Practice was killing him. Who knew being off the team for a good year would make him have to work twice as hard to keep up with the little sugar high snot nosed wannabe’s at try outs? Not that he was out of shape! Just… that he hadn’t put as much effort into his fitness as he had before when he was on the team. And Nina was a slave driver who forgot friendship boundaries from practice started to when it ended. And then she wanted to make small talk!

George didn’t wait around for Nina to come out, nor did he wait for anyone else. He told Sebastian he needed to check on a few things, and so he jogged up to the castle. Stopping at the great hall, George grabbed a small snack (and by small, of course, it meant a handful of biscuits and rolls, and a glass of water). He was a growing boy, after all! He had a couple of the said deliciousness on the way up, taking the stairs as quickly as he could so he didn’t get caught on one as it turned.

He had thrown himself into his relationship and into practice after he found out about his aunt. If he didn’t… he would have lost any desire for anything. Waker kept him fairly distracted, helped him when he was bothered by it, and offered him a shoulder. When he finally reached the tower, he wished he would have seen her on the way up. Soon, perhaps… That only made him want to get showered quicker.

 Tossing his gear to the side of his bed, George picked up a few of his clothes, stuffing them down into his hamper. The elves had all ready gotten to his bed… and it looked inviting. But no! He had to shower and go see Waker. Stuffing another roll into his mouth, he enjoyed the taste as he followed it with a gulp of water. What else was there to do before he headed to the showers?

He unstrapped his pads, slipping them off his arms before adding it to the pile of forgotten gear. Next to his bed rested a glowing photo of Waker walking down the beach. He’d enjoyed his summer… and felt an odd feeling in his stomach at the idea of more summers like that with her. He rushed in tugging the other one off his arm, picking up a towel, and starting for the door. It wasn’t until he was in the showers that he decided he forgot something.

He took the stairs two at a time, groaning as he reached the top; he was going to be so sore… Pushing open the door, he started to tug at the shirt, pulling it halfway up. He noticed someone else there. “Oh, hey, did you happen to bring up more biscuits with you?” He thought it was Sebastian, come back from practice. “Did Nina ream you for your lack of bat action?” Smirking, he tugged the shirt over his head and turned to toss it in the hamper, his mouth opening in surprise as his eyes opened in shock.

Waker had timed it down to the millisecond. She’d memorized the Gryffindor quidditch practice schedule ages ago, and knew they’d be due back to the tower any moment. She stood behind a statue of an ugly little man on the shoulders of a larger, plainer man in a pointy hat. The stone crevices of their faces reminded Waker of muggle cartoon strips in the Sunday newspapers back home. For some reason, as ridiculous as they looked, they were comforting. So was the fact that Ravenclaw tower, Miss Nolan’s own turf, happened to share a floor with the lions’ den. The close proximity would allow for an easier alibi, should she be caught.

Caught... “What are you doing, Waker?!” She whispered to herself. She resisted the urge to pinch her own arm in that cliche, melodramatic movie scene manner. For someone so usually by-the-books-- and frankly, often to annoying degree-- she had spent a great deal of time planning this devious act. Premeditated rebellion. It was even in her planner. In code, of course.

Her heart jumped when she saw George climb through the portrait hole. She immediately pressed herself into the wall, pulling up the hood of her black school cloak. It seemed ages before he reappeared. Her wand was practically glued to her palm when he disappeared in the direction of the showers.

Swiftly, before her brain could stop her legs with a resounding ‘NO!’, Waker shot for the portrait of the Fat Lady. She gave the password she’d most casually gleaned off of a Gryffindor Prefect (for a mock security appraisal), and fumbled through the round threshold like a deer being chased. She moved so quickly and gracelessly that the portrait hadn’t any time to notice Waker did not belong.

Her heavy brown gaze widened like an owl’s as she scanned the room. Most people were away at club meetings, team practices, late afternoon study sessions, or an early dinner. For a brief moment, the Ravenclaw believed she’d miraculously stumbled in when the place was completely barren. But the near-stupid grin of relief forming on her bees-tung lips twitched away when she caught sight of a tiny boy hanging over the back of an armchair near the fire. The chair was at least thrice his size, and only half his face and all of his fingers were visible. “Dormitory inspections,” she explained quickly, giving him a sort of awkward nod and uncomfortable smile. She reached into the pocket of her cloak and pulled out her Head Girl badge. It hit the light coming in from the window, and the boy disappeared again, apparently satisfied with the answer-- or too frightened to ask questions.

Dashing up to the boy’s side, she counted numbers until she found what had to be the seventh year boys’ dorm. Pushing it open so painfully slow that she might have been shutting it, she peaked in. Empty. She threw the door open, darted through, and closed it again, leaning against its back for a moment’s breath.

She glided slowly to the center of the room, removing her cloak as she did so. It was most obviously male territory. And took little time to find George’s spot. Waker blushed, but then bunched her cheeks into a smile as she caught sight of the framed picture beside his bed.

Beneath her cloak, she wore a loose red jersey, emblazoned with the Gryffindor coat of arms. The back had George’s surname and team number. She wore the modest, baggy sports top with a rather compromising pair of bottoms-- red, hip-hugging knickers. The simple black flats she’d slipped on to appear unassuming, came off with ease, and she sat on the side of George’s bed, poking around his little nightstand.

And so when the door opened, Waker almost died. Shooting up to her feet, she froze in place. But then she realized who it was-- evidently before he realized who she was-- and her shoulders loosened. Smiling a bit sheepishly, she looked down at the floor. "I was thinking we could... do something. If you're not busy." She recalled their intimate moment in the library and blushed. Raising her eyes demurely to meet his, she wondered why he was undressing already-- and how on earth he had got back to his dorm so fast. This wasn't part of her plan! She hadn't even done all the corny romantic stuff, like light candles or brush her hair. "I think I'm ready," she elaborated offhandedly. "Did you really just shower that quickly?"

