Ello my lovelies! Trying to get back on track with my updating! I am a busy bee lately and I apologize for the wait. The reason why this chapter is so short is at the bottom of the page. Don't hurt me! :) In case your memory needs some refreshing, Layla and Harry are heading back from the Room of Requirement party (and they're both a bit tipsy...or a lot) and they are going to Harry's room. Please R&R! I want to know what you think!

Disclaimer: For it is not the great J.K. Rowling and never will be!

Harry

When we reach the Gryffindor portrait hole to the dorms, we see that the Fat Lady is sleeping. What else is new?

"The old bat is sleeping." Layla mutters. I'm still carrying her bridal-style and I feel a bit light-headed. This could be from all the alcohol I consumed tonight or the fact that I just climbed three flights of stairs whilst carrying Layla. It's probably the two combined together.

"Thanks for that enlightening statement, Captain Obvious." I roll my eyes at her and she scowls back.

"Well how do you suppose we wake her up?"

"I don't know." I answer and then clear my throat loudly, hoping this will rouse her. No such luck.

"Oh Fat Lady!" Layla calls and then dissolves into giggles. Guess I'm not the only one who's drunk.

"Didn't work." I sing, feeling strangely giddy.

"Here let's try this." Layla takes a deep breath and then yells "OH MY MERLIN! FIRE! FIRE!"

"Are you fucking crazy, woman?" I try to sound stern, but I can't control my laughter.

"FIRE? WHERE?" I see that the Fat Lady has woken up and is on full alert. Shit.

"What fire, Miss Fat Lady?" Layla smiles innocently.

"But...oh I see what's going on here. Just two naughty children trying to sneak back into the dorms after hours, yes?" the Fat Lady smirks, her eyes glittering with triumph. "I can assure you that the Headmaster will be hearing about this." Layla rolls her eyes, clearly too drunk to realize the gravity of the Fat Lady's threat. I definitely do not want Dumbledore to find out about this. After all, this isn't the first time we've been out after hours.

"No, that will not be necessary." I tell her, trying to get my head clear enough to have a rational conversation. "We were doing...night rounds!" I lie quickly, hoping she'll buy it. She eyes me skeptically.

"Then why is it that you both look disheveled and so obviously intoxicated?" Well I don't have an excuse for that one.

Layla sighs. "Look Miss, we all know that Harry and I were out after hours doing who knows what, but as I recall, you're job is to let us in, correct?" The Fat Lady looks absolutely miffed at this and then gathers herself.

"Yes, that is correct, Miss Dawes." she gives Lay a look that has "where exactly are you going with this?" written all over it.

"Good, so this is when you ask what the password is and we say Fluffernurps and then you so kindly let us in." Layla still has her innocent smile plastered across her face. I shake my head at her, knowing how defiant Layla gets when she's tipsy. The Fat Lady just gapes at her in shock. Layla is usually well-mannered (when it comes to adults).

"I have never-" the Fat lady sputters, clearly at a loss for words.

"Excuse her, she's not herself. Can we please go in? We are a bit tired." I tell her politely. She just nods, squinting her eyes at Layla. The door swings open and I rush through it.

"Thank you!" I call over my shoulder. "Nice going, Layla. You have created an all-time enemy of the Fat Lady. Bet she won't let you in from now on."

"I'll just stay with you then. You know she likes you better." Layla shrugs as I carry her up to my dorm and throw her on the bed when we get to my room. None of my roommates are here, which is not unusual. Ron is probably getting it on with Mione as we speak, Dean and Seamus are most likely still at the party and Neville...well I don't know where that bloke goes. I strip off my shirt and throw myself down on my bed next to Layla.

"I'm beat." I announce.

"BUZZKILL!" Lay shouts, giggling like the drunken fool she is. There's a buzz in my head and a fog descends upon my brain. This is what I get for getting wasted. Merlin, I can only imagine the hangover I'll be nursing tomorrow.

"I don't have any PJ's!" Layla gasps as if it's the most terrible tragedy the world has ever experienced.

"Just wear one of my T-shirts or something. You usually do anyway."

"Okay!" she says cheerily, leaping up and going over to my dresser. "Actually, I swear that I kept my pajamas in your drawer. Look! I left my other clothes here!" she holds up a pair of shorts and looks utterly befuddled. I suddenly remember Dean telling me that he took some pajamas from my dresser for his whore of the night. So that's where they went. Well, I'm not going to be the one to tell Layla. Dean can feel the wrath of Layla all by himself. I do the smart thing and keep my mouth shut.

Layla starts undressing like she always does. She's like my sister, but somehow, it's different now. I try to force my eyes away from her, but it's not very successful. Only clad in her lace bra and underwear, she bends down, sifting through my shirts. I get a very nice view of her ass and I groan.

"Layla, just because I'm your best friend, doesn't mean I'm not a guy." She turns around, smirking at me.

