Below are the 3 most recent journal entries recorded in phoenix62's LiveJournal:

Saturday, February 4th, 2006
9:24 pm	The Scent of Home A/N: Written for a Halloween Challenge on my home site of apparitionpoint.com. The theme was "ghosts" The door burst open. Harry made his way through the house with a sense of urgency. He knew he’d be late and that would put him at a distinct disadvantage. “Harry?” He heard her in the kitchen. The glorious, mouth watering aroma of fresh baking had made its subtle presence felt upon entering the house. It made its indecent assault now. His senses became fully attuned to the feast carefully being prepared in the kitchen. His stomach growled with unhappy disquiet. “Mum! I’m late…he won’t be happy.” The words were agitated and impatient. “Calm down. He flooed earlier, the Ministry has delayed him. He’s asked that you take both broomsticks to the field. He’ll be there in an hour. Oh and he’s left the snitch in it’s box by the front door.” That snitch. The one James used during his school years to “impress friends and terrify enemies”. He had managed to ‘acquire’ it when he left Hogwarts and kept it as a reminder of “what a prat I was”. He’d engraved his initials on it, as a reminder that there were far more important things to seek in life than vanity and selfishness. Lily noticed her son greedily eying the offerings which were cooling on the bench. “No, you know they’re for later.” Disgruntled, Harry murmured. “It’s only the Weasleys. You know Ron eats more than his fair share.” At this point, he didn’t care that Ron was his best friend. Attending to his own extremely empty belly took precedent at this point. As Harry mutinously turned to look at his mother, he was met with a mischievous glint. For a moment, it felt as though he was looing in a mirror. He knew that look, from a very personal perspective. It was one he had shown in moments where he was about to ‘bend the rules’. “Oh…” he realised. She rolled her eyes. He sat down dutifully at the table. As she gathered a selection of buns and pastries, he soaked up the warmth of how ordinary the kitchen was. Ordinary, in an extraordinary way. The essence of all that kept him safe, secure and happy was contained in this room. Lily placed a mound in front of her son and walked briskly back to the bench to collect the tea. Harry caught the unmistakable scent of his mother. The gentle aroma of lavender quietly made its insistent way through all the other wonderful smells. She always wore that scent. James had given up trying to give her other perfumes years ago. She steadfastly maintained her routine. James blamed himself as it was the first scent he had given her for Christmas during their final year at Hogwarts. She firmly maintained it was “love captured in a smell”. Harry would not have it any other way. As Lily sat down to share a cup of tea with her constantly ravenous son, she raised her eyebrow and with a slight grin, mentioned “You have him worried.” “Why?” “Because he’s finding it harder to beat you.” Of course Harry knew that James always counted the small Catch the Snitch competitions between the two of them as his weekly highlight. Harry’s efforts increasingly brought out vast fatherly pride in James, as well as detailed instructions of what he needed to do to catch the small winged ball with greater economy and efficiency. Harry also grinned at James’s ever increasing mutterings as Harry steadily out manoeuvred and out flew his father. Lily smiled at her son. Draining the last of her tea, she stood and walked behind him. Again the scent of lavender clung to her like a halo. She circled her arms around him in a hug and left a kiss on his cheek. ******** Harry woke with a start. The last of the images and smells of the kitchen were dissipating. Emptiness made its way through his stomach: an emptiness which had little to do with hunger. It was a hunger of a very different kind. With eyes closed, he gently fingered his forehead. The mark of his reality was still there. Yet it was odd. He could have sworn that he felt his cheek burn. Reality demanded that he could still smell her scent. The quiet insistence of his mother’s love was still present in the dormitory. An unlikely event given the presence of five teenage boys. It was puzzling, yet unmistakable. Reaching unconsciously for his glasses, he froze. A cold, round metallic object was quietly sitting beside his glasses. In a single motion he sat up, he fumbled to rapidly put his glasses on. He carefully picked up the round object, so familiar to the Gryffindor Seeker, and turned it carefully. Two small initials were engraved on the snitch. JP. The disgruntled voice of his best friend rang through the morning quiet. “Why can I smell lavender?” Current Mood: contemplative (6 Comments |Comment on this)
Sunday, May 1st, 2005
