49. Christmas with the Longbottoms
On the train home the following day, Callie complained, "I've never felt so useless in my life." She had her Herbology text open in her lap, and Neville was at her side, helping her sort everything out. "I miss the days when I held your hand through assignments," she went on. "Then it was an equal trade."
Now that he wasn't taking Potions anymore, their tutoring sessions were solely for her benefit. "Don't feel bad, love," he said with a smirk, "this is doing wonders for my self-esteem."
She glared at him and asked, "Are you getting some kind of an ego boost from watching me struggle?"
He bowed his head sheepishly, but couldn't suppress his grin. She whacked him with the book. "Oh, come off it!" he said, chuckling and shielding himself, "You outshine me in everything else. It's nice to not be the hopeless one for once."
"I am not hopeless," she argued, though she was now smiling herself. "I just..." she shrugged "...can't seem to focus so well these days."
He took the book from her and shut it. "Take a load off, why don't you? We're on break."
Yes they were, and her mum had agreed to let Neville stay with them over the holidays - provided they didn't try to gang up on her about leaving Britain again. He was going to return to his gran's for Christmas day, but they were looking forward to ringing in the new year together.
The woman wasn't home when they arrived a few hours later, and they took advantage of the opportunity to be alone, without the threat of roommates walking in to break them apart. "This is a lot more fun than studying," Callie remarked, as she straddled Neville on the sitting room sofa.
"Eh, when will she be back?" he asked between kisses.
"Not 'til this evening. We've got plenty of time."
"Really? In that case..."
He didn't go on, but she had a pretty good idea of what was on his mind. "Mr. Longbottom," she teased, "are you propositioning me?"
He bowed his head, looking somewhat shame-faced. "Just... throwing it out there," he said. "But I was only half-serious."
Smiling at him, she reminded, "I said I wanted you to beg, remember? Not that desperate yet, are you?"
"Cal," he breathed, running his fingers through her hair, "I'm way beyond desperate."
"Are you?" she asked, shifting herself over his lap and eliciting a groan. He was desperate, from what she could tell.
"Don't do that," he said. "Or else I'm gonna..." He was too embarrassed to go on, his face completely red.
But she replied in a seductive tone, "Maybe that's my goal," and ground herself against him again.
"Jesus!" he exclaimed through gritted teeth. "All right, fuck it, keep going."
She tugged at the hem of his shirt and whispered in his ear, "Take it off."
He hesitated, looking bashful, but complied. She could tell he wasn't entirely comfortable being shirtless in front of her, as he wasn't particularly chiseled. But she didn't care about that; seeing him bare-chested was a complete turn-on. She pulled off her own blouse and tossed it aside, wanting to feel his skin against hers.
"Polý oraía," she muttered in Greek.
"What's that mean?"
"Very nice." She trailed her lips over his jawline, down his neck, his collarbone, his chest, slipping down to her knees to travel lower and lower. If the sounds that were emanating from his throat were any indication, he was very appreciative of all she was doing. When she placed a kiss at his abdomen, he actually bucked his hips towards her, unconsciously it seemed. But that was nothing compared to when she reached down to grab him through his pants; he practically yelped and a shudder ran through his whole body.
"Christ, Cal," he breathed, and she shot him a devilish grin.
"You're so easy to please," she said.
"You don't have to..." he began, but trailed off.
"I want to."
He had an apprehensive look on his face, but she knew what was going on with him down below. Stretching up to whisper in his ear, she muttered, "Deíxe mou póso me théleis, Neville," and grabbed him again. He threaded his fingers through her hair and kissed her lips - and that was when they heard the front door open.
"Callie?" her mother called out.
The couple jerked away from each other, Callie whipping her hand away from Neville's groin, as the woman shrieked, "Oh, my God!"
She turned away from them while Neville damn near threw Callie off his lap so he could grab up his shirt. While he fumbled to pull it on, she frantically looked around for something to cover herself with, as she was sporting nothing up top but a somewhat see-through bra.
