Chapter 6 - Fire Seeds

The sun had only been down for about half an hour when Ezra stepped out of the steamy Prefect's bath and into the hallway. He ran a hand over his damp hair, which fell freely over his forehead and temples with the absence of hair potion. Yes, he was feeling much better now.

The walk to the dungeons was long but not unpleasant, and he stopped for a moment outside of the common room door to savor his last few moments of solitude. No doubt Sabrina would be behind them, hanging on his every word and fussing, even though he had put her in jeopardy also….

His deep, almond-shaped eyes widened slightly with surprise at what he found instead. He took a few soft steps toward Daniella, slumped on the couch and very much asleep. This time, the smile inside of him spread all the way up to his face, and it had nothing to do with his sneaky intentions. He really fancied her, didn't he? How inconvenient in a situation like this….

"Were the beds not prepared to your liking?" He said, just loudly enough to retain the softness of his voice, with a smirk.

Daniella's dreams were strange and confusing, but that voice sounded far too close to be a dream. Slowly coming back to her senses, she noticed the fresh perfume first, and how much her neck ached a second later. Why was she sleeping all funny?

She opened her eyes. Ezra, the source of the perfume, was standing in front of her looking particularly delicious, his wet hair falling over his forehead, a suspicious smile on his face. Then, she remembered what had happened, why she'd stayed in the common room after everyone had gone to bed… waiting for him.

She sat up on the couch, rubbing her stiff neck, trying to remember what he'd said. She took a long sniff. Why did he smell like that? "Where were you?"

Ezra, still thoroughly amused, took the squishy armchair opposite the couch and slouched over with his elbows on his knees.

"I stopped in the Prefect's bath before coming in; I wasn't aware that I was… expected."

Daniella's hand stopped; she narrowed her eyes at him. She'd been feeling so ridiculously guilty in spite of what Madam Pomfrey had said, and he'd just been enjoying his stupid Prefect bath, after all! Jerk.

Refusing to let him bask in her frustration, she snorted a mocking laugh. "Well, if you mean Sabrina, yeah, she was here for a whole hour or so, but her beauty sleep couldn't wait any longer." She picked up her abandoned bag and stood with as much dignity as she could gather. "Anyway, I'm glad you're back to your smug self again," she said evenly. "You owe me a jar of fire seeds."

Ezra saw that she was about to leave, and he reacted instinctively; from a half-seated, half-poised position, he reached forward and gently – so gently! – wrapped his palm around her slender wrist.

"I didn't mean Sabrina," he murmured, his eyes flitting back and forth as they searched hers. "Please, stay a while."

It was more forward than he had ever been with a woman… in fact, it was the first time he had ever viewed anyone as a woman instead of a girl.

Dan's breath caught in her throat at his warm, light touch. She looked intently at the floor, trying to keep her emotions in check, but it proved more difficult than she'd expected. It was all a game, just a game; she couldn't lose control.

Her heart hammered against her chest as she forced herself to meet his eyes. Damn, he looked so irresistible right now! She lowered herself back into the couch, curiosity trampling caution.

Ezra released his gentle grip and reached into the pocket of his robes, digging around until he found what he was looking for: two wrapped, only slightly squished pumpkin pasties he had saved from the train ride the day before. He offered her one.

"Did you read any of the book?" He asked nonchalantly, unwrapping his and taking a small, cultured bite.

Daniella accepted the gift automatically, unwrapping it just to be busy. The simple activity made it easier to think. "Only a few of the poems." She offered him a small smile. "You were very accurate in your reciting. Who is it about?"

"Straight to the personal questions, then? If I answer, do I get to ask a question in return?" Ezra murmured, taking another bite of pasty. His tone was playful, but his eyes were serious.

Daniella studied him, then took a small bite of her pasty and chewed slowly. She didn't know what he had in mind, but then again, it wouldn't be any fun otherwise. "Maybe," she said noncommittally, but she was smiling now.

"It's not about anyone… yet," Ezra replied, giving her a small smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes only slightly. "But I do have my hopes." He paused momentarily, polishing off the sweet and then sucking his finger meticulously.

"Do you love him? Your muggle-born… friend."

Daniella couldn't look away now if she wanted. "Yes, I do." She said slowly, pausing to see his reaction and to make sure she wouldn't say anything that incriminated Jo. "He was the first friend I made here. He's still my best friend," she explained, emphasizing the last word.

