Four days later, Daveth finally managed to corner her in the school yard, during breaktime. "What's going on, Meg? Why are you avoiding me?"

"I'm not avoiding you!" Megan protested. "Just… I've been busy."

"No, you haven't. Or at least that's not all." Daveth seemed more upset than she had expected. "Come on. That night, in the gardens… You liked it, didn't you? You were all over me. And now you haven't looked at me all week."

"Well, I've been busy, as I said." Megan shrugged. "It was just a bit of fun. No need to get all worked up over it."

"What do you mean, just a bit of fun?" Daveth actually looked a bit hurt.

"Oh, come on, Dav. We were making out." Megan rolled her eyes. "You act as if we're married. Honestly, I'm not looking for anything serious right now."

"So that's it. Guess I'm not good enough for you after all." Daveth snorted. "I should have known."

Oh shit! Megan could have slapped herself. Of course Daveth was bound to take her rejection that way. He was here on a scholarship, one of the few students who didn't have to pay the considerable fee Beauxbatons asked. And Megan respected him for that. No parents paying his way for Daveth, and no expensive private tutors preparing him for exams. He was here on his own merits, because he was just that good. Megan wasn't a snob. True, Daveth's accent was a little rough, and he could be vulgar at times, but she didn't mind if he talked dirty to her. It had turned her on like crazy that night. And he was hot, he really was. She just-

"That's bullshit, Dav, and you know it!" Her sincerity must have been audible, because he didn't contradict her, just listened quietly. "You're a great guy, and I like you. And yeah, messing around with you was hot. But I'm not in love with you, and you're not in love with me either. I'm not going to risk both of us getting expelled just for-"

"What do you mean, expelled?" Daveth grew pale. "Just because-"

"Professor Delagardie was furious, Daveth." She didn't have to make that part up. "He told me he'd keep an eye on me, on both of us, and if he ever saw us behave like that again, he'd tell the headmistress." Megan bit her lip. Okay, now she was stretching the truth a little. Better resist the temptation to embellish her story too much. "Trust me, if he catches us again, he'll go ballistic."

"Shit, shit, shit." Daveth looked genuinely crestfallen. But he hadn't contradicted her about the being in love part, so she assumed it was true. "I'm sorry if I was a pain right now." He smiled tentatively at her. "But hey…" He caught her hand in his, stroking his thumb across her palm with just enough pressure to make her shiver. "Are you sure there's nothing you can do for me? Not even… Listen, Megan, I'm going crazy right here."

"Well, as a matter of fact …" She grinned, as an idea struck her. For the past three nights, she'd been experimenting with the spells from Duncan's books, and now was as good a time as any to try out her ideas in practice. "Close your eyes."

She kept a firm grip on his hand, but didn't touch him otherwise. Then she concentrated hard. Hands first… She imagined wrapping her fingers around him, gently at first, then with more insistence. And then she took a deep breath and muttered the words of the spell.

"Merlin's left-" Daveth's eyes flew wide open, and he was gasping for air. "What are you doing?"

"Shhh." Oooh, this was fun. Megan slowly adjusted her mental hold on him, focussing on keeping up the spell until he was fully hard.

"Damn it, Megan." Quickly glancing around to make sure no one noticed, Daveth reached under his robes to adjust his jeans. "What kind of spell is this?"

"Just relax and enjoy." Megan grinned. "I'm going to teach it to you, if you want. Now…"

And she went for the second spell – tongue. Just a gentle lapping at the tip, then a hint of suction, two more small flutters, and-

"Megan!" Daveth almost shouted her name, and at the other side of the yard, Mme De Launcet raised her head, frowning at them.

"Keep it down," Megan hissed. "There's one more. Do you want me to try it or not?"

"I…" Daveth was trembling, and she could see fine pearls of sweat on his forehead. "Oh, screw it. Go ahead."

And Megan cast the third spell, the most difficult. She had no idea whether she actually managed to convey the feeling she was aiming for, but Daveth grew tense all over, biting his lip so hard he drew blood. A shudder went all over his whole body, and then he let go of her hand, shaking his head with a brief laugh. "You're all kinds of crazy, you know. You just made me-"

"Shhhh!" Megan raised her hand in warning. Mme De Launcet was on her way over, a strict expression on her gaunt face.

"What is going on here?" The old lady glared at Megan, who put on her best concerned face.

"I'm worried about Daveth, Madame. He keeps shivering and sneezing, and I think he might have caught a cold."

Next to her, Daveth was coughing vigorously, whether to hide his laugh or in an effort to lend some credence to her story, she couldn't say.

"Hm." Mme De Launcet sniffed disapprovingly. "It certainly seems that way. Off to bed with you, young man. And you…" She raised an admonishing finger at Megan. "It's time for your next class, isn't it?"

