescarletwoman offered to do a layout for me, so I told her what colours I liked and gave her my rose dragon image and the quotes I wanted in various places, and she did the rest. I think Inell does her own, though, so she'd be more helpful to you than me! But yay for paid account! How did you win it, if I might ask?
タムhymenchan on April 25th, 2006 07:31 pm (UTC)
Hee! Of course! :D

Dang it. I think everyone is. And no, I tried Inell. She said someone made her hers a LONG time ago and she doesn't remember who and doesn't know how. Hrm. I don't know who to ask. :\

I won it by winning second place in a haiku contest! *squee!* It was exciting. XD
kazfeistkazfeist on July 7th, 2006 04:10 am (UTC)
Inell was right...this is a lovely story and the pairing works. I have not read your work before but I am impressed!
(Anonymous) on January 22nd, 2011 05:46 am (UTC)
Thanks you for your work.
I love rose-whispers.livejournal.com! Here I always find a lot of helpful information for myself. Thanks you for your work.
Webmaster of http://loveepicentre.com and http://movieszone.eu
Best regards