It was lucky for George that he was farther away from the door than his mates. He was near the window, in fact, giving him a nice view of the outside, a bird’s eye view of what to see. Right then, though, it helped hide the identity of who was in there with him, having just noticed a presence out of the corner of his eye. Not in a million years, and certainly not for a million galleons, would George have suspected Waker would be the one in his room.

And then his eyes took in her, standing in front of his bed. And his mouth had yet to close. The practice jersey hung limply from his hand, both still in midair as if he were about to shoot it into the hamper, but froze midway. Which, in reality, he had. He made another trail down her body, and he knew she belonged in his jersey. A slow grin appeared on his lips and he knew he wasn’t going to question why she suddenly chose to break about a half dozen rules.

“I was thinking we could… do something. If you’re not busy.”

A noise escaped him as he tried to draw in a breath, something between a moan and a clearing of his throat. He closed his mouth and frowned at himself, shrugging as nonchalantly as he could, stiffly making his way to his bed. Tossing the jersey to his pile of clothes, almost overflowing from his hamper, he grinned again and licked his lips. “I’m always up for something.” He would make time for her. Especially if she was going to keep the lack of leg cover going on. “You look amazing. The jersey fits you well.” Or the bagginess of it made her outfit. For whatever reason, the selfish guy in George liked her wearing his name.

“I think I’m ready.”

Once again, his mouth opened like a first year stepping on the Hogwarts Express, and his eyes widened. He did clear his throat this time, nodding very slowly in agreement. If he understood, and he hoped he did, then what were they doing still standing there?

“Did you really just shower that quickly?”

Blinking, he glanced down at himself, seeing the sweat and dirt still on his arm, making a face. What must his face look like?! Laughing, he looked up at her sheepishly. “If I did, my mum would be disgraced to call me her son.” He suddenly felt foolish, running all the way back up here for a pair of clean boxers to change into. He could just hug the towel close and jog back up to the room. A little late now.

His eyes moved from her face down once again to her lovely knickers, grinning before giving her a gentle kiss. “Are you…” He looked at her face, frowning just slightly as he considered her statement. “Are you sure?” He let out a soft chuckle. “I mean, you look ready. You look… amazing.” His eyes once again moved down, unable to stay in one place for too long. And he suddenly felt incredibly dirty. Glancing back to the door, he winced. Maybe Sebastian would partake in a huge dinner, stuff himself to the brim, and get stuck playing wizard chess with some annoying… second year or something.

Turning his gaze back to his girlfriend, he took her hand and gently squeezed it. “I…” He what. Needed a shower? Obviously. Wanted her? That was becoming more obvious. “Don’t want to get your amazing jersey messy.” But he leaned forward anyway, pressing against her lips and parting them in a deepening kiss. He pulled back, tugging lightly on her lower lip before letting it go. “I could shower that quickly.”

She couldn’t help but feel a pleasant little electric jolt as she watched him. However often Waker was jittery or nervous, this was the good kind of jittery, and the exciting kind of nervous, the kind that came with untouched territory and being the one to initiate the venture. “You might want to figure out whether you want your jersey on or off before we start talking about...” That.

But George didn’t need her help. He approached, discarding the garment with apparent ease, whatever his expression and strangled breath might lead one to believe. Waker tried not to look too terribly pleased with herself as he sat down beside her. It was hardly appropriate. ‘Hello, I’ve just showed up uninvited in your bedroom, in my knickers with your name on my back, and I’d like to have a shag. But first, let me pat myself on the back. Which, yes, still has your name on it.’ No, no, no. She was a guest here. (Uninvited, but still a guest.)

Leaning back on her elbows just a bit, she abandoned her proper poise and stared up at him. Even if she wasn’t trying to congratulate herself this very dangerous plan, George’s words persuaded her to bring out the minxy side she usually reserved for him. She was sure to stretch a bit as he complimented her.

His nod brought a tinge of pink to her cheeks, but the deep red of the Gryffindor bed hangings added a certain duskiness to the already-late afternoon. To hide her embarrassment-- had she really been so blunt, just blurted it out that she wanted it?-- she lifted a hand to his cheek, first grazing it with her knuckles and then dragging a finger down his jawline as if tracing a windowsill for dust. She laughed. His mother? Well, thank merlin she wasn’t here, because Waker hardly believed George’s record-breaking showers were what she might scold him for. The girl stretched across his bed in her knickers, however...

She leaned up, kissing him back softly. “Mmhmm... I would never break into Gryffindor common room and risk losing all of my house’s points unless I was sure I wanted...” She leaned back again, placing her head on the blanket. She attempted to drag him down with her, her hand on his shoulder. “To score points with you.” And by that, she didn’t mean wanting to please him. (Though she did mean that, too). But to, as the kids in the corridors would say, score.

“I think we’re going to get messy anyway,” she pointed out. It was an obvious fact. Waker hated messes, but there were genres of mess, and some were perfectly acceptable-- expected and welcomed, even-- in certain situations. But she knew what he meant, and she kissed him back, shaking her head stubbornly so that their noses tickled each other’s. “George Jacob Carter, you’re a wizard.”

Finally, she sat up again, combing a hand through her hair. She looked at him in a rather motherly way before sighing and standing up. Crossing the room-- stopping only momentarily to grab her wand from the discarded cloak-- she hovered over the table where a jar, basin, and fresh cloths sat. There were also empty goblets, and a little stack of soap bars, courtesy of the elves. She tapped her wand against the jar, and it filled with water. Steam rolled in slow motion waves over its edges. Lifting it gingerly, she carried it back to where he sat, along with a bar of soap. “Do you have a raincoat for the floor?” And they couldn't forget a cloth or something to scrub with...

