Okay it hasn't been another week but today Scorpius tracked me down during tonight's Runes Club and asked the room, a little bit out of breath, "Can I borrow Ro- I mean, Weasley? A Heads' thing just came up, McGonagall says it's urgent." I frown at him, today we were planning a field trip to an active excavation site, which promised to be very interesting, but I meet his eyes, and don't recall ever seeing him this serious. He looks almost… constipated?
Oh! He's acting. He's not a great actor. This isn't about work at all; it's almost certainly about sex. It's all I can do to suppress a visible shudder and I hurriedly throw my belongings into my satchel, making my excuses, and follow Scorpius out of the room.
We walk in silence for two hallways until the crowds of students start to thin out. We're also not going in the direction of our usual meeting room, or McGonagall's office, but rather toward a lesser-used wing of the castle, further confirming my suspicions.
"Scorpius," I say, angling my body toward him while we walk. "This has nothing to do with McGonagall at all, does it?"
When he meets my eyes, the answer is written all over his face.
"No," he breathes, and the way his eyes rake over my body makes me shiver.
"Then what is it?" I ask facetiously. "We were having an interesting meeting in there."
"You know what this is about, Rose," he grumps.
"I just want to hear you say it."
He tugs me into the nearest alcove behind a suit of armor and bends his head toward mine. My eyes involuntarily flutter shut, but his kiss does not come. A puff of air by my ear, this again.
"I couldn't wait another week." He takes my hand in his, guides our intertwined hands underneath his robes, to skate over the tent in his trousers. "I want you so much it hurts."
My mouth waters a little at this, as does the juncture of my legs.
I flatten my hand out, apply gentle pressure to his cock, his hips thrust involuntarily against my hand, once.
With my other hand, I tilt his face toward mine, brush a butterfly kiss across his mouth. He tries to deepen the kiss, but I push him away.
"Wait. Not here. Too public."
He pouts, but consents to straighten up, and reaches to adjust my robes from where they've gotten bunched up.
"Then where? Our common room?"
"Too far." Fortunately, when I realized his intentions, I tried to guide our walk to a place I know about thanks to the Marauder's Map. We didn't quite make it, but it's just on the other end of this hallway. "Follow me."
There's a tapestry of a pair of griffins, and they ruffle their feathers at us when we step into the alcove hidden behind them. It's not a huge space, but now that we're appropriately hidden, I'm finding that any space at all between me and Scorpius is too much.
His lips come crashing down on mine, and we snog messily while our hands fumble with robes (cast off to the ground), shirts (torn open), his belt (undone), his trousers (around his ankles), my skirt (flipped up around my waist), my bra (unclasped and pushed aside) but I stop him when he reaches for my panties.
We separate just enough so that I can pant, "Not yet."
"Okay. But this is good?"
"This is good. Skin is good."
We close the distance again, he embraces me to his body, I feel his erection pressed into my belly, he catches my gasp of delight in his mouth. We maneuver so that my back is flush with the wall, I twine my arms around his neck, he lifts me up so he does not have to bend over to kiss me. I wrap my legs around his waist and can feel his arousal, firm and warm, pressed against my sopping panty-clad core. He rolls his hips slowly, and what little friction this generates is delicious.
I wriggle my hips in encouragement, and his thrusts build in intensity. His pressure at my front and the wall at my back are holding me up, so his hands are free to skate over my body, rolling and tweaking my nipples, gripping my bum. He's kissing my mouth, my neck, I can feel my orgasm building, and when his fingers slide my panties aside to stroke my clit, it's enough to push me over the edge, I come with his name on my lips.
I'm catching my breath and I notice that Scorpius, ever considerate, has helped me come first, but his erection is still straining against his pants. I conjure a lumpy cushion (not my best work, but what can I say? I'm distracted) and tug him down to sit on the ground, where I straddle his hips, kiss his mouth, his neck, tweak his nipples, rake my fingernails down his chest and grind in his lap, until he comes with a shout of my name.
I slide off him and sit next to him, our bodies flush, and lean my head against his shoulder, while he gropes around for his wand. He casts a gentle cleaning charm, but before he can cast the contraception charm, I take his wrist and show him a new rune I've added to my bracelet.
"Contraceptive rune. More effective, always in place as long as I'm wearing the bracelet, we don't have to remember to cast a charm."
"Merlin, your brain is so sexy."