𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬- 𝐚 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

Harry- 3. One More?

Warnings: none

_

Advancing Christmas isn't homey for the first time.

The reason- oh, don't even get her started.

Sixth year turned out to be heinous. Snape, being their DADA teacher, had threatened to give them detention if they failed in performing the non-verbal spells.

Potter doesn't have to stress about it, of course.

But on Merlin's other hand, she, who had got way better O.W.Ls than him, couldn't help but dunk her head into 'How to Ace Non-Verbality' that Hermione picked up for her.

Oh, just hex her already.

Why?

She couldn't concentrate.

You will ask the reason again.

It is because a certain raven-haired boy slumped in front of her, quietly fumbling and drumming his wand, quite restlessly though.

It wasn't obvious from his actions, but she knew- he was trying to catch her attention.

Pity, she isn't in a mood today.

"Harry, can you just stop that?" She snapped at him while shooting daggers from her eyes. "Why don't you just study?"

"For Snape?" He faked a sympathetic laugh. "He legit made me scrub the pans of the hospital wing. Without magic!"

"Doesn't help me concentrate."

He swore he could have snatched her books and alighted them on his Firebolt, only if he didn't mind the consequences. He knew, that would thing he would have done.

So instead, he did halt his ear-drilling drumming, and got to his feet. "Looks like you've got something to replace me," he deliberately shot at her and tip-toed into his dorms.

And for, maybe a second, she didn't mind the deafening silence, but, Merlin, the next second, she was already craving his presence. It was somehow tranquil for her, her anxiousness did vanish at his goofy smile.

She groaned in annoyance, and forced her attention back to her book.

"Funnunculus- boils, Homenum Revelio- Harry!"

Now, don't get her wrong this time.

This boy has got ways to make his presence felt. And now that he was nuzzling his face in the crook of her neck, she found it hard not to lose her concentration.

"Close that," he mumbled, clearly referring to the stiff-backed book she had been inhaling.

Well, she had to sigh before giving in.

"Harry, I swear, I'm failing this time! You should let me study."

He ignored her pleadings as he nicked the book out of her reach, and whirled the chair. Without a further word, he settled himself on the rugged floor, resting his chin on her knees as a tingling feeling danced on her skin.

Not even once in the past two years, she had accommodated herself to his touch. It was...unsatiable.

"Look at me."

She couldn't help but stare into those lucious green orbs that were twinkling alongside the cozy fire in the common room, and gave him a twisted sort of smile.

Their journey hardly needed words...smiles and eyes conveyed every unspoken entity.

And she was grateful- to have him.

"Okay, just one more page?" She etched out the most innocent (and forced) smile she could afford. Only if that could melt his determination today.

"No, no! No luck for today," he quickly sat over the book, making his seated figure shot up a little.

Hah, smart.

"Look, if I fail, I know my parents are disowning me."

"Good. I'll keep you."

She couldn't help but huff out an irritated laugh. "Convenient."

"You know, you aren't failing this. You are better than most of us in studies (this earned him an eye roll)."

"I can't concentrate when you look at me like that."

"Well, you should be concentrating on me instead, so..."

And now, she had a greater urge to connect their lips, but, uh- she would fail tomorrow.

"Right now, I can't decide if I want to shove you off the tower, or kiss you."

He looked up from the meadows of her knees again, and found himself smiling like a fool.

A fool in love.

"Can I pick?"

And without another word, he pulled her head a little way to low as he rubbed lovingly on the lower petal of her lips. Just another hesitant glance and then, they started devouring each other, with all the love, all the resentment.

Not minding what will happen if Ron and Hermione turn up into the common room after their prefect duties...not thinking of the possibilities of failing or dying in the year ahead...it was just them in their safe place.

Hesitantly, she slipped her hand into his hair again, tugging on gently as his subtle fangs created peals of painful satisfaction on her lips.

The way his arm slithered around her waist and cemented her on her place, forced out a sound from her mouth into his, which she never knew she capable of making.

Oh, unfortunately, they did pull away at the end, eyeing each other's now swollen lips, and Harry's more than ever disheveled hair as hair-splitting pants rang the silent room.

But her eyes fell on the thick spined book he was perching on, and something clicked in her eyes.

"Okay, Harry, I still need to study- no! Just one more?"