"What," Susanna said, still averting her eyes, "in the hell is going on in here?"
"What're you doing home so early?!" Callie shouted.
"I switched shifts so I could be here when you came back," Susanna explained. "Good Christ, this is what I have to walk into?!"
"Ma'am, I'm so sorry," Neville said, looking absolutely mortified and shame-faced. "I- I didn't mean-"
"Quiet!" the woman said, holding up a silencing hand. Then, to Callie, "You put your God damn clothes on." To Neville, "You..." But she simply shook her head and stomped off into the kitchen.
The two teenagers eyed each other, and Callie could see that he wasn't just embarrassed, but a little bit terrified. However, she couldn't help herself, and burst into laughter.
From the kitchen, her mother called out, "I see nothing funny about this, Calista!"
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It was her turn to receive a scolding while Neville waited in another room. "We were only kissing," she explained. "We're sixteen, that's what sixteen-year-olds do, in case you've forgotten."
Susanna brought a hand to her face and shook her head in exasperation. Unable to meet her daughter's eye, she asked, "Have you slept with him?"
"Not that it's any of your business," Callie replied, folding her arms across her chest, "but no."
The woman studied her for a long moment, no doubt trying to gauge whether she was speaking the truth. "Bloody hell," she finally exclaimed. "I don't know what to think of you."
"I'd prefer it if you didn't think about my sex life at all," Callie remarked.
"What sex life?" her mother asked, probably thinking she'd just caught the girl in a lie.
But Callie simply replied, "Exactly." They both fell quiet for a moment, before she went on, "In any event... there are some things you don't need to know."
"I don't need to know what my teenaged daughter is doing alone in my home with a boy?"
"No. I am not stupid, I'm old enough to make my own decisions, and I love him. And he loves me." After a pause, she added, "Besides, I've heard stories of you at my age. I know you weren't quite so innocent yourself."
"Tsk." Susanna rolled her eyes and shook her head again. "You're unbelievable," she remarked.
"Yes, I know," Callie agreed. It took every bit of willpower she had to not say, That's what Neville said.
Despite the whole incident, Susanna continued to let Neville stay with them, and a couple of days later - after his fear and awkwardness around her had died down - he'd apparently worked up the courage to ask her if Callie could accompany him and his gran when they went to visit his parents on Christmas day.
"You- You want me to come along?" Callie asked him in disbelief. She would've thought this was an entirely private family moment that he would never ask her to join in on.
But he explained, "I want you to meet them. I want them to see how happy you make me." He paused. "Even if they can't really... comprehend it."
"What about your gran, does she...?"
"I asked her, she's fine with it. We'll be back here in the afternoon, so you can be with your mum."
She considered the idea, and a small smile slowly curled her lip. "You want me to be there?" she asked. "You want me to meet them?"
"You know how much I like to show you off," he teased.
She took his face in her hands and kissed him. After a minute or so, she pulled back and whispered, "Tell me you love me."
To her surprise, he murmured, "Se agapó."
Callie's mouth dropped open in surprise. "Where'd you learn how to say that?" she asked.
Shrugging, he replied, "Your translator. I'm hoping to figure out all those things you've been whispering."
Smiling wider, she said, "Say it again."
He brought her close to place his lips at the spot below her ear that really got her going. "Se agapó, Calista," he breathed, sending a shiver down her spine.
"Bloody hell," she sighed. "I'll never get tired of hearing that."
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On Christmas morning, he presented her with a solid gold cauldron and a set of crystal potion bottles. She, in turn, had gotten him a Firebolt. "No way!" he exclaimed.
"Now you won't have to ride off on a thestral the next time you're called into battle," Callie said.
"Bloody hell," he muttered, looking over the broomstick in awe.
Off to the side, Susanna said, "Not used for housework, I gather?"
