AN: Stephen Cornfoot belongs to JK Rowling. This version of Stephen Cornfoot was created by thanfiction. Derek Adams belongs to thanfiction.

"I'm a coward."

"No." This time Derek was absolutely sure of what to say. "A coward wouldn't have taken the Cruciatus with me last week when he could have gotten away."

"That's different." Stephen made a small dismissive snort. "I love you."

From "Reasons" by thanfiction

"Why would two teenagers sneak off together? Stephen and Derek last week…"

From "Perils of Studying Outdoors" by thanfiction

Stephen had always been a goal oriented person. It was one of the things Derek admired about him the most. A new spell, a good book, or the way he had tirelessly and enthusiastically thrown himself into Derek's OWL preparation, he didn't let go until he had done the thing properly. Today's goal, much to Derek's delight and amusement, seemed to be to snog him as thoroughly as possible.

It was unfair, just like everything else this year, how little time they had together. Stolen moments, never alone. Smuggled notes that could never make up for comfortable silences and long conversations. Discrete, fleeting touches that were a poor substitute for the feel of his lips and the press of his body. House segregation had been in effect since November and Derek couldn't remember the last time they had been alone together.

He had been on his way back to the common room, his mind full of too many things. Meeting tonight, and a mountain of homework that he could tackle only if there were no nightmares in the House tonight. He had reached the fourth floor corridor, the one with several tapestries, one of which hid a staircase leading to the floor above. Intent on his thoughts, he almost didn't see the lone figure leaning against the wall.

Stephen caught his eye and grinned, raising one eyebrow in a way that made Derek catch his breath, before disappearing behind the tapestry. The staircase was a relatively common trysting place for couples who knew about it, but today it was deserted. A fact that Derek was only vaguely aware of because the moment he ducked behind the tapestry, Stephen had pulled him over to the staircase and proceeded to kiss him breathless.

They ended up on the stairs, Stephen one step above him, leaning back on conjured cushions. The enchanted window above them let in a perfect imitation of the sun outside, casting shadows down the stairs. The kisses slowed down, becoming drawn out, almost lazy. Slowly savoring every taste, taking time for every touch as if mindful, or perhaps in defiance of, the thoughts that threatened to break through their stolen moment. This is all there is. This is all there ever will be.

Stephen broke the kiss first, breathing into Derek's hair, whispering softly. "I hate this."

Derek snorted, breaking the seriousness of the moment, tried to cover the sound with a cough and then chuckled in spite of himself. Stephen shoved at his shoulder.

"Not this," he said, the edges of his mouth quirking upward. He rested his forehead against the blond hair. The whisper returned. "I miss you."

Derek took his hand gently, rubbing circles across the knuckles. He frowned at a sudden thought.

"What are you doing here anyway? Don't you have class?"

Stephen shrugged. "We were let out early to do independent research."

This time Derek did laugh.

"Hmm. And what are we researching exactly?"

Stephen gave him a slight smile, too busy working his hands underneath Derek's shirt to give an answer. Derek leaned against him as the twisted jumble of thoughts in his head began to unravel. Conversation came easy, scattered with pauses as their lips found each other again. They talked, sharing stories as the day passed and the shadows grew longer. Classes, homework, House news. They catalogued their spell knowledge and talked of the meeting that night. The conversation turned to the DA-who needed to work on what, who was having nightmares, Susan's pregnancy and Sloper's latest conquest. This was their world, their fight and it consumed most of their time and energy. But in these rare quiet moments, they confided other fears. Everyone knew what the Creevy brothers had found when they went home for Christmas and Derek worried about his parents.

"I've never thought about his defensive spell work. Dad prefers his fists. But I don't think he even looked at those ministry pamphlets. I just wish I knew if he even tried to protect the house."

Stephen had concerns about his own family. "The university is about as safe as they come. They're essentially buried in the Muggle world. But if they were in the wrong place at the wrong time… I don't know if they know how much they need to stay hidden."

The shadows lengthened further and still they did not move from their temporary sanctuary. In softer voices still, they began to talk of Vancouver. Dreams. Future. Discussions of that nature these days ended with "if" or were avoided altogether. Derek held no illusion that he would be there for Vancouver. He knew that whatever it was, whenever it happened, he would be first in and last out. But privately, he held onto the desperate hope that Stephen would have a chance. And so he talked of Vancouver and museums and beluga whales and the Canuk's opening game of the season. And school and jobs and possibilities. And so what if for a few minutes he let himself believe it all? What if they talked, like they had a thousand times before, and he let the scene wander through his mind? Going home in June, slipping down to the pub for one last drink with his father. Letting Dad brag on him one more time before he broke the man's heart to follow his own.

So they talked of the future as if it would be there. Snape, the Carrows and Death Eaters be damned. They dared to have a lazy conversation, punctuated with lazy kisses as if they had all the time in the world. Pretending for one defiant afternoon that their dreams were an adequate substitute for the future they might never see.

The shadows were too long now, the sky changing colors, the afternoon drawing to a close. The kisses took on a new flavor, now longing, tinged with desperation and words it hurt to speak aloud. Is this the last time? Will we ever get this chance again? I love you. I love you. Final kiss. Final touch. Then turn to face the life before them.

Derek went first, looking first to his left. The spell came from the right, hitting him from behind. He stiffened as the Body Bind immobilized him. Stephen's reflexes were immediate, a silent finite leaving his wand before Derek fell and he caught himself against the wall. Their eyes locked and he had time for only one word.

"Run."

He stepped out from the behind the tapestry, heart racing, body tense, defensive stance. Hoping that his size and whatever words he could muster would buy enough time. Realizing as soon as he did that his attempts at distraction were futile because Stephen had stepped out of the stairwell behind him and took his hand. Squeezing, giving strength, taking comfort. Derek heard the hitch in his breathing and felt the ever so slight tremble in his body. He ran his finger along the side of hand that held his, the only comfort he could give as Carrow's eyes locked on to their entwined fingers. The lecture they had been about to receive for being out of bounds turned to indignant spluttering.

"PERVERSION! Disgusting, unnatural perversion! Not in this school!"

The screaming continued but Stephen moved closer and Derek dared a look at him. His body was poised to fight, hands clenched at his side. His face was angry, his chin lifted in defiance, but the look he spared for Derek, however brief, was full of love, hopeless dreams and the things that could not be taken from them. He heard the crucio and braced himself, holding onto those eyes and the promise they held as the curse hit him and he fell to the floor.