what's that? is that a glimmer of PLOT? wow I'm shocked.

ah, for the friend who asked about Draco and Hermione using concealment charms, yes I forgot those existed since like, I'm not a wizard, but now they will play a very prominent part.

the Room of Requirement

They don't have time to themselves for a few weeks. It actually kind of sucks, and he doesn't expect it suck so bad. He supposes it will make their reuniting more worthwhile. Separation makes the heart grow fonder, or some shit like that. Although his heart isn't supposed to be growing fonder. In fact, this is supposed to be just sex. He thinks.

They never laid out the rules of this little arrangement. He supposes they probably should, before either of them actually get hurt. In the past, he wouldn't have been so hesitant about hurting a Muggleborn. But within the last three months, he realizes that's not all she is. She's better than him, a fact that used to drive him crazy, but now he fully accepts it. She doesn't have the Dark Mark on her forearm, and she's actively fighting for the betterment of society.

So yeah, maybe they should lay out some rules.

One day, shortly after her birthday, where he knows she doesn't have any extra responsibilities and where he doesn't have to pretend to be working on his stupid task, he reaches out to her. He writes a note, telling her (not asking her) where to be at 7 o'clock, and then he charms the paper so it would appear to be a blank piece of parchment. Flicking his wand, the parchment turns into a bird and flies around the Great Hall before landing in front of her. Potter and Weasley haven't joined her for lunch yet, and he hopes she opens it and responds before she's pulled away yet again.

She glances at it and raises an eyebrow. She looks left, then right, and upon realizing no one else seems to have noticed the paper intruder, she picks it up. She carefully opens it and her brows draw together when she notices it's completely blank.

C'mon, put it together …

Her eyes flick up, and she scans the Slytherin Table and stops when she notices he's watching her. He tries to keep a straight face, but his lips twitch upwards, and he can tell she's figured it out.

She mouths revelio and his written words appear for her. She reads it, and then she bites her lip to hide the smile that blossoms on her face. She grabs her quill from her bag and twirls it between her fingers. She writes a quick response, reads it again, and he can tell from across the hall that her cheeks have turned pink.

The note-disguised-as-a-bird lands in front of him, so he's distracted and doesn't notice her leave. He quietly opens it and smirks at her two-word response.

Fuck yes.

He can hardly pay attention to his classes for the rest of the day. Her enthusiasm radiates off the folded bit of parchment that rests in his pocket, and he can see her excitement in her eyes as she interacted with her friends. When his last class ends, he quickly showers and tries to eat an early dinner. He's anxious, mostly anxious-excited, but it's enough anxiety to prevent him from eating much.

He's so early when he arrives at the tapestry across from the Room of Requirement. He tries to look nonchalant, but when he hears anyone, he stands up straight and looks in that direction expectantly. He probably freaks out several students before she rounds the corner.

She has changed into jeans and a jumper, so simple, but she wears it so well. He smiles at her, and he's surprised at how open he is. She must be too because her brows raise, but then she smiles back.

"Hey," she says quietly. He nods, his words getting stuck in his throat. "So, what are we asking for?"

He flashes a smirk and doesn't tell her. It's not like he's done this before, by this he means using the Room of Requirement for a rendezvous, but he did test for the perfect combination of words earlier in the week. He thinks about his desire three times, and then a small wooden door appears in the wall.

He pulls her in through the door the Room of Requirement has provided for them and she squeaks in surprise. The Room outdoes itself with every request, and this time is no exception. The low lighting provides the ambiance, and the candle light sets the mood. There's a bed against the wall, one that looks so fluffy they could sink right through it, and the sunset seeps through the windows.

"Well, this is a new purpose for the Room," she muses quietly, running her fingers along the bookshelves. Her eyebrows are drawn together, not in confusion, but as she takes everything in.

He has to admit, it's really nice. A lot nicer than a bathroom or a window ledge. It's … official. His hands start to sweat and he swallows.

"How many times do you think people have asked to use this place for sex?"

She laughs at his question and it breaks the tension he feels in his shoulders. He relaxes and pulls his jumper over his head. He cast a concealment charm on his mark less than half an hour ago, so he should be fine for some time. Nothing kills a mood like proving he's working for an evil wizard. She toes out of her shoes and leaves them by the door. The rug looks fuzzy and her feet sink into it a little as she walks over it and examines the fireplace. "I think the Room itself could have been used a lot in the past for sexual encounters, but I think this room is particularly for us."

