Sorry for delayed posting on ! It's been up on Ao3 for days, and where I highly recommend reading this!
Chapter 19: It's My Party and I'll Cry If I Want To
The Hogwarts Library was nearly empty on Sunday, partially due to Madame Pince's tendency to shoo off any student who so much as sneezed.
There was a rumor that she and Filch were in cahootes with one another, sending 'misbehaving' students straight from her stacks to detention. More than enough people could attest to seeing the two of them in secret.
At the hour of twelve in the afternoon, most students were still in bed snoring and drooling to their heart's content, free to laze about as they pleased.
Others used the time to study for upcoming exams, check on potions that required time to brew, but most of them were in the Great Hall, watching the blue flames that swirled inside the goblet.
The word on the street was that the Bulgarian Seeker, Viktor Krum, was, indeed, the same one from the World Cup, which perplexed many people.
How did a student also hold the title of the greatest seeker in the world?
Well, he'd put his name in the goblet, and had been the only one from Durmstrang. Igor Karkaroff was adamant that Viktor would be his champion.
A few girls from the Beauxbaton's Academy had entered, though there was a buzz that one of the girls, Fluer Delacour, was looking forward to the choosing.
Though the goblet could not be enchanted to pick a certain champion, some people had seemed to adopt the ability of a Seer, and were certain of Krum and Fleur's choosing.
Silas had entered her name as well. The Slytherin House had gone mad with joy, cheering for the dark haired, strangely tall 7th year.
A few of them had tried to lift her to their shoulders, but had quickly settled on patting her on the back, proclaiming that she'd win the cup for the snakes.
People yelled louder when Cedric put his name in. A fool, Elizabeth shuddered, an absolute idiot. Without a shred of doubt, she was certain that there was nothing more foolish the other Hufflepuff could've done, and had made sure to stay out of his way since.
Elizabeth sat at a table in the library, looking at three books that Miss Pince had begrudgingly found for her.
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self Protection was as plain as the title, but her eyes hadn't wandered from the chapter concerning Werewolves. There were passages discussing defensive spells, protection against a feral wolf, and how to clean out a bite wound.
Their mouths were teeming with bacteria, as would any dog's mouth, mind you, but their fangs were venomous—unless the bite was administered between a mated pair, then, of course, the bite would tie the two beings together, leaving one unturned.
She kept reading the passage titled 'Exceptions' and 'Dangers of Intervening':
Intention is key when examining a werewolf's bite. Was it done with the intent of turning? (See Page 367, Greyback) If so, then the result would be in the turning of whoever is bitten into a werewolf. They would turn on the next full moon, typically under the watch of whoever had bitten them in the first place.
However, there have been documented cases of bites between mated* pairs, indicating that the bite was not administered with the intent to turn, but rather as a mark to demonstrate belonging or protection.
The bond between mated pairs is beyond the understanding of the Wizarding World. All cases where a muggle/wizard/witch attempted to forcefully remove the mated pair ended with death to all parties.
Symptoms of pair separation include: nausea, fatigue, lack of sleep, lack of hunger, weak limbs, etc. The werewolf in question, if one party is unaffected by lycanthropy, will become volatile and unhinged, obsessed and unstable. It is unwise to not complete the bond.
*See Page 360 for Bonding: What does it mean?
She flipped to page 360.
Bonding: What does it mean?
It means… Congratulations! At least, I would hope congratulations are in order. I, Trimble, could only hope that you've found this page in an attempt to understand how bonding with a magical creature works. They are all very unique and similar, but different in little ways. Veela are typically female, and are territorial with their quarters and breeding partners.
Those cursed with Lycanthropy are too territorial with their mate and den, but are monogamous creatures by nature. Once chosen, there's no turning back.
She closed the book and shut her eyes, trying to understand everything she'd just read. Since her last time seeing Remus, there had been a noticeable hole in her chest, gaping and pulsing each and every day.
It was driving her insane, but clearly Remus must have been doing worse.
