Edmund was nervous. Standing outside of the Great Hall, it was exactly seven o'clock, and although he'd arrived ten minutes early, he'd been checking his watch every few seconds. What if she didn't turn up? Edmund had been sure she would; after all, they'd almost kissed on the pitch, she clung onto him flirtatiously during their impromptu broomstick ride, and he couldn't help but think that his attraction to her was returned. But what if she'd just been leading the charming Ravenclaw on? What if she never had any intention of going on a date with Edmund?

He was just being plain silly, and Edmund knew this, but pre-date nerves affected most people - even the most arrogant and charming of Ravenclaws. He knew to play it cool, and his nonchalant leaning against the archway of the Great Hall only emphasised this, but on the inside, he was a wreck. He clenched his fists momentarily, letting out a long breath. He could only hope it went well.

Dressed in fitted beige slacks, brown loafers and a navy mac trench coat with jumper and shirt underneath, he looked like his usual preppy self, wearing his wayfarer spectacles that had to be frequently pushed up his nose. On most people, the large glasses would've looked a little nerdy, but they'd been a signature of Edmund's style for a long time. He did need glasses for reading after all, and his sister had insisted on a stylish yet quirky style. Looking around once more, he bit his bottom lip. Please turn up, please turn up, please turn up...

outfit

Lou finished applying the swipe of mascara, leaned back from the basin’s porcelain edge, and studied herself in the mirror. She shoved the cosmetic wand into her bag, and gave her hair a much-needed brush of fingers. The tousled locks had taken more time than she’d have liked to admit, and fluffing them up before her library date only made her feel smaller and less confidant than she appeared.

Why was she so bloody worried? Hadn’t she been a complete tease out on the pitch? Hadn’t she oh-so-casually stalked Edmund out there, invited herself onto his broom, and walked the dangerous tightrope between banter and full-on snogging?

But he’d been the one to invite her to study. And it was bound to be a bit more studying than either of them had bargained for. Studying of each other that was. And Emmylou? Emmylou was nervous.

“Oh shut up,” she commanded her reflection. Wrinkling her nose at herself, she attempted to bully the nervous thoughts out of her head. She forced a smile, gave her hair one last flounce, and floated off, exiting the lavatory and swinging around the corridor’s corner toward the Entrance Hall.

There he was, just on the Great Hall’s threshold. She looked him up and down, taking in the silhouette before zooming in on the face. As she approached, his features refined themselves, chiseled out his dangerous good looks, and became, for all intents and purposes, magical.

Only a few meters away, Lou popped a piece of minty gum into her mouth, chewing gingerly, almost invisibly, as she offered up a playful, half-coy, half-confident smile. “Ready to... party with the books?” She asked, finally stopping right in front of him. He was impeccably dressed, and made Lou, in her own quirky garb, feel slightly under-dressed. But she’d decided at the last moment that pulling on a painfully-tight pink skirt and conservative blouse wouldn’t make the night as fun... or maneuverable.

Edmund had checked his watch every thirty seconds, and the nervousness hadn't subsided. As he saw Emmylou walking up to the entrance archway however, his eyebrows rose in relief, a genuine smile appearing on his full lips. She'd turned up. Standing up straight, he delved both hands into his pockets as she approached, somewhat taken aback by her appearance. Why had he never really noticed her before? She was easily one of the hottest girls in Gryffindor, and he kicked himself for being so besotted with haughty, stuck-up Slytherin girls. Nevertheless, now was his chance to impress her, and meeting her was better late than never.

“Ready to... party with the books?” she teasingly asked, and Edmund gave a chuckle. He still couldn't believe how boyishly awkward and naive he'd been on the Quidditch pitch earlier that day; he just had to keep his cool, that was all.
"Let's skip the studying?" he replied, raising one eyebrow and giving her a signature Klint smirk. He couldn't help but flirt with her. "I thought we could go for a walk instead?" Beginning to slowly walk alongside Emmylou, he took in a deep breath, her heady perfume filling his nostrils with pure attraction and teenage lust. Edmund had been with plenty of girls, but for some reason, he couldn't get enough of Emmylou, and all he wanted to do was charm, impress and hang-out with her.