Ezra fiddled with the edge of his robes, pondering this carefully worded answer. Friend.

"Are we also friends?" He asked softly, the smooth, low tone of his voice contrasting with the silence. The smirk was no longer present on his smooth, angular face.

Daniella pondered the question, his serious expression. She thought for a moment about confronting him, but it was too soon. She couldn't trust him. "It depends," she said just as seriously, just as softly. If only she could figure him out... "Is that what you want?" There was a hint of a smile on her lips now. "To be my friend?"

For the first time in a long time, Ezra felt the slightest twinge of heat rise in his cheeks.

"I -"

"Ezra?" A dissonant voice called down from the girls' hallway. "Is that you?" Sabrina, clothed only in a green silk nightgown that fell freely to her knees, came padding barefoot into the common room. "I'm so glad you're alright."

Ezra looked her over, resisting the urge to grimace, and smiled politely instead.

"Thank you. Forgive me for worrying you." There was silence for several moments, and he rose from the armchair. He turned to Daniella, looking to the side rather than at her face.

"Excuse me."

Daniella looked over her shoulder at the pale girl standing there like an annoying ghost, anger and distrust etched in her features. She raised an eyebrow at Ezra's reaction and change in his demeanor. It was like the light in his eyes had been dimmed suddenly. It made her even angrier, and she opened her mouth, but the protest died before it started.

It was disappointing. He wasn't happy to see Sabrina, but he'd still jumped out of the armchair as if there was a blast-ended skrewt on it. She stood as well, miffed. She picked up her bag and stormed off to her dorm.

When she passed by Sabrina, she turned slightly. "Yeah. We're so glad you're alright," she said mocking Lady Bored's monotone voice. "Goodnight."

-/-/-

Pokey the house-elf was on a mission, and it was proving to be very difficult. She cradled the jar in her thin, long-fingered hands, waiting for the perfect moment. Young Master had given her specific instructions not to deliver the gift while the Bored Mistress was there. The others were fine, Young Master had said; but not her. And she was very, very lazy.

Eventually, though, she rose and gathered her things to have her morning soak in the Prefect's bath, and Pokey sighed in relief. She became visible.

"Mistress Daniella!" Pokey squeaked, half-jumping, half-hovering onto the edge of Dan's bed. "Mistress, please wake up!"

Daniella woke up suddenly, startled. "What…?" She looked around, searching for her wand, trying to figure out what had woken her up. The bedroom was empty, but something kept pulling at her covers.

She looked at the tiny house-elf hovering there and rubbed her eyes, perplexed. "Who are you?" She'd snuck into Hogwarts' kitchens a couple times before, and that elf clearly wasn't from Hogwarts. "What are you doing here?"

"My name is Pokey," the elf replied dutifully. "Young Master Ezra sent me here with a delivery for you."

She held out the large, weighty jar at arm's length, clearly struggling to keep it suspended. It was full of fire seeds of the highest quality.

"Young Master also told me to give you the message. He says: I hope this is enough."

Daniella looked from the elf's expectant eyes face to the jar, then back at the elf. Ezra's house-elf. "He didn't…" She whispered, shaking her head. She took the jar, opened it and peeked inside. It contained real fire seeds, a lot more than she could use in the school year. A smile slowly spread across her face, until it became an amused grin. "He actually did."

Pokey was still staring at her, probably taking note of her reaction to tell her Master. She composed a solemn face. "Thank you, Pokey. And…" she pondered for a moment. "Tell your Master it is indeed enough. I can even share a couple, if they're needed."

Pokey nodded definitively, her large head bobbing with such force that she had to hold out her arms to maintain her balance.

"I will give the Young Master your message and tell him that you enjoyed your gift." She bowed as valiantly as she could manage, which was not very much aside from the good effort, and disappeared with a sharp crack and a puff of smoke.

"Yeah, you do that…" Daniella sighed, after Pokey disappeared. "Give him more ideas than he already has."

She spun the jar in her hands, thinking of what that gesture might mean. She couldn't reconcile the Ezra that she had known for six years, the Ezra that smiled politely, indulging girls like Sabrina in their every whim, the Ezra that saw himself as superior to the rest of world, and this exciting Ezra that was trying – a little desperately, which was adorable in a weird way – to get closer to her, confident and intense.

