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Chapter 8 : Room of Requirement, Seventh Year.
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Beta'd by the awesome Michelle and PrincessPadfoot! Thank you!
J.K is super cool and awesome.
I was kissing her. It always took me a couple of minutes to realise what was actually happening. I was always so surprised that she wanted to kiss me back. But after that brief moment of confusion, the rest of it was like drinking firewhisky. It was perfect and spine tingling and knee-melting and everything. It was like the fairy-tale kisses described in all those children’s books that Mum forced me to read to Lily when she was young. I’d have to make sure that none of the Quidditch team heard about that, though. Or Amelie, for that matter. Handsome boyfriends don't read fairy stories.
I was amazed at how different Amelie was now that we were together. Before, when we had just been best friends, she was confident and clever and beautiful. However, the side that came out now, whenever we were kissing or flirting, was always much more daring.
My hands were on her lower back, clutching her closer to me, and my lips were pressed against hers. I never wanted to let her go. Merlin, I sound like such a loser these days, totally consumed by her. The way she moves, the way she looks, and the way she is. It was almost creepy.
It was almost Slytherin.
Maybe I should get out more.
Amelie leant away from me, her hands on my shoulders and she smiled down at me. She twirled a piece of my hair in her fingers.
“Hey,” she said quietly.
I had my back to the headboard of my four-poster, and Amelie was lying in my lap. I had been doing (more like attempting) to finish my History of Magic essay - then Amelie offered to help me and things had sort of gone off from there.
“Ouch, I think I’m sitting on your quill...” she said, and pulled the eagle feather quill out from underneath her. I laughed, and she moved her head closer to mine again. Her nose bumped against mine and her lips were stretched in an amazing smile.
“I thought you were meant to be helping me with my homework,” I asked her, but she silenced me with a kiss. Desire began to creep up within me, raw and vehement, as my hands moved up her sides and one went to her hair as the other snaked around her frame, still pulling her closer. There was no hesitation in her response. Her tongue slipped past her lips to tortuously caress my lower lip and glide into my mouth freely and begin a battle for dominance with my tongue.
Her hands found the hem of my t-shirt, and began to tug at it. I had to break the kiss for a second, and she pulled it off me and flung it to the end of the bed. I pressed my lips to her neck, and she flung her head back. I gently undid the buttons of her shirt one by one. Apparently, I was moving too slowly, and Amelie pushed my clumsy hands out of the way and peeled the shirt over her head and then attacked my lips with hers.
“James! James, are you in here?”
I swear little brothers are the bane of my existence. I really don’t know what my parents were thinking when they went and conceived ‘Albus Severus’ (I really don’t know what my parents were thinking when they went and called him that). I was a perfectly acceptable son, so they might as well have quit when they were ahead.
I opened my eyes, my lips still glued to Amelie. She leaned away from me, and rested her forehead against mine.
“Well at least you got my top off,” she said coyly.
I swear I almost cried.
“James...you need to come downstairs! Lily is having a massive argument with one of her friends and Slughorn is worried that she can Bat-Bogey hex as well as Mum...Woah there!”
Albus had pulled open the curtains of the bed, seen Amelie half-naked and then turned away sharply, covering his eyes with his hand like the immature 15-year old he was. At least he wasn't ogling her. Then I would have really gone to town with a sneaky Jelly-legs through the curtains.
“Hi Albus,” Amelie said, rolling off me and clutching her shirt to her chest.
“Hi Amelie,” he answered weakly, his voice croaking, “How are you?”
“I’m alright, thank you.”
“Enough with the formalities, Al. What do you want?” I asked.
“Lily. Great Hall. Big fight. Possibility of Bat-Bogey hexes,” he repeated quickly, his hand still clamped to his face.
I groaned and flopped back against the pillows, my fingers running through my hair. Amelie smiled sympathetically down at me.
“Can’t you deal with it yourself, Al?” I said, entranced by the little dimples in her cheeks.
“You know you’re her favourite, James,” he replied. He’s right, I am.
“I’ll go,” Amelie said quietly, sliding her arms through her shirt, “you go be a good big brother.”
I sat up, and held onto her arm to stop her from leaving.
“I’d rather be a better boyfriend,” I said and she gave me a quick, chaste kiss.
“Perhaps later,” she said and she shot me that flirtacious smile again and in that moment I wanted to throttle my stupid brother with his stupid school tie.
