This one's pretty much all fluff, but enjoy :)

41. Exploring

She decided not to tell anyone about Umbridge and her "fascinating little object" - especially Neville. It would only upset him and there was nothing anybody could do about it. However, Harry came up to her the next day and said, "I heard you had detention with Umbridge."

"Yes, I did," she replied. "Hell of a woman she is. But no match for Snape, of course."

Harry's eyes dropped very briefly to Callie's right hand. "What did she have you do?" he asked.

"Write lines," Callie said. The two of them didn't take their eyes of each other's, and Callie knew the woman had tried to use her special quill on him too. After a moment, Harry raised his right hand. Callie's mouth dropped open as she noted a very faint scar that spelled out, I must not tell lies.

"Bloody hell!" she exclaimed. "You actually did it?"

He gave her a quizzical look and said, "I didn't know I had a choice. You didn't?"

"No! Soon as I knew what was happening, I got the hell out of there."

He still looked puzzled. "How?"

Callie hesitated. "Well, I... I sort of threatened her."

"You threatened her?"

"Yes," Callie said, unable to suppress a slight smirk. "With a little bit of signature Slytherin Dark Magic."

Harry gaped at her, but his mouth turned up in a small grin.

"Then I licked the blood off my arm," she added. "Wanted her to think I was a little bit... nutty."

He chuckled, and replied, "Knowing you, that couldn't have been too hard to pull off." He paused, considering her. And then he got a rather serious look on his face and said, "I always trusted you." She continued to hold his gaze for a moment, and somehow, she knew he was telling her the truth. She smiled at him, and he returned the gesture, holding out his hand. "Comrade?" he said.

She shook it, gave him a nod and replied, "General." As they chuckled, she leaned in to kiss his cheek and said, "Please don't go trying to get yourself killed this year."

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They only had two weeks left until the O.W.L.s, and all anybody had time for was studying. But Callie and Neville had insisted on taking one day to relax and take their minds off exams, and they were currently walking hand-in-hand through the grounds. "Careful," she said, "we're getting close to the Whomping Willow."

He turned to her and grinned. "Five galleons says I can walk right underneath it and not get hit," he said.

She cocked a brow at him. "You've got a cute face, Neville, let us not do anything to fuck it up."

He chuckled, and then came to a halt, facing her. "Forget the galleons," he said, and pointed towards the tree. "If I can do it, I get a kiss. If I can't, then I never get to kiss you again."

"But who will I get to kiss?" she asked.

He thought about it, shrugged and said, "Corner's single again." Callie scoffed and shook her head. "So," Neville asked, "you in?"

"You're going to stand under the Whomping Willow and not get hit," she confirmed.

"Right."

She looked from the tree to him and held out her hand. "Deal."

They shook on it, and then Neville approached the tree. Can't wait to see this, Callie thought. He picked a very long branch up off the ground, and carefully moved closer. To Callie's surprise, he poked the trunk of the willow with the branch, and it didn't come alive as it normally would have. He then tossed the branch aside, held out his arms and said, "Pay up."

"Wha-" Callie stammered, befuddled. "What happened?"

"Nothing," he replied. Checking himself over, he asked, "See any bruises?"

"What did you do?"

He waved her over. She took a step, paused to look skeptically up at the tree, and then slowly joined him.

"It's not going to come alive," he assured her. "Not for the moment."

"Can't keep a hold of Trevor, but you can tame the bloody Whomping Willow?"

He grinned. "I've always been good with plants," he said. "Seriously, though, the trick is to touch this here knot in the trunk." He indicated said knot. "It paralyzes it."

"I'll be damned," Callie said, checking it out. "How'd you know to do that?"

"Hermione told me."

"Hmph. That girl really does know everything."

"That's not all," he said. "Look here." In the roots was a hole big enough for a human to fit through. Nodding to it, he asked, "Care to find out where it leads?"

"It leads somewhere? It's not just-" she shrugged "-a hole?"

"Is anything what it seems in this place?" he asked.

