Author's Note: Chapter Three! Also! Don't do drugs, children. Haha.

There were no pleasantries or prolonged attempts at smalltalk. There was only the door closing behind us, as Nott took me by the hand and whisked me into one of the broom closets. It was a tight space, with barely enough room to stand let alone lose one's virginity, but I digress. I hurriedly charmed the door and then the walls, unbeknownst to how any of this came to be and how on earth I'd gone from dodging Cormac McLaggen at Slughorn's Christmas party, to being ravished in a broom closet by Theodore Nott.

Hold on.

I should explain how this happened.

Rewind!

It started the moment I arrived at the party; regrettably, with McLaggen. I had originally planned to attend with Ron, but those plans were no more seeing as he preferred to shit all over our friendship (and our feelings) by parading around the castle with Lavender-fucking-Brown. Because of this, I had no choice but to invite McLaggen, even though I couldn't stand being around him for more than two seconds at a time. Since, you know, it took him two seconds to open his mouth and attempt to plant it directly on mine.

Cringe.

I tried hiding in one of the curtained alcoves with Harry. I tried standing idle over a conversation between two enormous wizards, hoping they would block me. I even tried talking to Daphne Greengrass in the ladies' room, one of the more tolerable Slytherin girls, about her date and how he'd been ignoring her all evening.

But the predator that was Cormac McLaggen found me every single time.

It was beginning to feel like this was a practical joke, and that Ron had arranged for Cormac to be a right prick in order to get back at me for kissing Krum over two years ago. But that can't have been the case. Because those two buffoons hated one another on a deep, spiritual level. It was almost laughable. I distantly wondered what would have happened, had I not used the Confundus Charm on Cormac during Quidditch try-outs.

Ron would not have made the team and would never have mustered the confidence to pursue Lavender Brown, even with her incessant flirting. Our friendship would have been in perfect, maybe pristine condition, and we would still have been patrol partners.

It was then, rather suddenly, that I noticed someone else at the party.

Daphne Greengrass and Blaise Zabini were with him, and the two of them were arguing about the reason she had been so upset in the loo. It was quite entertaining, to be honest. I watched with surprising interest, as the pair fired insults back and forth, and then, as they moved to what I assumed was a more private location; to do what, I hadn't the slightest idea.

I focused on something else — rather, someone else.

I had never seen him like this before, dressed in a set of midnight blue dress robes that accented his eyes, hair and complexion. It went without saying that he was attractive, but I couldn't place a finger on what about him intrigued me most. It was a draw between his inattention to blood status and his messily coiffed hair; the latter of which looked rather touchable that night. Not to mention those cheekbones. It was like River Phoenix had been reincarnated in the guise of a pure-blood Slytherin wizard — drugs and all.

Too soon? Too soon.

Regardless, it took a full fifteen minutes before I realized this particular young man had noticed my desirous stare. I could have sworn I saw him wink.

The nerve.

But it was no matter, because I soon winked back and watched as the smirk left his lips. It was unbelievably satisfying; though not nearly as satisfying as the uninhibited look in his eyes.

By then, we were seasoned 'marijuana mates' but never in the three nights that I had spent getting high in the dungeons with Theodore Nott, had he shown even the slightest bit of attraction towards me. It was usually him teasing me about the trivialities in my nonexistent love life, or asking about Muggle music he found 'cool'. I figured, rather naively, that a lad wasn't interested unless he a) asked you out or b) behaved in an immature, wildly jealous manner.

Because, let's face it, those were the only things I had ever experienced.

But he was rather subtle in his approach, probably testing the waters to see if I was interested or even ready for something. I knew right then that I had neither the time nor patience for a relationship; what with the war and final exams and everything else that drained my life source.

Luckily, it wasn't a relationship with him that I wanted, and I could now see that my wink had driven this point home. I breathed in and collected as much air as my lungs would allow, before making a swift and discreet exit from the festivities. The voice of reason inside my head wasn't shouting objections like it had the night I was introduced to weed. It was rather quiet, to be perfectly honest.

There were no students in the corridors — nor teachers.

Just us.

I could hear him a few steps behind me, perhaps waiting for me to turn around and do something. But I didn't. I walked one step after another and unraveled the ribbon that held my hair together.

It hindsight, I should probably have prepared better by wearing knickers that were at the very least, a little flattering to my arse shape or a bra that gave me the lift I needed, but he didn't appear to care about the state of my knickers, only that they came off.

Fast Forward!

It was good thinking that I had used the silencing charm, or our cover would surely have been blown. I moaned breathlessly, as he brushed his lips against mine and pressed our bodies together. It wasn't entirely his fault for being so bold, seeing as there wasn't enough room to beat around the bush. Besides, I liked this side to him. I liked being locked in a broom closet with Theodore Nott kissing me from lips to neck. I especially liked being able to run my fingers through his hair and over his surprisingly toned arms. I figured it was a result of carrying books from the library to the Slytherin dungeons for six years. Merlin knew he wasn't into sport like the other lads.

I can't believe I forgot to mention!

Nott was a massive nerd, and brilliantly unapologetic about it. I daydreamed about revising with him. It was that bad.

But in that moment, there wasn't a single fibre in my being that wished to hit the books with him. Not then. Because then, I made quick work of the buttons that ran down his shirt, revealing to me a torso that was thin without being skeletal and hard in all the right places. I felt that torso press up against mine, coaxing another moan from me, deeper this time.

"Granger," he spoke, in a voice that transitioned swiftly from want to need.

I could easily have lost it right then and there. It was that good. But he carried on and kissed me down my front, slowly unzipping my dress from behind. I paused for a moment and felt a touch of nervousness, seeing as this marked the first time anyone had seen me unclothed since I was a toddler. It dawned on me hard and fast that I didn't care, and the nervousness in my bloodstream was soon eclipsed by the look in Nott's eyes as he devoured me head to toe.

Have mercy. (Bonus points to any Muggles who read that in Uncle Jesse's voice).

The rest, as they say, is history.

In case anyone is curious, he was a complete gentleman from start to finish — and years later I still think about him and the manner in which he disentangled the knot that inhibited me with so much ease. I didn't hold back with Nott, because I didn't have to.

Parts of me craved him long after that night, but I couldn't pursue him. It wasn't about Ron. It was about the impending conflict that everyone apart from the Order had been trying so hard to avoid.

There was a war.

…and there was no amount of revision that could have prepared me for the next year.