2:03 pm	Lupin & Tonks Pairing A little bit of a plot bunnie nibbled at my toes and so here tis, the end result. Hope you enjoy! (NC17, so please check your birth certificate before reading) He gazed gratefully at the crescent moon, thinking that it was at least one problem he did not have to deal with. It had been a bastard of a day. No other adjective seemed appropriate enough for the kind of day that had just passed. Misinformation from one of Dung’s sources had rendered his whole day a total, frustrating waste. He was torn between wanting to do some serious hexing to that drunken reprobate, and getting very personal with a large bottle of firewhiskey. Rapping gratefully at the door of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, he looked at the serpentine embellishments with some distaste. He still sighed in wonder at the fact that such a family could produce his friend Sirius. An even greater wonder that he managed to escape the pure blood tendencies so ingrained in the majority of the family. But he smiled to himself at the thought of Sirius ever becoming a devoted ‘Black’. He still missed him. It was at that moment that the door swung open and he heard the comment “Well that’s a tragic sort of grin, even coming from you Remus”. There before him stood a woman with vibrant red hair. Not a sort of quiet dignified tone, not even a Weasley red, but a fully fluorescent red that assaulted the eyes. “Bloody hell Tonks! Do something about that hair before you render me blind.” She quizzically raised a dark eyebrow at Lupin as he stepped inside. “Well good evening to you too.” An insincere smile met him, which rapidly turned to a snarl. “I rather like my hair this colour, so will choose to keep it.” He stopped mid stride and glared at her. Lupin was ready to impart a tirade of bad feelings towards her, it was just the trigger he needed to diffuse the frustrations he had dealt with during his interminable day. But he thought, with a wry smile, “I’m ever the calm gentleman”. Instead, he chose to turn on his heel, head to the kitchen and seek solace in that bottle of firewhiskey. He was grateful that Tonks had made her way to the other end of the house. He was poor company at that moment and was unsure whether he was seeking absolute solitude (save for Mr Ogden) or a focus for his anger. Admonishing himself for his gentlemanly choice – he would really have preferred a fight – he sighed impatiently as he reached for the bottle and a glass. He poured a shot into the glass, though better of it, and continued to pour. Shrugging his shoulders to no one in particular, he thought “in for a penny, in for a pound”. It was going to be a long night. ******************** Tonks’s day at the Ministry had gone smoothly. Her work with Kingsley had always been of enormous interest and stimulation to her. Now that the Ministry had dismissed Fudge and had accepted Voldemort’s return, there was an increased sense of purpose to her work. Nights too had an altered meaning due to her involvement in the Order. She had arrived at Number 12 that afternoon catching Molly and Arthur on their way out. It appeared as though all Order members were out on their ever increasing list of ‘must do’ orders from Dumbledore. The increasing urgency of their work apparent to all, and as such, none complained. Tonks had initially been disappointed at the lack of company but after a small serving of some of Molly’s leftover lamb stew, decided that it was a welcome respite in the hectic days that seem to fill her life. Just to amuse herself after her meal, she stood in front of an ornate mirror. Baulking at the guilded, entwined serpents that framed her dusty reflection, she proceeded to change the colour of her shoulder length hair. Always one who seemed to prefer attention grabbing colours, a steady rainbow of irridescent and flourescent colours framed her unchanged, original facial features. Feeling buoyed by her mood, she settled on a colour that screamed “I’M RED!!!”. She also thanked Merlin that she was under cover that day in muggle London, as she had always felt more comfortable in her present state of attire: jeans, boots and tshirt. Settling herself in an old armchair, she picked up an old copy of the Quibbler. Her amusement had been interrupted by a knock at the door. Feeling some what put out at the intrusion into her now welcome solitude, she made her way to the door, marvelling at her own capacity to avoid that hideous troll’s foot umbrella stand. At least the old bat would not be set off again. Unbolting the door, she had hoped it would be someone that she did not really need to talk to, finding that these solitary moments were extremely rare and as a consequence, exceptionally valuable. She felt her buoyant mood evaporate by the end of Lupin’s greeting. Her hair now seemed to reflect the fires of anger seething within the pit of her stomach. Gesturing rudely at Lupin’s back, she returned to her armchair in an attempt to regain her previously happy and tranquil mood. ********************* Tonks had fallen into a restless sleep and had become chilled as the warming rays of the afternoon sun had long since vanished. Stumbling in the darkness, she cursed at herself under her breath for the inordinately stupid idea of not shedding some light with her wand and cursed even louder when she slammed her knee into a sharp table corner. Her dark mood had not lifted after her rest, and to top it off, she now felt cold. She made her way down to the kitchen, armed with the knowledge that at least there would be a warming everlasting fire burning. Opening the door with more force than she had intended, she spotted the reason for her current frame of mind sitting with a partially emptied bottle of Ogdens in front of him. Grimacing to herself, Tonks crossed the kitchen to the fire, briefly noting to herself that Lupin was now on his way to Ogden oblivion