As they bolted down the corridor Renee couldn't help but think how lucky they had been. I never would have thought the Headmaster would be so cool! And a coffee drinker, where the hell did that come from? And thank god he really was amused by all my rambling, I just didn't want Harry to get most of the blame for MY coffee. Stupid addictions. I just hope we aren't late for Potions. I mean its easy, but the professor is a creepy, unclean, git. And- "Agghh!" She was so distracted by her thoughts as she was running, that as Harry dragged her around a corner she tripped over something. And that something had yowled. From her sprawled position on the ground Renee saw a bedraggled cat glaring at her from only a yard away. As she picked herself up, the cat hissed and ran off from where Harry and Renee had just come.

"What was the cat bloody doing in the middle of the corridor?" Renee demanded of no one in particular. "I mean its like it was just sitting there waiting to be trampled on," then eyeing Harry's bemused expression, "The damn creature was asking for it is all I'm saying."

"Well all that is warm and fuzzy but we have to go before Filch gets us, and trust me that will be worse than being late for Potions."

"Filch?"

"You remember him, grumpy looking, craggly old guy that was glaring at all the students the first night? That was his cat, Mrs. Norris," Harry replied trying to jog her memory.

"Oohhhhh, him," Renee said, comprehension spreading across her face. "Well we should be running then, since that's probably him yelling," She finished, looking over her shoulder. She had been right, someone had been yelling, obviously outraged. At that moment Mrs. Norris sprinted around the corner and hissed again making a beeline for Renee and Harry.

"Run!" Harry ordered her. She didn't need telling twice. She could hear footsteps behind them beating loudly on the stone floors. It wasn't half as loud as the sound of her own heart. Harry was fast, and so was she but only for short distances, she had always hated running the mile at school. Knowing she couldn't keep it up for long she started paying attention to where they were going, looking for some place to hide. They were on the lower levels, they had been in the dungeons before, but had gone up a floor or two in their flight. They ran into a wing that was completely deserted, calling Harry over she opened one of the class room doors and ran inside. The room was dusty and filled with old desks, tables, and chairs. It looked as if it hadn't been used in at least a year, and that its primary function was now to store old furniture.

Fuck! How are we going to hide in here, the room is filled with stuff, its not like we can make a fort out of rudding chairs! Then she saw it, a door in the back of the deserted classroom. She frantically ran over, making sure not to knock into any of the desks, behind her she heard Harry was not so careful. Yanking on the doorknob, did absolutely nothing, as the door was locked. A quick, "Alohamora" fixed that however. Pulling the door open she shoved Harry inside, then quickly followed him in squeezing herself into the remaining space.

"Lumos," Harry had just whispered lighting his wand.

"Put that out, if he comes in here he'll see the light," She hissed not wanting to get caught, especially after all that running. He put it out but not before she got a look at what was taking up all the space in the closet. Lots of cleaning products, several with danger and poison labels on them. Well that explains why the door was locked, she thought to herself

Harry was shifting uncomfortably, something was obviously poking him in the back. Knowing if he continued like this he would make far too much noise, Renee reached around him to move whatever it was. She felt him tense up and reflexively tilted her head down so that he wouldn't see her smile slightly to herself. She was far too shy when it came to boys. Damn teenage hormones. She felt what it was, a broom, possibly a mop, but more likely a broom. She had managed to grab hold of it and was midway through moving the object when she heard the door to the classroom open. Two things happened, Renee started in panic, almost dropping the broom, but catching it before it could clunk to the floor. Harry for some reason unknown to her slammed his hand over her mouth, and put an arm around her pulling her closer. Which was pretty damned close considering the confined space they were in.

Why did he put his hand over my mouth? What is it with guys assuming that girls are always going to scream, or squeal, or make some idiotic unnecessary-to-the-situation noise? I blame Hollywood and girly-girls. Presumptuous fucktard. And why did he pull me closer? Is proximity supposed to make this situation better? Although, it is kinda comfy. Shut up! You might get caught and you think Harry is comfy. Jesus, Renee, priorities! Hey, I can hear his heart beat, neat. Wow, its really loud. Stop it! Filch is about to find you and you wanna cuddle? Great, just great, I'm arguing with myself again. Never a good sign! Why is his hand still over my mouth! Right only one thing left to do...

Harry quickly pulled his hand away and wiped the spit from it onto his trousers. Her eyes had adjusted to the light by now, and she could see he was making gross-face at her. She just smiled right backHarry opened his mouth to say something when she heard a noise right by the door. She quicky put her hand on his mouth, listening avidly at the door. She looked back at Harry and seeing the look on his face, sheepishly removed her hand. Someone rattled the doorknob then grumbled, "Come on Mrs. Norris, the brats must have climbed out the window, come on, if we hurry we can still catch them out of class." The cat mewed and before long the sound of footsteps disappeared, and the sound of the outside door shutting was heard.