“You might want to figure out whether you want your jersey on or off before we start talking about…”

His eyes widened quickly. “Off.” Then he thought about it. “On?” He grimaced. Why was this such a hard question?! But she did look amazing in it. “Off… soon…” She was so tempting, but he could wait a little. Wait. She was offering to take it off? His brain wasn’t functioning as fast as his mouth. And something else was way too fast. Focus, George, Focus. Wait—what were they going to talk about? A shaky breath came in.

It only became harder to focus when she leaned back on his bed. He was never going to look at it the same. In fact… he thought it should always have her on it. They hadn’t really talked about after Hogwarts, other than possible career choices of Waker. He’d avoided that topic for himself like the plague… or like studying for a test. Still… if this could be a change to what he was used to outside of school… Then maybe he wouldn’t avoid the topic as much as normal.

He turned towards her a little, leaning on an arm as he looked her over. He smiled against her hand, accepting the kiss excitedly, grinning wide against her lips.

“Mmhmm… I would never break into Gryffindor common room and risk losing all of my house’s points unless I was sure I wanted…”

And then she was laying down on his bed. On his bed, in just her knickers and a jersey. And his head was about to explode. He licked his lips, his eyes taking a few moments to themselves before he settled on her face, smirking a little. He was sure, Waker the Perfect Prefect, could figure out a way out of it were she caught. And George didn’t plan on that now that she was there… Who would think to look for her in his dorm anyway?

“To score points with you.”

George needed oxygen. And so he took it in a few catch up breaths. “Fifty points to Ravenclaw. For every minute.” Winking, he rested a hand on her knee. If anything, he realized how much he cared for his little rebellious sweetheart. Well, rebellious for the right reasons. Or… he thought they were the right reasons. And she stated the obvious; they would get dirty. If anything that only made his stomach tighten more; it was really going to happen.

“George Jacob Carter, you’re a wizard.”

He chuckled and rubbed his nose back against hers, grasping her thigh and leaning over her a little. “You noticed my wand?” He rolled his eyes and sat up so she could. But then he wondered why he even let her up. His mouth opened in sudden realization. It closed just as soon, though. She was in his dorm, on his bed. She wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon… He hoped.

“Do you have a raincoat for the floor?”

He’d watched her get everything together, and realized halfway through what she was planning. Laughing, he stood up and rummaged through his things, finally tugging out something. He laid it out, one of his cloaks for quidditch. Accepting the bar of soap, he kissed her gently. “Thanks…” It wasn’t long before he had a worked up soapy bar in his hands. He started with his upper body, washing the dirt off his hands, watching her a moment.

He felt his cheeks flush and he glanced down into the water. A short while later, and he was sitting back on the bed in a pair of comfortable pajama trousers, the towels he’d used to wipe up the water in a pile near his hamper. He reached out and took her hand, tugging her to him. “You’re amazing.” Wrapping his arms around her waist, kissing her stomach through the jersey, he grinned and looked up at her. “I’m glad to see you’re wearing it.” He lifted it and kissed her again, this time against her warm skin, grinning. “Is this your outfit for the Halloween Ball? I’m all for it.”

It took Waker a moment to understand. She stared at him, and then laughed, shaking her head and sweeping her palm over her brow. “I meant your shirt,” she clarified. “The one you’re wearing. Or were wearing.” Her eyes shot to the hamper. He had expert aim, really. Which, she supposed, was a good thing for Keeper’s to have. “Mine will...” Obviously come off? She couldn’t say the words, even now, after having so casually mentioned being ‘ready’ (oh, and sneaking into Gryffindor tower in her knickers).

Fooling around on his bed came more naturally than she’d thought. She’d been worried she might be too paranoid to actually go through with it. What if Analiza Snark decided to cancel her usual Headmistress-y duties, and took a stroll up the seventh year Gryffindor boys’ dorm at this exact hour, and discover Waker Nolan in George Carter’s bed? It was not, mathematically speaking, impossible.

But his lips were as comforting and welcoming as ever, and she laughed against him when he awarded her points. “Can you do that?” She teased. “If you’re really a professor in disguise, you’d better tell me now.” She squirmed under him just a bit, squeezing her eyes and smiling with bunched cheeks.

After attempting to persuade him not to wander off to the showers again, she pressed her face momentarily into his neck, blushing and still smiling when he brought his ‘wand’. She gave him a tiny, playful slap (nothing like the one she’d gifted him in Potions several weeks ago) before pulling away to gather the get-George-squeaky-clean-as-fast-as-humanly-possible materials.

And they really did manage it in a brilliantly brief amount of time. It was sort of amazing, how their combined work ethic became stronger when such things as... readiness... were on the line.

“You’re amazing.”

“Thanks, I think you’ve mentioned that once or twice.” She played with his hair and felt her body growing warmer as he kissed her stomach. A sort of electric jolt shot through her as she recalled the last time his lips had made it anywhere near there. The second kiss tickled and she wiggled a bit, but held in her laughter. “You’re amazing, too.” She sat up on her elbows just a bit, her expression suddenly growing slightly less happy. “Are you sure you soaked up all the water? What if your roommates slip in it or see the spots on the floor? Then you’ll have to make up story about a leaky ceiling or...” No, no. Stop worrying.

She fell back onto the mattress and stared up at said ceiling. Perfectly dry. Her hands moved back down, roaming until they found George’s cheek. “This is not my costume, thanks very much. This is only for you. I don’t not wear something on my legs to formal events.”

“Come up here,” she added after a moment, sounding like the same stubborn disciplinarian she was for so many bratty third years. “Please,” she added more softly.

