i am exhausted but i want to provide an update on our two favorite teenagers. pls enjoy the flirtation, and of course, the sex too ;) also pls leave reviews and favorites, they give me joy :)

the broom closet next to the potions classroom

Professor Slughorn's lectures rival Professor Binns' for the most boring on the planet. They are also chaotic, as he always misplaces his notes, his piece of chalk for the board, and his thought process.

She's so lost in her doodling that when something hits her leg, she's startled. Neville shoots her a concerned look, but she waves him off. Ron is too busy drooling on his notes and Harry is way too fascinated with his special Potions book to notice or care. She glances down, and next to her foot is a tiny, folded piece of parchment. Rolling her eyes, she bends down to pick it up, covering the movement by scratching her ankle, and then sits up straight once more. She discreetly opens the note under the edge of her book and reads it quickly.

I'm so bored, I'm horny. Please send help.

Biting her lip to keep from smirking, she scratches out a response and sends the note back with a flick of her wand.

How eloquent of you.

The note flies across the room between the two of them without being noticed as most of their peers are asleep or so zoned out, nothing registers. It's back a second later with a new line.

Wondering if you're wearing that green thong?

She wants to laugh at his brazen curiosity, but keeps it under control. She looks over her shoulder and flashes a sly grin.

Why don't you find out for yourself?

After he reads her words, he looks at her hungrily, and his handwriting is horribly sloppy when the note comes back for the last time.

Broom closet. Down the hall.

She immediately throws her hand in the air and asks Professor Slughorn for permission to go to the restroom. He waves her away with a "yes, fine, whatever" and continues his lecture, if you can call it that, without missing a beat. She grins and hurries out of the classroom.

Just as he said, there is a door that leads to a medium-sized broom closet just down the hall from the classroom. She notes how dusty it is and the small amount of light that seeps through the door jam. It's not another minute before he wrenches the door open and slams it shut behind him. He quickly locks it and casts a silencing spell. In a flash he pins her to the wall and kisses her like he's a starving man. She can feel his already hard hard-on grind into her and she groans into his mouth.

"Probably only have …" she pants, "only five minutes before someone notices."

"They're slow," he murmurs, kissing down her neck. "I say ten minutes."

"Seven?" She suggests as a compromise, rocking her hips into his and practically climbing him.

"I can do seven," he agrees and hooks her legs around his waist, pressing into her harder. They make out furiously against the wall, humping each other to get as aroused as possible. They don't have much time and they have to make it good, leave each other wrecked. It's the only way to have a quickie.

She isn't wearing stockings today, thank god, so he pushes her knickers aside and thrusts a finger into her. She's wet and hot around him, and she groans as she grinds down on his hand, trying to relieve some of the pressure she feels. She clutches his shoulders, trying to stay upright, and not collapse on top of him. He adds another finger and twirls them inside her, and she yelps, humping his hand.

"God, please," she moans and he knows she's asking from him but he keeps torturing her with his fingers.

She whispers his name, eyes shut tight, rocking against him. She braces herself against him with one hand and makes quick work of his belt one-handed (she's getting better at it). Pushing her hand down the front of his pants and boxers, she takes a hold of him and strokes him from base to tip. His dick is leaking pre-come from the slit and she runs her thumb over it. He hisses and his hips jerk into her hand.

As a result, he thrusts his fingers into her exceptionally rougher. She throws her head back, reveling in his actions. She continues to jerk him off, and he continues to finger her against the wall. They pant, breathing each other's air, as they bring each other closer and closer to release.

"Hermione," he groans, his hips' movements haphazard against her hand. He just wants to come, and he's torn between entering her for the bliss of coming in her or just exploding in his pants.

"I know," she moans and she withdraws her hand. He follows her lead, removing his fingers from her and pulling her underwear down her legs. She pulls him out of his pants and guides him into her. They cannot muffle the noises they make as they join together and they push against each other quickly. Her back slams against the wall as he plows into her, and she tightens her hold on him with every thrust. He grunts, his head dropping onto her shoulder.

"Don't fake it," he begs, pistoning his hips into hers and stroking her clit with his fingers.

She shakes her head, "d-don't have to," and gasps, eyes squeezing shut. Her mouth drops open and her head falls back against the wall. His thrusts push her over the edge and she's falling, coming hard. She cries out his name, the sound bouncing off the walls of the broom closet. He follows her over the edge and pounds into her, shouting her name and a string of curse words.

They finally stop moving together and they pant, trying to get air back in their lungs. Her legs eventually fall from his waist, landing back on the ground. They're shaky, and she's not entirely sure she can actually walk. Her skirt falls back down and he tucks himself back into his pants.

"That was more like eight minutes," he mumbles, brushing her hair from her forehead. She laughs breathily and hugs him to her. He encircles his arms around her and presses his nose into her hair, mumbling, "You okay?"

She sighs and nods, but she does whisper, "We need to talk about this."

He grimaces, but understands, and suddenly he seems really nervous. "Yeah, we … we need to."

"I don't want to stop," she reassures him, and she notices his shoulders relax. This makes her relax. "But we need to actually … talk."

He continues to nod, understanding. "Not now, though."

"Oh no, definitely not now," she laughs. "We have to go back to class."

He groans and drops his head on her shoulder. "Wow, I don't want to."

"Hey, this was your idea," she points out. She looks around the floor and finds her knickers mingling with the dust. She picks them up, ready to put them back on, but realizes he's staring at her. Smirking, she puts them in his pants pocket. He gapes at her. "You'll enjoy them more than me," she whispers in his ear, kissing him quickly. The last thing she sees before leaving the broom closet is his absolute deer-in-the-motherfucking-headlights look, trying to understand what just happened.

She returns to class and sure enough, no one noticed. He returns a few moments later, looking much more disheveled than her and slumps down in his chair. She rips a piece of parchment from her doodles and writes a quick note to him.

Tonight, 8 PM, Astronomy Tower.

She looks over her shoulder and watches as he opens the note and nods once.

It's time for them to talk.