The prompt and original drabble posts for this drabblethon were lost to my back-up snafu. These drabbles were written on the occasion of my 400th friending.
64. For kateri_e, whose prompt was "Snape/Harry: Crossdressing:Secrets:Masquarade."
New Talent (PG-13; implied Snarry, Gilderoy Lockhart; 100 words)
"There are no secrets here at the Masquerade," Severus told Harry quietly, as his pet glared up into the bright lights next to him while they stood on the club's stage. "Strip off and put on what you're offered."
Master of Ceremonies Lockhart leered at the boy and offered him a box. "Cross-dressing is tonight's theme, gentlemen," he called into the crowd, his eyes never leaving Harry's flushed face—until Harry dropped his trousers, that is. "Oh my, Severus! Such bounty. Do you share?"
"You should know that I do, Gilderoy."
A slow ripple of ugly laughter spread throughout the room.
65. For hydrogen2oxygen, whose prompt was "Pansy/Luna: never, enough, faith."
Death Eater's Plaything (NC-17; Pansy/Luna; 150 words)
Pansy didn't believe in never. She knew she always got what she wanted in the end, and what she wanted very much was Luna's arse. It was heart-shaped, and she knew it would be so sweet, paddle-warmed and spread open for her.
Pansy couldn't get enough of Luna Lovegood—So true!—not when the girl cooed and cried so prettily, jutting her hips up to meet Pansy's thrusting tongue and fingers, not after Luna had stopped saying no—but had continued to be just disobedient enough to require further punishment.
Pansy wouldn't ever share her girl, not because she was selfish, but because she'd made a pledge to Luna, and she knew how much faith the precious girl had in her. Luna had been the best present ever, and Pansy was going to protect her from being broken. Luna was Pansy's favorite toy, and oh how she loved to wind her up.
66. For hydrogen2oxygen, whose prompt was "James/Lily: breathplay, angels, scar."
The Audience (NC-17; James/Lily, Filch, Mrs. Norris; 150 words)
"They'd been fighting when it first happened, James coming with Lily's hands around his neck—she'd squeezed so hard it seemed to me that her fingernail marks might've made a scar necklace around his throat—and he told her he'd seen angels floating around his head.
"He asked her to do it again, too, and Lily'd been up for it. She'd been up for a lot of sordid things. Like she used to flog him while he was hanging from the rafters of the Quidditch supply shed, beat his cock with a taper, throw itching powder on him when he was bound by one piece of rope from his toes to his throat—'cept Lily liked to leave his prick free so's she could suck on it while he struggled.
"I used to watch 'em, I did, isn't that right, Mrs. Norris? I used to watch 'em put on their little shows."