He’d been in the process of removing the jersey when he’d noticed her, so it was all ready mostly off when they started talking about it, right? He was allowed to reference the jersey she was wearing. Smirking, he shrugged and watched her, his eyes glancing over the emblem, following the colors down to the edge. There should be a Quidditch calendar, and Waker could be every month. For his personal calendar, anyway.

“Can you do that? If you’re really a professor in disguise, you’d better tell me now.”

His eyebrows rose quickly, and he laughed. “I can be a professor at something…” His finger trailed up her thigh, smirking. “I can give you my points.” They were more important, or at least cooler, than house points. In George’s opinion… and Waker was the only one earning them right then. And the only one he wanted to give them to. He bit his lower lip and grinned around it. “Or you can earn detention.” He winked at her, grinning mischievously.

The playful slap only made him laugh again. He loved how playful she could be. Rolling his eyes, he shied away from the hand.

“Thanks, I think you’ve mentioned that once or twice.”

“Probably. I can’t talk with you around.” He closed his eyes as she played with his hair, smiling against her skin. Then she called him amazing too, and he chuckled against her stomach, kissing it again. “Mmm… I know.” Then he moved his face quickly back and forth to tickle her, giving her stomach a raspberry before looking up at her.

“Are you sure you soaked up all the water? What if your roommates slip in it or see the spots on the floor? Then you’ll have to make up story about a leaky ceiling or…”

He glanced back to the area behind them, raising an eyebrow as he looked for the offending forgotten water. “If they slip in it, Waker, that’s their own problem…” Then he tickled her side gently, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it. I can come up with something on the fly.” He rubbed against her hand, an airy laugh escaping him as he glanced up at her.

“This is not my costume, thanks very much. This is only for you. I don’t not wear something on my legs to formal events.”

He let his hands move along her sides, slowly up as his lips once again found her warm, inviting skin. “I like this ‘only for you’ outfit. Are there more?” His eyebrows rose as he glanced back down, closing his eyes. She smelled very faintly of apples; that was one of his favorite smells. He bit her lightly, teasingly, before he thought about the Halloween party.

“Come up here.”

He lifted his head and sat up slightly, biting his lower lip. When she said ‘please,’ he pushed himself up onto his hands, moving one knee between her legs, slowly moving over her, keeping himself pressed up against her. Finally, George reached her lips, pressing against his prize, grinning wide. “Whatever you command.” Moving his hand underneath her, he gripped her shoulder, leaning his head back. “So do you have an idea of what you want to wear for the Halloween Ball?” His eyes flashed. “You are going with me…” He hadn't asked her, just assumed she knew that.

“Your points? What are-- detention!” The D word. It was obscene. Even while snogging George. Part of Waker had the terrible urge to sit up and check the dormitory door. Or put something on the knob, like they did in muggle movies. But then that would just invite people in, wouldn’t it? Boys. And surely, it would give her away. And then she’d earn the very detention she feared. She sighed and heavily and went back to kissing him. Slowly, cautiously, as if occupied for the moment. “If we get caught, it’ll be expulsion.”

“Probably. I can’t talk with you around.”

“Sure you can. You’re very good at it.” She remembered their first real encounter, in the Trophy Room. “Your verbal suaveness is the reason I got my internship,” she said, poking his cheek just before he tickled her. She squirmed under his mouth and tried to hold in her laughter again. It was beginning to hurt her sides, and she was sure her face was turning blue. “I guess... you could... come up with... a lie,” she breathed heavily in her effort to keep from bursting. “Since you’re so good at talking.”

“I like this ‘only for you’ outfit. Are there more?”

But finally she caved, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth in case someone in the common room could hear them. She stopped just in time to shrug under him. “There might be. If you do well on our next... three tests.” Was that a bit catty? She grinned and let her eyes roam him as he moved up to her face. Her knees would have buckled if she weren’t laying on her back. Instead her legs moved gently, with ease and litheness, making room for his knee.

“I bought my costume yesterday. You already told me about yours, remember? We’ll match...” She raised her brows teasingly and reached up to kiss him. “But really, what kind of date doesn’t even formally ask you to the ball?” She pulled back with a pout and then groped blindly for her wand, which she’d left... somewhere. Frowning, she crawled a bit from under him. She found it at the very end of the bed and, on all fours, pointed it at the door. “Silencing Charm,” she murmured, before turning and crawling back to him.

Waker pushed George’s shoulders back forcibly, with rather more ferocity than she had that day on the beach. With her legs on either side of him, she loomed over the Gryffindor. He had all of her attention now, and she didn’t think to pull the bed curtains shut. Meeting his lips again, she let her hair fall around them, and her hands run down his chest. After a few minutes of this rather elevated game, her fingers danced toward the hem of her jersey and began to lift one side (thought not enough far to reveal the red bra underneath.)

“Your points? What are—detention!”

He couldn’t help but laugh at her reaction; even if he was joking about being the professor, she didn’t appear to handle the possibilities of a pseudo detention very well. “My points, yes. Maybe you earn them by attending detention.” Tapping her gently, he grinned towards her. He was a little jumpy himself, knowing that there were a few other roommates missing from the room, and none knew not to come back. Not that that would stop some of them, of course… just to come in and bug him because they knew he didn’t want them to.

Still, it was that uncertainty that was kind of exciting, wasn’t it? At least for George. He loved having an adrenaline rush, that heavy weight quivering in your stomach, waiting to see if you succeeded or not.

“If we get caught, it’ll be expulsion.”

“Second times the charm?” He gave her a curious glance before laughing and shaking his head. “No… I would take the fall. Clearly I drugged you and brought your innocent self to the boys dorms. Imperious curse or something.” Like the DADA failure could have done that to the Head Girl, even if she wasn’t expecting it. Then again… he could be very convincing if he needed to be.

