By the tine five o’clock American East Coast time came around, you stood and shook off your slightly wet blanket, calling in Hermione, who was swimming. However, you looked at your watch.
“You know, it’s still noon back home,” you said.
Ron stared at you, in the act of drying his hair. “Are you serious?”
You nodded. “I checked, American East coast is five hours behind England.”
Hermione nodded, “It’s true... We can either hang round here for a bit, or head back to England.”
A little kid passing by gave you all an odd look, as did his mother. She started muttering about foreigners, and you resisted the urge to slap her. Shaking your head, you pulled on your sandals and skirt, though Harry tried to grab it from you, Hermione and Ron smiling and walking away.
You grabbed your skirt from him and pulled it on kind of roughly, which earned a loud, sort of material separating kind of sound. Staring at Harry, whose mouth dropped in amused O of mingled shock, amusement, and some kind of naughty grin. You looked down and saw a fine slit on the side, going almost all the way up to the top, and really the only thing that stopped it was the thick belt band.
“You little prig!” you hissed, glaring at him as you buttoned the jean skirt. “That was my favorite skirt!”
Harry was doubled over, laughing, and managed to say, “And now it’s my favorite!”
Now it was your turn to stare in shock as a cool breeze fluttered against your mostly bared left leg. Shaking your head, you pushed him back hard, so he wheeled and fell over backwards. Which would have worked beautifully, watching him fall on his ass, but Harry decided to retaliate and grabbed you as he went down. The white sand suddenly came up to meet you as you slammed half on the ground and half on Harry, letting out a sound of shock that made Hermione pause and turn, near the tree line.
“You okay?” she called, Ron laughing.
“She’s fine!” Harry called, wrapping surprisingly strong arms around you. “Or, at least, she will be...!”
You let out a noise of apoplectic animosity, glaring at him. Ron waved and dragged Hermione off, vaguely calling a “see you later, I guess, back home!” You turned back to face Harry, who had you firmly pinned atop him, and it was starting to get odd looks from the Muggles around as they packed up and left. As an elderly, sort of rich looking couple walked by in what seemed to be tennis gear, you heard the woman mutter,
“Young people these days have no common courtesy... As if we want to see that sort of lurid thing!”
You glared at her, trying to force Harry’s arms off so that you could get up and give her a good shout, at least, but he sensed that and held tighter.
“Now, play nice with the old fat Muggle American woman who feels the need to burn herself to a crisp to hide the age!”
Despite yourself, you laughed and relaxed, laying your head on his tee-shirted chest, looking out over the white sand and Gulf of Mexico. You both comically lay there for a while, the sun dipping below the horizon and burning your eyes slightly. It was odd to watch the sunset and feel like it was noon. You figured that the first couple of weeks you were in America, assuming you went there, would be like that, before your internal clock adjusted, and the Jet Lag wore off in the mornings.
“Amelia?”
“Hmm?”
Harry had been sort of holding your hand with one of his and playing with your hair with the other, and now you looked at him, resting your chin on his breast. He looked down at you with a loving, but sad, fondness in his eyes.
“Have you decided on what school you’re going to?” he asked softly.
You shook your head. “I’m not so sure about France... After all, he was there at Crivellaremé Mortale just a few months ago... As far as I know, he’s never thought about America.”
“Métro and the F.A.I.A. are perfectly respectable...” Harry said softly.
You shook your head, your chin rubbing his shirt, “I know they are, if they weren’t, I would not have bothered wasting my time applying, I want a challenge... It’s not the respectable part I’m worried about...”
Harry nodded. “I know, Mia... You’re worried about an attack, or something. I can’t tell you how shocked I was that the only attempt on my life last year was the Mori’ksh-Naugs...”
You smiled slightly. “I seem to remember, at Christmas...”
“All right, that too,” he said softly. “But Métro is underground, and I remember you saying that part of F.A.I.A and Auret House are, too, along with all of the A.T.C.P., the A.I.R.M., and the Intsitut von Auren.”
You smiled gently. “You said it wrong.”
Harry’s brow furrowed slightly as his glasses glinted in the dusk sun. “What?”
“Institut von Aüren... It’s a deep sort of thing, and Aüren is sort of awwh-reen. So all together it’s sort of In-sta-tut v-ohn awwh-reen,” you said softly.
Harry rolled his eyes, shifting a bit under you. “I’m not the one with the languages-”
“Except Parseltongue,” you reminded him.
He shrugged. “Whatever. And blimey, you get to be a killer on the legs!”
You smiled in a coy sort of way. “That’s not all I could be a killer for...”
Harry’s eyebrows went up, but in a sort of entertained and interested way. Smiling, you gently kissed him, nodding, and said softly,
“I’m going back to England, I’m all gross from swimming round... need a shower...”
Quickly standing, you knew on an embarrassed sort of subconscious level that he was peering up your skirt. You grabbed your towel and shirt, hurrying away from him before he could grab you. Smiling back at him, you disapparated as soon as you got to the treeline. Opening your eyes and feeling the sort of dull English noon sun on your back, you went inside the house as it appeared in it’s back yard. Molly was, of course, fussing over the stove, and you hurried past her, telling her you wanted a shower and that it was past sunset over in the States. She waved as you went upstairs hastily, hoping that Harry wouldn’t catch up with you. At least, not too quickly.
Going up to his room, you grabbed a bathrobe and some underwear, vowing you’d change when you got out of the shower. Stopping in the hall, which you’d all painted a sunny, sort of sky blue a few days ago, you grabbed a towel. Going into the upstairs bathroom, you shut the door and shed your ripped skirt and bikini (soft yellow background with pretty white lilies on the foreground), wrapping the towel around you for the time being.