"Not this baby," Callie replied. "Top flying broom in the world, that is. All the professional Quidditch teams use them."
Turning to her with a look of complete gratitude, he said, "Thank you," and began to lean in for a kiss - until he remembered her mother was watching them and stopped himself.
As though rewarding the boy for his restraint, Susanna said, "I didn't forget about you, Neville," and handed him a gift. She'd gotten him a striped cardigan sweater. "Be sure and keep it on," she half-joked, half-warned.
"Thank you, Dr. Warbeck," he replied with a blush. "I didn't forget about you either."
Callie watched her mum open the present, knowing what it was - a gold necklace with the woman's name on it. How long will it take her to notice, I wonder? But she seemed to realize what was so special about the piece of jewelry almost immediately, as she took a closer look, furrowing her brow. "Is... is that...?"
"Yes," Callie confirmed. The golden signature had been made in her father's handwriting.
Gazing down at the gift, the woman asked, "How did you do this?"
"Magic," Neville explained. "Callie let me use one of his letters to you as a template. I hope you don't mind."
"The one he gave you the day before your wedding," the girl added. With a shrug, she said, "Thought it was fitting."
Susanna ran her fingers over her husband's script, a wistful look on her face. Callie could see a tear forming in her eye, but she blinked it back and took a deep breath, trying not to get emotional in front of their guest. After a moment, she stood up and came over to Neville, wrapping her arms around him and giving him a peck on the cheek. "Thank you," she said, looking more appreciative of the boy than she ever had before.
"You're welcome, ma'am."
She went off to try on the necklace and have a look at it, and once she was gone, Callie said, "She's going to cry. You made my mother cry."
Looking bashful, he replied, "Sorry."
Checking to make sure they were alone, she pulled him in for a kiss. "Merry Christmas, doll face," she said with a wink.
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She was uncharacteristically nervous as they made their way up to the fourth floor of St. Mungo's hospital a few hours later. "You're sure about this?" she asked as they followed Mrs. Longbottom down the corridor.
"I'm sure," Neville replied.
"What should I do? Should I hang back and just..." she shrugged "...observe?"
"You can talk to them, ya know," he informed her. "They won't understand, but... Gran and I do it anyway, as if they could."
"So," she said, "basically just act normally?"
"Exactly. But they might be a little standoffish since you're new to them. Give 'em a chance to check you out first."
"All right," she replied, taking a deep breath.
They reached the Janus Thickey ward, and a healer unlocked the door to let them in. "Good morning, Frank, Alice," the lime green-clad witch called out cheerily. "You have guests."
Their beds were at the end of the ward, on opposite sides of each other, and if the two knew they were husband and wife, they gave no indication of that. Mrs. Longbottom approached her son first, greeting, "Hello, dear. Merry Christmas," and giving him a kiss on the forehead.
As she moved on to her daughter-in-law, Neville met the man with a pat on the shoulder and a "Merry Christmas, Dad." He then went over to his mum and did the same, but included a kiss on the cheek.
Callie stood back, not knowing what to do or say as she took in her boyfriend's parents. She knew that they were only in their mid-forties, but they both looked a good fifteen years older. She'd seen pictures of them in their prime, when they'd been healthy and strong and full of life. Now they were a little bit gaunt and rather frail-looking, their eyes blank, their hair prematurely white. Neville held his hand out, gesturing her forward, and she came to stand beside him near his mother's bedside, while Mrs. Longbottom returned to her son.
"Mum," Neville said, "I'd like you to meet someone. This is my girlfriend, Callie Warbeck."
On instinct, Callie took a step towards Alice Longbottom to offer her hand, but the latter got an anxious look on her face and got up off the bed, standing against the back wall in fear.
"Mum, it's okay," Neville said, taking Callie's hand in his and rubbing her arm. "She's a nice girl," he assured the woman. "She won't hurt you."
"She's afraid of me?" Callie whispered to the boy.