She looked at the clock on the wall, cursing under her breath. She was going to be late for class. She jumped out of bed, hurrying to get ready.

-/-/-

A few weeks later

Jo felt slightly weird without his robes and badge on, but he tried to give himself a confident smile in the mirror. It fell slightly flat, looking more like a shy lip twitch. Merlin's beard, he was so nervous.

Of course, he had not formally asked Noah to Hogsmeade, and Noah had not formally asked him… but they would meet for a butterbeer, he was sure of it. And maybe, if he hung around the steps long enough, he would be able to catch a glimpse of him and Noah would call him over….

With this thought in mind, Josiah stashed his wand in his pocket and hurried down the stairs.

Noah had planned to gather the whole team today in Hogsmeade. The first game was next week and they were all excited and determined to start the season with a win, but he wanted to make sure everyone was getting along well.

Their new keeper was very promising, but the fifth year boy was still a little awkward around them, and that was, in Noah's opinion, a bad sign. So, gotten the boy personally and taken him to the gates to meet with the rest of them, and the loud group headed towards the Three Broomsticks.

But now, after a couple hours of pep-talks and fooling around in the village, he was craving peace and quiet. Shawn, his best friend, elbowed him. "Our captain is awfully quiet today! Don't worry, Noah, we'll hunt some Slytherins for you next week!" he gave Noah a teasing push. The rest of the group cheered. "We should take him to Zonko's for a good laugh!"

Noah grinned at them. "I'm sure you will, but I'll be the one sending them to Madam Pomfrey!" He looked around, proud of his group. But he still wanted peace and quiet right now. "You guys go ahead. Make our nervous keeper laugh, he needs it the most. I'll stay a while and meet you later."

They teased him, as he knew they would, but proceeded along the path.

Anna stayed behind, and now approached Noah, studying him curiously. "Is something the matter?" As Noah gave her nothing but a puzzled look, she insisted, resting a hand on his forearm. "You've been different, these past few weeks..."

Noah shook his head and rested his hand on top of hers, but didn't quite meet her eyes. "Thank you, but I'm fine. Just anxious. You know how much this game means to me." He gave her a reassuring smile. "Go ahead, Anna. I'll catch up with you later."

She didn't look convinced, but shrugged and followed the others, leaving Noah alone with his troubling thoughts.

Josiah saw the Gryffindor team pass him by, then turned around to see Noah, alone, walking along the path.

"Hey," he called rather breathlessly with a smile. "I thought you guys were going together?"

Noah looked over at the call. He stopped, waiting for Josiah to catch up with him, a lopsided grin on his face before he realized it. "Hey! Hmm, we did. But now I just needed to be able to hear my own thoughts for a while. And they're probably tired of my speeches by now," he shrugged sheepishly. "They'll be fine by themselves for a while."

The air was brisk, a clear sign that the sunny days were over. He slipped his hands into his pockets as he studied Josiah. "I was going for a butterbeer. Do you want to come?"

"Sure," Josiah agreed, relishing the feel of the cool wind against his slightly pink cheeks. He looked over at Noah to find that Noah was looking at him, and he half-smiled and looked away again.

"Hey, did you bring me a button?" He asked with mock-disappointment. "How am I going to support Gryffindor properly if I don't have one?"

Noah felt his ears warming up at Jo's – Josiah, he scolded himself – question. His fingers touched the cold metal in his pocket. He'd had the button for a couple of weeks, actually, but he had felt awkward at the thought of giving it to Josiah in the middle of a Charms class, in front of everyone, and they hadn't had much time to hang out otherwise. So, he'd carried it with him, hoping the right opportunity would present itself.

"Oh!" He said, as if he'd just thought of it – the heat in his ears intensified. He took the shiny red and gold button out of his pocket, holding it up in his open palm. "Yeah, I did promise, after all. Are you sure you want to wear it?"

Jo grinned, taking the button gratefully and fiddling with it for a moment before pinning it carefully to his sweater. They passed by a bakery and the smell of warm pastries and delicious sweets was already wafting toward them. Josiah's stomach growled, and he flushed a delicate pink.

