"Love In All Its Forms"

Summary: A collection of short romances, involving various Harry Potter characters. They range from the more lighthearted and sometimes comical, to happy romance, to dark and sinister tales of unrequited love, to everything in between. I'll aim to write them in a variety of styles; right now I'm seeing some songfics and some more traditional stories. Rated "M" for mature sexual content in many of the stories.

(Note: I suppose I should warn: there will be slash and femslash. Try not to let it deter you.)

A/N: This is mostly a proposed solution for my random bursts of wanting to write a romance story but never being able to finish. Some of these stories may be excerpts from some of my other works just for creative order, I guess. Read and review, constructive criticism ALWAYS welcome, and even flames, if they'll help me accomplish something. Otherwise, enjoy, or not. Whatever suits you! (And, just for the record, the following is not a songfic, despite the title)

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I wouldn't be sitting in bed writing fanfictions, I'd be sitting in bed with Harry Potter! (Did I just say that out loud?)

"The Guilty Ones"

It was the soft warmth of your steady breath that woke me. Your arm flung across my torso, your leg curled tenderly around mine. I moved the sheets aside--the little shadows in the creases of wrinkles seemed blue in the pale light that spilled in from the huge rectangular window across the room--and gently removed myself from your embrace to rise from bed and cross to the window. The floor was wooden; smooth and glassy; cool to the touch. Something that I hadn't noticed just a few hours ago. But then, a few hours ago we had rushed in our haste across the surface, laughing and racing each other to the bed with a few light kisses, a few embraces as candles flickered in playful imitation of our passion.

I looked straight ahead of me at one of them, a drip of wax frozen in its path. Now it seemed cold, its gaze fixed upon me, rooting me to the spot.

Everything was still; nothing gave the slightest trace of movement, except for your soft breathing from the bed.

So far away.

I turned again and walked back to you. You projected a delicate innocence; curled, naked, upon a bed of silk, your milky skin and soft, fiery hair in such contrast with each other. I took my gaze slowly down your body; the definitive turn of your upper lip... I remembered tracing my lips from the corner of your small mouth—so small—down to the gentle curve where your neck met your shoulder... a tender, vulnerable patch of skin that caused pleasurable tremors to run through you when I touched it...I brought my eyes down to the gentle curve of your breasts, set out against the sheets. They were small; full, and so nearly virginal...my eyes traveled down to the softness of your stomach; the sight of its welcoming tenderness brought a gentle warmth to my inner thighs. I reached a finger out and gently moved it down its center; you stirred slightly, then relaxed again. I continued my path down one of your thighs, moving gingerly around that area so previously unexplored. I sat as gently as I could on the bed next to you, my hand now resting on your thigh. Your eyes opened slowly, already fixed on me with that gaze that had set my heart burning since you'd first graced me with it. You smiled and stretched, leaning in to kiss me gently on my lips. I raised my hand to hold your face to mine. This is wrong. You brought a hand up to stroke my hair, which I had tied loosely. I felt my lips tremble beneath yours as my stomach twisted uncomfortably with pleasure. You ended the kiss abruptly, still close to me and smiling.

"What is it?" Your soft voice caught me off guard, as it always did. I smiled back, laughing slightly. The laugh was nowhere near as bouncing and lively as yours... now, more than ever, I noticed its waver, its age.

"Nothing, my love... it's nothing. I just--" to my surprise and horror, I felt tears fall from my eyes when I blinked. You reached a hand out to wipe them; I attempted to wave you away, but you just drew my head to your heart.

"Do you hear my heart beating, Minerva?" You breathed in my ear as my tears trickled onto your chest. I finally resigned and wrapped my arms around your waist, pulling myself closer to you. You stroked my hair consolingly for a moment, until I felt a wetness on the top of my head. You must have been crying, too. In that instant, you released me and put your head to my chest, situating your ear just above my heart, clutching at my back just as I had yours.

"Wherever I go," you said hoarsely, "I can hear it beating..."