“Sure you can. You’re very good at it… Your verbal sauveness is the reason I got my internship.”

“It was, wasn’t it.” He dusted his fingertips off on his chest and blew on them, nodding appreciatively. “I knew you fell in love with me then, when I nearly broke my back getting that trophy out just for you. Couldn’t help yourself.” A sly smirk made its way to his lips as he glanced up towards her, his hand moving back to her. It was cute, seeing her try to not laugh out, though he really wanted to see her laugh out, uncontrollably, wiggling under his hands. He nodded slightly. “For you, sure.”

“There might be. If you do well on our next… three tests.”

His eyebrows rose at that and a flash of intrigue came to his eyes. “Three tests huh?” Suddenly he planned to take better notes in lecture next time. Whether he actually would or not was yet to be seen, but at least he had the aspiration now.

The costumes were done, then. George recalled having told her, of course. It was his favorite mascot of all time! “I trust you to make us match. I wouldn’t have the first idea, unless it involved body… paint… hey!” Then he winked and kissed her, allowing her to pull him in.

“But really, what kind of date doesn’t even formally ask you to the ball?”

“Yours?” He shrugged and glanced down, letting his free hand trail down the front of the jersey. “Will you go to the ball with me? And every ball after that?” He smirked and quickly looked up to her face. Then she was crawling out from under him and he let out a scoff, but allowed her easy maneuvering. Her position made his mouth water a little, a tightening in his lower stomach that was all too familiar, and a weakness that made him want to stay where he was. Silence charm? He wasn’t that loud…

When she came back to him, he was at first very sure of himself, that smug smirk on his face. Then she pushed him down and came over him with a sudden sense of urgency and desire that he lost his confidence, however briefly, and was under her control. It was a very odd feeling to go from king of the world to whatever she wanted him to be. She had him easily wrapped around her wand, if she cared to. He could feel her pressed against him, the scarce amount of material between them all the more obvious as his hands lately grabbed on to her.

He tried to keep up with her, what with the kissing and petting, but by the time she got to the jersey, he was just starting to feel like he’d gotten his feet back under him, so to speak. Noisily pulling away from her lips, gasping in for air, he looked down to where her vacant hands had wandered off to. His own were gripping her waist. Then he saw it lifting, and he licked his lips, watching very carefully. She was teasing him… He chuckled and kissed her, allowing his fingers to trail carefully along the top of the underwear to her back.

George liked this position, liked her hair falling and tickling his face. He blew up at a few stray strands that were itching his nose, wrinkling it slightly before laughing quietly. All he wanted to tell her was how beautiful she was, but didn’t feel that explained it well enough. So instead, he let his hands continue to do the talking for him, following closely behind the one lifting the jersey up. 

She couldn’t help but laugh, even amidst a moment of panic. The idea of a detention that rewarded rule-breakers was... absolutely something George Carter would charmingly spin from the tip of his tongue, and get away with it.

She turned her cheek toward the blanket, letting her eyes drift shut as he went on to tease her about their little rendezvous in the library. Though not in so many words. “I was only helping you finish... studying,” she retorted. Yes. Studying. They did that quite a lot, didn’t they? But she tensed a bit when he so casually unveiled the master plan-- putting all of the blame on his own shoulders. “You know you’re legally a wizard! You are not going to Azkaban for trying to-- for my breaking in-- and our first-- my first... first time...” Those words weren’t easy to say. She felt her heart jump again. “You aren’t getting in trouble because I want it to be special and in a real bed,” she finished. Almost. “Your bed.”

“I knew you fell in love with me then, when I nearly broke my back getting that trophy out just for you. Couldn’t help yourself.”

The roller coaster of being tense, and flustered, and thrilled, and anticipating, was another thing that continuously drew her to him. At the mention of his back, she rubbed her hand down it. Or as far as her gangly arms could reach when he was still attacking her stomach with ticklish lips.

“Three tests,” she repeated, tapping those very same treacherous and wonderful lips. It was hard not to be forceful, impatient, and less-than-poised when she stared at them for too long. She’d pulled him, laughing at his mention of body paint. “We’ll match alright. Don’t worry.” Ironic, to be the one saying it. “But there’s no paint involved.”

“Yours?”

“I know. He’s the gallant type, isn’t he?” Sarcasm dripped from the statement, but Waker was pleased with the banter. It somehow made things eaiser, more natural, more right. She knew being with George was right-- they’d apparently unearthed that mystery back in the library. But the awkwardness and constant worry of what it might be like, to take that next, very important step did not seem so pressing now, laying in bed, kissing, and groping, and laughing.

“Will you go to the ball with me? And every ball after that?”

“Hmmm...” The throaty murmur left her just before she targeted the door with her charmwork. It wasn’t until she’d crawled back to him, found her way into the dominate position, that she gave a proper answer. “Yes. I will go to the ball with you, and I will go to every. single. future. ball.... or suspiciously-ball-like event... with you, George. Even I have to Spell-o-Tape your mouth shut and drag you there against your will.”

It seemed both ages and milliseconds before their fingers were becoming a tangled web of suggestiveness, dancing the hem of the jersey as it mysteriously revealed more and more skin. Waker’s cheeks were pink, but not from blushing. They’d both worked up quite the fervor in their snogging. She stopped for a moment, sitting up again, and breathing deeply, slowly. Grabbing his hands, she encouraged him to remove the jersey the rest of the way, helping where necessary. And when it was off, revealing the bra that matched her knickers, she bent forward again and placed a soft kiss to his neck, just under his jaw. “I’m sorry there’s no lions printed on top. I wanted to match.”

She pressed into him for support and sat up yet again to fumble with the clasp in the back. “Don’t laugh. My roommates and the school nurse are the only people who’ve seen me topless. And my mum when I was still the size of an elf.” She began to move the straps down, one at a time. And then, tilting her head a bit, as if staring at something far off, she added with a sort of matter-of-factness, “And Fauna Blake, almost. But that’s a long story.”