The fear that she would one day be a werewolf no longer lingered.
Drinking wolfsbane, the fear of losing control, was not something she wanted to deal with. But she would be there for Remus when she could.
Shutting the book, she picked up the next one with slightly more disdain. Lupine Lawlessness: Why Lycanthropes Don't Deserve To Live.
Barely four pages in and she shut the book, refusing to read the words stating that lycanthropy was a filthy disease, that werewolves were better extinct.
She shuddered just thinking about the implications of such a heinous book. She placed it out of sight, picking up the last one and letting out a deep sigh.
Protection Charm for Your Mind: A Practical Guide to Counter Legilimency.
It was the one Daisy herself had recommended, seeing as she was fluent in the art of natural legilimency. Eliza was still trying to wrap her head around it.
Daisy, her friend of nearly seven years, was skilled in the art of slipping into one's mind unnoticed and leaving without a trace. Muggle's called people like her mind-readers .
"I don't do it all the time, I swear," Daisy had explained. "But I've known about you and Lupin since the start of last year. He thinks about you a lot."
Last year still felt like a whirlwind to Eliza; everything had happened so fast. When looking back, she realized that she and Daisy had barely spoken once Remus had been introduced.
"What does it feel like?" Eliza had inquired.
"Well," Daisy had thought for a moment. "Everyone's mind is different, so it's hard to pinpoint exactly what it feels like. But I guess it's a bit like a car radio. You know, you have to tune into the right frequency to hear the right thing."
It was harder to tune into some people, Daisy said, because people like Snape and Dumbledore tended to have empty minds all the time.
But empty didn't mean empty, as in they had no thoughts, but as in their thoughts and memories were locked behind a closed door with no key in sight.
"And sometimes… I hear things I wish I could forget."
Eliza flipped and skimmed the book in her hands, reading through passages describing just how few people were gifted at birth with such a gift.
But there were others who had mastered the spell, Legilimens.
Known Wizards who've mastered the art of Legilimency;
Salazar Slytherin
Queenie Goldstein
Albus Dubmledore
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named
*See Page 415 for 'Occlumency'
"There are a few books in the library that could be of some use to you." Daisy had offered. "There is a way to keep Legilimens out, but I've heard it's hard."
Occlumency; the art of repelling Legilimens.
Just as she started to read, a distinctly male voice scared her enough to have the book clattering against the table.
Off in the distance, Madam Pince hissed.
"Sorry," whispered Harry Potter. He slid into the seat across from her, setting down his stack of books. "I'm not interrupting you, am I?" His brows dipped. "I can go somewhere else…"
Harry and Eliza hadn't seen each other since the World Cup. Harry was still a fourth year, meaning he had a more rigorous schedule, focusing on passing his O.W.L's.
She, on the other hand, had less than the average student. As per Dumbedore's kindness, her only commitment was to Snape and Potions, which turned out to be much easier than anyone expected.
"No, you're fine." She assured him, gesturing to the mostly empty library. "It's not like I'm waiting for anyone else."
"Good, good." Harry smiled. He made quick work of pulling out a roll of parchment and opening the book, A History of Magic. It was a required text for fourth years, and one that she knew all too well.
Professor Binn's had a knack for essays, one that nearly had Desmond receive an dreadful grade.
"So," Harry started. "How's everything been for you?"
"It's been good, I suppose. Everything happening with Minister Crouch and the Tournament has sort of made the days feel shorter than they are."
Harry nodded. "You're not… thinking of entering your name, right?" Instantly, he turned red. "Not that I don't think you'd win, because you would, but it just seems a bit dangerous. You heard what Dumbledore said about how difficult it'll be."
"Don't worry about me, Harry. I'd lose before it even began." They both chuckled, then flinched at Madam Pince's irate hiss.
Once her footsteps faded, Harry asked, "What're you reading?"
"Just something to pass the time, you know," she chuckled uneasily. Daisy's secret wasn't hers to tell, Harry was no exception.
