VI. FIFI CREAMS THE COMPETITION

"And that's where things have stood for months," Hymenea said from inside the shower. After their experience escaping from the arena together, things had changed between Hymenea and her temporary roommate, Fifi. She suddenly felt that she could tell her anything, and it was nice to have a friend that she could share these feelings with. Perhaps Hymenea wasn't the ice queen she sometimes felt like. Hogwallow could be awfully cut-throat, and she had never given a second thought to doing whatever it took to get ahead of her rivals. She had already apologized for pushing Fifi into the mud in the first place, a revelation Fifi had taken with better humor than Hymenea deserved.

"He is simply shy," Fifi said from outside the bathroom. "Even with my spell, he was a perfect gentleman."

"A perfect gentleman!" Hymenea exclaimed, turning off the water and wrapping herself in a towel. "I'd like him to be a little less gentle sometimes, if you take my meaning! Anyway, it's all yours."

Hymenea stepped out of the bathroom and was surprised to see Fifi sitting naked on her own bed, one leg extended straight out, almost done licking herself clean. No wonder Fifi always waited until Hymenea was gone to finish her toilet.

Hymenea turned to her own vanity and tried to forget what she had just seen, pulling a brush through her long, curly hair. By the time she had finished and pulled on a silk negligee, Fifi had finished cleaning herself and now lolled naked on the bed, her ears perky and her tail playfully erect.

"Again, I am sorree zat I tried to take Garree from you," Fifi said, "but I had no idea! You never speak about him! When he approaches you, you turn away! I have seen zis."

"I guess I got tired of throwing myself at him." Hymenea blushed, thinking back to the forward behavior that had done nothing more than attract unwelcome attention from Wrong Wienersley and make an enemy of Venerea von Teton.

"Zen you just have to be more subtle." Fifi sat up; a plan was taking form in her mind. "Listen. If you are determined to win Garree, I shall help you with all of my wisdom and experience. Are you readdee?"

Hymenea nodded.

"When you and zis boy are kisseeng . . . stick your tongue in his mouth."

Hymenea was taking notes on a pad. "In . . . his . . . mouth. Got it. Then what?"

Fifi looked at Hymenea blankly. "Zat's it."

Hymenea set her pencil down. "Wait, that's it? I'm pretty sure we have tongue-kissing here in England."

Fifi drew herself up haughtily. "Oh, reallee? Well, perhaps I should be ze judge of zat. Show me how you do it here." The French cat girl crawled to where Hymenea was sitting cross-legged on the bed and said breathily, "Pretend I am zis Garree. Kiss me, ma cherie." She presented her puckered lips to Hymenea.

Reluctantly, Hymenea kissed Fifi, lips to lips. Fifi giggled. "I thought you said you were experienced. Show me again. Remember, I am Garree."

Gary, Hymenea thought, picturing the handsome boy wizard in her mind's eye, this is what I want to do to you. She closed her eyes and leaned in again, parting her lips ever so gently, welcoming Fifi's questing tongue and matching it with her own.

"Eww!" She drew back, suddenly remembering all the parts of Fifi's body she had seen her licking. "It feels like sandpaper!"

"Well, what did you expect? Relax, pomme de terre, and remember Garree."

Once more Hymenea pictured Gary and imagined it was his hands that held her face, his lips caressing her own, and his warm body that leaned in close. She overcame the initial surprise of feeling Fifi's rough tongue and explored with her own, feeling Fifi's sharp canine teeth and tasting her mouse-flavored lip gloss.

"Zere, zat was not so hard," murmured Fifi as they came up for air. "Do zey have zis in England as well?" she asked as they continued kissing and Fifi gently squeezed Hymenea's ripe breasts.

"Mm hmm," Hymenea answered; they did, but she didn't stop Fifi. At last letting her notepad and pencil fall to the floor, she responded in kind, rubbing the cat girl's tits and following suit as Fifi's hands wandered all over Hymenea's lithe body. The feel of the French girl's touch on her silk-clad body sent a tingle down her spine to her loins, and before she knew it she was letting Fifi remove her wispy nightwear to lie together, skin to skin. Fifi was warm, her mouth hot; Hymenea could feel the girl's heart beating rapidly, while her own thudded in her chest like a drumbeat.

Ah! Fifi's nimble fingers had found the entrance to Hymenea's womanhood and were eagerly making their case to be let in, massaging and stroking her rhythmically. Hymenea gasped and opened her thighs wide, lying back in pleasure.

There was only the slightest interruption as Fifi stopped. "Stay still, mon petite biblioteque," Fifi whispered. Fifi's velvety tail continued teasing Hymenea as the French feline busied herself. There was the popping sound of a bottle opening, and then Hymenea stiffened in shock as a cool liquid struck her chest and ran in rivulets down the side of her body. "Shh, shh," Fifi calmed her. The bottle she held was full of thick cream; she continued pouring it onto Hymenea's body, starting at her chest and working her way down to her crotch.

