A/N: Adult content. Lots of it.
Chapter Sixteen: Passion Runneth Over
Fred took a deep breath, but he was still dizzy.
"Are you sure?" he asked, taking her hands in his. Surely he had heard her wrong...
"I'm sure," she whispered, moving in close to him and kissing him again. He felt her tongue in his mouth, brushing against his, and he wrapped his arms round her, pressing her close and devouring her mouth as though she were oxygen.
"Lock the door," she whispered against his mouth, and he fumbled for his robes, which were still draped on his chair, found his wand, pulled it out, aimed it at the door, muttered the incantation, and sealed it shut. George and Lee and anybody else would have to make other sleeping arrangements, as far as Fred was concerned.
He steered Angelina to the bed, his mouth still on hers, his fingers working the belt of her robe. He slid the robe from her shoulders, then his hands moved to the ribbon tying her braids back, and he pulled it free, letting the braids cascade over her shoulders. She kicked off her slippers and fell onto the bed, pulling him with her, their mouths pressed hotly together.
She rolled over onto him, straddling him and kissing him and rubbing against him.
"God," he gasped, gripping her hips and arching his hips up against her, pressing his erection against her.
Her hands yanked his shirt from the waistband of his trousers, shoved it up along with his jumper and exposed his pale, smooth chest.
"Jesus, Angie," he groaned, as he felt her mouth and tongue assault his skin, tracing fire over his chest, his nipples, down to his navel. Her hands were on him, stroking him, driving him mad.
"Take them off," he begged. "God..."
She did. He felt her unbuckle his belt, slide it from the loops, throw it aside, felt her open the button, then pull down the zipper of his trousers, then slide them over his hips. He gasped with relief as the pressure on him vanished, then he felt her sliding his boxers down, down.
Then her mouth was on him, covering him with warm wetness, and he was moaning and arching his hips and tangling a hand in the ropes of hair that were her thousands of braids.
"Angie," he gasped. "God, yes..."
Her mouth worked him faster; he felt the pressure building, felt the sweet agony increase with every stroke of her lips and tongue.
"Wait," he gasped. He didn't want to come yet. Not yet. "Kiss me," he begged.
She lifted herself up onto him and kissed him slowly, decadently. He rolled her onto her back, then pulled himself up long enough to pull off his jumper, his tie, yank open his shirt (buttons went everywhere). He sank down onto her and began to open the buttons of her pajama top, his mouth traveling over her face and her lips.
He got her top open and his hands found her flesh, hot and supple. His hands captured her breasts, and his mouth moved hotly over her skin. He buried his face in the lush fullness of her breasts, his mouth moving over them, his tongue teasing her nipples. She was gasping and whimpering and her hands were in his hair, on his back. His hand moved between her legs and caressed her over her pajama bottoms; then his fingers moved beneath the pajama pants, into the damp curls covering her sex, and he was stroking the swollen folds of flesh, causing her to gasp harder and whimper louder and arch her hips higher. He slid two fingers in and out of her as his thumb worked the bundle of nerves.
"Fred," she gasped. "Please..."
He moved his mouth lower, to the smooth brown skin of her stomach. He gripped the elastic waist of her pajama bottoms and slid them down over her smooth, tawny legs, then tossed them aside.
"Wait..." she whispered.
"Shh," he murmured, as he settled himself between her legs. He ran his tongue lightly over the satin skin of her inner thighs.
"Oh," she gasped, and her legs opened of their own accord. Fred moved his mouth between her thighs and breathed in the heady, earthy scent of her sex before he dipped his tongue into her, brushing the small cluster of nerves.
She gasped again and Fred began to move his tongue against her.
Merlin, but he loved doing this. Feeling her softness against his tongue, tasting that incredible female taste. Angelina's taste. He slid two fingers in and out of her slowly, rhythmically as his mouth worked her.
He groaned in his throat and felt her arch up against him, moaning and gasping and saying his name over and over again in sweet little whispers. He moved his tongue faster, his fingers slid in and out of her harder, and when she came at last his name burst from her lips and she convulsed against him.