and was unlikely to have noticed her presence. Lupin however had only emptied one glass and had been sitting with his refill for quite some time, only taking partially enthused sips. He had been assaulted during his time in the kitchen with too many thoughts and memories which was rendering him quite immobile. He had begun to lose his taste for the drink. Startled at Tonk’s entry into the kitchen but wishing to remain alone with his thoughts, he tried to move as little as possible and tried to steady his gaze at his glass. Glancing up briefly, he looked in Tonks’s direction. Silhoutted against the fire, Lupin’s attention was drawn to the gentle curve of the small of her back, a well proportioned rear and tapered legs. He briefly appreciated muggle styled dress habits for their ability to display so much more than wizard robes. Lupin gave himself a mental slap for the sudden desire to run his hands down the length of these curves. He hadn’t thought he’d consumed excessive amounts to render him intoxicated, but concluded that even the smallest amount of the firewhiskey and a bad day was a recipe for deluded, misguided thoughts. Yet his eyes were drawn to her again. It was as though the room had caught alight. Lupin had failed to notice how the glow of the fire turned everything within its vicinity the reflected colour of a sunset. That melancholic kitchen blushed now. And he was rendered quite breathless by Tonks’s image by the fire. He had always seen her without really looking. Mesmerised, he had been astounded by her. She had transformed. Not physically, but within the recesses of his mind. **************** The warmth from the fire was filtering through too slowly for Tonk’s impatient liking. Staring absently at the fire she was unaware of the eyes that were observing her in every detail. All she could feel was a desperate desire for warmth and to be able to reconnect with the feeling in her toes. Her mind started a self contained dialogue about the benefits of various treatments to warm her body again. She gave consideration to warm beverages and baths, but these options all seemed to require a tranquil state of mind which did not suit her in the least. Her prickled mind settled on the idea of firewhiskey and knowing that there was an already opened bottle on the table, was willing to face the source of her bristled feelings for the sake of some internal combustion. Wordlessly she moved to take a glass to the table. Sitting herself in a chair opposite Lupin, she poured herself a considerable measure and took a welcome mouthful of the drink. There was a very good reason for calling it firewhiskey. She felt the burning in her mouth filter its way down into her body as she swallowed.. A welcome warmth making its slow progress to her extremeties. Taking further mouthfuls, Tonks was being relieved of that chilled feeling, and her prickly mood began to have some of the thorns removed. She was absently peering over the top of her glass when she caught Lupin’s eye. A jolt had made its way to the pit of her stomach and an unnatural warmth extended to her cheeks. She wondered uncomfortably how long he had been looking at her, and was further disconcerted that he did not avoid her admonishing look. In momentary glances, she absorbed his detail. It was a revelation to her. He was always just around, a pleasant colleague with an obvious wit and intelligence. But she had always taken his presence and looks for granted. She was surprised that looking beyond the every day, his face was in reality still youthful and remarkably attractive. It was the depths of his eyes thought which captured her the most, as though they were pensieves of their own, containing thoughts and memories to numerous and astounding to even begin retelling. Becoming conscious of her blatant stare, she flushed furiously and gulped her whiskey too quickly and began to choke. Lupin sprang into immediate action pouring a glass of water for her and came to her aid, standing by her side. Between coughs and gasps she choked out “Thanks. Went down the wrong way”. Lupin, patting her back, grinned and muttered “I usually find it best not the breath the stuff in”. Tonks eyes streaming from choking tears broke out into a grin between coughs, simply nodding as she could not manage much in the way of a conversation. It was not until she managed to regain her breath that she noticed Lupin’s had had not moved from her back. Its pressure, its warmth was imprinting itself between her shoulder blades. She was unsure why, but hoped that the hand would remain there. Crouching down beside her, Lupin looked directly at her and asked “Are you all right now?”