I do not, in any way, shape, or form, own Harry Potter.

Harry was in trouble. While that was really nothing new for him, this particular brand of trouble was one that he had never experienced before. Walking to the library, he stopped dead when he felt a slight tingling at the back of his neck. He took a second to look around before turning around and sprinting in the direction he had come from. No reason he couldn't do his homework in the common room, he decided. Naturally, he crashed into someone while running, knocking them both to the floor.

"Sorry!" he hastily called as he got to his feet. It wasn't until he extended a hand to help whomever he had run into that he realised who it was. His hand jumped to his hair, which he ran it through nervously. The tingling feeling at the back of his neck intensified.

The girl he had knocked over picked herself up, long hair dancing around her face as she did. Harry noticed (again) when she fixed them on his own that her eyes were the exact same shade of brown as her hair, a shade that reminded Harry quite distinctly of hot chocolate. "You couldn't have helped me up?" she grumbled.

Harry gulped slightly and took an unconscious step back. Here, right here, was the source of his latest troubles. Worse than Ginny following him around like a lost puppy, worse than whatever Malfoy was planning, worse than the memory he had to collect from Slughorn, and almost worse than Voldemort himself was this girl, Eirwen Ellis.

"S-sorry, Ellis. Wasn't thinking. Bye!" Without looking back or responding to the "OI!" she shouted after him, Harry sprinted off to the Gryffindor common room, his robes whipping around his legs in an almost Snape-like manner. It wasn't until he had climbed two sets of staircases and was safely hidden inside a fifth floor classroom that he paused to catch his breath.

"Safe," he panted, though no one was around to hear him. As he leaned against the wall, recovering from his run up the stairs, Harry reflected on Ellis, wondering for the millionth time what it was about her that affected him so. Never before had he found himself unable to form coherent thought just because a certain person got too close to him. Not even Cho had had that effect on him the previous year: he had had trouble speaking, yes, but never thinking.

Maybe it was some form of Dark Magic. Ron would probably say so if Harry asked him, but that was probably only because Ellis was a Slytherin, which, in Ron's eyes, made her evil.

Maybe it was the fact that she had skipped a year in Potions? That was plenty intimidating, Harry rational- . . . reasoned, and it was, afterall, how Harry even knew a student a year below him in a different house.

Maybe it was the fact that she was, despite the house rivalries, a pretty good friend? Granted, a pretty good friend with whom Harry was on a last-name basis, but still. In addition to actually being civil towards him, Ellis actively sought his company. Since he was a year ahead of her in most of his subjects, Harry had spent many surprisingly enjoyable evenings with her in the library, helping her with her homework for Charms, Transfiguration, and Defense.

Or maybe it was the fact that she was really pretty? That couldn't possibly explain Harry's complete incapacity for rational thought around her, could it? Yes, she had beautiful eyes, which he often caught himself staring at. And he would be lying if he said he didn't rather like her haircut, or that he had never daydreamed about running his hands through it. Granted, her button nose was rather cute, and Harry might have been tempted to obnoxiously tweak it once or twice. He couldn't deny that the way her lips quirked up when she was trying not to smile at one of his unfunny jokes made his heart skip a beat. But none of that really meant anything, did it?

Harry pulled his glasses off with one hand and pinched the bridge of his nose with the other. "Hell," he muttered. "Stupid Ellis. It's all her fault, anyways. I definitely don't feel guilty about avoiding her. And I absolutely do not fancy her." He thought for a moment about how ridiculously he was acting. "I might have the tiniest crush," he admitted to the seemingly-empty room.

"Who've you been avoiding that you don't fancy and may have the tiniest crush on?" asked a soft voice behind him.

Harry whirled around, panic clear in his features. "What're you talking about?" he asked defensively as he started to get butterflies in his stomach. Why'd she have to follow him?

"I heard you, you know, Harry," Ellis replied. Harry felt his lips tug up in what he could only assume was a foolish smile. Ellis raised her eyebrows at him.

"That's the first time you ever called me that," Harry said, forcing his face into a mask of calm.

"Well, I was waiting for you to call me 'Eirwen,' first, but since you're completely oblivious . . ."

"Um, I'm not-"

"You're embarrassing yourself, Harry," Ellis (Eirwen, Harry corrected himself) sighed. "I notice you've been avoiding me this past week, and now I find you muttering to yourself about how you don't fancy someone you've been avoiding, and that you might have a crush on them. A girl might get ideas."

Harry gulped and took a step back, to which Eirwen responded by taking a slightly larger step forward.

"Odd . . . coincidence. Very odd coincidence. I wonder what the odds-" Harry stopped talking abruptly as Eirwen took another step forward do that they were only inches apart.

"I'm not stupid, Harry," she whispered.

"I kind of wish you were," he replied defeatedly, also in a whisper.

Eirwen wrapped her arms around Harry's neck and pulled him towards her. She smirked when she saw his eyes widen in shock before he snaked his own and around her waist.

"And what good would that be? One of us has to make the first move, Harry, and a girl can only drop so many hints."

"Is that what this is? A hint?"

"Idiot," she whispered fondly, "I'm done with the hints. You never picked up on them, anyway."

Harry pulled her closer to him. "People will talk."

"They always do. You're worth it, Harry. Am I?"

Harry never gave a verbal response. After what felt like hours but Harry knew could only have been minutes, he pulled away for air.

"Just do me a favor, Eirwen," he pleaded after a moment.

"Anything," she murmured into his shoulder.

"Don't sit so close to me in potions, anymore. I can't think straight when you push your body against mine."

Eirwen leaned back slightly to smirk at him. "I'll just consider that an invitation, then."

Harry grinned back, spun her around, and leaned down to plant a kiss on the back of her neck. "No fair!" she protested.

"Now you know how I feel," Harry whispered into her ear before nibbling on her earlobe. Eirwen spun around and started trailing kisses along his neck. She couldn't help feeling distinctly satisfied when she heard him moan slightly and felt him pull her closer to him.

Eirwen pushed Harry lightly until he was against a desk, which he sat down on heavily, pulling her with him so that she was straddling him. She was just about to start unbuttoning his shirt when an alarmed squeak alerted them to a third person in the classroom. She and Harry turned to see a furiously blushing Hermione, stammering about being late for dinner before rushing off in the opposite direction of the great hall.

"Erm," Harry supplied.

Eirwen sighed contentedly and grabbed Harry's shirt in both hands, pulling his face to hers. She gave him a quick peck on the lips, whispered "this isn't over, Potter," and hopped off his lap, heading for the exit.

Harry just stared mutely as she stopped at the door, turned, blew him a kiss, and left. "That's one way of dealing with that," he said to himself as he stood up and walked back to Gryffindor tower.

AN: Two new stories posted in a day? Boo yah! Well, one of them was a one-shot, and the other was set up like one, so it's kinda understandable, especially considering that I've had both of them more-or-less finished for ages. One thing I'd like to address, if only for the record: given the way this plays out, one could be forgiven for thinking that Harry's relationship with Eirwen is purely carnal. It isn't. Yes, they're acting like horny teenagers here, but that's because they're, well, horny teenagers. Two horny teenagers who are attracted to each other, have been wanting to start a relationship with the other for a while, and just got together in what they assumed was complete privacy. So yeah, I kinda felt anything less would have been a tad unrealistic.

On a side note, this story started life as a one-shot, then became a prologue to a longer story, then went back to being a one-shot so that I could focus on projects that I was more interested in. Kinda a weird development history, but there you are. As always, thanks for reading! Duke Out!