Potions had to be Sheya's least favorite class, which was a shame because it was her best subject. In their first week both Sheya and Renee had to take placement tests, to make sure they weren't ahead or behind in Hogwarts curriculum. Sheya was ahead a year in Potions, while Renee was ahead in Arithmancy. Dumbledore had spoken to the girls and the professors and it was decided that, the girls could take the higher level classes, but that they had to take the ones in their own year as well. Considering that this had never been allowed before, both girls had agreed to all the terms and conditions of the arrangement, however, neither were particularly excited about the extra work load.

Now sitting in her sixth year potion class crushing beetles next to Draco, Sheya was completely bored. "Why do I always have to crush the beetles? I hate crushing beetles, I wanna stir," She informed Draco who was ignoring her. She hated being ignored.

"Ouch! What is it with you and kicking me?" Draco demanded.

"You weren't paying attention, now move so I can stir,"she ordered taking out her wand, not giving him a chance to argue.

"You're a pain in the ass, did you know that?" He inquired lazily taking the pestle off the table, where she had abandoned it.

"And you're and arrogant bastard, besides I had to take over, you were doing it wrong."

"At least I don't order everyone around."

"Yes you do!"

"Well not the people I date."

"Yes, you do," she countered an exasperated grin on her face. Then continuing to stir the potion, which was now a vibrant orange with purple vapor fuming off, "I just ignore you."

"So it would seem," Said a deep drawling voice from behind her. She turned to see Professor Snape standing behind her, his face fixed in a permanent scowl. "Miss McKnight, as a rule I do not tolerate idle conversation in my classroom. However, you seem to have perfected the first stage of the Remembrance potion. I believe that would make you the youngest student in twenty years to have done so. Twenty points to Slytherin." He finished loud enough for the entire class to hear.

"Enough for today, label you're potions and put them in the back of the class. Mr. Longbottom in my office if you please." The class responded with the customary, I'm-almost-done groans, and Neville looked terrified, his hands were even shaking as he tipped some of his chartreuse potion into a vial.

"Thank god that's over," Sheya exclaimed bouncing out of the classroom.

"What do you mean?"

"Class! Done, finitus, over!"

"Finitus?"

"Latin, smart one, don't they teach you anything here?" She asked, teasing, and trying to change the subject.

"Why are you so excited class is over? You just won twenty points," Draco reminded her, not fooled for a second.

"The points are pointless, bad pun intended," she replied with a wave of her hand. Seeing his unamused expression she continued, "Besides, now we can go find a nice closet to fool around in. What?" Draco had stopped dead in is tracks, and was looking at her with an expression she couldn't quite read. A small smirk was playing in the right-hand corner of his mouth, his arms were folded across his chest, and his eyes. That was definitely the problem, she couldn't read his eyes.

"You know, most guys would jump at this opportunity, so I suggest that instead of just standing there, you drag me to a closet before I jump someone else"

"Really, and who else in this god forsaken school would you jump? Certainly not Crabbe."

"Of course not Crabbe! What? Are you on crack? I was totally thinking Goyle."

"Goyle," Draco repeated as a statement rather than a question.

"Goyle. I dunno, something about him. He seems like the strong and silent type," She said dreamily twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

"Silent at any rate," he replied looking a bit revolted. Shaya just gave a dramatic, dreamy sigh and continued playing with her hair.

"Right, come on," He said grabbing her hand.

"Where?"

"Where do you think? A bloody closet. If I have to hear anymore of this 'I wanna snog Goyle' crap, I'll be sick."

"Yay! Closet!" she squealed trotting after him.


"There was a window?"

"Yea, you didn't see it?" Harry whispered back, surprised that she had missed it.

"Well, I was too busy looking for a place to hide and- Why didn't you say there was a window?" She hissed.

"I was following you, you seemed to have a plan."

"You know, we could be outside enjoying the fresh air, instead of squished together in the cleaning-product-closet-of-doom."

"That had occurred to me."

"It had?"

"Possibly," Harry was starting to get nervous, he had no idea where she was going with this.

"When?"

Harry thought for a moment, remembering her reaching around for the broom, the smell of her hair, her body pressed against his, hoping desperately he wouldn't make a fool of himself. "When you got the broom."

"When I got the broom, " she repeated as a statement not a question. "When I got the broom?" She demanded angrily. Then without giving him a chance to respond she turned and tried to open the door. Tried.

"Its locked!"

"What?" Harry was starting to panic, he really didn't want to be stuck in a confined space when she was mad at him.

"Oh no, nonononono! It must lock from the outside. " She tried jiggling the handle, then 'Alohamora'. When neither proved useful, she shoved at the door, kicked it, spun around and slid down against it, so that she was sitting morosely on the floor. Harry had no idea what to do, they were obviously stuck in there, and she was obviously still livid.

"Its not so bad, is it?"