"Oh, that's nice." The boy smiled at the seventh year. "I've been meaning to talk to you about that night at the World Cup. I just… I wanted to say sorry again. If I hadn't run off, then your name wouldn't have ended up on the front page of the Daily Prophet. I should've stayed with Ron and Hermione and—"
She interjected, "There are lots of things that should have happened, but you can't blame yourself for everything, Harry. You couldn't have known that the camp would be attacked by," she paused to look around, leaning in to whisper, "Death Eaters."
The Wizarding World was still in disbelief that the Dark Mark had been cast that night, that Muggles had been terrorized— and killed — that night.
The Ministry was attempting to cover it up, but the two of them knew the truth. And that's not to say that there were still things Eliza was ignoring from that night— like the note from Lucius Malfoy, still unread in that coat under her bed.
Harry begrudgingly nodded, and she lightly toed his shoe under the table. "You can't hold the weight of the world on your shoulders, Harry. Just try and worry about passing your O.W.L's for now."
In a way, she pitied him. There was so much riding on Harry, a reputation that no one his age should have to uphold. An expectation to be the savior was not one she could understand, but if Mara had taught her anything, it was that empathy was a valuable trait.
"If you ever need anything, Harry, anything at all," she reached across the table to lightly pat his hand, "I'm here for you. You don't have to do this alone, not now, not ever."
For the first time in a while, a genuine smile broke across Harry's face.
The Great Hall was alive on Monday. Students bustled in hordes to consume the egregious amounts of food prepared by the elves in the kitchens; aromas of sweet tarts with a honeyed glaze, newly cased sausage, browned to perfection.
Fresh fruit tarts lined every table, glazed spring rolls alongside golden yorkshire puddings.
There were bowls with rashers of bacon, crispy potatoes and thinly sliced bread. Jugs of pumpkin juice lined each table, and Jean poured some for herself, smiling at her best friend with full teeth.
Just hours ago, she'd awoken her best friend with a pillow to the head, screeching that no one was allowed to sleep in on their birthday. Eliza had begrudgingly gotten up with weak limbs and tangled hair.
"Happy birthday!" Daisy sang, plopping down on the bench across from her two friends. "How does it feel, Lizzie? Is that—"
She reached across the table to pluck a curl from Eliza's head, "—a grey hair?"
Jean burst into a fit of laughter, Daisy joining in. They only let up when the Professors started to make their way to the head table, avoiding the careful eye of Snape.
"So, birthday girl, how do you feel?" Jean asked, pilling food high on her plate.
Eliza bit into a buttered roll. "Same as yesterday." She smiled and waved at Desmond when he strolled up to the table, plopping down next to his sister, who in turn gave his shoulder a nudge.
"Happy birthday, 'Liza," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a little box. "Here, just a little something from me."
"Oi, that's not fair. You didn't consult us about a group gift, did you? We had a plan that you fell through on, remember?"
Desmond smiled at Jean's ire. "I wasn't aware we weren't allowed to get her something more personal. My bad."
"You ass," Daisy said to her brother. "Now Jean and I's gift looks cheaper."
Eliza cut them all off, "Stop it, please. None of you had to get me anything, so no fighting about who got me what or any of that."
She began to tear open the wrapping paper from Desmond's gift. "I bet I'll love everything, no matter what— oh. "
Inside the small box, resting against a dark colored foam, was a necklace with a cursive E as the pendant. "Oh, Desmond, this is beautiful," she gushed.
It sparkled in the light pouring in from the large windows lining the hall, and when she lifted it up to dangle from her fingertips, she noticed the light honey colored gems lining the letter.
For a moment, she felt as if the clock of time had reversed, and she was young again with her parents. Both of them were standing over her with bright smiles and wide eyes, holding out a necklace just like this one, in front of her very eyes.