I watched as she left the dormitory, and I slipped my t-shirt back on. Amelie and I had officially been an item for about a month. When we had returned from Hogsmeade, everything had been perfect: nobody at school had questioned us and my parents had not been surprised when I had written to them about it.
“Can I look now?” Albus asked.
“Yeah, you annoying little shit.”
“Sorry,” he replied sarcastically, finally turning around to look at me, “I thought that your little sister came before your sex life.”
“Very funny, Al,” I said sarcastically, swinging my legs over the side of my and putting my trainers on, “so Lily is in the Great Hall, right?”
“Yeah, screaming the whole castle down.”
“I’m excited,” I muttered as I walked down the staircase towards to the common room, Albus close on my heels. As we crossed the crowded room, I spotted Amelie talking to another seventh year girl. She saw me pass and gave me a shy smile, which I returned. Albus noticed.
“So, have you and Amelie done it?”
“You know, sealed the deal, tapped that ass. Had relations of a sexual nature.”
I was too shocked to answer. My younger brother was asking whether I have ‘had relations of a sexual nature’ with my girlfriend. Part of me wanted to knock his lights out and the other part wanted to Avada Kedavra myself with embarrassment.
“How many times do I have to remind you that we are not related?”
“Once more, James. So have you done it?”
“No,” I answered quietly as we scrambled through the portrait hole, “if you hadn’t have walked in on us, that answer might have been different.”
“At 4 o’clock in the afternoon? On a Sunday? I don’t want to hear about it!” Albus said, sticking his fingers in his ears and singing a Weird Sisters’ song loudly and out of tune.
“You brought it up!” I retaliated. We descended three flights of stairs. The rain was slashing against the walls of the castle.
“You felt the need to disclose inappropriate information!” Albus said.
“You should have been in Ravenclaw.” We snuck down a secret corridor, both of us jumping simultaneously to avoid a trick step. I pushed aside a tapestry, and we both stepped out into the entrance hall. The stained-glass windows were decorated with raindrops. Albus was still mumbling retorts at me - comebacks as witty as ‘you’re adopted’ and ‘your face’ and ‘you’re secretly the spawn of Voldemort’, but he stopped as we both heard Lily yelling from the Great Hall.
“What the hell has happened to her?” I asked Albus as we began running towards the sound of her voice.
“I don’t know. Slughorn met me on the way down and I went straight to you. He only gave me vague details. He was pretty out of breath.”
“He had just climbed the marble stairs...oh my sweet Merlin! Lily!”
We had entered the Great Hall, and stopped stock still in the doorway, looking at the scene before us. Lily was standing in the centre of the room, her fiery red hair ablaze and her face contorted with anger. Her wand was stuck out in front of her. A blond girl, about Lily’s age, was levitating upside down in mid air, her face slowly turning purple.
“That should teach you to stop copying my homework behind my back!”
Neither Albus nor I dared move. Lily seemed to be channelling not only our own mother, but also Aunt Hermione and Grandma Molly at the same time. She was insane, and I was fully prepared to turn around and flee.
Albus, being the slightly more rational one, stepped cautiously towards our younger sister.
“Lily,” he said calmly, as if talking to a four-year old, “I think it is time to put Beatrice down now.”
She turned around and stared at him, her eye twitching manically. Albus recoiled slightly, signalling to me for back up. I advanced carefully, desperately aware that I was unarmed.
“Lily. I think you are going a bit mental,” I said simply. Albus turned to me and mouthed ‘what the hell’ and Lily looked prepared to bite my face off. I kept going.
“No, really. You’ve got the twitch and everything.” She was sidetracked, and out the corner of my eye, I saw Beatrice the blond girl fall to the floor as Lily’s eye contact was broken. If I distracted her, then she wouldn’t hurt anyone else.
“James...” Albus said warningly.
“Lily, when was the last time you had a full night’s sleep?” I asked her, very aware of all the other people in the hall listening into our conversation.
“Well, I’ve had homework all this week, and then Charms Club and Gobstones Club and Duelling Club and then I helped out Aunt Hermione with her SPEW fundraising, so...I’d say about four nights ago.” Her voice was high-pitched and she spoke very fast.
“I think you better go lie down, Lils,” Albus said, and put a comforting arm around her shoulder and led her away to the hospital wing.
Why was everyone in my family so fucking mental?