He kissed her inner thighs and pulled himself up over her. He kissed her slowly, letting her taste the remnants of herself on his tongue. She moaned again.
"I need you," she whispered.
"You'll get me," he said raggedly, smiling as he shifted and positioned himself between her thighs. He started to move toward her but stopped.
"I forgot," he said.
"What?" she gasped.
"Contraceptive Charm," he said. "I'll get my wand--"
"I did it," said Angelina. "I did it already...please..." She kissed his mouth again. He thought briefly about asking her just what she meant about having already done a Contraceptive Charm, but he felt the tip of him press against her sex.
All thought went out the window as he slowly entered her.
She gasped and cried out.
"Yes," he groaned. "God, Angie..." He thrust into her again.
"Oh," she moaned. "Fred, god..."
He put his hands on her hips and began to move in and out of her slowly, taking his time, trying like hell to savor every second, every sensation of being inside her. He forced himself to listen to every sound she made, to feel every movement. After those first initial cries, there was silence, but for their gasps and soft moans as he thrust into her, but for the creaking of the bed from the rhythm their bodies created.
Silence, Fred thought blissfully, as he began to move faster inside her, feeling the sweet, aching pressure build. Nothing to distract him for pure sensation. He opened his eyes and looked into hers; they were filled with tears and lust and love. This, then, was what it felt like to make love to someone. To make love to Angelina. Nothing in his life had ever been so exquisite.
He kissed her mouth and took her hands in his, holding them over her head; her hips bucked against him as they moved together. Fred lost himself in sensation, in feeling. He never wanted it to end, even as he felt the wave building. He shifted and released her hands and moved one hand between them to stroke the bundle of nerves between her folds of flesh. She gasped and closed her eyes and threw back her head as she came, making only the softest of moans against his lips.
He felt the muscles of her sex contract tightly round him and he knew he was lost. He thrust into her once more before he spilled into her, convulsing against her as her name escaped his lips in a whisper.
For a long time they didn't move. Fred couldn't move. He felt his weight sinking on to her, and wondered if he should move, if he should roll off her, but she was clinging to him, and he was so weak he was barely able to lift his head.
He did, anyway, and he looked down at Angelina. Her face was tear streaked, but she was smiling. He felt himself slip out of her and he settled himself more comfortably on her, propping himself up on his elbows.
"Wow," she whispered.
Fred struggled to control his ragged breathing.
"Good?" he whispered, smiling. He brushed her tears away with his thumbs.
"Very good," she said, running a hand through his hair. "I love you."
Fred closed his eyes, then opened them. "I love you," he said, brushing his lips across hers.
He rolled off her and onto his back on the bed, gathering her into his arms. They pulled the covers over them against the chill of the room. Fred cradled her in his arms and was absently stroking her hair when he remembered something.
"Angie," he said softly.
"Mmm?" she murmured, her head resting on his chest.
"You...you said you did a Contraceptive Charm, right?" said Fred.
"Of course," said Angelina.
"When?" he asked, because she had definitely NOT done one just before they'd made love. Hadn't she said...
"Angie," Fred said slowly. "You...you said you did the charm...already."
"I did," said Angelina. "Uh, before I showed up here."
"Before?" said Fred, and he understood, and he began to laugh. She lifted her head from his chest and looked at him sheepishly.
"So you did the charm before you even came up here," said Fred, "somehow just KNOWING you'd get me into bed?"
Her sheepish grin turned mischievous, and her hand traveled beneath the sheets. He groaned and laughed when he felt her fingers caressing him.
"I'd say that's the...thrust of it," said Angelina, tracing her tongue along his collarbone.
"You scheming little tart," Fred whispered, and he lifted her chin to kiss her slowly, his erection throbbing against the loving attentions of her hand.
"I can't help it if you're easy," she murmured, kissing him back.
"Guilty," he said, his voice going fluttery as her stroking intensified. "But...you do realize...I'll have to...mmm...punish you a bit?" His voice faded to a moan.
"I look forward to it," she whispered, climbing on top of him and straddling him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The morning sun made a thin slit of light through the velvet curtains. It hit Fred squarely in the face, and he turned over, his hand idly pulling the curtain shut.