"Well, if you don't want me to wear it," he teased, lowering his hands into his pockets. "But I really rather like it. I think I'll keep it on all day."

They reached the Three Broomsticks, and Jo pushed the door open.

Noah wasn't sure it was humanly possible to be upset around Josiah for too long. "You can keep it, then."

He braced a hand on the door, entering the warm pub after Josiah, then closed it behind him. There were a lot of students gathered there, but most of them were younger. He didn't see any seventh year Gryffindors.

"I'll get us something to drink, if you find us a table," he said lightly. He found a free space at the counter, squeezed himself between a few third years and an old, angry looking wizard, and ordered two butterbeers.

He had never been the kind of guy to ponder for too long about… well, about anything other than Quidditch, really. But lately, he found himself thinking of a whole lot of very different things. And, in those moments, he grew tired of his loud housemates, especially because they were starting to notice and tease him about his long silences.

Josiah didn't tease him, though. He didn't even complain about Noah's obsession for Quidditch. He shook himself at that wandering thought. He paid for the butterbeers, took the bottles and walked over to where Josiah was sitting, handing him one and sitting across the table.

Jo took the proffered butterbeer and sipped at the rim, smiling at the warm taste and wiping some foam off of his lips with his free hand. He grinned without reason, looking off to the side. He wasn't sure that this village could be any more enchanting than it was today.

"So," he said, trying to keep the conversation going. "Tell me about you. What kinds of things do you like? Other than Quidditch, of course," he added with another amused sip.

"Other than Quidditch? Uh… Flying?" Noah chuckled with embarrassment. "I'm a pretty single-minded guy," he added sheepishly. "I love sports in general, though, even Muggle sports. But flying… feeling the wind against my face, the ground racing up to meet me… I love that rush," he explained with a dreamy grin.

He pondered for a moment. "I suppose I like pretty much anything that gives me a rush," his eyes met Josiah's then; he quickly looked away. He must think I'm an idiot, now, he thought grimly, so he added, "I pretty decent with machines and mechanics. I like to work on my bike."

Josiah listened dutifully, nodding and draining his butterbeer all the while.

"Do you like boats?" He asked randomly, tracing thoughtless patterns against the bottle with his finger. "Ever since I was young, I've loved being out on a lake right before a thunderstorm. You know, when it's properly windy," he laughed at his own words as though this was preposterous. "Gives me a rush." He was silent for a moment, thinking, then he smiled again.

"In a lot of ways I think that getting out and participating is a lot better than just reading about something, but I'm usually too shy to do that."

"I've never been on a boat, but you make it sound like the kind of thing I'd love to do. Does your family have one?"

He took another sip, pondering Josiah's last words. "Being out on a boat before a storm doesn't sound shy to me at all. What would you like to try and never had the courage to do?"

Josiah blushed a little at this, suddenly aware that he very rarely talked about his family background to anyone except Dan.

"My father is a fisherman," he explained. "He had his heart set on me being a fisherman after him, I think," he added with a chuckle. "I tried to explain the wizarding concept of Healing to him but I'm pretty sure he still thinks I'm just going to something like Muggle medical school."

He pondered Noah's question then, realizing that he hadn't thought of any particular examples when he had spoken before. He thought about it now, brows knitting just a fraction of an inch.

"Riding a broomstick, I suppose," he murmured, feeling embarrassed at this revelation. "Not for Quidditch, just in general… during our introductory Flying lesson, I broke out crying."

He giggled at this, his face turning a little red. "I expect that sounds ridiculous to you, but I've always found it a little terrifying."

Noah's grin was understanding. "I know what you mean. My grandma still asks me if I'm going to college. My mother says she used to harass her twice as much about it, when she was my age, so I should feel grateful."

"It's not ridiculous," he said seriously. "But you shouldn't give up because of a first bad experience." He hesitated before saying the next words. "I could teach you…"

Josiah looked into Noah's eyes, then smiled warmly as he teased a little. "If you find any free time outside of your classes and Quidditch practices, I'll allow that."

He examined his empty butterbeer, wondering if it was its previous contents that were giving him the inexplicable warm feeling he now felt, or if that was something else….

"So," he began again, although he wasn't completely sure what to say. "Um, thank you for the drink. And the button. I suppose I'm being selfish, keeping you from your lovely teammates for so long."