She'd lost that necklace long ago, no doubt somewhere in the place she used to call home. Eliza felt tears build in her eyes, and she clumsily reached across the table to hug Desmond, who chuckled and patted her back.
"It was nothing, really," he said shyly. "Just… happy birthday."
"Well, shit, now my gift looks rank." Jean slumped in her seat. "I should've gone first."
Before she could console her friend, Eliza asked Desmond, "When did you even get this? And I hope you didn't spend too much on me. I'll have birthdays far more important than this one."
"I…" He looked lost for a moment, brows scrunched in confusion. "I think I bought it in Hogsmeade. Yeah, it must've been there, I think."
"You think?" Daisy turned to her brother, putting down the half eaten yorkshire pudding.
"Well you bought it, didn't you? How can you not know—"
"I have alot on my mind, alright?" He snapped. Daisy reared back as if hit, and he abruptly stood, wishing Eliza a quiet 'happy birthday' before marching out of the Great Hall.
"The fuck is his problem?" Jean snarled at his empty seat. "Is it his goddamn time of the month?"
Eliza felt eyes on the back of her skull, and gave a small glance around. There, across the hall, Professor Moody was watching them.
There was no distinct look on his face, but she still felt chills run down her spine.
Daisy's eyes were still on where her brother had walked out, and softly remarked, "He really doesn't know."
"Well, let's get over that," Jean turned to Eliza with a newfound smile. "Daisy and I have been planning this gift for a long time, so you better like this or I swear I'll use it myself.
We, as in Daisy and I, have procured you an all expenses paid trip to Romania this summer." She pulled out two tickets from within her robes, holding them out with glee.
"And I don't know if you recall, but I mentioned I would get in touch with Charlie Weasley, and I did. So, next summer, you and your… person of choosing will also have a private meeting with the dragons under Charlie's care."
Eliza was… beyond shocked. This was too much. "This is too much," she repeated. "I… what?"
"It's not until this summer, so it's more of a take home gift to look forward to later," chimed Daisy. "I tried to get my brother on board but he's been acting weird. I was in charge of the train tickets, but he thought he knew better."
Eliza couldn't hold back the tears in her eyes, proclaiming, "These are both wonderful gfts! I-I didn't expect anything like this at all."
She attempted, and failed to pull the three of them into a hug. "I love you both so much."
She messily wiped the tears away when an owl soared overhead a little too close for comfort, dropping a letter an inch away from the pumpkin juice.
Her name was delicately sprawled across the front. Her heart swelled, and she quickly tore it open, smiling as she read the contents of the letter.
If possible, meet me in Hogsmeade. I'll find you. However, if you're unable to sneak out— I would recommend the one-eyed witch passageway near my old classroom, but I find floo works just as well. Padfoot sends his best.
With love,
Moony
Jean peered over her shoulder to read the few lines. "Why's he calling himself that? Is it code or something?" She scrunched up her nose.
"I could've thought of something more creative than Moony. "
"Who's that?" Daisy asked with wide, wondering eyes.
At the same time, Eliza answered in a whisper, "Remus", while Jean loudly exclaimed "No one, nothing."
Jean stared at her friend as if she'd suddenly grown two heads. "I...I thought we..." She looked at Daisy with confusion. "Wait, does she… do you know?"
Daisy nodded. "Only a few days ago."
Jean threw her hands up in the air, rolling her eyes. "I guess we're all in on it now. We should think of a club name, you know. Like, the secret society of Lizzie lovers… no, that's not very catchy."
Eliza nearly snorted her pumpkin juice when Daisy added, "We could call ourselves Lovers of 'Liza, have Remus be our mascot."
"You're all horrible," chuckled Eliza. She pocketed the letter and finished off her breakfast.
She was nearly ready to leave for Potions when Jean inquired as to what exactly she would be doing with Lupin tonight.
"I don't really know yet. I think it's more of a surprise, which is nice. I don't have to plan anything, I can just have a good night, you know? I think it'll be good for me."