I was about to follow my brother and sister out of the hall, when I saw two beaters from the Slytherin Quidditch team sniggering in the corner of the room. I stiffened, and walked over to them.
“Is there something wrong?” I asked them angrily.
“Oh hell no,” one of them answered. He was beefy and had no neck, “we were just saying how hot your sister is.”
I punched him. On the jaw. Heard a crack that could have possibly been my knuckles. The beefy boy bent over, clutching his face, and his friend just stood there with his mouth hanging open.
Sufficiently pleased with that day’s work, (one less psycho red-head roaming the corridors and one less Slytherin playing on Saturday) I proceeded out of the hall and towards the tapestry that hid the entrance to a secret passageway. I was just about to step inside when a person with long, dark hair attacked me.
“Amelie, what the...”
She pushed me against a wall; her eyes were bright and twinkling and her cheeks were slightly flushed. She kissed me quickly and impatiently, and I was so shocked that she did that I failed to respond and my arms remained hanging awkwardly by my side.
“Well hello to you too,” I said, and laughed inwardly at my own wittiness. Amelie smiled.
“Is it true that you punched Joseph Stone out?” She asked. Her voice was oddly breathless. I stuck my chest out proudly.
“Well yeah.” I tried to pass it off as if it was a small thing, but really I could still feel my hand throbbing painfully.
“That’s so hot,” she whispered, and she kissed me again and this time I was prepared. My arms snaked around her waist, pulling her closer to me yet again. Her lips and tongue moved simultaneously with mine as she pushed me further against the stone, cold wall. When we both broke apart for lack of oxygen, I was horribly aware that we were in the middle of a busy corridor, with students passing to and fro and a particularly annoying group of first-year girls giggling and pointing in our direction.
“Perhaps we should find somewhere more private?” I asked, and Amelie nodded, grabbing me by the hand and pulling me into a nearby broom closet.
As soon as the door slammed shut, and there was silence, I held Amelie’s hand and pulled her towards me. I gently steered her towards the wall of the tiny room. My lips embraced hers effortlessly. My body pressed against hers and a feverish feeling began to spread across every inch of my body. I felt a rapid blush spread across my chest and arms and my body tingled with warmth.
My lips caressed hers gently as I cupped her face with my hands. My insides, which seemed to have disappeared when we shared the kiss in the corridor, had definitely reappeared because they were twisting in a bizarrely painful yet delightful way.
Amelie’s hands trailed down from my hair and over my shoulders. She pushed me gently off her.
“I think something is sticking in my back,” she said, and moved and broom out from behind her. She smiled, and weaved her arms around my neck and leant forward to kiss me again, and I stepped back, my foot getting caught in a bucket and I tripped and fell to the floor. A shot of pain flashed through my crippled hand.
“Oh, sorry!” Amelie said, her voice concerned, “are you alright?” She attempted to come towards me, but stumbled on a crate of Mrs. Scower’s All Purpose Magical Mess Remover. She fell on top of me and a whole heap of dust billowed up around us. Amelie snorted, and began laughing hysterically. I joined her.
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t realise this one was taken.”
The door had opened, the sunlight streaming in. I could see the dust hover in the air as Amelie squinted against the light.
“Oh, hello Watson,” she said, rather scathingly. She picked herself off me and dusted herself down.
Georgia Watson was standing in the doorway. A boy I vaguely recognised from Ravenclaw was standing awkwardly behind her, his hand loosely wrapped in hers.
“I can’t believe that you chose this cupboard to hook up in, Potter,” Watson continued with stupid, girlish giggle, and I began to worry about where this was going, “do you remember last year? After the Hufflepuff game?”
I cringed mentally. In our sixth year, after a Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff game, there had been a party in the Room of Requirement. I had, for want of a better word, got completely smashed. Amelie was not around to help me out, and so I fallen drunkenly into the arms of one Georgia Watson.
I heard Amelie inhale quickly beside me, and I grimaced.
“Shut up Watson,” I retorted through gritted teeth.
“So you’re not using this one anymore, then?” Watson asked, “Because Michael and I have a lot of studying to do.”
I was pretty sure the only studying they were doing was of each other.
Amelie grabbed my hand forcefully and pulled me out of the broom closet. Watson and the boy called Michael went in, and the door shut with a snap. Amelie dropped my hand and stalked off towards the staircase. I hurried after her.
She stopped, but didn’t turn around.
“I’m sorry about Watson. She’s a slag and I was drunk.”