"Mmm," Hymenea sighed, "is this something they do in France, too?"

Fifi shrugged. "It is more of a cat thing." The bottle empty, she leaned over Hymenea and began lapping the spilled cream from her breasts, her belly, and her thighs. Her sandpapery tongue, combined with the cool liquid, now felt heavenly on Hymenea's skin. It was so unique: Hymenea had been slathered in all kinds of messy stuff in the last few weeks, but this was so subtle and gentle that she didn't feel dirty at all. Fifi was cleaning her as Hymenea had seen the cat girl clean herself: now she understood the appeal.

"Wait, I am not finished yet," Fifi said in response to Hymenea's moans of pleasure, cream dribbling down her chin: "I have saved ze best for last." At that she put her head between Hymenea's thighs and began licking the cream from Hymenea's mound, pushing that rough little tongue into the smooth channel of her split. As thorough inside as she had been outside, Fifi soon had Hymenea clutching her pillows and groaning in ecstasy: never had she been taken to such heights except by her own hand.

Afterwards, Hymenea sighed as the two of them lay together, their bare limbs tangled together. "I feel so awful for the way I treated you," Hymenea murmured, idly scratching Fifi under her chin.

The French girl purred in contentment, nearly asleep, and said, "I told you not to worry about zat. It was a misunderstanding."

"I know," Hymenea continued, her neurotic tendencies taking over as the halo of post-orgasmic bliss faded. "I just wish there was something I could do for you like you've done for me."

"But you did," Fifi giggled, "or have you forgotten already?" Once begun, Hymenea had found it easy to reciprocate Fifi's oral advances.

"No, of course not," Hymenea said, "but that's not what I mean. I want to do something for you outside of the bedroom."

"Oh," Fifi said, and Hymenea detected a shift in Fifi's body language, as if there were something left unspoken.

"What is it?" Hymenea said.

"Oh . . . c'est pas de rien," Fifi said.

"No, really. What is it?"

Fifi sat up; she looked ravishing with her hair disheveled by lovemaking, the crumpled sheets pulled up around her chest in quite irrelevant modesty. "I feel bad zat we took attention away from your friend, Venerea."

It was Hymenea's turn to avert her eyes. "She's not my friend." She found herself recounting her feud with the buxom Slipperin champion: how they had ended up cursing each other in Charms class, and the disastrous fight with Bubastis at the Shag Club that Venerea had engineered.

Fifi listened in sympathy and finally said, "Perhaps she is as tired of fighting as you. Attendez," she pressed on, "maybe zis is your chance to, 'ow you say, 'bury ze hatchet?' Are you going to ze medal ceremony zis evening?"

"I hadn't planned on it," Hymenea admitted. She had already spent more time in the arena today than any other time, including Gary's dumb Cribbage games that she had found excuses to duck out of early.

"Go, be a friend to your schoolmate. Support her, and I will send along a present to show zere are no hard feelings. D'accord?"

Hymenea shook her head; her new friend never ceased to astound her. Here Hymenea had offered to do something for Fifi, and she had redirected that kindness to someone who needed it even more. Maybe Fifi was right: if she was willing to meet Venerea halfway, maybe they could be friends. There was really nothing more than their own pride standing in the way. Who knew? If Hymenea approached life as openly and sincerely as Fifi did, perhaps she would find doors opening at Hogwallow that she hadn't even realized were closed to her--doors within herself, and her capacity to love. Maybe even to be loved, by Gary Splotter most of all?

"All right," Hymenea agreed. "I'll give it a try. What have I got to lose?"

+++

At Fifi's urging, Hymenea returned to the arena; the floating platforms and sea of mud were still in place, but the largest platform in the center had a raised dais on top of it. The stands were filled with the gathered students from both schools, hushed in anticipation. The front rows made up the reserved seating for student competitors, administrators and faculty of both schools, and invited guests. Hymenea didn't have a reserved seat, but she stepped down from the student bleachers to approach Venerea with the gift Fifi had made for her.

"Ah, Miss Gunger," said Professor Shaghorn, his considerable bulk wedged into one of the little chairs. He stood as she approached. "That was quite a . . . performance . . . earlier at the finals."

Put on the spot, Hymenea could only smile. "Yes, I guess so."

"No guesses about it! It was positively heroic! You're a real credit to Stiffendor, and to Hogwallow, my dear. Good thing you got your wand fixed, wot?" In his eyes Hymenea could see an inkling of suspicion, and perhaps disappointment: she had weaseled the Slipperin password out of him, and if he suspected that their "private consultation" was merely a pretext, he might change it before she could take advantage of it.

"Yes, yes it was. I wanted to thank you for help, Professor, but, uh . . . it turned out to be just a Wienersley squib, and Wrong, er, got his brothers to reverse it for me. So, thanks anyway!"

"Just know that I'm available to help anytime you need it, Miss Gunger. Any time."