"You'll have a great time, Lizzie. Just make sure you're able to sneak back in without getting caught."
"I will," she promised Daisy. "And I was thinking of asking Professor Snape if there are any spots open for Apparition. It could definitely be something that will come in handy."
"Yikes, apparition. Are you sure about that? My Dad had a friend who tore up his whole arm, nearly splinched it clean off." Jean said. "Hell, I've heard horror stories about it happening to students. Pretty nasty stuff, apparition."
There were always downsides to powerful magic, and with apparition, there was the possibility of being splinched.
If your magic was unstable, or someone tried to hold onto you right as you apparated, you could end up in the entirely wrong place, missing a limb, bleeding out. Sure, the stories frightened her, but some fears needed to be overcome.
"I trust Snape, he'll be a good teacher. I don't think it would be in his best interest if I bled out in his classroom."
"You never know," Daisy pondered aloud, and all three of their eyes turned to watch Snape at the Head Table, who in turn was watching the roaring goblet of fire. "His mind works in mysterious ways."
~"Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday, dear Elizabeth,
Happy birthday to you!" ~
Sirius Black, looking much more alive than he had in years, walked out with a two tiered chocolate cake with messy, dark frosting coating the sides.
Seventeen pink candles were lit and waved with each step. Covering his face was a smile that nearly lit up the room, and he delicately placed it on the table, pushing it towards her.
At her side, Remus wound his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side and kissing the crown of her head. She giggled and sank into his embrace, remembering to lean forward and blow out the candles.
"Thank you both so much, this is lovely." She swiped a finger through the chocolate frosting to taste Sirius' masterpiece.
Thankfully, it was more delicious than it looked. "I really appreciate this, from the both of you."
"This was all Moony's idea, sweetheart, think nothing of my part in this." Sirius began to cut the cake. "In fact, up until last night, we'd been trying to plan a picnic in Sydenham, but it sort of fell through at the last minute. He owes you one."
At her side, Remus shook his head with a grind.
The three ate their large pieces of cake, complimenting Sirius on his baking skills. The former Azkaban prisoner was extremely talkative.
He inquired as to how her classes were going, where she intended to work post graduation, how Harry was doing, even how her friends were doing.
He missed the outside world, trapped in another prison, though this time it was one of his own choosing. But he still missed everything outside Grimmauld Place.
"It's good to hear that you're doing well, even if you spend too much time with Snivellus," Sirius mumbled. "Don't trust him as far as I can throw him."
"Sirius," scolded Remus.
"No, Moony, she has a right to know who she's spending all her time with." Sirius clenched his jaw, his nostrils flaring.
"You remember last year at the Shrieking Shack? He can't help but put his nose wherever he thinks it belongs."
"He was just trying to help," explained Eliza. "Alot of people made mistakes that night. Harry attacked him, you attacked Ron, and Snape even spelled me. We all made—"
At her side, Remus went still. "Severus used magic on you?"
"Yes, but I would've gone after you, and once you'd turned I could've gotten hurt. He was trying to help."
She could see the tension rising in the room. "I think we all just need to take a deep breath."
Eliza's face fell when Remus shot out from his seat, and watched as he stormed through the back door, uncaring of the door that loudly clapped shut in his wake.
Through the soft bond in her heart, she could feel his rage.
When she made to rise and go after him, Sirius reached over to push her back down. "Give him a moment, Elizabeth, it's not your fault."
"I shouldn't have brought it up," she said. "I didn't think he'd react like that."
"Really, Elizabeth. It's not your fault. It's just a little too close to his time of the month. He's more on edge than normal, more likely to bite your head off if there's no coffee made each morning, but especially when it comes to you." Sirius began to make himself some tea.
"He really had intended for a picnic, but the full moon is too close for comfort."
The memory of Remus turning was still fresh in her mind; his pained screams as his bones grew and morphed, his teeth sharpening and the low growls bubbling in his chest. It was frightening to remember, but even with that image in her mind, it didn't tarnish her desire to be with him.
