Chapter 29: Kisses and House-Elves (not necessarily related)

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters

A/N: Hehehe, sorry this was late again, school's been rough. But this is a longer chapter so I hope it's okay.

Anyways, have some Solangelo, motherfuckers (I mean this in the most loving and appreciative way possible)

December came, and it got cold. Obviously.

Unfortunately, Hagrid still had us outside and taking care of the Skrewts, which didn't seem to like me very much as I usually ended up with a number of cuts and bruises.

Apparently, he wasn't very well versed in these creatures and how to care for them either. When he told us he didn't know if they hibernated or not and had us all force them into these big boxes with fluffy pillows and blankets, they went on a rampage. Most of the class ran into his cabin to take refuge.

My face was decently cut, and I had to say that out of all the monsters I had fought, these ones seemed to be the most frustrating. Although, that might be more because I wasn't technically allowed to kill them.

"Well, well, well . . . this does look like fun."

Some lady, wearing a big magenta cloak with a furry collar, was leaning over Hagrid's garden fence. She was staring at us as Hagrid wrestled with the last Skrewt, trying his best to restrain it.

"Who're you?" Hagrid asked, finally wrapping some rope over the Skrewt.

"Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet reporter," she replied with a beaming smile.

"Thought Dumbledore said you weren' allowed inside the school anymore," he frowned.

She ignored him, still smiling brightly. "What are these fascinating creatures called?"

"Blast-Ended Skrewts."

I racked my brain, trying to remember where I'd heard her name from. I vaguely registered her interrogating Hagrid about the creatures and his teaching, as I thought about who she was.

The Daily Prophet was a newspaper, but what had she written, and why was she here?

"Who is she?" I asked Will quietly.

"I think she's the one who wrote the article about Harry."

My eyes widened as the memory of that terrible article resurfaced. "Oh yeah."

I zoned back into the conversation when I heard her ask Hagrid for an interview.

"That will not end well," Will said, frowning.

"Yeah I don't think she's a very good reporter."

We went to lunch and skipped our next class. Divination. As great as it would be to see the future, it was so incredibly boring I could fall asleep.

(A/N: haha, me and my insomnia could never)

The day went by relatively normally, but Hermione cornered us before we could go to dinner.

"You're interested in freeing the House Elves, right?"

"Uhh," Will and I shared a confused look, "yes."

"Great come with me, will you?"

Will, still sporting his confused face, said "Sure."

She brought us to a brightly lit corridor with many paintings of food and then said, "Wait here," and ran off.

I opened my mouth to ask why she'd brought us here, but she'd already left.

I turned to Will and asked, "Where are we?"

"How the hell should I know?" he shrugged. "I still get lost on my way to the bathroom."

I sighed, "So what now? Do we just wait until she gets back?"

"Well, yeah. She told us to wait… Or," he stepped closer, stopping just inches away, bringing his hand to my cheek, "we could entertain ourselves in the meantime." His eyes flickered from my eyes to my lips in a silent question.

"What if she comes back and catches us," I whispered under my breath.

If I'm being honest, I wasn't sure if I was actually trying to make an excuse or not.

His thumb was rubbing circles on my cheek, distracting me from any coherent thought I might have, and his bright blue eyes were half lidded, gazing at me with what felt like the most love I'd ever received.

He pressed his forehead to mine and I could feel his warm breath on my face as he said, "We'll hear her footsteps coming."

I tilted my head upwards and my eyes fluttered shut as I felt him press his lips to mine.

They were soft and warm, moving slowly. I brought one hand up to his chest and gripped his shirt tightly in my fist, stepping closer so our chests were pressed together.

It couldn't have been more than a couple minutes, but at that point, time was irrelevant. The roof could've come crashing down on our heads and I would've been content to stand there, Will's gentle hands cupping my face, my hand tangled in his hair and my other pressed to his chest.

I sighed into the kiss as he deepened it, slowly moving me backwards until my back was pressed against the wall. He trailed kisses down my jaw and to my neck, drawing an embarrassing noise from my mouth.

My eyes flew open and I slapped a hand over my mouth, face burning furiously.

Will pulled back and smiled, chuckling under his breath he whispered, "What was that?"

"Shut up."

He leaned back in and brushed his lips over mine. "Do it again," he said, before crashing our mouths together. Compared to our other kisses, this one was harder, more urgent and possessive.

Unfortunately, I made the noise again, and I could feel Will smirking into the kiss.

His hands drifted down and settled on my hips, gripping them tightly and, if possible, pulling me even closer.