As you turned on the water, searching through your bag that you kept in there for a razor to shave, you suddenly felt arms slide down yours and jumped ever so slightly. The contents of your bag (women’s items such as make-up, brushes, razors, and, literally, women’s items) rattled slightly, and you turned. Of course, those brilliant green eyes were staring down at you, sort of fogged a bit, but that may have been either the steam rising from the hot shower as it ran, or... something else.
“Mind if I join you?” Harry asked quietly, smiling in a seductive sort of way.
Funny how a man could be seductive, wasn’t it? You smiled and reached, setting the bag in the sink, before wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him heatedly. Harry quite obviously had no objectives, and pulled you, if possible, closer, and his arms wrapped around you tightly. It was kind of familiar, tasting his mouth and feeling his tongue sort of caressing your own, but every time it enraptured you in a sort of almost catatonic state of fascination. A thought flitted across your head to see how pissed he’d get if you messed with his hair.
As the condensation from the hot shower water gathered on your skin, you gently ran your hands through his hair. Far from pissing him off, though, it sort of sent a shiver through him, and Harry made an odd gasp for air as you did that. You grinned against his mouth, knowing damn well that he was turned on. One of his hands crept up and roughly pulled the hair tie out, which had been keeping your long, dark hair in a messy sort of pony tail bun. As the hair that you severely thought of as annoying took it's little trip down to it's full length, Harry’s other hand crept towards the end of the towel that kept the whole thing wrapped around you. You knew he was painfully aware that only a few layers of cloth separated the two of you...
You reached and grabbed the hem of his shirt, letting your fingers linger around his abdomen long enough to get him to gasp. Taking advantage of the break from the snogging, you ripped his shirt over his head, biting your lip as you grinned. Harry was giving you a dark look that sent involuntary shivers through your body, his arms still wrapped firmly around you, fingers on the end of the towel. Smiling coyly, you dropped his shirt.
“Yes?”
“You’re evil,” he whispered, but with a kind of awe in it.
You grinned. “Why thank you.”
Shaking his head, Harry once again kissed you, slowly pulling the towel down your body. You felt a shiver run through you, which could be associated with any number of things from the sudden rush of warm, moist air on sensitive areas, to the fact that you yourself were feeling quite a warm sensation. As Harry pulled the towel down a bit, your chest region suddenly met his, and all actions stopped for a moment. He was frozen, feeling an unmistakable bit of your body that he’d never felt before pressed against his toned chest. You shivered slightly.
“Can I?” he whispered in your ear.
“I don’t care,” you murmured, letting your hands try to find the waistline of his swimming trunks.
Harry nodded, gently making a trail of kisses down your cheek and neck. “I wanted... to be sure... you were... completely... and totally... okay... with this...”
You nodded, shivering as his skin softly brushed against yours. His hand gently ran up the length of your arm as he kissed you again, and suddenly there was an alarm going off somewhere in the back of your head. You deftly and stupidly ignored it though, supposing it was Catherine rattling around like a bored dumbfuck. She’d taken to annoying the crap out of you not by talking to you, but just my pushing various buttons, usually ones that controlled emotions or, her particular favorite, ability to See. You’d walked around Hogwarts, on one of the last days there, dictating everything without realizing you were doing it, and three seconds before it happened.
Suddenly, though, you realized why the alarm was going off, and realized about five minutes past sanity that no, Catherine wasn’t being a bored dumbfuck and no, Catherine wasn’t pushing buttons, especially those controlling your ability to See. The little alarm had gone off all on its own, and you suddenly felt like you’d rather be back on the Quidditch field, last March, having Pansy hit you with her relatively weak Crucio, than standing where you were right now. You felt an invasion of blood hit your face, turning a red shade that probably would have done Ron to shame, and roughly pushed Harry away, wide eyed in horror.
Thankfully, he was not one of those men that became blind with lust and tried to grab back after they’d been shoved off, but he stared at you, curious, arms still around your ass, which was barely covered by the towel. There was quite clearly the question of “what?!” in his eyes, but you were too busy staring in an embarrassed horror over his shoulder, really wanting to evaporate on the spot. And suddenly, as if a whip had been cracked, a loud nose sounded from the door, and Harry froze in panic.
Fred coughed rather loudly, pushing George back and turning his back on the scene. You could hear George sniggering, and felt yourself blush worse.
“Er... if it suits the two of you, the general Order members here want a bit of a word,” Fred said loudly over his shoulder, a sort of unknown lilt in his voice. He dared a glance behind him, then flinched back around. “Or I could tell them that you guys are, eh... preoccupied.”
It was all too much for George, who burst with laughter and roared his way downstairs. Fred stood there, back to you both, for a moment, before nodding slightly and closing the door. In the ringing silence that followed his wake, minus of course the shower, you both heard him burst into laughter, as well. As his footsteps faded, you somehow felt the flush deepen as Harry gently pulled the towel up a bit more, so that you were decent.
“I think I’ll skip this one...” he muttered, grabbing his shirt and leaving.
You watched him leave, then quickly shed your towel and jumped in the shower, trying not to remember that close encounter. You quickly scrubbed yourself clean of all the sea salt and water, especially from your hair, and jumped out within five minutes. Grabbing the damned towel, you dried off and dressed in your robe. Glancing out before you left, you made sure there was no one, particularly a red haired clone, before hurrying to Harry’s room. It occurred to you that he might be there, but you saw his door was open and his room was empty, thank god. Going in, you closed the door and quickly changed into pants and a loose shirt, hurrying downstairs and hoping to god that the twins would not find it necessary to tell anyone about what they’d seen.
Then, of course, you had to wonder why they wanted to talk to you.
------------------------------- A/N!! HAHAHAHAAA OMG peoples I can't stop laughing over this one!! PLEASE tell me what you think!!! IT WAS SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE!!!
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