"Indeed, Madame." Megan curtsied gracefully, gesturing at Daveth to get away. He did so with an air of relief. He's probably glad to have a chance to get out of his clothes. But at any rate he seemed to have forgiven her. Good. The last thing she needed was a ditched lover with a grudge against her.


The staff room with its elegant Louis Quinze furniture was quiet at this time of the day, and Duncan was grateful for a little respite from the noise in the corridors. Pouring himself yet another cup of coffee – his fifth today – he suppressed a yawn. Merlin, but he was tired! And it was only early afternoon.

The nights spent with Megan were beginning to take their toll. They'd met two more times during the past week, and while the sex was awesome, he wasn't exactly twenty any more. These days, he needed a good night's sleep on a regular basis, if he wanted to function. Of course, Megan didn't seem to mind. This morning, in class, she'd been positively glowing, abuzz with energy and as bright-eyed as ever. Duncan sighed and took a sip, wincing when his stomach reminded him that there was a reason most people limited their caffeine intake.

"Duncan. Everything all right with you?" Riordan had come up behind him, placing a friendly hand on his shoulder. "You look tired as fuck, excuse my French." He grinned. "I'd ask what you've been up to all night, but hey, it's not as if there's anything exciting to do round here."

"Not really." Duncan grinned back. They had first met at university, in Paris, and they'd used to party all night back then. Those were the days… "I guess I just need a vacation."

"Already?" Riordan let his hand linger a little longer, subtly adding more pressure. "Damn, but you're tense. You sure everything's okay? You seem preoccupied lately."

"I'm fine." Duncan shook his head. "Just wishing Madame Maxime would spring for better coffee. This…" He lifted the dainty porcelain cup with a grimace of distaste. "This hardly deserves the name."

"I think we can all agree on that." Riordan nodded, reluctantly withdrawing his hand. "Let's go for a drink some time, eh? Should do us both good."

Duncan nodded his agreement, suddenly feeling bad. He'd never lied to Riordan before. Of course, he'd never slept with a student before either. Still, in all probability his friend would understand. Unlike himself, Riordan had never been a stickler for propriety. He'd make fun of Duncan for abandoning his principles, but that would probably the extent of it. And yet… With another deep sigh, Duncan put down his coffee. Time to go. His students were waiting.


They had a late class today, and afterwards, they headed straight over to the Dining Chamber for dinner. By now, Megan had become used to the splendour of her surroundings, and she hardly even noticed the choir of graceful wood nymphs in the background anymore. She still did appreciate the food, though – after seven years at Hogwarts she had grown tired of Yorkshire Pudding and roast beef, chicken pot pie and treacle tart. The chefs at Beauxbatons prided themselves on the freshness and quality of their ingredients and favoured a lighter cuisine, with lots of vegetables and seafood. It made for a nice change.

"Could you pass me the bouillabaisse, please, Megan?" Leliana daintily wiped her fingers on her fine linen napkin.

Unlike Megan and Daveth, she had been a regular student at Beauxbatons, and she knew everything there was to know about the castle's architecture and history, plus a few choice morsels of gossip about the teaching staff. Megan was still not sure whether she really liked Leliana – she was a teensy bit too French for her taste – but she was definitely interesting.

Megan did as she was asked, and while she was at it, she offered the soup bowl to Alistair.

But he refused with a worried frown. "I'll have the lamb, I think. Looks a bit more familiar."

"A very good choice." Leliana smiled at him over her napkin. "Clearly, you have excellent taste."

"I do?" Alistair looked surprised, but pleased, and Megan had to hide a smile.

On the other side of the table, Morrigan rolled her expressive eyes skywards and sighed audibly, but she didn't comment, and Megan was glad. Alistair was so easily embarrassed that it seemed cruel to pick on him. Daveth would probably have made a snide remark, but he was still hiding in his room, nursing his 'cold'.

"So… You really never went to school before you came here?" Leliana sounded incredulous. "But why?"

"My uncle didn't want me to go to Hogwarts." Alistair was clearly uncomfortable talking about himself. "He had very strict views on the teaching of magic, you know, and I think he had some kind of falling out with the Headmistress."

"But you could have come here," Leliana cooed. "I bet you'd have enjoyed it. We would have taken such good care of you."

"Yes, well…" Alistair threw an imploring glance at Megan, and she took pity on him.

"Well, he's here now, and that's all that matters." She quickly cast about for a change of topic. "How did you like our Alchemy lesson today, Lel? Professor Lloyd is so amazingly knowledgeable. Is it true that he studied with Nicholas Flamel himself?"