Waker closed her eyes, her heart racing, and dropped the garment onto George’s stomach before she could slap some sense into herself. She kept her arms cradled under her chest for a moment, somewhat self-consciously, and then slowly peaked through one eye to gauge his expression.

And Waker was great at helping George finish studying. He was all right with her doing that long after Hogwarts. Smirking, he rolled his eyes when she told him he was legally a wizard. “So are you…” Licking his lips, his eyes held a spark of mischievous glint as she stumbled over her words. She was so sweet, wasn’t she? She didn’t want him to get in trouble because she wanted a real bed. “I could have easily come to you.” Then he remembered the spells on the girls side of the dormitories, and he stopped and made a face. “Or… maybe not so easily…” He shook his head and focused once again. “But I could have.”

Imagining himself scaling the stairs could have been fun. Maybe he’d do that sometime soon… He’d need a few tools with him, though, when the stairs went out from under him. A bit of rock climbing to her room could be just the adventure he needed next! Besides, he wanted to see all the posters she kept around her bed like most teenage girls were said to, right? Pascal had his own little heartthrob above his own bed, so it only seemed right the other girls would too. “I’d get in trouble for you.”

A shiver ran through him as her hands moved over his back. George loved her hands… He smirked and gently sucked, prepared to leave a lasting mark.

“Three tests.”

He smirked against her finger, kissing it playfully before watching her face once again. Don’t worry? He laughed and shook his head. “I wasn’t… worrying…” He’d just gotten excited over the prospect of spreading paint in places that he was getting to touch a lot more. He did pout a little when she said there was no paint involved. “Well… just wait until the next match then.” A small smirk found its way to his face, though he tried to keep it back.

“I know. He’s the gallant type, isn’t he?”

“Handsome too, so I’ve heard.” Sarcasm and Waker Nolan were fast becoming lifelong friends. It was nice, though, having broken through some… shell. To be true to her and feel she was the same with him. George opened up a lot more to her than his other friends. Even amidst his playful nature, he could keep up his own walls. She’d been with him after he lost two close family members, now. Saw how he acted when he wasn’t easy going and Mister Joking Around all the time.

“Hmmm…”

If it wasn’t for her position that had his mind elsewhere, he might have rolled his eyes. And in fact, he did start with that, though they quickly widened from the view. Then she was back, and his mind had strayed from his questions, until her words brought them back.

“Yes. I will go to the ball with you, and I will go to ever. single. future. ball…. or suspiciously-ball-like event… with you, George. Even I have to Spell-o-Tape your mouth shut and drag you there against your will.”

His eyes widened as he looked up at her and he grinned like an excited little puppy. “Promise?” Then he gently poked her side, biting his lower lip. “Spell-o-Tape, huh? You worried about me saying something that might embarrass you?” And he leaned up slightly to nip at her chin, kissing her playfully before falling back on the bed.

It was completely different, being with Waker over the others he’d been with. She made him uncertain of himself, and made him unsure about what he had originally thought as the right course of action. And she caused this pit to open up in his stomach. It seemed to pull more as she assisted his hands, and his eyes widened, taking her in as they sprinted from her face back down to the jersey and then farther to the underwear, back up again to repeat. His breathing was shallow, and some of that confidence he’d had was clearly hidden as he helped her lift the jersey off.

“I’m sorry there’s no lions printed on top. I wanted to match.”

He was staring at her, memorizing what he could, his breath catching as she kissed his neck. His eyes closed briefly before he shook his head, laughing. “I’ll get a lion on top.” His hands grazed her back, moving along her soft skin, his eyes finally getting another view of the delicious bra. He scoffed when she told him not to laugh; clearly she wasn’t sitting down all the way or she’d know that was the last thing she was causing him to do.

“-My roommates and the school nurse are the only people who’ve seen my topless. And my mum when I was still the size of an elf.”

His frown from being told not to laugh disappeared as her hands started to fumble with the straps. She had more practice than he could. His legs spread out slightly, and his hands rested uncertainly on her thighs, gently lacing his fingers under the hem of the matching underwear. Why did she bring up others at a time like this. “Waker, you’re-”

“And Fauna Blake, almost. But that’s a long story.”

She caught him off guard, and he blinked, raising an eyebrow. Long story about girls almost topless? George licked his lips and shook his head just slightly. Pushing those thoughts aside, it didn’t take long to refocus. “You’re beautiful, lion or no lion on your bra.” His voice was soft, not quite as sure of himself now, but just as convincing—he thought. And then his voice went as the material fell to his stomach, and his mouth opened in shock. She was amazing… and she was his.

Finally, George sat up, pushing up to his elbows before repositioning them so she was still on his lap, but he was able to sit up. And his lips met hers, his hands tenderly cradling her back, one making its way over her shoulder and down her arm. Then his lips moved down to her neck, following a slow trail farther, forcing her body backwards just slightly as his hands claimed the prize, his disbelieving mouth coming quickly down as well. His breathing was coming faster now, and his other, unoccupied hand, dipped down, tugging at the underwear, fighting with the desire to have her now or take their time.

“You would have drawn too much attention to yourself, trying to get up those stairs,” she pointed out. “Even if you... flew up on your broom or some crazy thing, someone might have caught you.” Waker, on the other hand, had biology on her side to make a quick and silent flight up the boys’ staircase in Gryffindor. She couldn’t help it, even in this moment of... foreplay, or whatever it was... to start murmuring logic and try to talk George out of imaginary scenarios that might get him in trouble.

