[personal profile] emeraldsnakes
emeraldsnakes: (Random - Slash)
Title: M is for Mandrake
Series: [livejournal.com profile] parrish_lorne Alphabet Soup Challenge
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis/Harry Potter
Pairing: Lorne/Parrish, implied Sheppard/Mitchell
Rating: PG-13
Words: 1,834
Summary: The Mandrakes are a lie.
Content Notice: Student/Teacher underage relationship

“Good morning Professor,” I said as I walked into the greenhouse that morning. It was like any other Thursday morning, I was the first to arrive and Professor Parrish was pruning one of the many plants in the greenhouse. I recognized the Mandrake almost immediately, not because I was any good at Herbology but because I remembered our first lesson with them when I was in second year, pulling them out of their pots and replanting them. It was hard to forget their ugly little root faces and the scream, muffled as it was by the ear muffs.

Professor Parrish looked up and smiled at me, another Thursday ritual. I had to stop myself from blushing or showing any signs of my growing crush on him. It wasn’t very appropriate of me and I didn’t want to cause any problems between us. I liked him, was amused by the way he just got so excited over plants, especially new ones. And I knew that, once I was out of school within the year I might be able to approach him for a little more than just friendship.

“Good morning Evan.” Parrish was already looking back down the Mandrake, stroking its stalk and I shifted uncomfortably.

“I didn’t think the Mandrakes were mature yet, Professor.”

I might not have been a Herbology buff but I did know a thing or two. I wasn’t taking it for NEWTS for nothing.

“Oh they aren’t. But this one comes from my personal garden and he’s just about ready to flower.”

I grimaced. Everything about Mandrakes was uncomfortable. Their flowers were as ugly as their faces, strange twisting petals that were a bit grotesque and really only desirable to a herbologist like Professor Parrish. I wondered if there was a plant that he didn’t like.

“Is that what you’re showing us today then?”

Professor Parrish looked up at me again, “No, actually I have some Fanged Geranium here for your class to harvest.”

Oh hell, I thought. We were supposed to have read up on the harvesting process during the week but I’d been caught up in my other school work I’d forgotten all about it. That certainly wouldn’t win me any favours. I wondered if leaving a perfectly to scale drawing of last week’s project would win me a few points.

Probably not, Professor Parrish wasn’t that kind of a teacher although he would probably rave about the drawing. I’d seen him do it before, although he hadn’t known it was mine. He still didn’t, actually. I wasn’t about to tell him I’d drawn the Ice Lily he now had hanging in his office. Or its companion the Fire Lily, which I’d anonymously sent to him to finish the set.

I nodded and took my usual seat near the middle of the set up tables. I didn’t like to be too close to him when he was teaching, he usually picked volunteers from those closest to him but I didn’t like to be too far away from him either. In the back I couldn’t see the way his eyes lit up whenever he was talking about a particular plant.

As the rest of my classmates filtered in during the next five minutes Professor Parrish set his Mandrake aside and wandered around the teaching area, pulling out the Fanged Geranium we would all be using.

I cringed when he approached my table, ducked my head and waited for him to finish. He was standing so close to me, I could smell the way the earth’s scent clung to him, see his lithe form under his thin robes, and god I wished I was a few years older so that I wouldn’t have to wait. So that I would have been in his year!

He was only a few years older than my 17, I remember seeing him throughout my first to fourth years mostly on his own, but sometimes with groups of people from his own house. I hadn’t even known his name then, hadn’t really noticed him. But I’d been younger then, I hadn’t even considered the possibility that I liked my own gender and I certainly would never have approached an older student from a different house. But things would have been so different if we’d have been the same age. Although I was content to know I had only a few months left before I was done school.

“I would like to talk to you later Mr. Lorne,” Professor Parrish whispered to me.

I nodded quickly and for the rest of class all I could think about was what he wanted to talk to me about. Had he figured out my feelings? Was he going to kick me out of his class, make me take a tutor for the rest of the year? I had no idea and I was so thankful for Sheppard for being my partner. At least he’d read up on the material and was catching all the mistakes I was making. Eventually he just told me to pretend I was helping while he did all the work and that I could make it up to him later.


“You wanted to speak to me Professor?”