. All she could do was give a half smile and a nod. It was at that moment that he swiftly pressed his lips against hers. ************************** He had decided in the swiftest of moments to lay to one side the gentleman. Unsure as to the reason why, he felt the need to touch her, from her skin to the very corners of her soul. Her surprised expression mellowed, and turned to a welcome response. He was caught somewhat by surprise at this, anticipating a hex at any moment, or at the very least, a decent slap. But these thoughts were only very momentary. He was caught in a vortex. She was soft and warm, yet exuded strength and courage. He was overcome by the ability to read her just from the sensation of his lips on hers With a brisk move she began to part his lips with a sense of increasing urgency. Her hand began to reach under his robe and over his shirt. Lupin thanked all the Merlins for her minimal clothing. He could feel the warmth of her so readily through her tshirt, and it took little effort to shift the flimsy fabric and place his hand on her back. He had not felt anything so comforting, so strong, so sensual as that first contact with her skin in such a very long time. Unaware of actions, Lupin had surprised himself in noticing that they were both on their feet. He found an eroticism so delicious in tracing his finger along the rise and fall of her spine. His mind detailing the exact points of its ebb and flow, and it all felt as though it was covered with the finest silk. Continuing to kiss her, he felt the need to further explore her, wanting to mark the different sensations each part of her would bring. He felt himself relieved of his robe. He was unsure as to whether she was very adept at this or whether his focus on her had been so complete that he had neglected to pay any attention to this detail. Feeling the overwhelming need to look at her skin, he began to pull her tshirt off. She showed no resistance at all, in fact appeared to help. Her skin was incandescent, and the most beautiful thing he had seen in a long time. Kissing her gently down her neck and shoulders, he swiftly took her in his arms and placed her on the table. Lupin bent over her and kissed her gently. He pulled back to admire her. He felt his heart clench as he witnessed the scar just below her rib cage, a recent addition as a result of a surprise attack by some errant Death Eaters. They all carried scars of some sort, reminders of battles both private and public. Lupin himself was a contour map of lines showing the rugged terrain that was his Lycanthropy. But this was an obscenity. It still had the flush of pink of newly healed skin, yet it was the most abhorrent of scenes. Not because is disfigured her. Quite the opposite, that scar brought the beauty of courage and honour to her. But because it physically acted as a marker, a memorial to all that was lost and would be lost in the war. With a mixture of homage, despair and grief he pressed his lips against the uneven surface of the scar. He realised the close proximity of the top of her jeans. While still deciphering the texture of her with his lips, he began to loosen her belt and undo her button. It was then with much annoyance he discovered the muggle fetish for replacing easily opened zips with countless more buttons. Her giggling brought a smile to his face, and much to his relief, she assisted him. Sliding off her boots off each foot and then undoing her own buttons, he then slowly assisted in sliding her jeans down her legs. It was like watching a beautiful bud bloom before his very eyes. He was almost unaware that while he was wrestling with uncooperative buttons that she had helped him out of his own clothes. Every inch of him begged to have contact with her. And he acquiesced to this need. It overwhelmed him. He covered her like a blanket, attempting to touch every bit of her in a single action. He wanted to kiss her, all over, but felt frustrated that he could not kiss every bit of her simultaneously. He settled instead on her mouth. A warm, delicious sensuousness which chased away any other thought from his mind. He would be a happy man if he could dwell there for an eternity. In a joint effort, each had removed the last vestiges of clothing. Annoying bits of fabric which hindered access to the full sensation of the others body. Lupin was dazed by the pinkness of her nipples and gently ran his tongue over each one. Little sighs emanated from her, her pleasure obvious much to his delight. He continued to touch her by constantly moving his hand over her, but it was when his hand moved to the softness of her inner thigh that he felt his stomach tighten. He wanted her then and there. And she took hold of him and guided him to the place he most wanted to be. Inside her. ************************* She had been stunned by his sudden move, but Tonks, for a reason which escaped her, had a sudden desperate need to investigate his mouth with her tongue. She felt his silent strength. Her hand reaching to his back, she found herself on her feet. She realised then that her need to be strong, to be independent was wavering. She also needed to be comforted, warmed by another. She hated the ways wizards dressed. They had enough layers to start an archaeological dig. Tugging at his robes, he seemed blissfully unaware of her struggle. Managing to slip him out of it, she then began her quest to rid him of the other articles of clothing. She fiddled with buttons and ties and belts but was finally rewarded with his naked skin. And it was wonderful. She had always loved the expanse of a man’s back and in the flickering red glow of the fire, he seemed to fill her line of sight. She could not help touching it over and over. Her heart was caught in her throat when he kissed her scar. She was unsure why, but there was an unspoken spirituality about his gesture. One which she would perhaps consider asking him about at some stage…but not now, it was not the moment for that. She wanted so much to absorb him, to merge with him. Every touch of skin on skin