"Of course it is! Besides weren't you the one dying to get out!" she snapped back.

"I never said that, I said I realized we could be outside when you got the broom," he snapped back defensively.

"Right, because that just makes it so much better," Her sarcasm was beginning to grate on his nerves.

"Look," he said quite angry now, trying very hard to control his temper, " I didn't mean it as a bad thing. I was..I was..," he sputtered, words failing him.

"What, Harry! You were what?"

"Nervous!" he exploded.

"Really? " she asked intrigued, her anger suddenly melting away.

"Yea, I guess, its just, we were so close...and I didn't want to do anything idiotic. So that's when I thought of being outside."

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

"Did I really make you nervous?" she had the most adorable grin planted on her face, he couldn't resist smiling back.

"Yea," he said sheepishly, then, "You know I like you right?"

"Well I know now!" she laughed as she stood up. Then Harry did something he wasn't expecting, he kissed her.


"Are we there yet? We must've passed like twenty closets already. Or is it a 'special' closet?"

"Do you ever stop talking?"

"I will when we find a damn closet." Draco was tired of her whining. He never knew someone could complain so much, they had only been walking for five minutes. Besides he liked the closet they were looking for, it was cozy. Now if only he could recall where it was, Left at the beheaded bunnies tapestry, Right at the fairy tea time painting, down the corridor to the sixth door? Well it looks right at any rate.

"In here," he said, opening the door.

"Draco," Her voice had a patronizing tone to it.

"What now?"

"That's a classroom sweetie," she replied tilting her head, "And didn't I specifically state that I wanted a closet?"

"There's a closet in there, oh brilliant one," instead of glaring, which is what he was expecting, her eyes lit up and her mouth curved into a lopsided grin. Before he knew what was happening he was being dragged into the empty classroom, desks passing in a blur, it was a miracle he didn't run headlong into anything. In the short time he had known her, he had come to find she had a talent for snaking through people or obstacles at a quick speed.

"Damn its locked," She had dragged him over to the door in the corner of the room that he remembered so very well. To think it had been two years ago, almost to the day...

"Well don't just stand there pouting, do something about it," he said looking down at her. A much belated glare was now prevalent on her countenance, he folded his arms over his chest. She rolled her eyes, and did a very aggressive "Alohamora" before yanking open the closet door.

Draco was not at all prepared for what he saw next. Out of the closet tumbled two people, one very pretty girl with lots of long, curly, red hair and a rather slim, geeky looking, raven haired boy. They landed in a tangled mass on the stone floor, the girl swearing loudly, obviously in pain from the fall.

The boy, who happened to be on top, looked up, his eyes enormous with horror, apparently shocked to see Draco standing there.

"I uh...we...der...umph, " he sputtered quite at a loss for words.

Draco realized his own mouth was hanging open. He quickly shut it, only to open it again, "So Potter, finally manage to find a girl that doesn't mind you being on top?"

The girl beneath him, who had until now been watching the scene develop with an odd, amused expression, burst out laughing. Draco realized that Sheya had dissolved into a lump on the floor, shaking silently, her hands covering her face. Harry was looking down at the girl with an incredulous look plastered on his face. And there was Draco, last man standing.

"Well at last she has a sense of humor Potter, she's not crying at least."

"Shut up Malfoy." Harry warned in a dangerous tone.

"Why the hell would I be crying?" the girl's laughter had abated somewhat, but her eyes were huge and shining with amusement.

"Rumor has it the last girl he snogged bolted, and cried for a week," the girl looked back at Harry and started laughing again. Draco now recognized her from the train, sitting next to Harry, looking at Sheya with those same amused eyes.

"It's not funny!" Harry almost shouted, obviously not finding the conversation in the least bit hilarious.

"Yes, it is, " she managed to gurgle from the floor.

"Oh, and why is that?"

"Well, you do need some practice," she said with an apologetic glance, in a joking tone. It seemed Harry had not caught that, for he stood up and strode towards the door, "Harry, Harry wait," she called after him. But Harry didn't stop or even look back. When he reached the door he opened it and then slammed it behind him with such force that the stone room echoed for several seconds.

Of course it didn't help that the girl had yelled after him, "It was a joke you twat!" either.

In the relative silence that ensued, Draco heard a faint moaning, as if someone was in pain. Realizing who had been oddly absent from the general chaos he asked, "Sheya? Are you alright?"

She had lowered her hands from her eyes, which were now fixed on Renee. Her knees were drawn up and her arms were clasped tightly around them as she rocked herself gently back and forth, "My eyes...they burn." Suddenly her dazed look sharpened into a glare, "You stole and contaminated my closet you slut."

Renee, who had been busy giving the abused door a "WHAT THE BLOODY FUCK?" look, broke into a radiant smile and whipped around to face Sheya.

"If I stole it, doesn't that technically make it mine now?"

"How was it?"

"What? The making out?"

"No, you idiot, the closet."