Suddenly, we heard multiple sets of footsteps running closer to where we were, and Will jumped back, my lips chasing after his as they came apart.

I looked down panting, trying to hide my flushed face as Harry, Ron, and Hermione rounded the corner to the hallway we were standing in.

At times like these, I thank all the gods on Olympus that I decided to keep my hair long. It fell over my face covering my burning cheeks and most likely swollen lips.

Hermione looked between us, eyes darting back and forth, "Oh, I'm sorry," she said, acting entirely too innocent, "did we interrupt something?"

"Nope," Will said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, "Nothing at all."

Finally daring to look up, I saw her eyes narrow as she looked at me.

"Is that a hickey?"

My eyes widened and I brought a hand to the side of my neck Will had been attacking with his perfect lips. "What?" I could feel my face getting hotter, which at this point could be a record for the most blushing I'd ever done in my life.

"Yeah it is," Ron said nodding.

"We can come back later," Harry suggested as he pushed his glasses up.

The three of them wore innocent faces that definitely weren't fooling anyone.

"It's fine," Will said hurriedly, his ears turning red, "what are we doing here, anyways?"

Hermione walked closer to us and started, "Oh, well—"

"Wait a minute," Harry cut her off with a pained look on his face. "I know what this is about." He pointed at a painting behind her that showed a big silver fruit bowl.

"Hermione!" Ron complained, "You're trying to rope us into that spew stuff again!"

"No, no, I'm not! And it's not spew, Ron —"

"Changed the name, have you?" he frowned.

"What are we now, then, the House-Elf Liberation Front? I'm not barging into that kitchen and trying to make them stop work, I'm not doing it —"

"I'm not asking you to!" Hermione said impatiently. "I came down here just now, to talk to them all, and I found — oh come on, Harry, I want to show you!"

She grabbed Harry by the arm and pulled him over to the painting, before reaching her other hand out and tickling the huge green pear.

I would've thought she was benign ridiculous, if the pear hadn't started squirming and giggling, before turning into a large green door handle. She grabbed it and opened the door, pushing us all inside.

It was a kitchen. A really big kitchen. About the size of the Great Hall, with a bunch of little creatures walking around. My eyes widened and my hand reached for the hilt of my sword hidden at my side, when one of them threw itself at Harry in an embrace that seemed to have surprised him just as much as it had me.

I slowly let go of it when I saw that Harry seemed to recognise the thing hugging him and said, "Dobby?"

"It is Dobby, sir, it is!" The voice was high and squeaky, "Dobby has been hoping and hoping to see Harry Potter, sir, and Harry Potter has come to see him, sir!"

The creature — well — Dobby let go of him and stepped back. I got a good look at him. He was small, about three feet tall, and had big ears that reminded me of bat wings.

This must be a House-Elf.

Harry's eyes were wide as Dobby released him. "Dobby, what're you doing here?"

"Dobby has come to work at Hogwarts, sir! Professor Dumbledore gave Dobby and Winky jobs, sir!"

"Winky?" said Harry. "She's here too?"

"Yes, sir, yes!" Dobby grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him farther into the kitchen, the rest of us following suit.

There were four long wooden tables, each positioned like the ones in the Great Hall. I soon came to realize that we were in fact directly under it and the tables were all positioned in the exact same spots.

We walked farther until we reached a brick fireplace, where there was another house elf, who I assumed to be Winky.

Unlike Dobby, who had a lot of very clean clothing, Winky didn't seem to care about the state of their clothes. There were soup stains all down their blouse and a burn in their skirt.

"Hello, Winky," said Harry.

I was taken aback, when Winky started crying.

"Oh dear," said Hermione. "Winky, don't cry, please don't . . ."

Winky didn't stop crying, though, and Dobby was smiling very brightly. "Would Harry Potter like a cup of tea?"

"Er — yeah, okay," He replied.

There were immediately about six elves walking up to our group with trays full of food and drinks.

"Good service!" Ron said loudly, to which Hermione and I frowned at him.

"How long have you been here, Dobby?" Harry asked as the elves distributed our tea.

"Only a week, Harry Potter, sir! Dobby came to see Professor Dumbledore, sir. You see, sir, it is very difficult for a house-elf who has been dismissed to get a new position, sir, very difficult indeed —"

Winky started crying louder, but apparently Dobby had no trouble ignoring the wailing as he continued, still looking as happy as ever.

"Dobby has traveled the country for two whole years, sir, trying to find work! But Dobby hasn't found work, sir, because Dobby wants paying now!"

All the other house elves looked away as if they were embarrassed, or if he had said something bad.