"She doesn't know you," he muttered back. "That's all." He went over to his mother and guided her back to the bed. The woman never took her eyes off Callie, who very cautiously took a seat on the vacant bed beside hers. She threw Neville a questioning look, and he said, "It's all right. Just... be patient with her."
She returned her gaze to the woman, giving what she hoped came off as a friendly smile. "Hello, Alice," she greeted in a soft voice. "Merry Christmas."
She kept still and continued to stare at Callie nervously.
"I brought you something," the girl said, reaching into her bag. She pulled out a box of Chocoballs and held it out, trying very hard to appear as nonthreatening as possible. "Neville said you like sweets."
Again, no response. Callie remembered his words from two years ago - They don't even know who they are or where they are. They don't know who I am either."
"That's your son," Callie explained, even though she knew the woman wouldn't understand. But an idea came to her, and she patted her own stomach, then pointed to Neville, and finally indicated Alice's abdomen. The woman looked from Callie to her son, then rose up and stood before him, studying him.
"Mum?" he said, his brow raised. She took his hand in hers, reached into her pocket, and set a Drooble's bubblegum wrapper in his hand. "Thanks," he replied quietly. To Callie, he explained, "This is how she communicates with me."
When Alice returned to her bed, Callie opened up the Chocoballs and popped one in her mouth, before offering the box once more. The woman looked down into it, hesitated, and finally took one. Callie smiled at her. They ate in silence for a moment, before Alice turned her eyes slightly to the side, and Callie figured she may have just been gazing mindlessly on some random spot. But then the woman reached out and touched Callie's hair, which had been hanging in a braid over her shoulder.
She had an interested and almost wistful look on her face, and as Callie took in her frazzled white curls, another idea struck. She ran her own hand over the braid, then reached out - again, very cautiously - to take a lock of Alice's hair between her fingers. Once more, she indicated her own braid, and then pointed to the woman. She inclined her head, and Callie decided to take that as permission to step behind her and begin her work.
Looking puzzled, Neville said, "Cal?"
"Every woman wants to look pretty," she explained, sectioning his mother's hair into three parts. He sat on the vacant bed and watched her go on.
"Neville's a good boy, he is," she said to Alice, desperately trying to get this right. She really had no idea how to do hair; her mum had given her the braid earlier at home. As she did her best, she continued, "He's almost sickeningly sweet - puts all the rest of the blokes at school to shame." Throwing him a glance, she could see him shaking his head, a slight smirk curling his lip. "But he's strong, too," she went on. "Brave. Puts up one hell of a fight, I've heard. Just like his mum and dad."
With another glance, she found that his smirk was now gone, replaced by a more serious expression. Something sad, and even a little defiant, like he wanted to argue against her comparison of him to his parents, her assertion that he was brave.
Callie continued, "And he's got a good heart. You'll be happy to hear that he knows how to treat a lady. He's always been there for me. He was my only real friend at a time when I had no one else. And he makes me happy." She and Neville met each other's eyes, and she said in a soft tone, "I love him." Then, after a pause, "Thank you for making such a good man."
They got quiet while Callie finished Alice's braid. When she was done, she conjured two mirrors and held one in front of the woman's face and one at the back of her head, so she could have a look. "What do you think?" Callie asked, and she was elated when Alice actually produced a small smile. But that wasn't all. She got up off the bed and went over to a pot of poinsettias on the windowsill, pulling a stem and holding it out for Callie, who hesitated, not knowing whether she was supposed to take it or not. But when she did, the woman didn't protest.
Returning a smile, she said, "Thank you, ma'am."
Alice ran her hand along Callie's braid once more, and then returned to her bed, picked up the chocolate box, and happily popped one in her mouth.
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Mrs. Longbottom brought them back to her house for afternoon tea. "Unbelievable!" she exclaimed. "I've never seen Alice respond so well to a stranger before!"
"She's going to be a healer," Neville replied. Then, to Callie, "I get it now. You've got that special touch."