He collided with something in his bed and opened his eyes. He blinked and tried to remember where he was. His eyes came into focus and he looked at what he'd collided with, and a smile broke out on his face.
Angelina was next to him, lying on her side with her back facing him. She was sleeping soundly, and quite obviously naked, by the way the covers were only half covering her. Her smooth back and luscious backside peeked out from beneath the sheets, and Fred remembered every moment of the night before.
He was smiling like a fool even as he draped his arm over her and pressed himself against her warm body, spooning her. Last night had easily been the best night of his life. It was as if he'd been waiting his whole life to be with the girl lying next to him.
He nuzzled her neck with his lips and breathed in the mingled scents on her: jasmine, spice, sex, sweat. She gave a soft moan and stirred, and he felt her round, ripe bottom brush against him. Good lord, he was already at attention.
Let the poor girl sleep, he thought, grinning. They'd been at it for quite a while last night. He was quite sure he'd be sore this morning from all the exercise, but no, instead he was hard and horny and quite ready to shag her all day.
She blinked and opened her eyes, then turned to him, looking up at him sleepily.
He kissed the tip of her nose.
"Hey," he murmured.
"Hi," she said, smiling.
"Sleep well?" he asked.
"Like the dead," she said, giggling. "I don't think I'll ever walk normally again."
"I know," said Fred, shaking his head sympathetically. "It's because I'm just so huge."
"Yeah, that must be it," she said, rolling her eyes. "Are you telling me you're in any condition to even stand up?"
"Oh, I'm standing up," he said, leaning on his elbow and brushing a braid out of her eyes. "Well, sort of."
"Ha ha," she said. "Horny bastard."
"Absolutely," he said, arching his eyebrows at her and kissing her lips. She kissed him softly for a moment, and when their lips parted they looked at each other for a long moment.
She turned onto her side again, and he spooned her once more. Her mood had changed; he could sense it. Something was weighing on her. He positioned himself carefully so that his erect member wasn't touching her skin and waited for her to speak.
"You're still leaving, aren't you," she said softly. It wasn't a question.
Fred closed his eyes. He'd forgotten all about that. He'd forgotten everything except being with her. He didn't want to think about it, but he owed her an answer.
"Yeah," he said.
She said nothing, but nodded. There was a silence that was too quiet for her to simply be thinking. He lifted himself up on his elbow and looked down at her face. She was staring at the velvet curtains opposite, and a tear fell from her right eye.
"Hey," he whispered, hugging her close and brushing the tear away. "Don't. Baby, please don't."
She sniffed. "I can't help it," she whispered. "I don't want you to go."
"I know," he said sadly, clinging to her. He didn't really want to leave, either, but the only way he'd stay is if he could stay in his room with her for the rest of term, making love with her and talking and not worrying about stupid school work or an evil Headmistress or a homicidal Dark Wizard who wanted to rule the world. But he knew that wasn't possible. He knew, even with her in his arms, that he just didn't belong here anymore.
"Angie," he said slowly.
"I know," she whispered. "I know you're not happy here anymore. I know...you don't belong here anymore. I do."
"Then you know why I have to leave," he said.
"I know why," she said. "I still hate it."
He said nothing. There was nothing he could say. She seemed to want to get everything off her chest, and he kept silent, let her take her time.
"I want you to be happy," she went on. "If you're not happy here...then..."
"It's only a few months, Angie," he said quickly. "A few months left of school and you'll be done and we'll be together again."
"I know," she whispered, closing her eyes.
"I'll write you every day," he said fervently.
"How?" she said. "Umbridge'll never let your letters through."
He'd forgotten about that, too. Umbridge and her Slytherin suck-ups, monitoring every scrap of parchment that went in or out of the school. Angelina was right; she'd never see so much as a single letter written from Fred.
"I'll think of something," he said firmly. "I'm Fred Weasley, remember? There's always a way round rules."
"I want you to be happy," she repeated.
"I will be," he said. "We will be. You and me, together."
She turned to him with sad, hopeful eyes. "Promise?"
