George Weasley stood outside Merriella's room for quite some time. He reasoned that he wasn't nervous to study with her; he was just giving her extra time to get her room ready. After all, girls were usually late anyway right?

He stood there with his hand to the door, willing himself to knock. It had been five minutes of pacing. He looked at his watch and winced at his cowardice. "Come on George!" he whispered to himself. He heard a faint noise from inside the door, which made him jump.

He turned to flee back to his room, ready to forget the whole thing. Two things made him stop however. First, was the thought of them being together on the sofa. Maybe even sitting close enough for him to casually slide his hand past her knee; or lean over to look down the collar of her sweater that she seemed to favor wearing so dangerously low.

And the second reason was that he'd already risked being caught by Filch sneaking out this late. He'd unfortunately given the marauder's map to that blasted Harry with Fred. He'd felt generous at the time, but now he was kicking himself. He might as well go through with this plan.

He turned back around to the door and knocked softly.

"Coming!" came a feminine voice from behind the heavy oak. He was eternally grateful for the deep breath he took as he heard the door unlock and swing slowly open, because that's when Merriella appeared. If he hadn't have inhaled, he would have never gotten oxygen into them again.

Merriella stood there leaning, her arm draped casually against the door. Her usual pulled up bun was undone letting her long hair spill over her shoulders. She was wearing a slip. A SLIP; with lace trimming on top, providing a frame work for her décolletage, and a lace hem skimming the middle of her thighs. And over that a sheer robe that pooled on the floor around her bare feet.

George's mind grasped for meaning. Surely she wasn't seducing him. She had invited him over to study. To study. At midnight. Oh, but he was a twat! She asked him to study at midnight! He'd been so excited at the prospect of being her potions partner that he hadn't even considered asking why they couldn't do the same thing in a library in the daylight. Suddenly his hands became slick with sweat.

"George, don't just stand there, come inside."

When he didn't move, she reached her arm out to grasp his hand and pulled him into the room. He felt like an idiot when he jerked his hand away at the heat that sprang up at the contact. He knew it was going to feel like that.

She looked at him strangely and closed the door, turning to press her back into it. "So, did you bring your books?"

He stared at her. "Books?" he asked lamely. What books was she talking about?

"Your potion books? To study with?" Her eyebrows rose.

"Study?" He snapped back into reality. So, she really did want to study? "Course! Course I did!" George went to the small table behind him and lay his book bag down, and pulled out several volumes. His heart had sunk however. So, he was in for a night of tedious study, when he could be in his comfortable bed sleeping. And he had to keep his mind on disgusting potions, while a goddess sat next to him in an outfit that left little to the imagination. He was in for a long night.

"Oh good," she said, sliding her hand over his back to peer at the books he held. He jumped as her fingers pressed into his shoulder. She didn't seem to notice. "I'm glad you brought this one," she said taking it from him and opening the pages leisurely. "Did you have any trouble finding it in the library?" she questioned as she peered up at him from under her eyelashes.

"N-no, it was right where you said it would be." He watched as her rear swung from side to side as she walked away from him, still turning the pages with her long fingers. She looked back over her shoulder at him. "Would you like some tea?" she asked.

"I, um, no. Thank you. I'm alright." He swallowed.

"Nothing?" she seemed to pur.

"Maybe some water?" he squeaked, pulling on the collar of his shirt.

"Sit on the sofa by the fire, I'll get it for you." She walked to the kitchenette, reserved for rooms for the older students.

George made his way to the loveseat, and sat in the middle, plopping the potion books on the coffee table in front of him. He felt he ought to say something; something to relax his nerves. After all, she was a person, he was a person. There was no reason why they couldn't get through this night easily and with no awkwardness, especially on his part. Fred wouldn't have had this problem. He would have had this girl begging for him to kiss her by the time he was done charming her.

"Where's Cynthia?" he asked, referring to her roommate, his eyes on the fire burning brightly in the hearth.

"She's gone for the night."

"What? How?"

"She went to study with someone else. It's nice isn't it? Now we can study without interruption."

