P A R A M O U R || George Weasley

34|| VOLDEMORT'S RETURN

^^ found that pic online kudos to whoever drew it. This is as close as I'll get to Lyra and George cause I can't draw for shit.

The library is nearly empty except for the couple that hides deep in it between the rows of old magical books. George's fingers dig into Lyra's thighs, pulling her closer, and she feels herself slide forward on the desk until their bodies are flush against each other.

It had all been Lyra's idea to lure George into the library during breakfast. She's been avoiding him all week to study for their History of Magic exam because they ended up distracted each time they met to study. This morning though, she woke up feeling stressed and on edge, and she figured some time with George would be of great help to get rid of that heavy feeling in her chest like something bad was about to happen.

"Someone missed me," George taunts her, kissing down her neck, his breath tickling her skin.

Lyra rolls her eyes and smiles, guiding his lips back to hers, "I needed a good luck kiss before the exam."

While she won't admit she missed George, he has no problem admitting he missed her. He missed her snarky attitude, her odd sense of humor, and the taste of her lipgloss. The one he's tasting now as it clings to his lips.

"You came to the perfect place because I am feeling extremely lucky today," George slowly kisses her, savoring the moment. Lyra's arms are lazily draped around his shoulders. Her fingertips brush against the top of his back while her dangling legs hook behind his to trap him close to her.

George nips at Lyra's bottom lip, brushing it with his thumb when he lets go. "We can get caught."

It's unlikely anyone is around, but he has to make the possibility known. There's a lot more on the line for Lyra than for George. His hands refuse to part from her soft skin, though, as he continues to soothingly rub the outside of her thighs.

"So?" Lyra entertains the idea, knowing there's no way in hell she's letting it happen for real. "What was it you used to say? Deny, deny, deny?" She whispers, brushing her lips against the shell of his ear.

Lyra's thighs are exposed from her skirt riding up, and George uses the opportunity to leave feather-light touches on her skin. Goosebumps rise involuntarily, which makes him smile. Lyra pretends to be independent and acts like she doesn't need him nearly as much as he needs her, but in the end, it's all a lie as her body betrays her with each of his touches. She wants him. She needs him.

"You're a daredevil," George murmurs, trailing a finger from her jaw to her chest.

Her skin is warm, hiding the burning hot flames inside of her, and for a moment, he lets them consume him as well. Popping the top two buttons of her white school shirt and loosening her green and silver tie, he buries his head on her shoulder, kissing and nipping at the skin.

"Just for you," she grins, biting back a moan.

Skipping breakfast is the best decision she's made all week. This is why she avoided him in the first place. He turns her careless.

George kisses her lips as his hand sneaks further up her skirt and between her legs. Quickly, Lyra unhooks her legs from around him, spreading them for him. He darkly chuckles. He's known all along this is what she wanted.

He hears voices in the distance and ignores them. No one comes this far out into the library, especially not today when there's only the sixth year's last exam, except maybe Hermione. Yet when he hears his name spoken, he breaks the kiss while a flustered Lyra frowns at him.

"He should be around here. He said he needed to stop by before breakfast," he hears Fred say. For once, he's not intentionally interrupting them. He had no idea Lyra had dragged George into the library.