"I promise," he said, and he kissed her lips again, softly and sweetly.
He pulled away and she smiled tearfully at him, then turned over once more, onto her side with her back to him, taking his hand in hers and holding it tightly in hers. They spooned once more.
"I'll miss you, you prat," she said, chuckling.
"I'll miss you, too," said Fred.
"I'll miss these hands," she said, a smile in her voice, and she kissed his fingertips lightly.
"My hands'll miss you, believe me," said Fred, kissing her neck.
She giggled. "Let's give them something to remember me by, then," she said huskily, and she pressed his hand firmly against her bare breast.
"Ooh," he said, grinning, and he traced her earlobe with his tongue, then nibbled the tender skin. "Very nice," he added, as his fingers teased her breast.
She sighed and pressed back against him, rubbing her bottom against his erection.
"My, my," she said, her voice throaty and sexy. "You're awake."
"I told you," said Fred, his mouth moving over her collarbone, her jaw, his hand sliding from her breast, over her belly, her hip, and over her bottom. "I'm perfectly capable of standing up."
Her legs were curled up in the fetal position. He caressed her bottom, then reached round and under and found her sex, already wet. He started to tease her there with his fingers. He moved closer to her; both of them still lying on their sides, her back to him.
"Fred..." she gasped, her hips moving against his hand, "we...have lessons...this morning..."
"Not for hours," he murmured, and he pressed his chest against her back and pulled moved his hand back to her hip, moved his aching erection closer to her sex. "Plenty of time."
He held her hip with his hand and slid into her, slowly, decadently.
"Merlin," he groaned. It was so good. So very, very good.
"But..." she gasped, "it's well...past dawn...we'll be late..."
He thrust into her harder. "We'd have...a very good reason..." Another thrust, and another. He increased his rhythm.
"Of course," Angelina said, a hitch in her voice, "we could always...just skive...off lessons."
Fred thrust into her again. "My...thoughts...exactly."
________________________________________________________________________
A/N: Well, not TOTAL smut anyway. Heh heh heh. But it's not over yet.
Chapter Sixteen: Passion Runneth Over
Fred took a deep breath, but he was still dizzy.
"Are you sure?" he asked, taking her hands in his. Surely he had heard her wrong...
"I'm sure," she whispered, moving in close to him and kissing him again. He felt her tongue in his mouth, brushing against his, and he wrapped his arms round her, pressing her close and devouring her mouth as though she were oxygen.
"Lock the door," she whispered against his mouth, and he fumbled for his robes, which were still draped on his chair, found his wand, pulled it out, aimed it at the door, muttered the incantation, and sealed it shut. George and Lee and anybody else would have to make other sleeping arrangements, as far as Fred was concerned.
He steered Angelina to the bed, his mouth still on hers, his fingers working the belt of her robe. He slid the robe from her shoulders, then his hands moved to the ribbon tying her braids back, and he pulled it free, letting the braids cascade over her shoulders. She kicked off her slippers and fell onto the bed, pulling him with her, their mouths pressed hotly together.
She rolled over onto him, straddling him and kissing him and rubbing against him.
"God," he gasped, gripping her hips and arching his hips up against her, pressing his erection against her.
Her hands yanked his shirt from the waistband of his trousers, shoved it up along with his jumper and exposed his pale, smooth chest.
"Jesus, Angie," he groaned, as he felt her mouth and tongue assault his skin, tracing fire over his chest, his nipples, down to his navel. Her hands were on him, stroking him, driving him mad.
"Take them off," he begged. "God..."
She did. He felt her unbuckle his belt, slide it from the loops, throw it aside, felt her open the button, then pull down the zipper of his trousers, then slide them over his hips. He gasped with relief as the pressure on him vanished, then he felt her sliding his boxers down, down.
Then her mouth was on him, covering him with warm wetness, and he was moaning and arching his hips and tangling a hand in the ropes of hair that were her thousands of braids.
"Angie," he gasped. "God, yes..."
Her mouth worked him faster; he felt the pressure building, felt the sweet agony increase with every stroke of her lips and tongue.
