Entry tags:

fanfiction, fanfiction - drabble, fanfiction - femslash, fanfiction - harry potter, fanfiction - pg-13, fanfiction - polyamory

Drabble: Geometry (Harry Potter, Alicia/Angelina/Katie, PG-13)
Title: Geometry
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Quidditchcest and femslash
Pairing: The Gryffindor Chasers. Alicia/Angelina/Katie
Date: March 2003
Length: 424 words
First posted at: hpdrabble

* * *
Angelina Johnson is all curves. The way her dark thigh bulges out in a smooth convex disc. The way her rope of black hair falls, little s-hooks hanging together, one right after the other. When she flies the line of her back is smooth and lazy, a relaxed upside-down U as she leans over the side of the broom and sweeps up the Quaffle. She doesn't fret because although she's shy, she's also confident. She never worries about missing the Quaffle, because her curved arms scoop it up every time.

Alicia Spinnet is all planes and angles. The way her precision-cut hair is perfectly straight, the color somewhere on the line between brown and black. The way her chest falls straight to her hips, making right angles with her shoulders. When she flies her back is ramrod-straight, a single line from her tension-tight fingers to the base of her spine. She worries and pushes at her hair so it falls perpendicular to her eyes, because even though she's brash and outspoken, she gets nervous. She focuses single-mindedly on following the Quaffle with straight unblinking beams from her eyes, because she doesn't want to miss a chance to grab at the Quaffle with stick-straight arms.

Katie Bell is a mix of straight and crooked and she hates it. Hates the way her hair tumbles in long loose waves that wrap themselves around her pinky for good luck on some days, but look dishwater-straight on others. Hates the way her chest is flat but her stomach bulges, like an upside-down pasta dish between her hips. When she flies her legs are full of sharp angles like stone steps, but her arms flail in big sweeping circles to catch and throw the Quaffle. On her good days she doesn't worry as much as Alicia, and on her bad days she's not as relaxed as Angelina, and she wishes, just for a day, that she could look like them.

But at night when Alicia's hair braids itself into a straight neat tail with Katie's, and her hand lands on the curve of Angelina's breast, Katie keeps her eyes open in the dark and watches them. Listens to Angelina's breath coming out in little twists of relaxation, listens to Alicia take in short, firm little coughs and mutters, and for once she is not the only one with ruler-straight beauty, not the only one whose fingers and ears are rounded. She watches the way lines fall against curves so perfectly that they do not contradict eachother. And she smiles.

fin