Ugh! Hymenea hurried along. She would have to deal with that later. Perhaps if Fifi were right, she wouldn't even need a convoluted mystery to win Gary's affections. No, a new Hymenea Gunger, a more open and sincere Hymenea, was here, starting now.

"Venerea?" she said nervously, approaching her once-hated rival.

The Slipperin champion turned from the friends she was talking to and said, "Oh, it's you. What do you want, Gunger?" Venerea von Teton wore a dazzling white gown with an embroidered bodice that thrust her ample bust up and out. Her ebony hair cascaded in glossy black ringlets down her swan-like neck to her bare shoulders. She radiated haughty disdain.

"I just wanted to apologize for upstaging you at the finals . . . and for everything else that's happened," Hymenea said. "I was hoping we could make a fresh start." Hymenea's heart pounded; her mouth was dry. To her surprise, she felt something that she hadn't felt in a long time: she cared. She wanted Venerea to be her friend. Fifi had been right. As scary as it was, it felt good to get it out in the open, to put herself on the line.

Venerea tilted an eyebrow doubtfully as Hymenea continued, the words spilling out unbidden: "I know we've said--and done--terrible things to each other, but it doesn't have to be that way. If Hogwallow and Chatroulet can come together in fellowship, then I just know Stiffendor and Slipperin can do the same. If not friendship, then at least a truce. What do you say?"

"Well . . ." Venerea said, a crack of doubt appearing in her imperious facade, "you've caught me in a good mood, and it took a lot of guts to say that. I agree that our little feud has been . . . distracting, amusing as it may have been to toy with you for a while. So, sure. Truce."

"I want you to have this," Hymenea said. She held out the friendship bracelet Fifi had made; it was made of long pieces of green soapstone and jade braided together with cord, matching the reptilian aesthetic of Slipperin House.

"Oh," Venerea said, surprised. She was being called to the dais, so she said only, "okay. Whatever." She slid it onto her wrist next to her watch and turned to ascend the platform for her medal.

Hymenea hurried back to her seat, where Gary and Wrong were waiting for her. "Where's Fifi?" Hymenea asked the boys. They shrugged.

There wasn't much to the ceremony: just a few comments from Headmaster Dumplinggang and Madame Ocelotte, the Chatroulet administratrix. The heady triumph of the Hogwallow student body was contrasted with the muted defeat of the Chatroulets, soon to return to their home country. Hymenea scanned the crowd for Fifi, but didn't see her. Then it was time for Venerea to get what was coming to her; standing at the top of the dais, she looked angelic in her white gown--the last image that Hymenea would have associated with her erstwhile rival just a day before, but there it was.

Hymenea knew something was wrong before Venerea did. As the head of the Magical Sporting Commission prepared to place the gold medal around Venerea's neck, the green bracelet sparked and glowed, and Venerea became transparent, like a ghost. Her eyes widened in surprise as, suddenly insubstantial, she fell through the solid platform as if it weren't there.

In the time it took the audience to gasp and lurch to its collective feet, Venerea had become solid enough to land in the thick mud below with an enormous splat. She moaned in humiliation and anger, her mind catching up with the sudden change in her physical location.

At the same time, Fifi LeMieux and Kiki Dommage rushed the platform, unfurling an enormous banner that read "VIVE CHATROULET!!!! XOXO". The Os were shaped like little hearts. They whooped and yowled, and the Chatroulets burst into feral cheers; the outraged Hogwallow students surged toward them. There was bound to be a riot.

Hymenea was stunned. While the teachers and administrators struggled to keep order, she pushed her way toward Fifi. "You used me," she said to the French cat girl. "How could you do this to me?"

Fifi shrugged. She was back in her skin-tight uniform but had added black smudges under her eyes for a bit of martial flair. "Come now, cherie," she said, "you wanted to see Venerea take a fall as much as I did. I just helped you take your much-deserved revenge."

Hymenea shook her head in disbelief. "That's not true at all. What happened to making friends and healing old wounds?"

Fifi looked at Hymenea with an expression almost like pity. "We had some fun," she said, "but what is ze expression? 'Be true to your school.' Desolee!" She blew her a kiss as she melted into the crowd of feline revelers.

Below, Venerea struggled to right herself as wizards and witches attempted to levitate her out of the mire. Her dress and skin were slick with mud. She saw Hymenea and her mascara-streaked eyes narrowed with fury. "I'll get you for this, Gunger!" she screamed; she continued showering Hymenea with invective until Hymenea could take no more.

She turned and started looking for Gary. All she found was Wrong, with his shirt around his waist, grinding with a pair of cat girls while Hogwallows and Chatroulets zapped each other with wands all around him. "Gary? I dunno," he said, shaking his head, "but some of us are going skinny dipping in the moat later--these Chatroulets really know how to party! Care to join in? No?" He ignored Hymenea's disapproval and went back to dancing to the music that only he could hear.

At least Wrong was exactly who he appeared to be, Hymenea thought, sighing: if only everyone else were so easy to read. Thanks to Fifi LeMieux, she was right back where she started.

TO BE CONTINUED . . .