"Wait," he gasped. He didn't want to come yet. Not yet. "Kiss me," he begged.
She lifted herself up onto him and kissed him slowly, decadently. He rolled her onto her back, then pulled himself up long enough to pull off his jumper, his tie, yank open his shirt (buttons went everywhere). He sank down onto her and began to open the buttons of her pajama top, his mouth traveling over her face and her lips.
He got her top open and his hands found her flesh, hot and supple. His hands captured her breasts, and his mouth moved hotly over her skin. He buried his face in the lush fullness of her breasts, his mouth moving over them, his tongue teasing her nipples. She was gasping and whimpering and her hands were in his hair, on his back. His hand moved between her legs and caressed her over her pajama bottoms; then his fingers moved beneath the pajama pants, into the damp curls covering her sex, and he was stroking the swollen folds of flesh, causing her to gasp harder and whimper louder and arch her hips higher. He slid two fingers in and out of her as his thumb worked the bundle of nerves.
"Fred," she gasped. "Please..."
He moved his mouth lower, to the smooth brown skin of her stomach. He gripped the elastic waist of her pajama bottoms and slid them down over her smooth, tawny legs, then tossed them aside.
"Wait..." she whispered.
"Shh," he murmured, as he settled himself between her legs. He ran his tongue lightly over the satin skin of her inner thighs.
"Oh," she gasped, and her legs opened of their own accord. Fred moved his mouth between her thighs and breathed in the heady, earthy scent of her sex before he dipped his tongue into her, brushing the small cluster of nerves.
She gasped again and Fred began to move his tongue against her.
Merlin, but he loved doing this. Feeling her softness against his tongue, tasting that incredible female taste. Angelina's taste. He slid two fingers in and out of her slowly, rhythmically as his mouth worked her.
He groaned in his throat and felt her arch up against him, moaning and gasping and saying his name over and over again in sweet little whispers. He moved his tongue faster, his fingers slid in and out of her harder, and when she came at last his name burst from her lips and she convulsed against him.
He kissed her inner thighs and pulled himself up over her. He kissed her slowly, letting her taste the remnants of herself on his tongue. She moaned again.
"I need you," she whispered.
"You'll get me," he said raggedly, smiling as he shifted and positioned himself between her thighs. He started to move toward her but stopped.
"I forgot," he said.
"What?" she gasped.
"Contraceptive Charm," he said. "I'll get my wand--"
"I did it," said Angelina. "I did it already...please..." She kissed his mouth again. He thought briefly about asking her just what she meant about having already done a Contraceptive Charm, but he felt the tip of him press against her sex.
All thought went out the window as he slowly entered her.
She gasped and cried out.
"Yes," he groaned. "God, Angie..." He thrust into her again.
"Oh," she moaned. "Fred, god..."
He put his hands on her hips and began to move in and out of her slowly, taking his time, trying like hell to savor every second, every sensation of being inside her. He forced himself to listen to every sound she made, to feel every movement. After those first initial cries, there was silence, but for their gasps and soft moans as he thrust into her, but for the creaking of the bed from the rhythm their bodies created.
Silence, Fred thought blissfully, as he began to move faster inside her, feeling the sweet, aching pressure build. Nothing to distract him for pure sensation. He opened his eyes and looked into hers; they were filled with tears and lust and love. This, then, was what it felt like to make love to someone. To make love to Angelina. Nothing in his life had ever been so exquisite.
He kissed her mouth and took her hands in his, holding them over her head; her hips bucked against him as they moved together. Fred lost himself in sensation, in feeling. He never wanted it to end, even as he felt the wave building. He shifted and released her hands and moved one hand between them to stroke the bundle of nerves between her folds of flesh. She gasped and closed her eyes and threw back her head as she came, making only the softest of moans against his lips.
He felt the muscles of her sex contract tightly round him and he knew he was lost. He thrust into her once more before he spilled into her, convulsing against her as her name escaped his lips in a whisper.
For a long time they didn't move. Fred couldn't move. He felt his weight sinking on to her, and wondered if he should move, if he should roll off her, but she was clinging to him, and he was so weak he was barely able to lift his head.