"What makes you say that?"

She points to the mantle and he takes his own shoes off before approaching it. Engraved in the marble is a lion and snake, facing each other like they're dancing together.

"Ah. I see why."

Every other meeting the two of them had had only been sex. This actually included talking, and he wasn't sure if he knew how to do that without … putting his foot in his mouth.

"You're nervous," she teases and giggles.

She's right, why deny it? "A little," he admits sheepishly and shoves his hands in his pockets.

"Why? I thought this was, like, your thing."

"My thing?"

She blushes, and he realizes she's fallen for the rumours that Pansy loves to spread about him. "Sex."

"Ah, perhaps you shouldn't believe everything you hear, Granger," he grins and leans against the bookshelf.

"Oh, are you saying they're wrong about you being some sort of sex god?"

"I don't know, what do you think?"

She laughs, but it's high-pitched, and he can tell she doesn't want to admit he is, in fact, good as hell. "Well …"

"Do you need to be … persuaded?" His voice drops an octave as he takes a step closer to her and she shivers.

"I think you might end up with a big head," she murmurs in response.

He brushes the back of his finger across her cheek and leans in. Before kissing her, however, he says, "Oh, I'll end up with something big."

Her bravado cracks and she's shaking with laughter, and he thinks it's the most beautiful sound he's ever heard. It's also massively contagious, so he's chuckling along too. She's still grinning happily when her laughter dies down, and he takes the opportunity to kiss her.

She makes a delightful sound and presses her body against his. Their banter calmed him, made it seem a little more normal, even though nothing about this is normal. They still need to talk about it, but she doesn't seem concerned, so neither does he.

He wraps his arms around her waist and squeezes. She stands on her tippy-toes and he lifts her up. Her legs immediately wrap around him, and he gently presses her into the wall next to the fireplace. She smiles when they part for breath and then reclaims his lips. His tongue snakes into her mouth and he explores her mouth slowly.

Her hips rock against his stomach and her hands fist at his hair and shirt. She wants him to go faster, be rougher, but he's perfectly content just kissing her and holding her close. She doesn't get that message, so she starts unbuttoning his shirt and yanking it out from his pants.

He breaks the kiss and chuckles as he presses kisses against her jaw. She huffs indignantly but tilts her head back to accept the extra attention on her neck. His nose brushes against her throat and he breathes in her scent — clean and perfect, with a hint of something floral. He presses his lips to the side of her neck and kisses it softly before grazing his teeth over the skin. She gasps quietly, then moans as he bites and sucks a dark hickey onto her neck.

His arms are beginning to protest, and even though she's as light as a feather, he's ready to put her down. He carefully walks to the edge of the bed and lays her down gently. Her legs unwrap around him and she scoots up until she's centered on the bed. He climbs over her and pushes her sweater up, kissing the skin he reveals as he goes. Her arms raise above her head and he pulls it all the way off, admiring the blue bra that pushes up her breasts in a tantalizing way.

She finishes unbuttoning his shirt and pushes it off his shoulders. He holds his breath as his forearm is uncovered, and only lets it out when he sees the whole mark is still concealed. He returns to kissing her and nuzzling against her breasts. God, he's getting uncomfortable in his pants, but he's here to please her right now, not the other way around. She arches her back when his tongue dips into her belly button and he takes this as his door to getting her bra off. It's quickly removed and his mouth immediately covers one of her nipples. She whimpers and threads her fingers through his hair as he suckles, flicking his tongue over the nub.

He gives the same treatment to the other breast and unbuttons and unzips her jeans. The matching blue panties peak through the opening and he really is amazed at her new tricks. He pushes her jeans down and flings them over his shoulder. She giggles breathlessly and watches him with wide eyes as he drags his tongue from her nipple to the top of her underwear and under the seam.

The moan she lets out when he cups her through her panties is shameless, and loud, and he hasn't even touched her yet. He takes the fabric in his teeth and drags them down slowly, revealing her glistening pussy to him. He's so much harder now, and she tries to reach to undo his pants, but he waves her off. He skims his fingers up her legs and goosebumps break out and a shiver goes up her spine.