She grinned at him, while Mrs. Longbottom went on, "Good Heavens! St. Mungo's is going to be lucky to have you, dear." Turning on her grandson, she asked, "Neville, why haven't you ever given any thought to a career in healing?"
"It's not my thing, Gran," he said.
"'Not your thing?'" she echoed. "Caring for the sick, saving lives? Quite an honorable cause for one to devote their life to, I'd say." Nodding to Callie, "Calista understands and she's got a plan. You'll be graduating in a year and a half. Have you given any thought to what you're going to do after Hogwarts? Or is there nothing on your mind other than those damn plants?"
Jesus Christ, Callie thought. The woman was berating him right in front of her. She was about to speak up when Neville said, "I couldn't be a healer anyway, I didn't get into N.E.W.T. Potions or Transfiguration. You need both subjects to become a healer."
"Right," Mrs. Longbottom said, "I did receive a rather rude letter from Minerva McGonagall explaining your failure to advance to her N.E.W.T.-level class. She advised you to take Charms?" Neville nodded, his cheeks red, and she remarked, "A soft option. And only one 'O,' in Herbology, of all things." She rolled her eyes. "Good Lord, Neville, your father excelled in Transfiguration - and Charms, and Defense Against the Dark Arts, and-"
"Stop it!" Callie finally cut in, causing both Neville and Gran to turn their attention on her.
The latter gaped at Callie for a moment, before she said in an airy voice, "I'm sorry, dear?"
"Stop berating him," Callie replied. "Good Christ, if I have to sit here and listen to this any longer, I'm going to open a bloody vein!"
In a quiet voice, Neville said, "Cal, it's okay."
"No, it isn't," she argued. Meeting Mrs. Longbottom's eye, she said, "I have listened to this boy put himself down for the last four years. All that time he's believed he isn't good enough, and you've had a rather large hand in that, ma'am."
The woman looked from Callie to Neville, as if this were the first she was hearing of how poorly he valued himself. And knowing how timid the boy was around her, it just may have been.
"What does he have to do to gain your respect?" Callie went on. "Risk his life at the Ministry fighting the very people who made his parents the way they are now? Endure a Cruciatus Curse from Bellatrix Lestrange rather than give up that God damn prophecy they wanted so badly? Join in to help his friends instead of just staying back at the castle to save his own skin? Is that not 'honorable' enough for you?"
Mrs. Longbottom simply gaped at the girl, her mouth hanging open slightly. "I-" she stammered, shooting another glance at Neville.
But Callie wasn't done. "You ought to be proud to call Neville your grandson, ma'am. Just like I'm proud to call him the boy I love." She paused, turning her gaze on him. "And just like Alice and Frank would be proud to call him their son."
He kept his eyes on the table, and Callie hoped that he wasn't terribly upset with her for going off on his grandmother that way. But she just couldn't sit there and say nothing while the woman beat him down. After a moment, Mrs. Longbottom looked over at him and said, "You think I'm not proud of you, lad?"
Hesitantly, he looked up to her, then to Callie, and finally dropped his eyes back to the table. In a quiet vice, he said, "You don't often show it."
Studying him, she replied, "I see." Callie tried to make out the expression on the woman's face, but she was unreadable. "Merlin's beard," she finally said. "You must think me quite the old, unpleasant crone, is that right?"
"No," he replied. "I just..." He trailed off, looking to Callie for help. But she merely set her hand on his knee under the table and gave him a look that said, You've got this.
Taking a breath, he went on, "I just wish... you weren't always so..." He was struggling so hard to get the words out, but finally he sighed and said, "Christ, I can't do anything right in your eyes! Nothing's ever good enough for you."
"I want you to be successful, Neville," she argued. "I have high standards, but they're for your own benefit."
"And what if I can't meet those standards? I'm never going to be just like my dad, we both know that. So what, then? What do I have to do to be worth something to you?"