He did, anyway, and he looked down at Angelina. Her face was tear streaked, but she was smiling. He felt himself slip out of her and he settled himself more comfortably on her, propping himself up on his elbows.
"Wow," she whispered.
Fred struggled to control his ragged breathing.
"Good?" he whispered, smiling. He brushed her tears away with his thumbs.
"Very good," she said, running a hand through his hair. "I love you."
Fred closed his eyes, then opened them. "I love you," he said, brushing his lips across hers.
He rolled off her and onto his back on the bed, gathering her into his arms. They pulled the covers over them against the chill of the room. Fred cradled her in his arms and was absently stroking her hair when he remembered something.
"Angie," he said softly.
"Mmm?" she murmured, her head resting on his chest.
"You...you said you did a Contraceptive Charm, right?" said Fred.
"Of course," said Angelina.
"When?" he asked, because she had definitely NOT done one just before they'd made love. Hadn't she said...
"Angie," Fred said slowly. "You...you said you did the charm...already."
"I did," said Angelina. "Uh, before I showed up here."
"Before?" said Fred, and he understood, and he began to laugh. She lifted her head from his chest and looked at him sheepishly.
"So you did the charm before you even came up here," said Fred, "somehow just KNOWING you'd get me into bed?"
Her sheepish grin turned mischievous, and her hand traveled beneath the sheets. He groaned and laughed when he felt her fingers caressing him.
"I'd say that's the...thrust of it," said Angelina, tracing her tongue along his collarbone.
"You scheming little tart," Fred whispered, and he lifted her chin to kiss her slowly, his erection throbbing against the loving attentions of her hand.
"I can't help it if you're easy," she murmured, kissing him back.
"Guilty," he said, his voice going fluttery as her stroking intensified. "But...you do realize...I'll have to...mmm...punish you a bit?" His voice faded to a moan.
"I look forward to it," she whispered, climbing on top of him and straddling him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The morning sun made a thin slit of light through the velvet curtains. It hit Fred squarely in the face, and he turned over, his hand idly pulling the curtain shut.
He collided with something in his bed and opened his eyes. He blinked and tried to remember where he was. His eyes came into focus and he looked at what he'd collided with, and a smile broke out on his face.
Angelina was next to him, lying on her side with her back facing him. She was sleeping soundly, and quite obviously naked, by the way the covers were only half covering her. Her smooth back and luscious backside peeked out from beneath the sheets, and Fred remembered every moment of the night before.
He was smiling like a fool even as he draped his arm over her and pressed himself against her warm body, spooning her. Last night had easily been the best night of his life. It was as if he'd been waiting his whole life to be with the girl lying next to him.
He nuzzled her neck with his lips and breathed in the mingled scents on her: jasmine, spice, sex, sweat. She gave a soft moan and stirred, and he felt her round, ripe bottom brush against him. Good lord, he was already at attention.
Let the poor girl sleep, he thought, grinning. They'd been at it for quite a while last night. He was quite sure he'd be sore this morning from all the exercise, but no, instead he was hard and horny and quite ready to shag her all day.
She blinked and opened her eyes, then turned to him, looking up at him sleepily.
He kissed the tip of her nose.
"Hey," he murmured.
"Hi," she said, smiling.
"Sleep well?" he asked.
"Like the dead," she said, giggling. "I don't think I'll ever walk normally again."
"I know," said Fred, shaking his head sympathetically. "It's because I'm just so huge."
"Yeah, that must be it," she said, rolling her eyes. "Are you telling me you're in any condition to even stand up?"
"Oh, I'm standing up," he said, leaning on his elbow and brushing a braid out of her eyes. "Well, sort of."
"Ha ha," she said. "Horny bastard."
"Absolutely," he said, arching his eyebrows at her and kissing her lips. She kissed him softly for a moment, and when their lips parted they looked at each other for a long moment.
She turned onto her side again, and he spooned her once more. Her mood had changed; he could sense it. Something was weighing on her. He positioned himself carefully so that his erect member wasn't touching her skin and waited for her to speak.
