Xenith
"To live is like love, all reason is against it, and all healthy instinct for it." ~~~Samuel Butler
Chapter Sixteen
A/N: This chapter takes place roughly a week and a half later, and yes, the Quidditch teams are still green and scarlet. Enjoy!!! *cough*review*cough*
Fred blinked back a pounding headache in the bright lights of the sterile Hospital Wing. Everything was blotchy and he couldn't discern the dark shape before him but he WAS acutely aware of the hand stroking his head---the fingers dancing their way through his hair.
As the figure came into greater prominance Fred recognized her. Chris hadn't seemed to have realized that he was awake though. She was staring intently at her fingers and the way the pink and brown of the scars there contrasted so highly with the current green and silver of his hair.
"Hmmm . . ." She mused aloud to herself. Fred watched as she bit her bottom lip in concentration. He'd never been watched so closely, that he knew of anyway, and he rather enjoyed it. Fred closed his eyes again as the girl's hand began to move away from his hair. He felt a finger trace slowly down the center of his forehead and over the bridge of his nose causing his freckles to tingle. The rough tip followed a path down and over the end of his nose to the upper portion of his lips. The finger paused only for a moment before sliding to the lower lip. Fred shuddered involuntarily as the touch followed the full of his bottom lip before slipping down over his chin. Her hand rubbed the back of his neck, his skin felt electrified. Having her touch him again made him remember the last time he'd kissed her.
Fred groaned and rolled a little, the pain in his head returning in full measure as the soft pressure on his lips ceased. The fingers on his neck immediately detached themselves. Fred blinked once again in the newfound light as Chris came back into sharp focus.
"Welcome back." She laughed quietly. Fred yawned in reply, stretching his aching limbs for the first time in what felt like years. "You were out for nearly half the week. Almost broke Mr Potter's record, you did."
"When did you get here?" He asked sitting up in the hospital bed.
"A few minuets ago." She glanced up at the clock hanging on the wall---it had been the better part of an hour.
"Oh."
"Mister Malfoy has been up for two days."
"Well I'm going to be hearing about that for the next century."
"Miss Johnson will be happy to hear you've recovered." She took a noticeable step backwards. "She's been in hysterics."
"Who? Angelina---what?" Fred had completely forgotten about his supposed girlfriend.
"Angelina's been---" She began to repeat.
"No. Never-mind. Just took a moment longer to process than usual." Fred rubbed his forehead. "I'm surprised she even noticed I was gone."
"What? Doesn't she care about you?"
//She's not the one here, now is she?// "Sometimes I wonder."
"Are you okay?" She stepped back to him.
"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just my head."
"Should I get Poppy?"
"Who?"
"Madame Pomfrey. Should I get her?"
"No!" Fred grabbed her hand, wanting to keep her there even more than the fact that he didn't want any more medication. (The Weasley twins weren't one's for doctors.) "No I'm fine. Really." He left his hand on top of hers. Chris' eyes darted nervously to his freckled hand but she didn't move.
"So, how have you liked my classes so far?" She finally asked.
The sentence brought Fred back to the reality that she was his substitute teacher. "Fine," He moved his hand from hers and swung his legs off the bed. "It's weird, when you teach it, dragons don't seem as terrifying as when Hagrid does." Fred stood, stretched completely, and began searching for his robes.
"They're in the drawer." Chris said automatically, indicating the bedside table. //So she's been here before has she?// Fred thought happily to himself while removing his school robes from the bureau.
Chris turned immediately as Fred started to change. "I should leave."
"No, wait for me. I'll be done in a second." Fred said, zipping up his grey trousers. He pulled on the white shirt, leaving the top buttons undone, pulled his vest over his head and left his Gryffindor tie undone around his neck before he finally put his worn black school robes over it all. He stood there, behind Chris, when he'd finished, studying the loose hairs beneath her ragged pony tail.
"Are you done yet Fred?"
"Yes." He breathed.
Startled at the closeness of his voice, she spun on the spot, they were now nearly nose-to-nose (Fred wasn't one of the tallest of the Weasley men). Chris was breathing heavily and looking more nervous than Fred had ever seen her. His eyes darted from hers to her lips and his body made up its mind before his brain even had a chance to process what was happening.
He was kissing her. One hand holding her at her waist while the other had managed behind her head. She didn't resist but rather wound her arms around his back. He pressed her against his chest, hanging onto her for dear life, as he hesitantly parted her lips with his tongue. She opened easily with encouraging little thrumming purrs at the back of her throat.
When they finally pulled away, gasping for air, Fred was instantly grateful for the curtains shielding the hospital bed.
"That was wrong." Chris muttered, more to herself than Fred. She dodged out of Fred's embrace and the curtains and made for the Hospital Wing's exit before Fred could stop her.
"No! Wait!" Fred ran after her, trying to pull the worn trainers he'd forgotten earlier onto his feet. He managed to catch her outside the doorway. "Chris, what's wrong?"
"We can't keep doing this Fred." She pulled away from him again and ducked under the nearest tapestry.
"Was it the kiss?" He followed her through the tapestry.