She turned and actually laughed in my face. “You weren’t drunk the other times.”
“You knew about that?”
“Oh please,” Amelie said, and I was surprised that she could talk about it so freely without getting jealous or upset, “in sixth year you wanted to compare sex positions.”
“That was only because I wanted to know whether you had got down and dirty with anyone.”
“Down and dirty? Slughorn called, he wants his lingo back,” she laughed again. I recoiled as my vocabulary got a metaphorical beating.
“Do you care?” I said.
“I don’t care about that, James,” Amelie said, and walked over towards me.
“Then what is it?”
She pulled me closer to her and we watched as two fourth-years went past.
“Do you think that we should, you know, talk about it?” Her voice was hushed, and I was confused.
“Why the hell would you want to talk about Georgia Watson?”
She hit me around the head, and I rubbed the sore spot, pouting a little. She smiled.
“You know, do you think we should talk...talk about having...sex?”
I stared at her. I was surprised that I didn’t feel awkward.
“I have been noticing that our little kissing sessions have been getting rather heated lately, if that’s what you mean,” I said.
She laughed again, and kissed me briefly on the cheek.
“I’ll see you at dinner, then?” She said, moving away from me down the corridor.
“I thought you wanted to talk about sex?” I shouted after her, and the smallest first-year I have ever seen squealed and leapt about five feet in the air. I glared at him and he froze, his petrified eyes fixed on my face. I cleared my throat importantly.
“One day,” I began, “when a man and woman love each other very much...”
He scurried off, and I chuckled to myself. I knew it was absolutely and wonderfully vital and Binns would love me forever if I finally tried to finish my History of Magic essay, but I definitely had more important things to do.
“Careful! I almost walked into the wall!”
I was leading Amelie, who had her eyes closed, towards the Room of Requirement. I paced up and down outside the wall three times, thinking the same thought each time. A large oak door appeared and I opened it, gently pushing Amelie inside.
“Open your eyes.”
And she did. She saw the Room of Requirement looking like it had never done before, with a grand four-poster bed in the centre. There were candles everywhere, and an old radio was playing romantic music. I put my hands on my hips, satisfied with my own work, only to look at Amelie and see that her face had fallen.
“What do you think?” I asked cautiously. She nodded, a large, fake smile playing on her lips.
“I like it,” she said, a little too enthusiastically.
“It’s a little bit pretentious, don’t you think?” Her voice was quiet, and I could tell that she didn’t want to upset me. I took her hand in mine.
“I wanted it to be perfect.”
She pulled me over to a large sofa, her hands finding mine and playing unconsciously with my fingers.
"Listen James. I love you. I'm sure there are plenty of girls in this castle that want to have sex with you in a room full of roses and candles and champagne and velvet and...” she paused for a second, looking around, “are those oysters? But James, I'm not one of them. I don't care what Georgia Watson says. I just need you. That's all I want."
She grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me closer to her, so that our noses touched.
“I love you,” she whispered.
“I love you too.”
We kissed softly, and she leant away and stood up. She held out her hand for me, and I took it. We left the Room of Requirement and disappeared towards my dormitory. Thankfully, it was empty, my classmates were at Quidditch or in the common room. Amelie pulled me into the room, and I shut the door with my foot. The rain was still hammering at the windows as we shifted to my four-poster bed.
She grinned down at me and then leaned in, pressing her lips gently to mine. Somehow, I rolled us over so that I was on the top and I felt her tug my t-shirt up over my head. Her shirt came off sometime soon after and before I knew it, my fingers were at the back of her bra. I paused for a second, waiting confirmation from Amelie. Her hand moved to my cheek and she kissed me affectionately, her eyes fluttering closed.
This was definitely different. During my clumsy experiences with Georgia Watson, or various stuck-up Ravenclaws, I had never fully appreciated how different it was to be with someone you love, someone you cared about. Someone you could possibly spend the rest of your life with.
I felt slightly lightheaded and my stomach was doing cartwheels in my abdomen. My lips moved over hers, only stopping when I paused for air or to kiss her neck or collarbone. My hand moved unconsciously to the button of her jeans and I heard her breath hitch in her throat. I looked down at her, worried that she didn’t want this. She smiled at me, and I felt my insides disappear.
This was it.
This is un-beta'd because I wanted to get it out quickly to make use of the Super-Uber Queue (thank you staff). Check out my MTA page. HYLHHH.
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