"You're still leaving, aren't you," she said softly. It wasn't a question.
Fred closed his eyes. He'd forgotten all about that. He'd forgotten everything except being with her. He didn't want to think about it, but he owed her an answer.
"Yeah," he said.
She said nothing, but nodded. There was a silence that was too quiet for her to simply be thinking. He lifted himself up on his elbow and looked down at her face. She was staring at the velvet curtains opposite, and a tear fell from her right eye.
"Hey," he whispered, hugging her close and brushing the tear away. "Don't. Baby, please don't."
She sniffed. "I can't help it," she whispered. "I don't want you to go."
"I know," he said sadly, clinging to her. He didn't really want to leave, either, but the only way he'd stay is if he could stay in his room with her for the rest of term, making love with her and talking and not worrying about stupid school work or an evil Headmistress or a homicidal Dark Wizard who wanted to rule the world. But he knew that wasn't possible. He knew, even with her in his arms, that he just didn't belong here anymore.
"Angie," he said slowly.
"I know," she whispered. "I know you're not happy here anymore. I know...you don't belong here anymore. I do."
"Then you know why I have to leave," he said.
"I know why," she said. "I still hate it."
He said nothing. There was nothing he could say. She seemed to want to get everything off her chest, and he kept silent, let her take her time.
"I want you to be happy," she went on. "If you're not happy here...then..."
"It's only a few months, Angie," he said quickly. "A few months left of school and you'll be done and we'll be together again."
"I know," she whispered, closing her eyes.
"I'll write you every day," he said fervently.
"How?" she said. "Umbridge'll never let your letters through."
He'd forgotten about that, too. Umbridge and her Slytherin suck-ups, monitoring every scrap of parchment that went in or out of the school. Angelina was right; she'd never see so much as a single letter written from Fred.
"I'll think of something," he said firmly. "I'm Fred Weasley, remember? There's always a way round rules."
"I want you to be happy," she repeated.
"I will be," he said. "We will be. You and me, together."
She turned to him with sad, hopeful eyes. "Promise?"
"I promise," he said, and he kissed her lips again, softly and sweetly.
He pulled away and she smiled tearfully at him, then turned over once more, onto her side with her back to him, taking his hand in hers and holding it tightly in hers. They spooned once more.
"I'll miss you, you prat," she said, chuckling.
"I'll miss you, too," said Fred.
"I'll miss these hands," she said, a smile in her voice, and she kissed his fingertips lightly.
"My hands'll miss you, believe me," said Fred, kissing her neck.
She giggled. "Let's give them something to remember me by, then," she said huskily, and she pressed his hand firmly against her bare breast.
"Ooh," he said, grinning, and he traced her earlobe with his tongue, then nibbled the tender skin. "Very nice," he added, as his fingers teased her breast.
She sighed and pressed back against him, rubbing her bottom against his erection.
"My, my," she said, her voice throaty and sexy. "You're awake."
"I told you," said Fred, his mouth moving over her collarbone, her jaw, his hand sliding from her breast, over her belly, her hip, and over her bottom. "I'm perfectly capable of standing up."
Her legs were curled up in the fetal position. He caressed her bottom, then reached round and under and found her sex, already wet. He started to tease her there with his fingers. He moved closer to her; both of them still lying on their sides, her back to him.
"Fred..." she gasped, her hips moving against his hand, "we...have lessons...this morning..."
"Not for hours," he murmured, and he pressed his chest against her back and pulled moved his hand back to her hip, moved his aching erection closer to her sex. "Plenty of time."
He held her hip with his hand and slid into her, slowly, decadently.
"Merlin," he groaned. It was so good. So very, very good.
"But..." she gasped, "it's well...past dawn...we'll be late..."
He thrust into her harder. "We'd have...a very good reason..." Another thrust, and another. He increased his rhythm.
"Of course," Angelina said, a hitch in her voice, "we could always...just skive...off lessons."
Fred thrust into her again. "My...thoughts...exactly."
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A/N: Well, not TOTAL smut anyway. Heh heh heh. But it's not over yet.