Mrs. Longbottom simply stared at him a moment, before she replied, "You're worth everything to me, lad! Bloody hell, you're all I've got left!"
The two held each other's gaze, as if Callie wasn't even there.
The woman went on, "The only thing that kept me going when I lost your father was you. When your grandfather died, that was you too. You're not only your parent's son, you're practically my own. I've raised you from infancy - even when Frank and Alice were alive, they brought you to me when they were off fighting. And I'd look down at you and think of all you could become and I would pray they'd be around to see it. I am not trying to 'put you down'-" she shot a quick glance at Callie "-I am trying to build you up, to get you to be all you're capable of."
After a long pause, she continued in a soft voice, "You're right, you're not just like your father." Callie rolled her eyes, ready to argue, but Gran said, "Perhaps it was my own mistake, trying to mold you into him."
Neville furrowed his brow and asked, "What do you mean?"
Sighing, she explained, "I mean that I seem to have forgotten you're his child, not his duplicate. But damn it, Neville, I miss him. I miss who he used to be, I miss who he'll never get to be." She paused. "And I suppose I saw in you a second chance, a way to have him back."
Oh. It all made sense, the constant comparisons of him to his father, the high standards. "Ma'am," Callie began, but the woman held up a silencing hand, keeping her eyes on her grandson.
"Neville Alistair Longbottom," she said, emphasizing all three names, "you listen to me." She paused, before continuing, "I've done you a disservice, boy."
He looked up at her in surprise.
She went on, "All this time, I didn't want you to simply be like Frank - I actually wanted you to replace him." Again, he looked away from her, no doubt taking from her words that he was a disappointment in that regard. But she explained, "As a result, I've failed to acknowledge, not only the fact that he can't be replaced, but also that my grandson is his own person, and can't be made into someone that's he not."
"No, I can't," he said in a low voice.
Studying him for a long moment, she said, "But neither do you have to be a clone of the man to be worth something in my eyes." She got up and stood beside him. "You are worth everything to me," she repeated, taking his face in her hands to make him look at her. "And I am damn proud to call you my grandson."
He simply stared at the woman for a moment, and Callie guessed this was the first time he'd ever heard her say that.
"You don't ever have to question that again," Mrs. Longbottom went on. "Do you understand me?"
He held her gaze, a questioning look on his face. But her expression was quite earnest and unwavering. Eventually, he nodded and replied in a quiet voice, "Yes, Gran."
She gave him a small smile, bending down to kiss his cheek. When she straightened up, she turned to Callie and said, "I thank you, Miss Warbeck, for forcing me to realize just how backwards I've been being."
"You're welcome, ma'am," the girl replied. Below the table, Neville took her hand in his. She had kept it on his knee the whole time.
Rubbing her head tiredly, Mrs. Longbottom exclaimed, "Bloody hell." She then made her way off to the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, "Would anyone care for a bourbon?"
Perking up, Callie replied, "Sure!"
"Not me, thanks," Neville said, shooting her a glance. "I'm flying tonight."
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Though they'd traveled to London via the Floo Network that morning, it was now dark enough that they could safely return on the Firebolt instead. Callie sat behind Neville, holding her arms around his waist for dear life as he steered. "Remember when you broke your damn wrist in our first flying lesson?!" she shouted out over the wind.
"Yep!" he called back. "Don't forget, in case we crash, the Slowing Charm is Arresto Momentum!"
"Got it!" she yelled. They were going perhaps a hundred and fifty miles per hour, bowing their heads against the wind and the falling snow. She could no longer feel her face, and if she were being honest with herself, she didn't entirely trust Neville to manage the fastest broomstick in the world. And yet, he did look good on the thing, and racing through the air at top speed, wrapped tightly around him, was possibly the most thrilling experience she'd ever had. She was actually rather disappointed when their ride came to an end.