"I'll make time," Noah said, then frowned a little, and added, "after the game."

He looked down at his own bottle, feeling like he was awaking from a weird, but good dream. Reality was calling for him. "Yeah…" He said, fiddling with the bottle. He huffed out a breath. "Yeah, I should find them, before they eat too many candies and get sick before the game." He pushed the bottle away. "Thanks for being selfish," he smirked teasingly. "And don't let them hear you calling them lovely. They may just become even louder to prove you wrong!"

-/-/-

Ezra adjusted his arm as slightly as he could. Sabrina was clinging to it rather tightly, and they both looked up at the Shrieking Shack with relative disinterest.

"I thought it would be scarier," Sabrina murmured lowly as she attempted to cut off Ezra's circulation. He offered a pensive hum in reply.

The crisp autumn wind whipped at them for a few brief moments, and some dry leaves crackled across the street around them.

"Ah," Ezra said, as though he had just remembered something important. "I was going to buy a new set of quills. The butterbeer will have to wait, I fear. Permit me to catch up with you in an hour or two?" Sabrina knitted her brows slightly, but nodded and said nothing.

"I'll miss you," she said flatly, and he watched her walk away.

Daniella walked out of Zonko's and into the brisk wind, unwrapping a Sugar Quill as she made her way up the street, not sure what to do with herself. Usually she would just hang out with Jo, but today she was bored, bored, bored. Maybe she could explore the Shrieking Shack… She already knew the rest of the village quite well, after all.

Turning in that direction and stuffing the Quill into her mouth, she looked up… and stopped in her tracks. She narrowed her eyes just a fraction. "Aren't you missing something?" She asked loudly enough so that Ezra could hear her. "Or someone?"

Ezra looked back at her with an unreadable expression, then raised one eyebrow.

"Not anymore, it would seem." He turned back to the derelict house and moved his hand around a few times, attempting to regain feeling into it. "The restless spirits appear to be out for the weekend."

Daniella offered a teasing smile. "Maybe you scared them away." She walked over to the fence, looking at the decrepit building. "Maybe we should go inside and hunt them down." She turned her head to look at Ezra. "Unless Lady Bored is waiting. You wouldn't want to make her unhappy, would you?"

Ezra made no indication that he heard her suggestion, but he took his wand out of his pocket and pointed it at the locked, boarded front door. His face was a mask of concentration, and he swished his wand greatly.

"No use," he murmured, stowing it away again with a wry smile. "It's been very well protected. May I interest you in a drink instead? In the Hog's Head, should you wish to avoid Lady Bored. I believe she is waiting in the Three Broomsticks to ambush me again."

Daniella was a little disappointed at not being able to check the abandoned building, but she gave Ezra an approving smile. "The Hog's Head sounds perfect, then!" Especially now that he looked more like the intense, dangerous Ezra, instead of that dimmed version that paraded around attached to Sabrina.

She finished her Quill and slipped her now freezing hand into her pocket, starting back down the street to the dirty looking pub.

"Do you actually like her?" She asked after a while, looking sideways at him. "Do you have fun with her?"

"Sabrina?" Ezra murmured offhandedly, taking a moment to examine his short and well-manicured fingernails. "We grew up together." It was neither negative nor affirmative, and he thought this was the safest option.

"You should understand the concept of being surrounded by people you do not necessarily care for."

"Oh, I do understand it very well," Daniella said in a low, serious voice. "I understand the role that is expected we assume. I also understand how much it costs, sometimes," or how hard it can be to oppose it, she added to herself. She stopped in front of the door to the Hog's Head and searched his eyes, a defiant light in hers. "And I don't care. I'll fight as hard as I can to make my own decisions."

How much it costs. Ezra repeated those words in his mind, and looked away at this hand, which was resting on the doorknob.

"Being here with me, then," he said quietly before looking up at her once more. "Is your decision?" He pushed the door open a few cracks and the heat drifted out to meet them.

That was a dangerous move, Ezra, Daniella thought. She stepped forward and pushed the rest of the door open. "Yes, it is." When they were inside, she asked quietly, "Is it yours as well?" She wasn't sure she wanted the answer to that question, though.

Ezra gave her one of his trademark smirks, following her into the small, rather shady looking building.

"Just because I'm more bound to tradition than you doesn't mean I am… easily led." He paused for a moment, offering to take her coat. "For the record, that means yes."