"How are things on the Gryffindor front then? Everybody still loud and cocky as ever?" he jokingly asked, facing her for a moment as they walked alongside each other. The Ravenclaw-Gryffindor banter was always abundantly rife, especially with the big game coming up.

Standing there with his hands in his pockets, Edmund looked every bit the cool, collected, nonchalant Ravenclaw she’d heard whispers about. She smirked to herself, realizing she’d probably seen a rare side of him earlier on the pitch. The pink in his cheeks had not simply been from the wind and exertion of a broom, that much she was certain. She’d had plenty of time to reflect between now and then, after all.

Skip the studying?

Well, he was impressive!

Lou feigned shock, splaying a palm over her heart and opening her mouth in mingled protest and outrage. “Heavens, Mr. Klint!” She retorted, sounding very much like an over-dramatic movie star from decades past. “You’ve lured me here under false pretenses...”

But her oh-so-ladylike reaction dissolved, softening into the smirk of moments prior. “I won’t tell if you won’t tell,” she said in a quieter, more mischievous voice. Her eyes twinkled delightedly, and she looped her arm through his without being invited.

Walking along beside him, she readjusted her bag of books to one shoulder, already forgetting its contents. “Oh, you know,” she answered casually, albeit vaguely. They approached the double doors, and Emmy let go of his arm, speeding up a bit and turning on her heel to walk backward. She faced him, grinning pleasantly. “Still better than everyone else in the school.”

A one-shoulder shrug and a face to match, she turned back around and kept walking, some two steps or so ahead of Edmund. She smiled to herself, knowing it had been a perfectly brilliant idea to accept his offer. Oh, and to stalk watch him earlier, when she’d known he’d be alone.

“What about Ravenclaw? Still racking up all those detentions and suspensions?”

"I think we both knew there wouldn't be much studying," he chuckled in reply to her melodramatic faux-shock. As he felt her arm link with his, the hand in his pocket immediately tensed up, yet he loosened it immediately, not wanting to seem nervous. She was so charismatic and put Edmund at ease whenever she was around, yet he couldn't help but act every inch of the lovestruck schoolboy. "Then consider it a secret between us," he almost whispered jokingly, lowering his head close to her ear as if exchanging some sort of highly confidential evidence.

He smirked at her confidence in the house of the golden lion - she was Gryffindor through and through. As she took a few steps forward, he couldn't help but admire her slender yet feminine figure, pressing his lips inwards as he quietly absorbed her magnetic figure. "Just because you're forever plugging Gryffindor doesn't mean that you're right," he laughed, the proud Ravenclaw flooding back into his wickedly pompous brain.

"I hang around with Waker and Leon," he laughed and joked, tilting his head a little. "Any more than two detentions a year results in two very angry and disappointed best friends." Waker was a scholastic champion through and through, forever encouraging Edmund in the academic department, whilst Leon always quietly advised his friend to be a bit more dedicated. Just because he was the least dedicated didn't mean they thought any less of him - they just wanted the best for the young Mr Klint.

Edmund decided to make a bold move, and took a quick step forward, his arm moving upwards and wrapping itself around her delicate, sloping shoulders. His arm around her, he immediately slowed the pace of their walk and gave her a smirk.
"All these detentions - anybody would think you were a bad influence on me, Carter." He couldn't help but let that arrogantly charming and flirtatious persona come back. He was Edmund Klint, after all.

“What? Don’t you pin this on me, sir!” She continued her delicate-flower tirade, mimicking every melodramatic actress and classmate she could recall to memory. The Gryffindor lifted her chin, as if scorning some child-creature. Then, reaching toward him, she pinched the tiniest bit of his shirt, appearing to dewrinkle it or some such unnecessary thing. “Anything happens to me and there’s a Keeper’s fist with your name on it.”


