A/N: Man, I suck at crossposting... Anyway! I wrote this for Femslash February. Repeating fandoms so early in the month was a bit of a bummer, but I ended up liking this anyway. Enjoy!

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Lavender and Parvati ran as quickly and as quietly as they could, their trembling fingers twined tight together. Their pursuer– Crabbe, Parvati thought, it was definitely Crabbe, oh, Merlin– wasn't far behind; they couldn't see him, but they could hear him, one footfall pounding after another, coming closer. Lavender choked on a sob and stumbled, scrambling to stay upright.

Turning a corner, they both swore softly to realize it was the wrong one. It was too late to turn back and so they pressed on, flying blind until the portraits called out to them in whispers, hardly loud enough to hear over their own heartbeats. Giving them directions was too risky– too much chance of being heard– but they could still direct them.

Behind them, they heard one of the portraits shout out at Crabbe, demanding he deal with the disturbance down his hallway. It was the hallway opposite of the direction Parvati and Lavender took.

Parvati had to bite back a moan of relief; at her side, Lavender pressed a hand to her mouth to hide another sob. They'd just begun to breathe almost normally when one of the portraits up ahead shouted, "Someone ought to put these children to bed, I think!"

Though the response was too quiet to make out, both of them recognized Blaise Zabini's voice. Not as bad as Crabbe, not by a long shot, but still not someone they wanted to run into and they could tell he wasn't far.

Lavender froze; just for a moment, but long enough to panic Parvati in turn. Hardly thinking, she shoved Lavender to the side, ducking them both in behind a suit of armor. Footsteps, steadier and quieter but no less dangerous than Crabbe's, came their way. They held each other and trembled, barely daring to breathe and praying their heartbeats wouldn't give them away.

Clutching Parvati hard enough to hurt, Lavender pressed her lips to the juncture of Parvati's neck and shoulder as if to gag herself with Parvati's flesh. Parvati caught her breath and leaned into the embrace, the almost-kiss; she held tight to Lavender and closed her eyes, breathed in Lavender's scent and tried to imagine they were somewhere else, tried to make the image calm her.

Outside their hiding place, Blaise Zabini walked by; he never even slowed.

Still they huddled there in the alcove, in each other's arms. They stayed long after they couldn't hear anyone anymore, because how could they be sure of what they heard past the blood pounding in their ears? Only when the portraits began to make noise to suggest the coast was clear did they peel themselves off of each other, standing on shaking legs and setting determined jaws. Before crawling out of hiding, they shared a kiss– quick and chaste, but no less passionate for it– just in case it was the last chance they'd have.

They slipped back out into the night hand-in-hand.