Daniella looked at his outstretched hand. Bound to traditions? She wondered if it wasn't more of a shield for him. She couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to see what was he was hiding so fiercely behind that shield. "That is a relief," she said, teasingly, reminding herself she couldn't trust him. "There is hope for you, still."

She took off her coat and handed it to him. "So, what can we drink in this place?"

Something about her words tugged at Ezra, like an invisible crackle of electricity between them that he couldn't look away from. His lips twitched into more of a smile and less of a smirk.

"Only the absolute finest firewhiskey in Wizarding England," he replied, shedding his coat and hanging them both on the rack behind the booth that he motioned to. "The first one is on me. I'll even go to the effort of sanitizing your mug." He paused, raising a curious eyebrow.

"Unless you are morally opposed to the consumption of hard liquor."

"Not at all! Firewhiskey is fine, especially in a clean mug." She sat and remained silent until their drinks arrived and the bartender walked away again. She took a generous gulp, relishing the burning sensation. "You still owe me an answer." She looked at him, the smirk on her face now sneaky. "Remember?"

Ezra slid into the booth, taking a long, deep swig of the firewhiskey. The mugs here were much smaller, which might have been a small blessing; if they were any larger, he still probably wouldn't have felt any need for restraint. Daniella was right. Forcing himself to stay by Sabrina's side because of his parents' fondness of her took a deep toll on him.

He blinked exaggeratedly and exhaled before sipping again. The burn at the back of his throat was marvelous.

"I haven't the foggiest what you mean," he lied transparently.

Daniella smiled into her mug. She took her time swirling the liquid and taking another drink, nearly emptying it. A barmaid quickly came to refill their mugs. She was curious about what his answer would be – very curious to see how far she could tease him, and how much of a real reaction she could get out of him – but she wasn't about to look desperate.

"You asked me if we were friends," she said at last. Her fingers closed more tightly around the mug as she locked eyes on his. "And I asked if that's what you wanted. To be my friend."

"Ah, yes, I remember now," Ezra murmured, returning her smile. "Yes… I remember, and I'm still not drunk enough to answer. Excuse me." He took another long swig, then rubbed at his watery eye.

"You are quite persistent," he noted, drumming his fingers absentmindedly on the edge of the table. "Often I rather think that is one of your most… infuriating, feverishly attractive qualities. Your persistence."

Daniella huffed with mock-outrage. "Not drunk enough?!" She shook her head. "Aren't you charming?"

She drank again, just to hide the pleased smirk at the compliment. Dangerous. This was such a dangerous game, but she couldn't bring herself to stop. "Good chess players need persistence, as well as patience. And I can be very patient."

Ezra snorted into his mug, his first slip-up of decorum signifying that his inhibitions were slowly waning. He laughed openly, a smooth, well-measured chuckle that barely befitted a properly-raised pureblood boy.

"Quite," he agreed with her sentiment. The pub was strangely warmer now, and he reached up his free hand to pull the crisp collar of his shirt away from his pink-flushed neck. He raised a single hand into the air, and the short, pudgy barmaid came to refill their mugs again. He sipped.

"A good chess player is also decisive," he murmured, searching her eyes with his own.

Daniella blinked, mesmerized by the change in his face when he laughed; by the sound of it. It gave her butterflies. His lips looked so red and inviting… She licked her lips, then took another long sip of the mug before remembering it wouldn't help cool down the heat burning inside her at all. But now that his defenses were starting to tumble down, she couldn't help exploring a little further.

"True," she said softly as she put the mug back down and leaned forward a little. He was close enough that she could breathe in his perfume when he moved. It wasn't close enough. "When the time is right. A move made too early might ruin everything."

Ezra looked down at his mug, which had so little remaining that it was pointless to waste the effort to lift it into his mouth. He rested his chin on a folded hand, his relaxed, deep brown eyes lingering on her… the beautiful, exciting, persistent woman that was Daniella Hawke.

"Follow me," he murmured, although the bite of order in his voice was no longer present. He reached over to grab their jackets, holding hers outstretched. "I want to show you something."

Daniella eyed him curiously as she took her jacket and slipped into it, feeling way too warm in it. The room swayed a little when she got on her feet. She kept a hand braced against the table; she hadn't realized how strongly the firewhiskey had hit her. Maybe she shouldn't have drunk on a nearly empty stomach.