Winking in a decidedly unladylike manner, she loitered for a moment and pulled away, letting him catch up as she headed for the door. As if George would waste time beating up boys on her behalf. Lou could do that on her own.

“I am good at keeping secrets, though.” She settled down, falling into natural step once she took his arm and began to traverse the wintry path before them. “We don’t really need to tell my boyfriends, cousins, or brothers.” What brothers? Oops.

“I think you just defeated your own logic. Gryffindor isn’t superior, but your friends are boring as wooden blocks? Ummmm...” She quirked a brow, tilting her head to the side. Smirking at him, she waited for another retort. “Anyway, who says you have to ask their permission? I’m kind of disappointed you don’t find yourself in peril more often. Maybe I overestimated you, Clarissa’s Brother.”

Lou tried not to be too terribly pleased with herself when he put his arm around her. She wondered briefly how many girls had been so lucky. Innocently (or not particularly), she curled closer into him as they strolled away from the school. If she squinted and pretended, they weren't even having their first date on the Hogwarts grounds. Wouldn't that be brilliant?

They walked for a few moments, Emmy quite content, before she decided things needed to be a little... spicier.

A bad influence? Emmylou? Never.

She scoffed and let go of his arm. Reverting to her backward stroll, she spread her arms wide, her coal-detailed cape cardigan fluttering in the chilly November air. “If you can’t take the heat, get out of the castle.”

Edmund chuckled and smirked as she toyed with the slightest corner of his shirt, looking down at her slightly. He couldn't help but slowly fall for her flirtatiously charismatic ways. As she mentioned her cousin, the Gryffindor Keeper, he rolled his eyes, the grin still present on his handsome face.
"George?" he questioned, already knowing the answer. "Your cousin doesn't need an excuse to punch me in the face. We're hardly on the best of terms." Edmund Klint and George Carter were hardly sworn enemies, but there was always a slight fraction of friction. The two never spoke unless on the pitch, and even then, the atmosphere was cool. Edmund was far too cocky for his own good, and a lot of other males in his year disliked this trait in the Klint boy. George, however, had extra reason to dislike Edmund - Waker Nolan. After her and Klint's summer fling, most other boys that had become involved with the girl had grown to dislike Edmund. Such was life.

"Boyfriends?" Edmund asked, eyebrows raising innocently as his train of thought was interrupted by her comical interjection. For a second, he was a little taken aback, but then his face relaxed immediately - she was kidding. His arm tightening around her shoulders as if protecting her from the cold bitter chill, he gave a sigh. "Your boyfriends are so good that you need to secretly meet-up with another guy, then?" Edmund chuckled, giving her a glance of amusing satisfaction.

As she began to refer to his Ravenclaw comrades as 'wooden blocks' his lips parted wide in a jokingly offended manner.
"I never said they were boring!" he protested, thinking of how dedicated and studious Leon and Waker were. Sure, they could be a little highly-strung sometimes but opposites did indeed attract, and Edmund had never had two better best friends than those two. "And it takes some going to be more perilous than my sister." His last statement couldn't be any closer to the truth; Clarissa was forever getting herself into troublesome situations. She thrived on panic and adrenaline when she wasn't recuperating in the Klint drawing room.

Emmylou trotted off backwards, her arms outstretched and Edmund laughed at how bombastic she actually was. The Gryffindor beauty didn't do things by halves; everything was intense and larger than life. It was a refreshing change. Edmund's own boldness, brashness and bravery had become magnified whenever she was around, and his schoolboy butterflies were developing into plain manly flirtation.
"Looks like I'll have to make my own heat then..." he murmured, immediately placing a hand on the small of her back, pulling her close. The other hand rested on her cheek, her long hair falling over his fingers. His lips inches away from hers, he closed his eyes, hoping she'd return the bold gesture.