"Let's not talk about it." She jumped the steps three at a time.
"Was it me?" He paused halfway down the staircase. Chris turned and looked up to him.
"I have to go." And she disappeared though a turned stone into another passage.
"Bullocks." Fred muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets as he made his way up to Gryffindor tower.
---
"`Lo Fred." George greeted his brother without looking up from the History of Magic homework he was copying from Lee.
"What's wrong mate?" Lee asked Fred, bouncing onto his four-poster on his stomach.
"Huh?" George looked up from his work. "Wait, why are you here? Pomfrey said you weren't going to be up for another two days."
"Yeah, well, I just had fairly a pleasant awakening." He fell back onto his bed, lying spread-eagled with his feet propped up on the headboard and his head hanging off the end.
"By who?" George pushed his plagiarised homework aside and ran his hand, still green from before the Quidditch match, through his short emerald spikes. "I thought Angelina was---"
"Wasn't Angelina." Fred moaned, closing his eyes and massaging his temples with the heels of his hands.
"You didn't?"
"I did."
"Did what?" Lee propped himself up on his elbows.
"How could you Fred?"
"I don't know? Hormones?"
"You can't Fred, you know what she is!"
"She's incredible." Fred let his arms drop and opened his eyes to find his brother, upside-down, and perched on the edge of the homework strewn table.
"You can't do this to Angelina."
"Stop." Lee jumped off his bed and towered over Fred. "What'd you do."
"I think you mean 'who'."
"Shudd-up George. It just happened."
"You just fell on top of her, right?"
"It wasn't like that!" Fred swung his legs over his head and flipped off his bed, glaring down at his seated brother. "Just a bit of snogging! That's all!"
"Oh, sorry." He held his hands up defensively. "So you just fell on her lips then?"
"You have TWO girls pining after you?" Lee interrupted, pointing angrily at Fred
"Neither is _pining_ . . ."
"She can't keep her hands off him, and vice-versa." George muttered.
"Which?" Lee asked.
"Chris Jameson."
"Professor Jameson?!"
"Way to keep your mouth shut George." He sunk back into his bed and threw a pillow at his brother."
"You're serious?" Lee sat back down, eyes wide.
"Yeah," Fred sighed, raking his fingers through hair. "She's incredible."
"You've never said anything like that about Angelina." George said softly.
"I know."
---
¸..· ´¨¨)) -:¦:-
¸.·´ ·´¨¨))
((¸¸.·´ ..·´ -:¦:- tbc -:¦:-
-:¦:- ((¸¸.·´*
"To live is like love, all reason is against it, and all healthy instinct for it." ~~~Samuel Butler
Chapter Sixteen
A/N: This chapter takes place roughly a week and a half later, and yes, the Quidditch teams are still green and scarlet. Enjoy!!! *cough*review*cough*
Fred blinked back a pounding headache in the bright lights of the sterile Hospital Wing. Everything was blotchy and he couldn't discern the dark shape before him but he WAS acutely aware of the hand stroking his head---the fingers dancing their way through his hair.
As the figure came into greater prominance Fred recognized her. Chris hadn't seemed to have realized that he was awake though. She was staring intently at her fingers and the way the pink and brown of the scars there contrasted so highly with the current green and silver of his hair.
"Hmmm . . ." She mused aloud to herself. Fred watched as she bit her bottom lip in concentration. He'd never been watched so closely, that he knew of anyway, and he rather enjoyed it. Fred closed his eyes again as the girl's hand began to move away from his hair. He felt a finger trace slowly down the center of his forehead and over the bridge of his nose causing his freckles to tingle. The rough tip followed a path down and over the end of his nose to the upper portion of his lips. The finger paused only for a moment before sliding to the lower lip. Fred shuddered involuntarily as the touch followed the full of his bottom lip before slipping down over his chin. Her hand rubbed the back of his neck, his skin felt electrified. Having her touch him again made him remember the last time he'd kissed her.
Fred groaned and rolled a little, the pain in his head returning in full measure as the soft pressure on his lips ceased. The fingers on his neck immediately detached themselves. Fred blinked once again in the newfound light as Chris came back into sharp focus.
"Welcome back." She laughed quietly. Fred yawned in reply, stretching his aching limbs for the first time in what felt like years. "You were out for nearly half the week. Almost broke Mr Potter's record, you did."
"When did you get here?" He asked sitting up in the hospital bed.
"A few minuets ago." She glanced up at the clock hanging on the wall---it had been the better part of an hour.
"Oh."
"Mister Malfoy has been up for two days."
"Well I'm going to be hearing about that for the next century."
"Miss Johnson will be happy to hear you've recovered." She took a noticeable step backwards. "She's been in hysterics."
"Who? Angelina---what?" Fred had completely forgotten about his supposed girlfriend.
"Angelina's been---" She began to repeat.
"No. Never-mind. Just took a moment longer to process than usual." Fred rubbed his forehead. "I'm surprised she even noticed I was gone."
"What? Doesn't she care about you?"
//She's not the one here, now is she?// "Sometimes I wonder."