"Is that a thing with you girls?" he asked, completely missing the sultry tone in her voice. "Late night study sessions in other people's rooms?" He made himself busy organizing the potion books in front of him.

"No, this is the first time we've tried it. But I think it's going to work quite nicely."

"Well, this might be the last one for me," said George begrudgingly. "I had to sneak past Filch, and that was no easy task, believe me."

Merriella returned with his water, and handed it to him with a sigh. "I see," she said softly.

He glanced up at her face, and saw that he'd upset her. What was wrong with him? She was so beautiful, he should be grateful that she hadn't asked someone else to be her potions partner at all. One of the smartest girls in class, and she had asked him over to study with her at midnight! Not a bad way to spend an evening. He smiled weakly at her, in an attempt to show her he was joking. She didn't look as though she was amused.

She folded her leg underneath her and sat down next to him so that their knees were touching.

George flinched and she pulled her leg away. He wished he could control his bloody physical reactions.

"Merriella," he said turning toward her. He saw slight hurt in her eyes still. "Thank you for the water." He leaned forward and took a drink and placed it on the table.

"You're welcome. Should we get started?"

"Sure." They reached for the same book and their fingers collided as they touched the cover. Determined not to react to the sparks that flew up his arm, George kept his hand still, as she caressed it with hers, up then down. She pushed the book away and turned to look into his face.

His eyes flickered down to her neckline that sat low, revealing the top of her breasts, rounded and perfect. His heart was racing out of control. She followed his gaze and then looked up slowly. "George, do you like me?" she asked. He nodded and she smiled.

"I like you too," she said, raising herself up on her knees to peel the translucent robe off of her shoulders, letting it slide down her arms. "Wicked," he breathed at the sight of her undressing in front of him. This was the sexiest thing that was likely to ever happen to him.

He could only watch helplessly as she leaned forward and placed a kiss on his lips with a soft moan. His lips followed hers as she pulled away. She managed to separate though and turned to slide herself backward over his lap. His arms came around her waist gently, holding her satin covered hips in place. He was afraid to move too quickly; afraid he would frighten her, or wake up from whatever magical dream he was having. She wiggled over his thighs, sliding her body against his chest, and she leaned forward to kiss him deeply. His hand went to her neck to hold her mouth to his as she opened it, meeting his tongue, delicately stroking it with her own making sparks fly behind his eyes. Her hair fell softly over his arm, and the feeling sent shivers down his spine. He was drinking in her scent, a mix of orange blossoms and magnolia, pungent; making his head spin. Her breasts grazed his chest, and then she would press against him, as she kept moving, delightfully not staying still.

Oh god, he wanted her. He wanted her so badly. His fingers pressed into her hip, and he let her fall slowly back against the leather arm of the sofa. She was the most magical creature in existence, he thought. The way her tongue danced against his, the sweetness of her lips. His brain was spinning out of control. Eat your heart out Fred.

"George," she said against his mouth.

"Yes?" he asked, not breaking their kiss.

"I want you to touch me here." He pulled his lips away with a smacking noise and looked into her eyes as she slid his hand from her waist over her stomach, up to her breast.

"Alright," he said lamely, swallowing hard. He let his hand cup the mound underneath the satin fabric of her slip, and brushed his thumb over the peak of her nipple. She let out that delicious moan again and arched her back.

"More," she begged, and he couldn't help but oblige her. His fingers explored and teased. He guessed he was doing it right, because she kept telling him not to stop. Her hands went up into his hair, grabbing fistfuls, forcing his mouth deeper against hers.

"I think," she panted when she broke their kiss. "I think, we should move this to my bed."

"God yes," he said, but made no move to get up, and kissed her again, hand still on her breast. She slid her arm above her head, over the arm of the sofa, and grabbed her wand. With a flick of her wrist she was gone.

George's arms grasped at air, cursing as he fell forward against the warm leather where she had been a moment before.

"George, over here," she called from behind him. He took a deep breath at the sound of her voice calling his name, which once again he was grateful for, because when he raised himself up to peer over the back of the sofa, he would have had the air stolen from him once more. She was sitting on her bed, the covers pulled back, leaning back on her hands, completely naked.