"Good for you, Dobby!" Hermione said proudly.

"That's good," Will smiled.

"Thank you," Dobby said, then froze. "Who are you two?"

"Oh, I'm Will and this is Nico."

Dobby looked between the two of us, then said, "You're strange."

"Uh," I said, maybe he had caught onto the fact that we weren't actually wizards, "American?"

He frowned, "No, Dobby doesn't think so." He tapped his chin in thought, before shaking his head and continuing as if he hadn't just called us weird. "But most wizards doesn't want a house-elf who wants paying, miss. 'That's not the point of a house-elf,' they says, and they slammed the door in Dobby's face! Dobby likes work, but he wants to wear clothes and he wants to be paid, Harry Potter. . . . Dobby likes being free!"

The other house-elves had started slowly creeping away from us, except for Winky who only seemed to cry harder.

"And then Dobby had the idea, Harry Potter, sir! 'Why doesn't Dobby and Winky find work together?' Dobby says. 'Where is there enough work for two house-elves?' says Winky. And Dobby thinks, and it comes to him, sir! Hogwarts! So Dobby and Winky came to see Professor Dumbledore, sir, and Professor Dumbledore took us on! "And Professor Dumbledore says he will pay Dobby, sir, if Dobby wants paying! And so Dobby is a free elf, sir, and Dobby gets a Galleon a week and one day off a month!"

"That's not very much!" Hermione shouted indignantly.

"Yeah, I'm not very good with wizard money, but that doesn't seem like a lot," I said quietly.

"Professor Dumbledore offered Dobby ten Galleons a week, and weekends off, but Dobby beat him down, miss. . . . Dobby likes freedom, miss, but he isn't wanting too much, miss, he likes work better."

What the fuck, who likes working?

"And how much is Professor Dumbledore paying you, Winky?" Hermione asked kindly.

At this, WInky finally stopped crying, but now she was glaring at Hermione. "Winky is a disgraced elf, but Winky is not yet getting paid!" she squeaked. "Winky is not sunk so low as that! Winky is properly ashamed of being freed!"

"Ashamed?" said Hermione blankly. "But — Winky, come on! It's Mr. Crouch who should be ashamed, not you! You didn't do anything wrong, he was really horrible to you —"

As the conversation went on, I got more and more confused. These elves seemed to really like working, and had no trouble with their (clearly) abusive masters and how they were treated. They didn't care about getting paid or having breaks. What kind of crazy being would want to work for no money?

The three of them kept talking with the two elves, Winky insisting that Ludo Bagman was a bad wizard (not sure how they got to talking about him, but somehow they did), and Ron promising to give Dobby a sweater his mother had made for him.

As we left the kitchen, I looked around at the other elves. How could they possibly enjoy working all day and not getting paid?

"You know what?" Ron started once we had walked father away from the painting that lead to the kitchen, "All these years I've been really impressed with Fred and George, nicking food from the kitchens — well, it's not exactly difficult, is it? They can't wait to give it away!"

"I think this is the best thing that could have happened to those elves, you know," Hermione said, leading us all back to the Gryffindor common room, "Dobby coming to work here, I mean. The other elves will see how happy he is, being free, and slowly it'll dawn on them that they want that too!"

Harry and Ron didn't seem to agree with the way Hermione wanted the elves to be free. I couldn't understand how anyone would be okay with slavery. That's what it was, even if they couldn't see it.

...

Back in the common room, Will pulled me by the wrist back to our room.

He closed the door and pushed me against it, caging me with his arms on either side of my face.

"We were interrupted back there," he whispered, bringing his hand to the side of my burning face, "Mind if we continue?" His voice was low and his pupils were blown wide as he stared at me, waiting for me to give permission, and who was I to deny whatever it was this beautiful ray of sunshine wanted.

I closed my eyes and leaned forward, meeting his lips in a shy kiss which quickly went from soft to rough.

I buried my hands in his hair and moaned into his mouth as he pushed us as close as possible.

Yeah, I really like this.

A/N: I gotta say, I questioned my life's choices as I was writing their kiss.

I usually limit it to two sentences at most and never really describe more than "their lips met" but I thought I'd try writing a little more for you guys and see how that goes. (It was hard and I forgot how to put sentences together on multiple occasions).

Please tell me how I can improve this because I am aroace and have no idea how to write anything to do with romance, seeing as I've never experienced any of that stuff.

Seriously, help.

(Side note: How the fuck do people write spicy scenes? I could barely figure out how to write the sentence where they started kissing. Those writers are braver than the fucking marines goddamn)