brought new quivers to her. The sensuousness of his touch was astonishing. It made her feel so very alive. His struggle with her buttons brought giggles to her. Tonks could not help thinking of her own struggles, and thought it best to assist. She knew the buttons could be nigh on impossible to undo, particularly in an emergency. The slow manner in which he peeled her jeans of made her ache for him. She was aware of how much she wanted him. Slowly caressing any area of skin accessible to her, she was torn between wanting to collect the sensations of how he felt when she touched him and how his touching felt to her. Her desire for him was reaching a peak. Kissing him gently, she traced her hand gently down the length of his body to his groin. Finding her target, she guided him into her. ************************** A desperate need for each other had brought their love making to a rapid climax. The desire for each other so great, that the moans of orgasm had filled the kitchen within a very short period of time. Holding onto one another, the sudden realisation of their location hit them and both began to laugh. Lupin was sure the only Order member to fully approve of their actions would be Sirius. Grinning to himself, he kissed Tonks with playful enthusiasm and suggested that they perhaps remedy the situation as it was not perhaps the kind of meeting commonly held in the kitchen of number 12. Looking down at Tonks with her hair spread all over the table, Lupin decided that his favourite colour was red. Returning his kiss with a smile, Tonks now knew the best way to warm her toes. Current Mood: contemplative (Comment on this)
Sunday, April 3rd, 2005
10:26 am	Bathrooms and Bedrooms Please note: this is an NC17 entry, so please stop right here if you are not of legal age. It’s been a long day filled with the day to day activities that fill an average life. I decide that I need to be renewed, so turn to the bathroom for some much needed assistance. I light some candles and start running a bath. I drop some oils into the bath, a blend of roses and lavender….soothing, womanly scents. Slowly I take off my clothing, peeling off the routine of my day. In the subtle warm glow of candlelight, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Warm skin with a slight olive hue, rounded hips and breasts. A hint of a smile crosses my face. I enjoy being a woman. I turn off the taps. I lower myself into the water. I feel the warmth of the water, my skin beginning to absorb the subtle smell of the oils. I move gently watching the ripples spread along the water. I sink into the warmth, feeling all traces of the day being evaporated. As the water becomes cooler, I decide to step out. Drying myself, I notice my skin has the pink hue that only a warm bath will bring. I catch the subtle smell of lavender and roses. I wrap myself in a bathrobe, attempting to keep the warmth and the delicious smell close to my body. I turn to go to the bedroom. I smile as I see you in bed waiting for me. I feel myself anticipating sliding under the covers to be next to you. I can feel my nipples hardening anticipating your touch. My mind is filled with nothing but thoughts of you: your touch, your smell, your skin. I peel off the robe. It falls to the ground. I slip in under the covers and into your arms. I could just stay here forever. I feel your strength and your gentleness. We begin to kiss. Slow sensual kisses. Nothing is rushed. I leisurely run my hand along your body, trying to imprint how it feels into my mind. I can feel your hardening cock pressed against me and it makes me feel increasingly aroused. I touch, caress and kiss you. Every part of your body a new adventure for me. I’m amazed and delighted by the electricity your touch generates in me. I feel myself becoming increasingly wet, wanting you, desiring you. Slowly the intensity begins to increase. I cannot quench my desire for you. An intense passion fills me. I reach for you, feeling your hands on my back, my breasts, my stomach. I feel you touch my thigh, parting my legs. You feel my clit, my pussy and you send a shiver throughout my body. A gasp escapes my lips. I feel your cock, hard, ready. Pulling you gently, kissing you hard. I can feel my desire, my need for you to fuck me becoming an obsession. I can think of nothing else. I hold you closer, wanting you inside me. I feel your cock so close to my pussy that I let a small groan out. I want you desperately. I feel you enter me. I shudder with pleasure. It’s the most delicious feeling in the world. We begin to move. Each thrust brings shovers, each thrust increases my desire, each thrust making me cry out for you. I feel your hard cock within me. We kiss, bit and touch each other as though life itself was contained within each contact. I feel myself close to coming. I beg you to keep fucking me; I am lost in you. We move quicker, fiercer. I can feel you inside me ready to explode. Wave upon wave of orgasm explodes throughout my body. I feel you come, your final thrusts increasing my own release. In the quiet I kiss you gently. I smile as I look into your eyes. I try and melt myself into you and I sigh deeply and contentedly. You stroke my hair. We stay in each others arms. I feel safe and warm. Quietly we fall asleep in an embrace that lasts an eternity. Current Mood: peaceful (5 Comments |Comment on this)