He stumbled off the couch, standing up quickly and began walking slowly toward his destiny. "Y-you know, magic is only to be used by…"

"Are you really going to argue that point with me right now?" she asked, amused by the stutter in his voice, and the halted way he was walking.

"Erm, no," he said. He stood in front of her not sure what to do next. He held his hands in fists, willing himself to climb over her, and take her then and there. When he didn't move, she giggled, and stood up slowly. Running her hands over his jumper, up to his shoulders, and down to the hem, she slid her cool fingers underneath, and began to pull upward. George stood stock still, his arms at his sides.

"I'm going to need a little help here Love," she said.

"Oh, right." He lifted his arms, and pulled off the article of clothing, throwing it behind him, and made a grab for her waist.

"Not yet," she whispered. He reluctantly let go of the soft skin over her hips, and she slid the cotton shirt he had underneath his jumper over his head, so that his chest was completely bare. He shivered at the contact of the cold air, or maybe it was her, fiddling with his belt with her deft fingers. His hands went to her face, and he stroked her cheek with his thumb. She was so moved by the sweetness of the gesture, that she stopped unbuttoning the top button of his pants and looked up into his eyes.

"You're beautiful," he said. She smiled down, and placed her hand over his on her cheek.

"Thank you," she said. She went back to the button on his trousers, undid the zipper hurriedly, and pulled them down to his ankles, taking his shorts with them. She stood and smiled when she looked at his erection. Slowly she slid her fingers around it and squeezed gently.

George took a sharp intake of breath, and moved to pull her hand away. She was going to ruin him before he ever got to third base! "Merriella!" he cried, trying to be quiet, but finding it quite difficult.

"Yes?" she purred, releasing and squeezing again.

George went to his file of erection killing thoughts. Snape, standing over him in class, his gaze menacing and ugly; the stats of the Irish National Quidditch team; even the time when his mum caught him looking at those magazines. This wasn't helping…

"Merriella," his voice hitched. "I want to do this with you," he managed to get out.

She released him, and he gave a sigh of relief, but found he missed the contact desperately. He would soon remedy that. He was going to show this girl the time of her life.

He grasped her waist and pulled her flush against him. This was the most delicious feeling he'd ever felt before. He bent down to kiss her, as his hands made their way down to cup her bum, perfectly fitting in his hands.

"George," she said. "I want this."

His heart swelled. He knew this fact very well from the behavior now taking place, but to hear her say it was a shot of adrenaline to his pride. He didn't know what came over him, but he bent to scoop her up, and kneeled on the soft mattress, laying her down so he could gaze at her from above. This was all happening so fast, but he'd be damned if he was going to let anything stop what was about to take place.

His skin felt prickly and ticklish as he lay himself down over her.

Merriella watched as George Weasley knelt on her bed above her, his eyes fiery and lusty, and his lips pursing and un-pursing. She remembered the moment she'd first laid eyes on the twins, she had stopped short. She'd always had a soft spot for Gingers, and these two were no exception to that preference. They were laughing about something in the hallway, and she found out later that they had let off some kind of horrible stink bomb in Snape's office. They were much younger then, and ever since she had watched them from a distance, slowly observing each one in turn.

Fred was painfully cute, always having an air of mysterious confidence and mischief about him. In third year, she was positive she was in love with him. He never looked at her, but she was sure if she put herself in his way enough, he would notice her. This had put her in the path of George quite frequently, and while she would flounce around in front of Fred's face in what she hoped were outfits worthy of being noticed in, it was George's eyes that would watch her.

One day in Transfiguration, the only class she seemed to have trouble in, she couldn't manage to turn her rat into a mobile phone. McGonagall had seen her struggling from the opposite end of the room, and as she got up to point out her failings, George, who happened to be sitting beside her, flicked his wand discreetly and whispered the spell and her rat flopped onto the table with a clatter and began to ring.

"Very good, Merriella, brilliant job," said McGonagall behind her, patting her shoulder.