Callie looked from him to the hole, and back to him. "Are you planning to bury me in there?" she asked, her brow raised.

He chuckled. "Maybe. Depends on if I ever get that kiss."

She eyed him for a moment before stepping up and pulling him close. Their mouths met and she ran her tongue along his bottom lip, her cue for him to open up and give her access. When he did so, however, she bit him.

"Jesus!" he said, pulling away and rubbing the spot where she'd nipped him.

"That's what you get for tricking me," she said, giving him a playful little shove and winking devilishly.

"Wicked lass," he mumbled. Indicating the hole in the roots, he said, "Ladies first."

Pointing her wand at him, she said, "You're a dead man if I end up running into a mountain troll or something."

"No trolls," he assured her. "Possibly a fanged geranium, though."

She gave him a look before heading in. Sure enough, a long tunnel ran from the base of the willow to... wherever it was they were going. "Can't I get a hint?" she asked after a couple minutes of walking.

"No," he said. "It'll spoil the surprise."

"I hate you," she said, pretending to be miffed.

"I hate you too. I always have."

Callie could see a spot of light at the end of the tunnel. It grew as they got closer, and eventually they came to another hole and stepped through it. She looked around at what appeared to be an old abandoned house, and thought that she had never seen any place so dirty and decrepit; peeling wallpaper, broken furniture, boarded up windows and doors. "Lovely," she commented with sarcasm. "Almost as nice as the Hog's Head."

"Know what this place is?" Neville asked.

"Pretty sure it's the waiting room for Hell."

"Close. There may be a few spirits roaming around."

"Where are we?"

He stepped into the center of the room and spread his arms wide. "We're standing," he said, "in what they call the most severely haunted place in Britain - the Shrieking Shack."

"The-" Callie began, and looked around the room with her jaw dropping open. "No!" she breathed.

"Yep. Figured this was more your style than Madam Puddifoot's."

She smiled at him. God, he knows me so well.

"You're an oddity, Warbeck," he said, returning a grin.

She came towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "And you really are a Gryffindor," she said. "'Most haunted place in Britain?' What happened to the boy who was afraid of his own shadow?"

"No ghost is as terrifying as you are sometimes," he said. Then he licked his bottom lip and added, "I think you drew blood."

"You know I've got a thing for vampires," she reminded.

He bent down to put his mouth at her neck. After sucking at it for a moment, he gave her a small bite. God damn! she thought. I love this side of him!

"Neville?" she called out after a moment.

"Hmm?" he breathed, not taking his lips from her neck.

"Let's explore."

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As if it were a sign from God, an actual bed was in one of the rooms on the second floor. Not a particularly nice or clean one, but all the same, it provided a more comfortable place to lie down than on the floor. And both of them were just grateful to finally have a place to be alone - save for the ghosts.

"Think they're watching us?" Callie joked between kisses.

"Let 'em, I don't care."

Thinking back to the amorous couples in Madam Puddifoot's, she said, "Guess there is something to be said for having an audience. Kinda thrilling." She winked.

"You really are wicked," he said.

She pushed him on his back and got on top of him. He brought his hands behind her back, slipping them up under the hem of her blouse. Soon enough, she could feel him moving farther down towards her arse, but pausing just before he got there, as though he were afraid that would be inappropriate. Pulling away from him, she took his hands in her own and placed them where they were itching to go. "That's allowed, ya know," she said. "Encouraged, even."

Blushing, he replied, "Still not that confident, I guess."

"What are you afraid of?" she asked.

He thought about it, and said, "Doing something you don't like."

She held back a grin, unsure if he was being innocent or gentlemanly. At the moment, however, she didn't want him to be either. "You think I don't like you touching me?" she asked.

"I-" he began, but he looked so unsure of himself.

Better help him out, she thought. And she took one of his hands and set in inside her blouse. "Don't worry," she said, "I'll tell you what I like." And then she pulled him up into a sitting position and put her lips to his throat.

After a moment, he called out, "Um, Callie...?"

"Hmm?"