I stood nervously in the door way to Professor Parrish’s office and looked every where but him. My eyes landed on the Ice and Fire Lilies and stayed. They were framed side by side in plain wooden frames that seemed to accent the drawings. I wondered if it was some sort of magic that made them look like that. I didn’t really know; I hadn’t had all that much time to study how art was done in the Magical World, being Muggleborn myself.

“Evan, yes. Please come in.”

I looked at the Professor briefly. He was sitting at his desk, outer work robe removed leaving him in a simple shirt and pants outfit. He was so wiry thin, but that, for not being my usual type, appealed to me.

I quickly entered, closing the door and took a seat. My eyes found my framed drawings again, almost on impulse and I think Professor Parrish’s eyes followed mine.

“They’re quite the masterpiece,” he said and I flushed with pleasure. “Not many artists can capture the subtle ways the Fire and Ice Lilies differ from their non-magical counterpart.”

“They’re kind of obvious sir,” I couldn’t help but tell him.

I froze and glanced at him but he was smiling me, like he already knew.

“I though it would be to you,” he said. “You drew these.”

I nodded slowly, “How’d you know?”

“I saw your sketch book several weeks ago. You’re very good Evan.”

Evan. He always said my name when we were alone. No other professor ever did. I wondered why I hadn’t noticed that before. My heart fluttered then started beating loudly in my chest. It was a wonder he couldn’t hear it.

“Thank you,” I blushed and ducked my head again.

“I saw some of your other drawings too,” and at that my eyes widened. What could he mean by that? Because my sketch books had a variety of subjects, plants, the school, my classmates. Sheppard primarily, since he was my best friend and was always doing something that made me want to capture on paper. Sometimes he was with Cameron, sometimes I would spy on them. Those drawings were in their own charmed sketch book, along with the drawings of Professor Parrish. I had a few books full of Professor Parrish. Had I left that book out? I was usually very careful about where I took it when it wasn’t in my trunk.

I licked my lips, “What exactly did you see sir?”

He smiled, “nothing you need to worry about, if that’s what your asking. Although I wonder what you would need to be worried about. Drawing things you shouldn’t, Evan?”

“Of course not sir,” I immediately replied and he laughed. He had a bit of a strange laugh, but I liked it.

There was silence for a while, and I looked up at him to see him watching me thoughtfully. “Sir?”

“What do you normally draw in my class Evan?”

“You,” I blurted.

Shit, my big mouth. I was out of my chair in seconds and heading for the door but I didn’t make it. I didn’t hear Professor Parrish behind me but I guess he followed and the next thing I knew he had me pressed up against the wall, staring down at me with intense blue eyes and this was everything in my dreams and more.

I never imagined he would do this, not in the beginning. I always thought I’d have to convince him to give us a chance, show him that I wasn’t his student anymore, make him look past the two years he taught me and see me as an adult. I never thought…

I surged up and kissed him.
I’m not a big kisser, though I find it quite the pleasurable act when that’s all I’m doing. I think there are better things I or my boyfriend could be doing with our mouths and hands. I like seeing the effect I have, seeing their eyes close in pleasure, their body arch and react to my touch. I can’t really do that when my mouth is preoccupied and my eyes either closed or focused on their own.

He pulled back after what felt like seconds. Maybe it was seconds. Time gets kind of confused when I’m caught in the moment and I was definitely caught in that because there’s no way I can really describe how I felt. Or what it felt like because I’m not very good at describing physical feelings.

“We can’t do this Evan,” Professor Parrish said, breathless.


“It’s David.”

I blinked. I knew that, I think. Professor Weir announced him properly at the opening meal last year I just, I never though of him by his first name. He’d always been Professor Parrish, like all my other professors. I felt so, I don’t know but he’d given me permission to use his name!

“David. Please.”

“We can’t,” he said again. “Not yet. I like my job.”

He didn’t move away from me and I stared up into his eyes and catalogued the feeling of him against me because any moment now he would move, I wasn’t kidding myself. He would move and all I would have to remember this by was sensations, nothing like the real thing but all I’d have to make due with.

But, to my surprise he kissed me this time, a light press of our lips, and then again, and again and apparently he had about as much self control as I did because it took him longer this time to stop. And when he did he whispered in my ear and backed off fully.

I left then, and wandered to my dorm with only one thing on my mind: the words David had whispered. “Draw yourself for me.”
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