"There will be other birthdays, other important things in my future that I want to share with him. He does know that, right? He knows that I care about him, Sirius, he must."
"I think Moony is prone to self-hatred." Sirius tapped his spoon on the lip of the glass, saying, "He thinks he doesn't deserve you, or me, or any of this. Neither of us will ever know what he faces, but we can be there for him. And that, Elizabeth, is all I ask of you."
Carefully, she stepped outside into the near moonlight, and stood next to Remus. His eyes were transfixed on the beautiful moon lingering in the sky, but she couldn't look away from him.
In this setting, his beauty was breathtaking. His green eyes practically glowed under the light.
The scruff on his face had been trimmed, his hair styled, and she couldn't hold back the desire to reach up and kiss his cheek.
"I'm sorry for defending Snape," she softly whispered. "I didn't mean to make you angry."
"Don't be. You're right, you know. He was trying to protect you and I could've hurt you that night." Remus deeply sighed. "I'm just a fool."
"No you're not, Remus. You're perfect," she revealed, as if it were a secret. "And here, with you… there's no place I'd rather be."
Those words were entirely true, even if he didn't believe them.
"There's still the matter of your gift, darling," Remus reminded her, beginning to tug her back inside. "I'm afraid I've left it upstairs."
Back inside, Sirius was nowhere to be found.
Remus held her hand in his as they walked, and she made little mental notes as they stepped up the old wooden stairs, each step creaking under their weight.
The wallpaper was aged and hideous, and pictures of people she didn't know lined the walls. Most of the doors were shut upstairs, but he ushered her into the one he'd claimed for himself.
It was neater than she'd expected, and reminded her of his classroom last year. A coat hanging off the chair, books lining the cabinet that was missing the bottom shelf, and a neatly made bed with two thick comforters, one hand made—possibly by Ms. Weasley.
It was very homey, and while Remus went to the left side of the room, presumably to get her gift, she flopped on the bed.
A smile erupted on her face; it doesn't get any better than this.
Merlin, she never wanted to leave.
The ache in her chest had vanished, the smell of Remus was everywhere, and—
"Well, isn't this a lovely sight?" said Remus, standing knee to knee with her. "If only you could hear what Moony thinks of you like this."
She giggled, biting her lip. "Is he as happy as I am?"
"Happier, I'd say. And I wholeheartedly agree." With a glint in his eyes, Remus crawled over her.
This close, she could practically taste the remnants of chocolate cake on his breath. She felt a sense of longing pulsing in her chest, matching the beat of his heart.
They'd only kissed twice before, but those had been in secret, the lines of student and teacher crossed in secrecy.
But here, in a bed that turned her mind to mush with the body of a man that plagued her dreams and waking thoughts, she was too weak to resist the call of his lips, and surged forward.
His initial surprise was gone just as fast, and his hands scrambled to pull her closer—if even possible— not wanting an inch of space to keep them apart.
You see, it had been too long, Eliza concluded. To keep the two of them apart was a cruelty, as the book in the library would agree. Slowly, the rest of the world began to blur into nothingness, and she could only feel the soft lips on hers, the tongue in her mouth, the hands pulling her close.
And as for Remus, he was sure he was dreaming while wide awake. She tasted sweeter than honey and chocolate, her scent assaulting his nose like a cooling pool of water enveloping his form.
He felt his cock grow hard, rutting against her thighs in an attempt to soothe the ache to mark, to bite, to fuck, to claim—
She yelped in surprise when his hands lifted and dropped her higher up on the bed, his face pushing against her skirt. "Please," he begged, as if a man dying from thirst.
His nose dug into her hip. "Just a taste," he whispered brokenly.
"Uhm…" she gulped. "I've never…"
Eliza knew nothing about what to do when it came to touching her body, but she did know that there was a low fire in her belly after kissing Remus, and that she trusted him wholeheartedly. But that didn't mean she wasn't nervous.