Lou laughed, somehow wickedly delighting in the fact that he didn’t like George. She loved her cousin, he was one of her best friends-- and she’d be damned if she let anyone get away with insulting him-- but it somehow made this new little adventure with Edmund Klint all the more amusing. Dangerous. Attractive. Besides, she would force them to get on at some point... if things became that serious.

Biting back such daydreams (when was the last time she’d ever thought past a first date? Edmund was different, and it was a little intimidating), she adopted an innocent but decidedly nonchalant shrug. “Just because you dabbled his lady friend first doesn’t mean you can’t be mates. Unless you’re a Seer. Then that’s just cruel.”

“Anyway, you and I get on just peachy, and we’re practically sworn rivals on the pitch...” But they also had the added benefit of flirting. “Do you think it’s a bit incestuous that my cousin’s kissing your ex and you’re k--” She stopped, on the verge of saying kissing his cousin, or, more to the point, kissing me.

"Your boyfriends are so good that you need to secretly meet-up with another guy, then?"

Lou resumed her cool, switching gears to the topic of non-existent boyfriends. Only marginally safer than corporeal cousins. “Ooooh,” she sang, waving a pointer at finger at him. “Don’t be awful. I have perfect taste! I just... thought we were going to study.”

And then it was his turn to defend someone. Like his friends. Ah, well, one couldn’t win every category. If he wanted to stay on close terms with the Head Boy and Head Girl, it was his prerogative. It just seemed everyone in her life suddenly found them far more interesting than they ought to have been by any sane standard. It wasn’t as if they knew all of Edmund’s tricks-- strolls through the snow on the way to the library.

“You know how you can top her?” She asked suddenly, tilting her head. “Play an epic graduation trick.” Akin to ‘senior pranks’ in Muggle pop culture. “Like... we could make all the suits of armor learn a choreographed dance to celebrate the first day of Spring... or...” Her mind began to buzz with not-so-wicked jokes they could play, ones which would nevertheless press the buttons of many a Hogwarts staff.

She took a few more steps back, but was quickly caught in the trap of Edmund’s arms. Suave and warm and smelling like a properly seductive boy ought to, he was very hard to resist. And so she didn’t. She closed her eyes, too, mirroring him and lacing her arms around his neck. “This very not studious of you, Mr. Klint,” she murmured, and stood straighter in her (thankfully elevated) vaguely snow-friendly footwear meet his lips. But she only managed to brush them before her distracted backwards dawdling caught the best of her. Even Quidditch players had moments of bad balance. And this was one to make Fauna proud.

Shoe catching on a fallen branch, Lou went tumbling, pulling the heavenly-lipped Edmund Klint along with her.

“Well, this is romantic...” Her eyes had flown open mid-fall, and from underneath the soft, thankfully warm figure of the Ravenclaw, she couldn’t help but laugh. Disregarding the chilly snow cradle beneath her, she resumed the task at hand, capturing Edmund’s mouth with her own. She watched him this time, however taboo it was, before allowing her eyes to flutter shut. Adjusting herself beneath him, she parted her lips a little more and tilted her head a fraction the side to encourage him in their non-academic endeavor.

"Kissing me?" Edmund immediately interjected, a coy smile appearing on his face. "A little presumptuous, aren't we Carter?" Although it was obvious that Edmund was into the Gryffindor (well, a little more than into), he still liked to teasingly call her bluff. The butterflies still remained, but Edmund was less anxious around her; it was as if they'd been friends for their full Hogwarts career. He still didn't like George, but as long as he wasn't brought up in conversation, there was no reason for the two to disagree. Edmund was past being jealous of George for finally getting Waker, but had let the on-pitch rivalry of Quidditch spread further. George Carter was a person that Edmund had never seen eye-to-eye with, and he couldn't help but think that things wouldn't change just because of Emmylou. If anything, it'd distance the two boys further.