When everything stopped spinning, she followed Ezra out of the pub. The brisk air helped her regain enough of her senses to realize what he had in mind, but not enough to make her finally use common sense. The voice that told her to stop, that this was madness, was far in the back of her mind, so easy to ignore.

She looked at both sides of the street, which was deserted for the time being. "Where are we going?"

Ezra led her into a small courtyard between Honeyduke's and Gladrags Wizardwear, stopping in front of a bubbling multi-tiered fountain and breathing in the crisp air. He grabbed her arm gently to steady her as well as himself. Then, after making sure nobody was watching them, he pulled down one of the wings of the fountain's cherubs. A small trapdoor opened a few meters away, and he gave her a mischievous look.

"Lumos," he said as evenly as he could manage, although he knew he was probably slurring. His wand lit to life, and an underground stairwell came into view. "Ladies first."

Daniella took in a few deep breaths, the coolness of the air contrasting with the heat in her chest, making a shiver run down her spine. She gave the fountain a puzzled look, until the trapdoor opened. A secret passage to Hogwarts! Her clear laughter filled the air. "Ezra, you are a rebel, after all!"

His wand only lit the first few steps, but she took her own and lit it as she ventured further down the stairs.

Ezra followed her down the stairs with a lopsided grin plastered onto his face. The trapdoor snapped shut behind him, and he shook the light off of the end of his wand with a flick of his wrist. It bounced off of the tip and floated to the low ceiling, hanging there like a perfectly spherical lamp.

"I have my moments," he murmured, realizing that he was very close to her once again. This time, he would not shy away. He leaned forward, pressing his face gently into the back of her long, flowing hair. He inhaled deeply. It was exquisite.

"I want to be more than your friend," he whispered into her ear, brushing the top of it with his lips.

Daniella nearly dropped her wand. The feel of his breath against her skin sent an electric shock sizzling through her nerves. She leaned her head a little to the side, closing her eyes for a second.

"Oh, really?" She asked, more than a little breathless. He was so close now she could feel his body lightly pressing against hers. It still wasn't close enough. She turned around to face him. She licked her lips, watching his. "I hadn't noticed," she whispered back with mocking seriousness.

This was crazy! She was playing with fire. She lingered there for a few heartbeats, struggling with that stupid little voice in her head. Finally, with an urgent exhale, she grabbed the front of his jacket and pulled him closer the rest of the way, kissing him at last, closing her fingers on his hair.

Ezra was by no means an innocent virgin, and he considered himself relatively adept at matters of passion, even at the tender age of 17. In that moment, however - within that fiercely vibrant firewhiskey kiss - all of his repressed feelings of lust, of desire, of need for something greater, came bubbling forth. The burning permeated every pore, and he leaned in and kissed her more hungrily.

"I don't suppose I could trouble you to off with my trousers," he mumbled drunkenly, grinning into her with closed eyes. "I haven't quite got the coordination for it, if you must know."

Daniella's brain had fled for a while. As far as she was concerned, the entire world could go to hell, as long as she could keep kissing him. But that damned voice in her head became stronger when they broke apart momentarily. Breathing heavily, she forced her hands open on his chest, pushing him not very gently back against the wall. Bits of dirt crumbled off of the wall around him.

She closed her eyes, not willing to let go just yet. But she had to. She had to. She didn't trust him, couldn't trust him. "No…" she managed to say, almost pleading with herself. "Not here…"

Ezra exhaled slowly, the heat in his body settling, stagnating. He had never been rejected in the moment before, so vulnerable, so sure. It hurt. The pain was a breath of fresh air. He straightened himself, then smirked, although it was more of a wistful half-smile.

"My offer awaits your invitation," he murmured. "I'll be excused."

Daniella's hand closed to a loose fist on his jacket, frustration and desire warring inside of her. "If only I saw that fire in your eyes when you're sober," she murmured quietly. The slight physical distance helped her regain some of her senses. She reluctantly withdrew her hand. She wasn't entirely sure if she wanted to hit him or kiss him again.

She forced herself to take a step back. "I'll see myself to the castle," she murmured, not quite able to look him in the eyes. "You have your own obligations to attend to."