"Broomstick?" Susanna exclaimed when they told her how they'd gotten back. "Why didn't you just use the fire?"
"Where's the fun in that?" Callie said, smiling. Looking over at the Warbeck family Christmas tree, she pulled out her wand and reversed the Freezing Charm that she'd had to put on it before they'd left for London. Callie's aunt and uncle and cousins had come over for Christmas dinner, and they weren't in the know about the wizarding world. Now that they were gone, she could enjoy the golden tree with the moving ornaments that represented the twelve days of Christmas. The whole thing had been in their family since she'd been a toddler, and she'd always been delighted by the calling birds and the ladies dancing and the drummer's drumming, producing actual music as they moved about.
After partaking in some Christmas eggnog with the two teenagers, Susanna said, "I can't keep my eyes open. I'm going off to bed."
"The dinner was amazing, ma'am," Neville said. "And thanks again for the sweater." He had worn it for the visit with his parents, and still had it on.
Smiling tiredly at him as she rose up, she replied, "Thank you for the necklace," giving it a pat where it hung around her neck. She gave Callie a peck on the cheek and said, "Merry Christmas, baby."
"Merry Christmas, Mum." The woman made off up the stairs, leaving Callie and Neville to themselves - with Bela fast asleep on the former's stomach. Cuddling up close to Neville and resting her head on his chest, Callie said, "Kalá Christoúgenna."
"Explain," he said.
"Merry Christmas."
"Kalá Christoúgenna," he echoed.
They sat and watched the twinkling lights and dancing ornaments for a while, until Callie decided to set the bat in his cage. "Bela likes mangoes," she cooed, slipping the now awake creature a slice. Turning back to Neville, she said, "So, now that Mummy's tucked in for the night-" she came towards him, straddling his lap "-thought maybe we could pick up where we left off the other day."
"What if she wakes up and catches us again?" he asked.
"Oh, she's not going to be up for quite a while." When Neville furrowed his brow at her, she pulled out a tiny bottle labeled 'D.O.L.D.' and shook it mischievously.
His eyes widened. "You didn't," he said, eyeing the Draught of Living Death.
"I did indeed," Callie said, grinning devilishly. "Slipped it in her Christmas eggnog, right after the bourbon."
"You can do that to a muggle?"
"Sure," she shrugged. "Doesn't affect them any differently than a witch or wizard. She'll never have to know and she'll get a good night's sleep."
"Cunning Slytherin," he remarked, returning her grin.
She set the potion aside and went back to kissing him. "You looked really hot on that broom," she whispered in his ear.
"Did I?" he asked. "Is that why you got it, so you could objectify me?"
"Exactly," she replied.
"Good thinking."
They continued to kiss and touch and eventually they were both shirtless again, except for the red lacy bra that she wore. Pulling the strap aside to kiss her shoulder, he ordered, "Take it off."
"Bold Gryffindor," she replied, smirking. Then she unhooked the garment and tossed it aside. He really was bold, taking one breast in his hand and putting his mouth to the other.
Christ, I hope that draught works, she thought as she moaned her appreciation rather loudly. "Neville?" she called out.
"Hmm?"
She hesitated, but said, "She's not going to wake up. Nobody's around to interrupt us. And we're not going to have such a good opportunity once we go back to the castle."
He paused what he was doing, the implication slowly setting in, and looked up at her. "Are you-? Do you-?" he stuttered.
"Se agapó," she said, "kai se thélo." Burying her fingers in his hair, she explained, "I want you."
He looked nervous, but also like he was desperately trying to hide his excitement. "Are you sure?" he asked.
"Very," she replied, "Páre me sto kreváti, Neville."
"What does that mean?"
Leaning close to whisper in his ear, she said, "Take me to bed."
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Author's note: Sorry for the extra long chapter, but I didn't like the way it came out when I tried to break it in two.
Translations (Greek):
Deíxe mou póso me théleis = Show me how much you want me
Se agapó = I love you