 The next match. And the match after that. It tugged at Waker’s heart strings. She’d planned everything so far in advance, but never this-- she’d never mapped a boyfriend into the five year plan, and now George consumed the centerfold of her daily schedule. And she couldn’t imagine not having him there everyday, not having a future with him. Which frightened her and made her happy all at once.

“Handsome too, so I’ve heard.”

“The best looking bloke in Hogwarts. It’s written on the wall of the girls’ lavatory at least a half-dozen times in un-charmable ink,” she invented, smiling against his lips. While she would never vandalized the bathroom walls (only light the bins on fire), she knew it wasn’t far out of the range of possibility. Lots of girls liked George, and she had seen his name on the backs of doors while she was buttoning up her skirt, or the corners of desks while waiting patiently for tests to end.

“Promise?”

“I’d do an Unbreakable Vow, but my hands are sort of busy,” she lamented coolly.

  “Spell-o-Tape, huh? You worried about me saying something that might embarrass you?”

“You? Never. I’m worried you’ll incriminate yourself,” she admitted with a smile, half-heartedly trying to dodge him, and cheerfully failing. When he fell back against the bed, she looked down at him for a moment, giving him a very soft smile. It was strange, how far they’d come.

With his hands moving farther and farther into personal territory, Waker’s temperature was surely going up. She was becoming keenly aware of how close they were, and how little separated them. Hair already tousled and skin slightly aglow, she pressed into him further as he mentioned getting a lion on top. Some things never changed. And for that, she was glad.

Her eyes fluttered open when he called her beautiful, and it felt as shocking and glorious as the first time he’d told her, right before their first kiss.

Her arms clung to his neck as he sat up to meet her and she let her eyes grow heavy again while kissed her neck and moved down. She breathed audibly, shakily, but in obvious gratification as he made it to new territory. Has hands were willing that last garment free, and so Waker thought it was only fair to do the same. She reached for his now-heated pajama bottoms and tried to slip them down, pulling George down onto her in the process, so that their positions were reversed again. Her hands roamed slowly, nervously, to places they’d never been, and she felt her cheeks flush. It was like an electric shock through her blood, but a good one. She stared up at him, her eyes somehow able to take his in entirely and without reticence. “I love you.”

“You would have drawn too much attention to yourself, trying to get up those stairs.”

Smirking at that, he shook his head. “I can be… quiet when I need to be.” That sounded false to his own ears. Then again, for the right things, George was known to be able to sneak around pretty well… just a matter of urgency. If it was something he shouldn’t be doing, he could be like a Slytherin. If he was purposefully trying to be quiet, though, like slipping into class late, then he inevitably made himself more noticeable. Like knocking over a bookcase of potion ingredients or something.

“Even if you… flew up on your broom or some crazy thing, someone might have caught you.”

“Wouldn’t that be half the fun? And hey, good idea! I’ll bring my broom next time.” Now it was going down as something he had to accomplish before he graduated Hogwarts. He had to see how Waker lived, up in her little tower… Maybe Sebastian would go with him? Then they could have a little ‘tea party’ or something with all the girls stuffed animals. Wasn’t that what teenage girls got up to? He hadn’t grown up with one in his own, unless they were going to count his brother (which he didn’t mind).

“The best looking bloke in Hogwarts. It’s written on the wall of the girls’ lavatory at least a half-dozen times in un-charmable ink.”

He felt his ego swell a little bit at that. As long as Waker thought so, then George was happy. If any guy could see Waker as she was now… writing on the lavatory walls would be the least of his issues. He wouldn’t mind being overly jealous; she was worth a few fist fights to keep the guys back. She might not agree… but she didn’t need to know. His hands instinctively pulled her closer.

“I’d do an Unbreakable Vow, but my hands are sort of busy.”

“Right, don’t want to stop them.” He nodded in agreement. She had excellent hands… and he liked them busy with things for them.

“You? Never. I’m worried you’ll incriminate yourself.”

He tried to give her an innocent smile. “Not me… Why would I do that? A willing partner to balls… no going back on it now.” And ball-like-events, right? She was snared in his trap! Or… or the other way around. Either way, he liked where they were. It was different than any other relationship he’d had, being that it got to the point of love, or what he thought was love. Beyond that, though, was this overwhelming desire to… be with her.

His body tensed, hearing the changes in her voice, in the way she was breathing, grasping her body as he tried to keep himself focused. The library had been a taster (literally), and he hadn’t had time to enjoy Waker in her entirety. Or allow her the full experience? Not that he had had much in the way of… this was really the first time in a bed, for him. So he was going by instinct and desire more than he was going by experience.

Feeling her hands in other places, he drew in a breath and held it, finally letting it out noisily as he pressed his lips against her chest, resting there a moment, allowing her to move them around. With the new positioning, he was able to get a good hold, and soon he was adding more red to the piles around them.

“I love you.”

And he paused, looking down at her, staring over her face. Holding her tight, his hand cradling her underneath while the other moved slowly back up her side, George ran his tongue over his lips slowly, considering it. Finally, he grinned and leaned down, kissing the tip of her nose. “I love you.” And then he kissed her cheek. “So.” And then he hovered over her lips. “Much.” And he dipped in for a longer kiss, settling comfortably between her legs, taking in a shaky breath as he pressed down against her.

She was slightly afraid, the way George so casually and boldly carried on about ‘no going back’ on their deal. It was really serious, what they had. Sometimes she even felt silly using words like ‘boyfriend’, because he felt like more than that. Which was probably why she was here no, in an oh-so-compromising position.

 If Waker’s body temperature and heartbeat were any indication of her growing excitement, George’s own hints were much easier to read. Or feel. But the closer he got, the more ready she became, and the less afraid she was. Or maybe she was so afraid to ruin the moment that she’d become fearless. It was like a loop she’d circled, and there was no more nervousness to feel.