"Why Harry? Like what you see?" she bats her eyelashes and twirls a bit before going back to her hunt. Yes I do, but I'm not telling her that. Well if I had the slightest amount of doubt that Layla is drunk, it's gone. I can't help myself and my eyes roam over her curvy figure. I notice she has black ink right under her shoulder blade and I get up to study the mysterious script. Layla got a tattoo? Since when? So this is what I saw at the train station. I try to read it, but I think it's in a different language.

"Miss Layla Ann Dawes," I say in a amusement, "what ever possessed you to get a tattoo?" She jumps (probably cause she wasn't expecting me to be this close) and then smiles over her bare shoulder.

"I got it over the summer in Paris."

"What does it say?" I ask, still examining it. Before I can stop myself, I trace my finger over the cursive writing. I can't be sure, but I think I hear her sigh contentedly. Probably all the booze gone to my head.

"Il n'est rien de réel que le rêve et l'amour." Layla says in some kind a foreign language. Oh, it's in French. Should have known, since she speaks French. When Layla she talks in French, it's like she's exotic and...sexy. Wait, what? What the hell? Definitely wasted. Definitely wasted. I try to compose myself.

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing is real but dreams and love." she clarifies for me. "My mom is always saying it and..." Lay keeps talking but I'm not quite paying attention. Instead, I'm focusing on how soft her skin is and I trail my finger down the curve of her hip, in somewhat of a trance.

"Harry?" Layla says my name like she's asking a question and I realize she sounds like she's a bit breathless. What in Merlin's name am I doing? I need to get myself out of this situation before I do anything that could be detrimental to our friendship. So I do the one thing that seems to make sense to me at the moment: tickle her. Layla immediately shrieks in laughter and I continue my torturous tazoring.

"HARRY STOP!" she yells between laughs. She suddenly drops to the floor, clutching her sides. I smile down at her, knowing that I'm in for it.

"You are so going to pay Potter!" Lay exclaims with an evil glint in her eye. She jumps up and lunges at me, but I manage to dodge her.

"Too slow." I taunt in a mocking voice. Her eyes narrow and I chuckle at her. I think this makes her even more determined. She lunges again and misses, but the third time she practically launches herself at me. We both fall and my bed is thankfully there to catch us. We're both laughing our asses off again and before I can even blink, Layla is straddling me and has a vice grip on my wrists.

"Pinned ya!" she cries triumphantly and I laugh at her kiddish rejoice. We just stare at each other, grinning like idiots and breathing hard. Layla's hair is all over the place and her face is flushed from laughing so hard. I study her features for a split second and I suddenly realize that we're both half-naked. Layla is still in only her underwear and I have my shirt off...and we are in an incredibly compromising position. I meet Lay's eyes again and it seems as if it's clicked with her too. She clears her throat and slowly releases my wrists.

"I need to pee." Layla announces quickly and scrambles off me, practically running to the bathroom. Well, words cannot even describe how awkward that was. Great. Now Lay is totally freaked out and I am too. I don't even know what the fuck motivated me to touch her at all! The Firewhiskey has weakened my self-control. Yeah, that sounds plausible. Plausible? Look at me, using big words. I'm a fucking genius. I'm definitely drunk. Drunk like a skunk. What? Shut up you prat, you're fucking shit-faced right now.

"Hey, I'm hungry." Layla walks in, breaking me away from my dumb ass conversation with myself. "I'm gonna go down to the kitchens and get a snack. Wanna come?" she asks as she pulls my Quidditch jersey over her head. It comes down mid-thigh on her and I have to force the thoughts that I know are about to invade my brain away.

"Nah, don't think I could make it down the stairs." I joke.

"That would be a sight to see." Lay pads barefoot towards the door and peers over her shoulder. "You sure you don't wanna come and make sure I don't get caught?"

I chuckle at her comment. "Just say you're doing routes. You're a prefect, after all."

"Oh, true." she gives me a small smile and walks out the door.

"Lay!" I call. She appears in the doorway again and has her eyebrows raised.

"Yeeesss?"

"You look sexy in my shirt."

"I know." she replies with a wink and disappears from view. That woman is something else. I suddenly realize that I need to cut it out with this attraction shit. Layla is my best friend. She's practically my little sister. We could never be...like that. That would be fucking weird. Whatever this...thing is, I need to ignore it. I need to make sure that I don't do anything that could hurt our friendship. I need to make sure I don't act on these feelings I'm having. Shouldn't be too hard, right? I settle back into my pillows and then something occurs to me. I have an erection. Maybe this will be harder than I thought.

Sorry this chapter is so short! It was previously longer, but I didn't know how to end the second bit, so I decided to give you guys a shortie. Otherwise, you'd have to wait longer and I didn't want that. I know how annoying it is when authors don't update and I'm trying my hardest not to do that to my readers. I'm not in love with chapter because I feel like it's a tad bit rushed (which it is far from). Therefore, please tell me what you think and review! Night! :)