Carter began to suggest ways he could top Clarissa's antics, and Edmund merely giggled, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Beat Clarissa on the delinquent front?" he asked, raising his eyebrows in disbelief. "That'd take some effort, and not the sort that a Ravenclaw is equipped with." It was true; his sister had been one of the worst students Hogwarts had ever seen. Fighting, gossiping, underage drinking, partying - she'd done it all. Edmund had his moments but they were nowhere near Clarissa's lengthy back catalogue of errors.

His kiss had gone well, apparently. Her fragrant scent filled his nostrils with the sweet smell of adolescent lust, and as a hand gently made it's way onto her cheek, his moment of pure bliss tumbled. Quite literally. Edmund immediately chuckled, his heavy body resting upon her delicate frame.
"Don't ever call me romantic, Carter..." he chuckled, his voice almost a whisper in her ear. Pressing his lips against hers, his moment of heaven was rejuvenated. Propping himself up on both elbows, he felt his own mouth curve into a smirk. "I bet you do this to all the boys," he laughed, still resting upon her after he finally broke their kiss. "I can see it now. 'Gryffindor beauty snags another boy in mock tumble.'" He just couldn't help himself.

Narrowing her eyes like an unamused cat, Lou simply pointed at him. There was nothing left to say; she’d been caught in a (not so) brief moment of teenage humiliation. Being smooth meant standing on a slippery slope. Everyone was destined fall, eventually. And now was her moment.

Quite literally.

She didn’t have the time, between blushing and capturing Edmund’s lips, to argue the point. Presumptuous? Most definitely. Perhaps. But she’d rather be that than not be snogged.

“Are you admitting your shortcomings?” Was all she could say before they took the tumble. A murmur of banter, wondering aloud whether he could impress her as much as his sister had. (And he could-- albeit in quite different ways.) Edmund was destined to one-up Clarissa, even if he never managed an epic prank. After all, Emmylou had never snogged the older girl in a bed of snow. Or at all.

Despite the cold, she felt her cheek burn again. This time there was no blooming blush to accompany it. It was Edmund’s touch that did the trick, his silky, suave finger tips. Shockingly soft and detail-oriented for a Beater. She’d have to ask after his brand of gloves... when they were in a less suggestive predicament.

"Don't ever call me romantic, Carter..."

The Gryffindor was taken aback for a moment, but she tried not to let it show in her face. Still, she blinked, her face hardened, and then she swallowed hard, collecting herself.

“Fine, you’re terribly dull and not remotely steamy,” she proclaimed, reaching up to return the favor of polite tactility. Her fingertips hovered over his face, tickling the microcosm of air between them. Finally, she tapped his nose, settling the point without words.

Still, she continued to kiss him, content to have the daylights snogged right out of her.

"I bet you do this to all the boys. I can see it now. 'Gryffindor beauty snags another boy in mock tumble.'"

“Hey!” She bemoaned, sitting up with a little difficulty beneath the warm coat that was Edmund. She planted her elbows in the snow, and gave him her best angry face-- pout, furrowed brows, and all. “Are you calling me a floozy? I have to warn you, only Fauna Blake’s allowed to do that and walk away with both legs intact.”

She wiggled out from beneath him, using his shoulders as a lever of sorts. Finally, on her knees, she tightened her grip and stared him straight in the face. “I never lose my balance. It must have been your mouth that did it. And I only kiss boys I like. And you--” She gave him a little, playful push, trying to switch positions in the snow, like a child lion pinning another in the desert. “Started this.”

