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Rigel couldn’t stop the bright red flush that climbed from the base of her neck into her cheeks as she stared down at the flesh-colored artificial member. After receiving the innocuous package from Archie, Rigel had secured it in her bag and continued with her day like normal. It felt criminal to carry around the member from class to class, but she didn’t want to slip the package into her trunk and risk the questioning looks from her roommates. At the first opportunity she could, Rigel barricaded herself in the restroom in the dormitory, bringing her bag and its questionable contents.
A part of her still doubted that anyone would be staring at the spot between her legs in the fourth task. Everyone would be fixated on the near-death experiences that were bound to occur. But perhaps this was just a “boy thing” she would never understand.
Rigel stared down at the member. She knew what this would look like, of course. Her anatomy studies were thorough. However, she didn’t know what it would be like to have something dangling between her legs. It would be irresponsible of her not to test out the self-adhering strap-on.
Rigel wanted to slap a hand to her forehead and groan.
Still, it wasn’t so bad. No one would be able to see it—while she was dry, at least. Grimacing, Rigel pulled down her trousers, then Archie’s bright gold boxers. She was surprised that these egregiously flashy boxers still fit her, despite the gradual widening of her hips.
A whispered spell later, and the strap-on was sealed to her skin. She tugged at the member experimentally, nodding approvingly when it stayed in place. She pulled up the golden boxers, frowning when the artificial member slipped into the right leg of her boxers. That was mildly uncomfortable.
Rigel shook her doubts away, pulled up her trousers, and stepped out of the bathroom. If she could last nearly four years in Hogwarts, she was sure she could last one day and one task with a silicon strap-on. That made her inwardly chuckle with dark satisfaction.
She felt Dom’s warning a moment too late. Draco was waiting for her on his bed, head tilted upwards to inspect something on the ceiling. He glanced at her with an unreadable expression on his face, “Something funny?”
Rigel shook her head, mind scrambling for an acceptable excuse. She sat across from him, on her own bed, “Just wondering if St. Mungo’s has finished the cake yet.” Her lips twitched into a smile as she recalled the red and white six-tiered cake.
Draco looked pointedly at her, and Rigel had to acquiesce. Her friend knew her too well. (And wasn’t that just a touch concerning?)
“I’m just…” Rigel paused to find the right word.
“Apprehensive,” Draco helpfully supplied.
“Yes, apprehensive,” Rigel fought the flash of irritation at his empathy, “about the fourth task.”
Draco suddenly looked very grim at the prospect. He pushed himself forward, leaning closer to Rigel. He made an aborted gesture with his hands. Rigel fought the urge shrink back when she realized he wanted to hold her hand.
“It can’t be as bad as the first task,” Draco’s voice was low, as if he were afraid someone would hear.
Rigel blinked. She supposed a scavenger hunt in the Black Lake didn’t sound bad. After all, there was no way the tournament organizers could dunk a dragon in there. She frowned at the prospect. Would it be possible?
She pushed the thought out of her head. Even if the organizers could do such a thing, they probably wouldn’t. The Black Lake was already comprised of a diverse range of creatures. Either way, Rigel was mostly nervous about her efficiency with the strap-on between her legs.
“You’ll have to make sure Pansy approves your swimwear first, of course,” Draco said knowingly.
Rigel snorted, “That’s a given, Dray.”
It was then that Rigel realized how close Draco was to her. She could see the fine details in his face. The specks of dark gray in his silver eyes. The high, aristocratic cheekbones. When had Draco started smelling so good? Why were these thoughts crossing her mind?
A moment rose to her mind, unbidden. It was one that she had desperately tried to forget. A feather-soft touch of his lips to hers. Gentle hands cradling her neck to pull her closer.
“Rye?”
Why was she acting like this? She had potions, and that was all she needed.
Something stirred beneath her robes, and Rigel jumped at the unexpected sensation. Something was shifting underneath her robes—underneath her trousers. Did someone levitate mice in her pockets? It wouldn’t be beyond the Weasley twins to do something like that. Though, Rigel couldn’t imagine why.
She watched, in morbid fascination as the fabric between her legs seemed to tent—
Rigel jumped to her feet, wordlessly summoning her bag as she dashed out the door, ignoring Draco’s startled shout. She could feel her face burning all different shades of red.
Damn it, Archie.
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[DmDmDm]
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Draco let out a silent breath as the door slammed behind Rigel. He didn’t understand his friend at all. At certain times, the boy was as stoic as a brick wall. At other times, like now, he was a raging mess of emotions. It was his occlumency, Draco knew, but it didn’t make it any less annoying.
He knew Rigel felt the same as he did. Even before he kissed Rigel, he had known.
So why was the bloody prick denying it?
Draco stood, scowling fiercely. Even Rigel’s own body couldn’t deny their attraction!
He turned sharply, pacing the length of the dormitory. How long was Rigel going to ignore him this time? Draco wanted to grab the stubborn Black scion by the shoulders and shake him until he was forced to tell him exactly what was so wrong about the two of them. Together.
Sighing, Draco sat down on the edge of his bed again. Perhaps this could wait until after the fourth task. There was a lot of pressure on Rigel this year. From the Triwizard Tournament to the vow to Rigel’s workaholic nature. Draco almost felt bad putting more pressure on him. Almost.
After the fourth task, Draco decided, nodding to himself. After the fourth task, he’d confront Rigel again. His wonderfully clever best friend with his strange quirks that he found to be utterly adorable.
Yes, Draco would make Rigel see sense. Even if he had to bring up this awkward moment again.
Until then, Draco flopped backwards on his bed, a dazed smile climbing onto his lips, he could savor Rigel’s flustered expression in his daydreams.