Her hands continued their exploration, and her breath competed with George’s as her last garment came off. It was just their bodies now. And if anything could be more heated or special than this-- just this-- it was almost impossible to believe.

Waker forgot about those girls George might have been with before, and the quarrel over Devlin Matthews. She forgot about wondering whether she would be any good, or disappoint him, or make him laugh. Each kiss and syllable seemed to revive her. Her heart had stopped racing, and was practically fluttering in the air above them now. She couldn’t even feel it anymore. She felt George, his lips, his words, his hands...

As much as she planned this, she couldn’t have asked for a better moment. And it was all his doing. How many people were so lucky to be told they were loved, and to know the person meant it, during their first times? And how many of them even got to be in beds that belonged to one or the other of them?! She’d heard cheek-burning stories from girls younger than she, and she couldn’t put into words how much it meant that she would never have to tell one. (At least not about her first time-- though she wouldn’t put it past George to find more creative and dangerous environments for future encounters. Library incident notwithstanding.)

Her body’s instinct told her what to do; she dipped her hips up as he came down gently before she could let herself think or over think. Her face, which she meant to keep in the same loving gaze it had been in a moment before, scrunched slightly, and she turned her cheek a bit away from him to bite her bottom lip and draw in air.

The feeling was indescribable. She had nothing to compare it to. Not even her own... natural, perfectly healthy self-exploration... nor George’s helping hands. It was rapturous and painful at once. Almost too much for someone who compartmentalized so many elements of her life.

But she breathed, and breathed again, and turned her face back toward his. They were doing this. Together.

Pressing into his warm neck, she kissed lightly, and some of the pain seemed to dissolve as she focused on doing multiple things at once. Her arms moved to his back, encouraging him, while also seeking comfort. She relaxed thighs relaxed and a noise that was neither troubled breath nor a sign of pain escaped her throat. Pleasure. Pressing ever closer to the insatiably warm and firm body above, she found herself smiling against his skin. Her fingers pressed more reassuringly into the lean muscle of his back and shoulders, and Waker gingerly burrowed her head back into the mattress, exhaling in drawn-out whispers and blissful little cries. She closed her eyes for the moment, and pain danced back in with a new jolt of life, but it was a good pain, an earned pain, a very intimate and tender pain.

It was easier to be physical than emotional. It was always simpler to get what he wanted and dust his hands of anything serious. Now that he had it, though, now that he had something that could be both physical and emotional? He wasn’t sure what they were supposed to do. He’d conquered love, though. Wasn’t that the big thing that everyone seemed to want, but seemed so hard to obtain?

Sex could go a few different ways in a relationship. With his limited experience, he’d all ready learned quite a bit about that. With Laney, it was an indifference: it was physical, and you best not bring any sort of sissy, petty feelings into it other than enjoying it. Otherwise she’d make fun of him. With Ellie, it had been very emotional. Very thought out. Or maybe that was just George, being unsure of himself with her. With both ladies, he had a very odd relationship; Ellie would probably be content to never see him again, and with Laney—well, he was sure if she didn’t see him ever again, she wouldn’t be too heartbroken. That was just Laney.

With Waker, though, it felt different. It was emotional, yes, and it was physical, but it was something else as well. Love was realizing that you’d prefer spending your time with that person over any other, the bad and the good. Or he supposed it was. So far, that’s what he had learned. As soon as something had gone wrong in a previous relationship, it was done and over with before they could crack into his soft interior. Waker had somehow managed (for better or worse) to get in.

This was about them. And though he had slight anxiety over being the best for her first as he could, he tried to hide it as best he could. Because he felt like being ‘the guy’ in this moment was necessary. To be the strong one, the one who got things done. And done right. It was a lot of weight to put on his shoulders, but the longer he kissed her, pressed up against her, felt the contours of her body against his, the better he felt he was balancing the expectations. Whether they were just his expectations or not.

He wished he’d better prepared the room, now. Even if he had no idea this would happen, and certainly not in his dorm room, he still felt unprepared. She seemed to like his bed, though, and he thought the maroon sheets looked fantastic against her skin. He would make her first time memorable, in a good way—his had been interestingly different, and something he had bragged about, but it had been something that meant very little other than a good time.

George had eased gently down towards her, repositioning just slightly so he could watch her face. He had heard that the first time, for girls, was not the experience everyone went on about. When she moved with him, his hand gripped her shoulder gently, his arm curled under her, bringing her as close as he could. It was about taking his time and making sure it hurt as little as possible for her. His breathing came faster, deeper, moving slowly against her. He frowned just slightly when she looked away, that faint look of pain on her face worrying him.

And so instead of comforting her, George leaned his lips down and kissed her exposed neck, parted against her skin so he could breathe with the increased activity that was sure to tire anyone out. Then he pulled back, closing his eyes just slightly as he gripped her, pushing farther, bringing her closer, gasping softly as her lips grazed back, fighting the shiver that threatened to slide down his spine. His fingers flexed against her before turning his head down slightly towards her, his lips seeking her inviting skin once again.

His lips pressed to her neck, moving to her jaw line, rocking slowly against the bed. His free hand grasped hers, bringing it above her head and holding it there, tangling their fingers in her hair slightly before it made its way back down her arm. Now past that initial, indescribable moment, it was more practiced. Lightly holding her waist, George breathed out her name, following it quickly with a kiss to the neck, trailing down until his forehead rested against it, his lips to her collarbone—it was fantastic.

He couldn’t keep himself in one place, and before long he found his head back up, staring down at her, licking his lips as he tried to focus. It never felt right to ask for reassurance, but right then—with it being the first—he wanted to make sure everything was all right. “Are…” His eyes closed and he held her as close as he dare, inhaling a shaky breath with a half grin before he looked back down at her. “Is it… ok?”