This Side of Consciousness
A HariPo drabble
Note: The Harry Potter characters belong to J.K. Rowling, not me. Hooray for more femslash cousincest ideas… ;P Well, read, review, and enjoy!
Molly Lilandra Weasley knew it was wrong.
It was sixth year, wintertime, on one of the Hogsmeade trips. Molly hadn't even been thinking anything remotely related to her cousin. But there it was—an idea striking her from thin air.
Three tables over and one table back, Dominique sat with one of their other cousins, Roxanne, and some of Dominique and Roxanne's friends. But as Molly watched them have fun, she began to understand that her vision blurred on everything that wasn't Dominique. It was a curious thing, and Molly first tried rationalizing.
See, for being related, Molly felt that she and Dom were strangers. With such a big family, one might think that the Potter-Weasley family had huge get-togethers and enjoyed each other's company… But Molly didn't interact with too many of them. Molly kind of knew Victoire, since they were the eldest. Sometimes James came to her for mindless advice. Obviously Molly knew her sister, Lucy, but the only other interaction she really had with those of "her generation" was yelling at the twins, because Freddie and Roxanne were always getting into trouble. And Molly hated trouble and rule-breaking.
So she didn't really know Dom. She didn't even know her well enough to call her "Dom." But she called her that in her mind, and when her vision blurred everything but Dominique that day… "Dom" was the only syllable should had the ability to utter if she'd been forced to speak.
Molly supposed Dominique was an attractive girl. Dominique was willowy and elfin, with platinum blonde hair like her mother's and eyes lightly brown like Grandmam Weasley's. Her skin was white and almost imperceptibly freckled, and her lips were thin on the ends and full in the middle. She was curvy for a girl of her stature, and when she leaned forward, even all bundled up against the cold, one could help one's eyes from tracing a curve as her body moved, fluid.
Molly was aware that she'd stared that day, and she'd tried to write it off as finally taking notice of a cousin who rarely said anything to her. Molly deemed her an interesting subject to study and that was that.
But the Dominique-specific vision didn't go away.
In the halls, Molly would have this odd sense to force her gaze upward—even if she was enjoying a good book—and lo and behold, Dominique would be walking by. The gentle waves of blonde hair that tapered at her back bounced, and Molly somehow just knew how smooth the curves were beneath that Hufflepuff jumper. Dominique's legs ran a mile high into her skirt which was halfway between modesty and scandal, and Molly had no idea what to think when she caught more than an eyeful as Dominique turned to see someone behind her and her skirt twirled.
Molly decided to go ahead with analyzing her cousin. She didn't like happening to ogle her half the time, so she risked a few words in the library one evening. "Need that book for Transfiguration?" She pointed up.
Dominique looked at her—really looked at her—and closed her surprised, gaping mouth. "Oh, Molly…uh, yes, please."
And even though Dominique was the one wearing heels, Molly was still absurdly tall thanks to her father, and so she claimed the tome and began talking with Dominique.
It was just thirty minutes spent on various school subjects. It felt horribly bland, but Molly's imagination was as vivid as ever. The way Dom's hair fell behind her back and exposed quill-white skin, the way Dom's tongue darted between her lips to wet them, the way she pushed her sleeves up on her arms and Molly saw fair, fair hairs that very nearly weren't there—Molly couldn't tear her eyes away from any of it, and she had to stay up in bed that night to complete the homework she hadn't finished in the library.
It never occurred to Molly that, after that night, Dominique's eyes were eating her up in similar ways. And why should it? Molly was too caught up in observing her beautiful specimen, so she never would've thought that Dominique didn't see a cousin but a pretty witch with not beautiful but regal features. Molly had sharply arched eyebrows, and dark chocolate curls that fell below her chin. Molly had a habit of putting her bottom lip between her teeth so often that her lips always had this just-kissed look to them. The way Molly smoothed her skirt against her backside before sitting—it was akin to a tease, and Dominique had to tear her eyes away before a tiny groan escaped her when sitting with her mates.
But it would all be fine when one winter later, Molly would finally display her Gryffindor courage and take Dominique. Not when everyone else was in Hogsmeade and not when everyone but them went home for break. Not even when everyone else was busy watching some Quidditch game.
No, instead goody-two-shoes Molly did the bad thing and met Dominique in the hallway and convinced her that they didn't need to go to their next classes. And they found a room too small to be called a classroom and too big to be called a broom closet. There, Molly could doing an in-depth analysis of her subject and Dominique could savor her eye-candy, fingers, tongues, and sweat and all. Because Molly didn't know what it was like to feel a leg slick between her own, to feel a hand touch her breast that wasn't her own, to feel hot saliva cool her hotter skin as it dried. And Dominique…well, she'd never told Molly that she was the experimenter of the family, and the blonde had found her most favorite experiment yet.
Molly Lilandra Weasley knew it was wrong.
But Dominique Gabrielle Weasley convinced her otherwise with a hand on her privates and a tongue in her ear.
;P I merely wanted to write something borderline hot… And it was interesting to appreciate the female body from a prose perspective, because I'm more used to drawing female characters than really describing them. Ah, well.
Thanks for reading and please review!