"So he claims." Leliana raised a perfect eyebrow. "And of course the great Flamel lived in England near the end of his life, so it may even be true. Ah, ma chère, I could tell you things about Riordan Lloyd…"

"Oooh, yes, please do." Grinning, Megan leaned across the table to make sure she didn't miss a single word. "Go on. I'm all ears."

The meal passed quickly, with all the salacious anecdotes Leliana had up her sleeve. Alistair listened quietly, but attentively. His ears had taken on a faint pink tinge, and his eyes were wide with apprehension, but he didn't interrupt.

When they finally rose, he still seemed flustered, and even more so, when his legs got entangled in his blue silk robes. "Oh, damn it." He gladly accepted Megan's outstretched hand. "Blasted rags. I feel so stupid wearing them."

"They're not stupid. They're just school robes." Leliana shook her head, tutting disapprovingly. "And rather elegant ones, if I may say so."

"Trust me, they're better than most. You're just not used to wearing them." Megan grinned. True, the baby blue wasn't really her colour, and on the whole, the outfit looked much better on the girls than the guys. But the delicate silk was far preferable to the heavy wool they favoured in Hogwarts, to her mind. "You should try them on bare skin, you know." She winked at Alistair. "Feels amazing."

"But why would I-" And of course he blushed all over again. So adorable. "Never mind." He gave her a hopeful look. "So, you were saying you could help me with Ancient Runes?"

"Sure." Megan favoured him with her most encouraging smile. "It's not that hard, you know. We can meet in the library once or twice a week, and I bet you'll catch up in no time."

"You think?" Alistair cleared his throat. "That's awfully kind of you. I guess I'm just a slow learner."

"But you're really good at spellcasting," Leliana pointed out, fluttering her eyelashes at him in a manner that Megan secretly found rather annoying. Alistair seemed completely oblivious to it, though, keeping his attention firmly on Megan.

"Leliana is right." Gathering her books, Megan flashed an apologetic smile at the other girl. Though really, what should she feel sorry for? It was hardly her fault, if Alistair found her attractive. "Sorry, guys. I need to be off. See you in the library on Monday at five?"

"I'll be there." Alistair sounded eager. "Thank you so much, Megan."

"It's fine. A little revision will do me good." She glanced at the clock. "But I really need to run. Bye, guys."

Quickly, Megan made for the door, feeling a pleasant frisson run down her spine at the thought of tonight. Two more hours, and she'd be with Duncan again. She couldn't wait.


The sky was pitch dark, no stars visible through the thick clouds. Duncan was staring out the hotel room window, wondering what the Muggles down there in the street would think if they knew that a professor and a student from a wizarding school used their town as a safe meeting place. No one here at the hotel ever asked him any questions when he arrived – they just politely nodded at him from behind the reception desk and got on with their business. But what were they really thinking?

"Come back to bed." Behind him, Megan was curled up on the bed, naked and relaxed.

She'd been really eager tonight, more than willing to try out everything he'd suggested, and it had been beyond hot. So far, she'd never even flinched at his suggestions for new games, new positions, new spells. It was utterly intoxicating, the way she just soaked it all up, always learning, always hungry for new experiences. Had he ever been that curious himself? Surely, he'd never-

"Come on. You must be freezing." Megan yawned and stretched, and Merlin, how could she possibly look so cute and so sexy at the same time?

He was about to do as she asked, when he saw someone approach along the street, a tall, thin woman wearing a long dress, walking with a determined stride. Could it be- For a moment, he was utterly sure, it was her, Madame Maxime, and his heart nearly stopped. Instinctively, he stepped back from the window, his hands clenching into fists. Then she came closer and he realized he'd been mistaken. A Muggle woman, from the looks of it, with an average-looking face and greying hair. She wasn't even all that tall, he realized – it must have been a trick of the light.

"What's the matter?" Megan patted the bed next to her, and he sank down on it with a relieved sigh. "Still worried we'll get caught?"

"Of course I am." Duncan turned to face her, willing his heart to beat regularly again. "Aren't you?"

"Not particularly." Megan shrugged, grinning widely. "Besides, I don't mind a little risk. Makes it more exciting, don't you think?" She rolled her hips in a blatantly suggestive manner.

"Damn it, Megan!" It came out louder than he'd intended, and he felt bad when she recoiled in shock. "I'm sorry." He forced himself to keep his voice down. "But really! How can you be so-"

"Hey." She was back in his arms already, and she felt soft and warm and incredibly good. "Don't be mad. It's just… it really turns me on, you know? The thrill of it, the danger, the excitement. Admit it. You like it, too."

He didn't reply, but somewhere deep inside, he knew that she was right. It was exciting, and yes, he found it arousing, too. Still… How much longer could they really keep this up without tempting fate? How much longer until their luck ran out?


All the huggles and thanks to my wonderful friend and beta suilven.