"I..."

He didn't go on, so she prodded, "Yes?"

In a very shaky voice, he said, "Um... You're... I'm..."

She pulled back to look at him, but he wouldn't meet her eye. "What?" she asked.

"I'm..." He swallowed the lump in his throat, before he said, "You're, um... sitting right in my lap."

It took her a second, but then she realized. "Oh..." she breathed. His expression was a mix of embarrassment and guilt, but she couldn't suppress a grin as she asked, "I did that to you?"

He braved a glance up at her, but just for a fraction of a second. She shifted her hips, feeling around for it, and he sucked in a breath. "Christ, don't do that," he said.

"Why, was that bad?" she asked.

He half-chuckled, half-scoffed. "No, it was good. Too good."

"Ah," she said, getting the picture. What the hell was she supposed to do now? Despite the flirting and the touching and the aggressiveness, she hadn't been expecting... well, this. But she was old enough to know what it meant when a man responded this way, and she raised a brow at him as she asked, "Do you wanna...?"

He simply stared at her for a moment, and she thought, Tell me you're not that innocent. But he replied, "You- You're asking... if...?"

"Well," she said hesitantly, "you do seem... up for it."

His face was completely red at this point, but he sighed and said, "It'll pass."

"Will it?" she asked, raising a brow.

"Eventually."

She gave the whole matter a moment of thought before she climbed off of him and sat at the edge of the bed. "People think I'm wanton," she said, more to herself than to him.

"What?" he asked.

"Slutty."

"S-" he began, but paused. "You're not... wanton! Hell, it took three years to even get a kiss!"

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry!"

"So you're not going to be disappointed if we don't-" She cut herself off, suddenly too embarrassed herself to talk about sex.

But he replied, "No."

She raised a brow at him. "No?"

"No," he repeated.

She looked away from him, a bit disheartened. "Ow," she said. "Guess I was hoping for a little bit of pushback."

"You want me to-" He paused. "I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want!"

"I know that. But you're not at all disappointed?"

He gaped at her a moment, before shaking his head to himself. "I didn't bring you here to try and shag you, Callie," he said. "But yes, if you had wanted that, I would've been thrilled. Clearly." He dropped his eyes to his groin, and she smirked. "But I'm not disappointed. Just kissing you is more than I ever could've hoped for. Getting to touch you that way is a dream come true." He paused, before continuing, "You really need me to tell you that? Bloody hell, I thought I was supposed to be the insecure one."

She smiled to herself, then said, "You still are. Guess I just wanted to feel... sexy." He didn't respond, so she added, "You don't always have to be such a God damn gentleman."

"Okay," he said. "You wanna feel sexy?" He came up behind her and pushed her hair to one side so he could kiss her neck. "I've been dying to get you in bed again all year," he whispered. Then, slipping a hand in her shirt and grabbing her, "I don't feel like a 'God damn gentleman' when I'm thinking of you every night."

Ooh. So, she wasn't the only one who... fantasized.

"Ever wish," she asked, "that you didn't have to share a room with four other people?"

"Yes," he said. "That's why I like the holidays so much."

A wicked grin curled her lip, and she turned to push him back on the bed. "Not so innocent after all," she said.

"It's your fault. Didn't I say you were a bad influence?" As he looked up at her, his face became serious again. "I mean it though," he said. "Much as I'd love to... not have to only think about it anymore..." He paused. "Trust me, I'm never gonna say no to you. So I guess it's your call."

Sighing, she said, "Bloody hell, Neville. You've sure got a lot of restraint. You are a fifteen-year-old red-blooded male, yes?"

He glanced downwards, to where she was sitting on him again, and said, "I think we can both answer that."

She smirked, but then said, "I don't really care if people call me a slut."

"You're not a slut."

"Obviously. It's just that maybe we could... build the suspense for a while?"

Jokingly, he asked, "Three years wasn't enough?"

Leaning forward to meet his lips, she replied, "Not hardly." And then, after a kiss, "By the end of this, I intend to have you begging."