"Are you okay?" She stepped back to him.
"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just my head."
"Should I get Poppy?"
"Who?"
"Madame Pomfrey. Should I get her?"
"No!" Fred grabbed her hand, wanting to keep her there even more than the fact that he didn't want any more medication. (The Weasley twins weren't one's for doctors.) "No I'm fine. Really." He left his hand on top of hers. Chris' eyes darted nervously to his freckled hand but she didn't move.
"So, how have you liked my classes so far?" She finally asked.
The sentence brought Fred back to the reality that she was his substitute teacher. "Fine," He moved his hand from hers and swung his legs off the bed. "It's weird, when you teach it, dragons don't seem as terrifying as when Hagrid does." Fred stood, stretched completely, and began searching for his robes.
"They're in the drawer." Chris said automatically, indicating the bedside table. //So she's been here before has she?// Fred thought happily to himself while removing his school robes from the bureau.
Chris turned immediately as Fred started to change. "I should leave."
"No, wait for me. I'll be done in a second." Fred said, zipping up his grey trousers. He pulled on the white shirt, leaving the top buttons undone, pulled his vest over his head and left his Gryffindor tie undone around his neck before he finally put his worn black school robes over it all. He stood there, behind Chris, when he'd finished, studying the loose hairs beneath her ragged pony tail.
"Are you done yet Fred?"
"Yes." He breathed.
Startled at the closeness of his voice, she spun on the spot, they were now nearly nose-to-nose (Fred wasn't one of the tallest of the Weasley men). Chris was breathing heavily and looking more nervous than Fred had ever seen her. His eyes darted from hers to her lips and his body made up its mind before his brain even had a chance to process what was happening.
He was kissing her. One hand holding her at her waist while the other had managed behind her head. She didn't resist but rather wound her arms around his back. He pressed her against his chest, hanging onto her for dear life, as he hesitantly parted her lips with his tongue. She opened easily with encouraging little thrumming purrs at the back of her throat.
When they finally pulled away, gasping for air, Fred was instantly grateful for the curtains shielding the hospital bed.
"That was wrong." Chris muttered, more to herself than Fred. She dodged out of Fred's embrace and the curtains and made for the Hospital Wing's exit before Fred could stop her.
"No! Wait!" Fred ran after her, trying to pull the worn trainers he'd forgotten earlier onto his feet. He managed to catch her outside the doorway. "Chris, what's wrong?"
"We can't keep doing this Fred." She pulled away from him again and ducked under the nearest tapestry.
"Was it the kiss?" He followed her through the tapestry.
"Let's not talk about it." She jumped the steps three at a time.
"Was it me?" He paused halfway down the staircase. Chris turned and looked up to him.
"I have to go." And she disappeared though a turned stone into another passage.
"Bullocks." Fred muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets as he made his way up to Gryffindor tower.
---
"`Lo Fred." George greeted his brother without looking up from the History of Magic homework he was copying from Lee.
"What's wrong mate?" Lee asked Fred, bouncing onto his four-poster on his stomach.
"Huh?" George looked up from his work. "Wait, why are you here? Pomfrey said you weren't going to be up for another two days."
"Yeah, well, I just had fairly a pleasant awakening." He fell back onto his bed, lying spread-eagled with his feet propped up on the headboard and his head hanging off the end.
"By who?" George pushed his plagiarised homework aside and ran his hand, still green from before the Quidditch match, through his short emerald spikes. "I thought Angelina was---"
"Wasn't Angelina." Fred moaned, closing his eyes and massaging his temples with the heels of his hands.
"You didn't?"
"I did."
"Did what?" Lee propped himself up on his elbows.
"How could you Fred?"
"I don't know? Hormones?"
"You can't Fred, you know what she is!"
"She's incredible." Fred let his arms drop and opened his eyes to find his brother, upside-down, and perched on the edge of the homework strewn table.
"You can't do this to Angelina."
"Stop." Lee jumped off his bed and towered over Fred. "What'd you do."
"I think you mean 'who'."
"Shudd-up George. It just happened."
"You just fell on top of her, right?"
"It wasn't like that!" Fred swung his legs over his head and flipped off his bed, glaring down at his seated brother. "Just a bit of snogging! That's all!"
"Oh, sorry." He held his hands up defensively. "So you just fell on her lips then?"
"You have TWO girls pining after you?" Lee interrupted, pointing angrily at Fred
"Neither is _pining_ . . ."
"She can't keep her hands off him, and vice-versa." George muttered.
"Which?" Lee asked.
"Chris Jameson."
"Professor Jameson?!"
"Way to keep your mouth shut George." He sunk back into his bed and threw a pillow at his brother."
"You're serious?" Lee sat back down, eyes wide.
"Yeah," Fred sighed, raking his fingers through hair. "She's incredible."
"You've never said anything like that about Angelina." George said softly.
"I know."
---
¸..· ´¨¨)) -:¦:-
¸.·´ ·´¨¨))
((¸¸.·´ ..·´ -:¦:- tbc -:¦:-
-:¦:- ((¸¸.·´*