Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Warning: Fem/slash, cousincest.

I can feel her eyes on me.

I keep my gaze down as I adjust my skirt.

"Rosie?" Her voice is small.

I don't dare look at her. I lick my lips. "Yeah?"

"What did we just do?"

My checks burn and I'm having trouble breathing. "I honestly don't know."

A beat of silence then, "Me neither."

LIARS, my mind screams and as if she can read my mind, she makes a strange sound that I think is a laugh. We both know what we did. But neither can actually find the words to say it.

"What are we going to do?" she asks and I can hear her shirt brushing against her skin as she puts it on.

My breath hitches.

"I don't know," I admit, playing with my skirt again. I need something to do with my hands. "You?"

It is silent for such a long time I'm afraid she isn't going to answer but she does with, "I know it's wrong, Rosie, but."

"But what?" I manage, voice coming out in a croak. Can she hear the pounding of my heart?

"I liked it?" At that, I face her. Did I hear her right? The question dies on my tongue when my gaze lands on her.

She is wearing nothing but my shirt, her red ringlets falling gracefully over her shoulders, brown eyes watching me with a childlike wonder.

I can't take my eyes away and I know it's wrong, that we're wrong, but all these thoughts are pushed away by the intense desire to hold her in my arms, to have her soft skin against mine, to run my hands through her hair, trail kisses down her neck.

Suddenly, reason takes hold of me and I jerk away, looking anywhere but this pale beauty that is my very female and very much cousin.

"No," I whisper, and I don't know who I'm saying this to. Me, her or my foolish feelings. "This is wrong." I stand up off the bed, grabbing hastily at a crumpled up shirt of the ground. At this point, I'm not sure if it's hers or mine but I don't care.

My hands tremble as I slid it over my head, the fabric pulling at my hair. A sweet smell pf peppermint fills my nose.

It's her shirt.

I button it part way, my hands shaking to much for me to finish. I think I'm crying but I can't be sure. She calls my name but I don't look at her, don't look back as I grab a pair of shoes and run, run from her, run from my heart.

It's five years later and I'm married to a man I don't love and who doesn't love me.

But our marriage works because we need someone and we're best mates and the ones we love will never be ours.

We live in Paris, and I still have her shirt and he never asks and I never acknowledge the name that slips from his lips while he's dreaming.

Scorpius kisses me and I kiss him because that's what people in love do and it's all fine.

Until it isn't.

The dawn is just breaking when a knock on the door changes everything.

It's my husband who answers the door.

I'm in the kitchen so I can't hear who it is but I hear the rising and fall of voices. It's only a matter of minutes before footsteps are coming in my direction.

Scorpius comes around the cornor first. Then Albus. Then.

I drop the egg I had in my hands and it makes a wet sound as it hits the floor.

Our eyes meet and the world falls apart.

Scorpius comes to me, whispers i'm going to talk to albus and I nod numbly and they leave and it's only us, and she's still as beautiful as ever.

Something in me tightens.

I look down.

She comes closer to me, stands close enough to ghost her hand across my arm if she wants but she doesn't. "Rosie, look at me."

I want to. I really do. But I can't, won't, and shame burns my skin, making me flush bright red. "I'm sorry."

For what, I'm not sure.

This time she does touch me, touches my arm and I melt, all my defenses slip away and I look at her, look into her eyes and for a moment, she isn't my cousin, and this isn't wrong, and she's just the woman I'm in love with, the woman I want to spend my life with.

She places a finger to my lips, her lips curling upwards in amusement. "There's nothing to be sorry about." Dropping her finger, she starts playing with a piece of my hair. The action is strange yet nice. "You know it's not illegal here."

I don't know what to think, what to say. All I know is that I can't lose her again.

I bite my lip and look at her, tracing a finger across her jaw. She shivers. "What will our family think?"

"Screw them." She laughs, and it's a delightful sound to my ears. "They'll either be okay with it or they won't."

I lean against her chest, my check pressing against her heart, inhaling her scent as she wraps her arms around me. I think that this is just like old times. "I thought I was supposed to be the logical one," I murmur, causing her to laugh again.

"When we were in school, I always said I should have been Sorted into Ravenclaw," she says very seriously and I giggle because she is the definition of Gryffindor.

But then I instantly sober. "I'm scared, Lils."

She intertwines her fingers into my hair. "I am too. I am too."

Neither of us moving, we stay in silence before she breaks it with, "Rosie?"

"Yeah?" I mumbled, voice slightly muffled.

"I think I'm in love with you."

I jerk up, eyes widening. "What did you say?"

She pulls back, adverting her eyes. "Nothing."

I hold up my hand, breathing heavily. "No, not nothing. Did you just say you might...?"

She can't look at me. "Yeah, I did and maybe it's too soon."

Then I laugh for the first time in five years and I cup her face in my hands. "I love you too, Lily Luna Potter." And my lips are against hers and I know everything is going to be okay.