He pulled back with blown, green eyes, his words nearly slurred. "I'm not going to fuck you tonight, Elizabeth. I want to be more man than wolf when I take you.
Tonight," his hands rang along the seams of her skirt, "I just want a taste."
She gave a gentle nod, and he slowly began to remove his upper half of clothing, throwing his button up shirt into the corner of the room. His chest was dotted with scratches and marks, and she vowed to one day kiss each one.
But his impatient hands unbuttoned her shirt, displaying a pale bra that had seen better days.
Leaning down, he nosed along the exposed skin of her stomach. Every touch of his lips made her body feel warmer; every breath against her skin made her heart beat faster.
She shuddered as his hands gently tugged down the skirt, pulling it over her plump hips and down her thighs, over her knees and finally off.
Merlin, she hadn't worn the panties for this, some simple ratty things, but she was the only one who cared.
"Beautiful," Remus praised the sight before him. He wished there was a camera nearby. He never wanted to forget this, as long as he lived.
She was beautiful, more so than he'd imagined, and his heart skipped a beat, hands skimming over her luscious, full thighs.
Her stomach was twisting in knots as he stared down, wondering if there was something wrong with her that she couldn't see. Sure, she was young and was maybe a bit fuller than other girls—
As if sensing her thoughts, again, Remus leaned up to kiss her slow and sweetly, butterflies erupting in her belly. I wonder if it will feel like this every time. His movements were gentle, but there was hunger behind them, and when he pulled back, she knew he could no longer resist.
He made quick work of falling to his knees, grinning when she yelped as his hands tugged at her legs to get them to hang off the bed. His fingers hooked onto the aged seam of her panties and tugged, exposing a thatch of curls that positively reeked of her smell, one that had a low growl emitting from his chest.
Once her panties were off and thrown to the corner of the room, like a viper, he struck. His tongue worked similarly to his wolf; wild and untamed— hungry . She clenched her thighs instinctively, but he barely paid them mind, prying them open and darting forward.
Up above, she shook against the covers, head thrown back in a soundless scream. His fingers dug bruises into her thighs, tugging her close as his mouth feasted on her cunt, moving between sucking on her clit and tonguing it in circles, relishing in every jerk of her hips.
He was like a beast between her thighs, and his cock was hard in his slacks, hips thrusting into the air.
Merlin, he wanted to be inside her, to feel her warm cunt and fuck his seed until it took root and she was round with pups. Soon, he promised himself, giving a particularly harsh suck on the throbbing nub in his mouth.
She wept helplessly as the knot in her belly grew tighter and tighter, her hands tugging on his short locks, unsure if pushing him away or tugging him closer was the right option. This was nothing like she'd ever felt before, and she never wanted it to end.
But when it did, she saw stars behind her eyes and felt broken moans spill from her lips, her hips jerking against his face as she covered him in her juices, which he lapped up like the dog he was.
She hissed when he squeezed her hips a little too tight, his tongue still licking her and sending aftershocks of pleasure up her spine.
She whispered his name, and in the back of her mind, she knew it was late, that Daisy and Jean were both probably waiting up for her, hoping she made it back without getting caught. But all of those worries faded away as he lifted her to the top of the bed, setting a fluffy pillow under her head.
Every limb seemed to ache, especially between her legs, but she was very happy, so much so that going back to Hogwarts tonight seemed silly, that leaving bed seemed silly.
Everything that wasn't staying here and never leaving seemed ridiculous.
"Elizabeth," whispered Remus, slipping into the space next to her.
He wound his arms around her back, pulling her flush to his chest. "I've dreamt of us like this."
She snuggled close. "Me too."
Her eyelids fluttered and Remus heard her heart slow down into a steady beat, a lullaby for Moony to also follow her into a dreamless sleep.
The Thursday following Elizabeth's birthday, the Tri-Wizard Champions were chosen.
Viktor Krum
Fleur Delacour
Cedric Diggory
… and Harry Potter.