Merriella turned to George, and mouthed thank you, gratefully. He smiled and winked at her and crossed his eyes at McGonagall's back, and turned back to the book he was investigating. From that moment, she was gone, lost in the sweetness of George.

She had arranged this whole night, convincing Cynthia this was the best way to get what they both wanted. Unbeknownst to George, Cynthia had snuck away from the Ravenclaw dorms, across Hogwarts in the opposite direction to his room where Fred was waiting to "study" with her. Knowing Fred, though he might be more immature when it came to humor, he was leaps and bounds ahead of George in the other ways of maturity, and Cynthia wouldn't be back until morning. Her plan from third year had come together quite beautifully.

Now here they were, Sixth years, naked and devouring each other on her bed. Her heart leapt as he buried his face in her neck, enjoying the delicious sensations that the ministrations of his tongue were sending down her body. She massaged her fingers into his hair and spread her legs apart to wrap around his. He groaned into her mouth as she slid her leg seductively down his several times. Her hands stayed buried in his hair as he made his way down her neck over her the swell of her breast to take her nipple into his mouth and suck hard. It made Merriella moan with unbridled volume.

George looked up from her breast. "Ssh!" he chuckled.

"It's alright," she said aloud. "I put a silence spell on the room. No one can hear us."

"So you really did have this planned out?" he asked, laying soft kisses on her chest.

"Of course," she gasped, pushing her head back into the pillow, her eyes closed. "What did you think?"

"I don't know what I thought. You're not easy to read Merriella." He slid his tongue to the other side, and Merriella had trouble getting air into her lungs.

"I've been throwing signals at you for years George Weasley," she said, writhing under him, making him stiffen to catch his breath.

"Really?" He made his way up to her face again, and peered down at her. Her eyes fluttered open, and she stared back into his for a moment. "You went to all this trouble for me? Why?" he asked seriously.

Merriella moved her hand up to cup his cheek. "You're the most wonderful boy I've ever met."

He stared at her. "I didn't know."

"Now you do. And now you need to finish me, because I don't think I can stand this much longer," she said, gesturing to his erection, poised at her entrance.

He smiled, and captured her mouth for a moment, and pushed into her. Her eyes squeezed shut, and he pulled out only to surge into her harder this time, crashing through a barrier he didn't know was there. She let out a cry, and held his back desperately, trying to forget about the pain coursing through her abdomen.

George, began to draw out, horrified at the pain in the face below his, but she dug her nails into his back.

"No, no, stay there. It will pass." She felt it slowly ebbing away and her body adjusting to him.

"Merriella, I didn't think, I'm sorry. I thought…"

"What did you think?" she asked a hitch in her voice.

"There are just so many boys who like you, who walk you to your classes, who talk about you all the time…"

"What?" she asked, her eyes opening. "Are you calling me, what I think you're calling me?" her eyes became watery.

"No! No, you're not. Not to me. I just thought, well, boys talk. Sometimes they lie, and apparently they lied about you. I'm sorry."

"I don't think of anyone else but you," she whispered, letting her fingers roam over his face. His eyes went wide. "I've saved myself for you."

He let this sink in, and bent to kiss her tenderly. "I only think of you," he said against her.

"George, I hoped… I always hoped..." she kissed him back fervently, and then pulled her lips away. "Now, can we finish what we started?"

He was still sheathed inside her.

"Are you going to be alright?" he asked.

"Yes! For God's sakes George, I've waited long enough!"

He smiled his sweet crooked smile, and began to pull and push again, moving over her, as close as he could get to her body.

"Faster," she breathed. "I'm so close."

He didn't need to be told twice. He slammed into her a few more times, until she began to cry out in a way that made him follow right behind. He pushed into her once more, and collapsed on top of her, riding out the waves of pleasure together, rolling her to her side and holding her close until they both stopped tremoring.

They gasped for air, and Merriella buried herself in him, tucking her head under his chin.

"That was bloody fantastic," he said, his hands running over her back. "Give me a short nap, and I'll do that to you again.

She chuckled and slid her hand up and down his arm. "Please do. You're an absolute beast George Weasley." He lifted her chin, and kissed her mouth sweetly.