“Fine, you’re terribly dull and not remotely steamy,” Lou said stoically, tapping the end of his nose lightly. He couldn't help but love how she challenged him; too many girls had simply replied 'Yes, Edmund' or 'Whatever you say, Edmund' or 'You're absolute right, Edmund.' It was just too easy with most girls - they were too air-headed to even have an opinion. But Emmylou Carter? She kept Edmund on his toes, and he loved it.
"And you're awfully condescending, slightly typical and a really, really bad kisser," he quietly replied, his wicked mouth of temptation twisting into a smirk before it pressed against Lou's once more, opening his lips to kiss the Gryffindor goddess once more.

As he jokingly insulted her, he couldn't help but bite his bottom lip in satisfaction as she kicked off a little, kneeling up a little as she wriggled from beneath him.
"Taken that to heart, Carter?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and smiling once more. As she attempted to take his position in the snow, he rested two hands on her hips to hold her steady, refusing to let Lou take control. His face inches from her, Edmund widened his eyes a little, his schoolboy nerves appearing once more for a split second as he realised how close the two actually were. He hadn't been this foolishly playful with a girl since - well, Waker - and he couldn't believe that he'd let his usually arrogant charm slip so greatly in front of Lou.

"It's a shame you're not allowed in my common room, could do with taking this indoors," he laughed, still quite aware that the two were openly smooching on the school grounds. Falling back and propping himself up with both hands, he gave her another coy grin, letting his guard down in front of her finally. "I'm sure Quinn and Grace wouldn't mind me being an extra dormmate this evening, would they?" Edmund flirtatiously joked, knowing that his blossoming friendship (if it was even that) with Emmylou was based upon suggestive comments and mild insults.

“A bad kisser? That’s not what your sister said.” Of course, she’d never kissed Clarissa. But if they were going to have a miniature war, Lou wanted to be a proper contender for the crown. “You brought the condescension on yourself, really. You think you’re made of gold, don’t you, King Midas?” And as for the typical bit... Well, Emmylou Carter wasn’t about to touch that. She would simply have to show him otherwise.

And so she did, kissing, pulling back, nipping, and offering a teasing tongue more befitting a snake. Her mouth was as playful running on silent as it was when she voiced insults.

"Taken that to heart, Carter?"

Truth be told, it was easier to take things to the heart with a boy like Edmund, who was, for all intents and purposes-- and despite however atypical Lou wished to show him she was-- a natural born heartbreaker.

“Indoors?” She whispered, now hovering over him, an eyebrow inclined. “And miss melting the snow? You could flood the whole school, Edmund Klint. I’m not going to miss that,” she offered, somewhat apologetically. “And you--” She pointed accusingly, and then tapped his nose to drive home the point. “Aren’t allowed in any of the girls’ dormitories. Not even Ravenclaw’s.” Her hands moved to his neck, fingers gently caressing the sides of it before sliding down. Finally, her palms rested flat on his chest. She gave him a domineering push. and planted her knees in the snow on either side of his slim, fit body. “So Quinn and Grace will just have to use their imaginations.”

Moving in for another kiss, she stopped dead, like a victim of a corridor hex, some two centimeters from his face. “But I could be your extra roommate. I always wondered what sort of skivvies the Head Boy wears. Boxers? Briefs? Little LM’s emblazoned or embroidered next to the days of the week...”

"Ha, ha, very funny," he sarcastically replied, scowling a little but that smirk still remaining on his face. The thought of Lou kissing Clarissa made him a little queasy - it was an unwritten rule that siblings never shared, especially when it was with both genders. She mocked him continuously, and Edmund could only lay on the snow and snigger at her comments - Lou was probably one of the few people that Edmund could endlessly joke with. She teased him, and to be honest, he rather enjoyed it. Lou wasn't your average girl, after all.

"I am made of gold," he muttered, giving her another coy grin and once more feeling her lips against his, his hands instinctively falling to her waist as if inviting her in. His full lips fell to her neck, exploring her soft skin, any by pulling away at the last moment, Edmund was still playing the romantic tactician. Keep making her want more.