He licks his lips and uses his thumb to pet her and ease her open. He groans at how slick she is, how slick he made her, how fucking hot she is. He thrusts a finger into her at a slow rhythm, and she whines for more. He obliges, adding a second finger and placing his thumb on her clit to rub small circles around it. His pace is so slow and she's writhing on the bed, trying to get more friction.

"Faster, please," she begs quietly, bucking her hips against his hand. "Please," she repeats, and he thrusts his fingers into her deeper, up to the knuckle, and he wiggles the tips of his fingers. She shrieks at the sensation, her hips flying off the bed. She grabs the duvet and balls it up in her hands. His fingers fly in and out of her, and her chest heaves as she pants and moans as she gets closer to release.

He brings her so close to the edge, her walls begin to tighten around his fingers, but he withdraws his fingers and she whines in protest. He smirks as her hips undulate on their own and he covers her body with his own. He cups her face with the hand that wasn't just in her and kisses her ferociously. She responds in kind and grinds up against his him, leaving a wet spot on his pants. He groans and kisses down her neck, sucking on her collarbone. She reaches for his other hand and brings his fingers to her mouth, sucking her essence off of them.

Fuck that's hot.

She grins, and he realizes he said those words out loud. She strips him of his pants and boxers in an instant. His dick springs out and rests against her thigh, throbbing with need. She whimpers and shifts her hips so all it takes is a small little thrust and he's in her. All it takes.

He groans as he fully sheathes himself inside of her and she lets out a scream. He recoils then snaps back into her. Suddenly she's coming around him, yelling his name, and it's all he can do to not explode. She was so primed from his fingers that all it took was him entering her and she came.

He should be smug, but he seriously can't think of anything other than her tightly squeezing around him and how desperately he doesn't want this over so don't come, dumbass.

She takes a deep breath as the waves ebb away and looks up at him. Her eyes sparkle and she smiles a little, sheepish. "Sorry."

"It's okay," he whispers and kisses her. "You're going to come again."

It's a goddamn promise.

He hooks one of her legs over his shoulder and the other around his waist. She arches her back and moans at the angle, and he grabs one of the smaller pillows from the top of the bed and places it under the small of her back. She cries out as he pushes into her deeper and deeper like he's joining her as one. He doesn't want to overstimulate her, but he definitely wants to see her fall apart again.

He slowly pulls out and thrusts back in, groaning when one of her hands lands on his arse and digs her fingers into it. He maintains a steady pace and bites her breasts, building her orgasm back up.

She moans, rolling her hips against his and begging for more. He gives it to her, all of it, and he's slamming into her again and again. Their hips slap together and he can't keep it up any longer. He bites his lip in concentration before placing his fingers over her clit and rubs in quick circles.

She gasps, eyes going wide, and he's so glad because he's so gone. He's spurting into her and her legs tighten around him and then her pussy grips him so tightly, he shouts her name, his voice cracking. She doesn't make a noise, can't seem to, as her jaw is slack and her eyes roll back. He keeps sloppily pounding into her, drawing their orgasms out and barely breathing.

Eventually (he's not sure how long their orgasms go for), he collapses on top of her, head falling into the crook of her neck. Her pulse point beats furiously against his forehead. He's panting and he has yet to let go of her hips. She wraps her arms around his shoulders and she's making noise, but he honestly can't hear it, he's gone deaf.

After another minute or two, he can hear her whispering his name, and he picks his head up to look at her. She's got tears in her eyes and it alarms him.

"Are you okay?" He asks, his eyes going wide.

She blinks and a tear rolls down her cheek. "I'm okay, I've just never …"

He frowns, not understanding. She had two orgasms on the train? "Never what?"

She turns even more red, already having been red from the rush of her orgasm. "We … we came together. It was just … it was intense."

He blinks once, twice, then realizes what she said. He strokes her hips and nods slowly. "I've never … that's never happened for me."

She shakes her head and runs her fingers through his hair. "Me neither."

He brushes away the tear that fell and kisses her gently. She responds just as faintly. He needs to change the subject. "So, am I as good as they make me sound?"

She laughs lightly, but her smile gives her away. "Better, actually." He grins, victorious. She rests her head back against the bed, unbothered with moving. He doesn't mind — he's wrapped around her, arms and legs entwined. Her hand draws shapes on his back and he lazily rubs from her hip up her side and down her leg and back again. He doesn't particularly want to move away from her.

He sighs. He thinks he's found his new favorite place.

He's so fucked.