He listened to her words intently, his eyes bright and eager to take in whatever she had to say. Feeling her push his body back, Edmund rather willingly let Lou pin him down in the snow, resting his hands on her thighs. Looking up at her, he could only sigh dreamily - was this the closest to heaven an adolescent boy could ever get?
"Shame. Always wanted to be in a room with three Gryffindor girls," he joked, sniggering boyishly. He still tried to wind her up, no matter what. Truth betold, he had no interest in Grace Eddy or Quinn McAvoy. The former was a little too studious and uptight for her own good, and McAvoy? Jesus Christ, he'd need a lion tamer to even hold a conversation with her.

"You were wondering about Leon's pants?" he asked, raising his eyebrows in mock insult. "And there's me thinking that all this time you were plotting to get in mine. You sneak, Lou Carter, you absolute sneak." He kissed her swiftly on the lips, sitting upright to try and get the upper ground once more. It was a battle of the titans, and Edmund was determined to be the victor.

“I know, I’m hilarious.” She stared at him, her heart secretly thumping in delight below layers of coats and jumpers. Even his laugh was worthy of banter, cool as a cat and completely infectious. But she said nothing, and simply enjoyed its prepossession.

“Then why haven’t I turned to gold?” Merlin knew her hands had been up and down him and back again in the past five minutes. “You’re a fake, Edmund Kl--” Her breath caught as his lips trailed over the sensitive parts of her neck, and then abruptly disappeared, only to occupy it again. It wasn’t fair! It was cheating! Lou let out a half moan, half groan sort of girly noise that betrayed her disappointment in his teasing-- and the shame of letting it be known. He’d found her weak spot, and he’d used it to his advantage.

But when it was her turn to be on top of the world, so to speak, she decided to seek revenge.

“Love, I am three Gryffindor girls.” She had confidence for three, anyway. Much like her little-- or not so little-- friend here, pinned beneath her with his back to the cold ground. If Edmund was gold, Emmylou was three women in one, and then some.

She hovered close, waiting for the answer, then met his kiss, nipped at his mouth, pulled away foxily as he’d done a moment prior. “Well, he is the Head Boy,” she reminded him as he struggles to sit up beneath her. She found herself falling properly into his lap, legs tangled, arms around his neck. They were face to face now. Her lips parted against his, teasing the treasure that was her impeccable, white smile. Tonsil quidditch had never been quite so intense as it was now. “Why have what's in your pants..." A kiss. "When I could have what's in his?" Another kiss. “And you know what they say...” A breath. Her lungs were on fire, despite the cold. "About big badges.” More snogging. One of her hands had trailed down, untangled itself from the other, departed from his neck, and trailed down. A single finger now tugged playfully at one of his belt loops.

Edmund couldn't help but let out a soft murmur of a laugh through parted lips, realising how much she enjoyed his sweet kiss on her far sweeter, far more addictive skin.
"Only those truly worthy turn to gold..." he teased once more, kissing her neck once more before moving to her jawline and finishing on her lips. Everything had happened so fast; it only seemed like yesterday when he'd caught her eye in detention. Why was she so tempting? It was driving Edmund crazy. Needless to say this wasn't their first date, but it was however their first official date. And things were going exceptionally well.

"Love, I am three Gryffindor girls," she replied, attempting to counter-attack his sweet and poisonous words. Edmund, in true Klint style, only deflected these comments.
"Keep telling yourself that, Carter," he laughed, amusingly mocking her. As Lou rested on Edmund, he looked up, holding onto her hips and admiring everything about her. It was her eyes that got him the most, and as he gazed into them for a split second, he had to look away. This girl was too good to be true.

As her hand went to his belt loops, tugging lustily, Edmund let out a heavy breath instinctively, taken aback with his defences down with no retaliation. He fell back in the snow, clutching her back and kissing Lou once more, his brain drowning in adolescent affection and attraction.
"You're," he whispered in her ear, ready to run back with her to his dorm that very moment. "You're going to get me in trouble, Carter."