Episode Two: Anger, Lies and Unspoken Owl's.

Dear Fred or George, (whichever one of you get this first . . .)

Something's happened that's caused me to have to leave home straight away. Don't worry though! It's nothing bad I promise, I just had to leave as soon as possible. Family business and all. It's complicated.

Anyway, I'm sending this really rushed note to you guys because for some reason, any time I give the owl a letter with the name Matthew Lewis-Thomson written on it, the stupid things doesn't want to deliver. . .

So Fred, George. . .whoever! I'm asking you as my best friends to pass this message onto Matthew when you see him okay? Tell him I'm fine and that he shouldn't worry himself. Please? Make sure he knows I'm safe. I know him, if he doesn't know where I've got to he'll have a heart attack. . .and we don't want that to happen do we? (Do we Fred? No messing with his head while I'm gone, you hear!)

I love you both!

Angie

P.S: Frederick Weasley, if you shove this letter in your pocket without delivering the message to Matthew first. . .I promise I will find you and hurt you!

P.S.S: Tell Matthew not to try and contract any of my family. . .because they'll only tell him I'm not there.

"Fred, George! Please, one of you. You've got to help me!"

Fred skimmed over the letter twice to himself before pushing it deep down into his pocket and sauntering out to the front of the shop. He couldn't help but surrender to the huge grin that plastered itself onto his face the moment his eyes took in Matthew snotty Lewis fart-brain Thomson. His hair stuck out in sections as if he had been pulling on it all day, and his face had paled over. His eyes wide with shock.

Fred never could see what Angelina saw in him.

"Something the matter mate?" Fred asked, the concern in his voice ever so hard to place.

From his seat behind the counter, George gave Fred a questioning look before turning back towards the frantic man before him. "What's wrong?" He asked through a somewhat bad attempt to stifle a yawn.

George was shattered.

Matthew pulled on a few of his locks because answering. Irritably he thumped his fists onto the shop counter and regarded the identical red heads before him. They were Angelina's best friends, if anyone was to know of her whereabouts it would most certainly be them. . .

"Sorry mate, I haven't heard from her since yesterday." Said Fred, running his hands though his hair.

"But you're her best friends!" Shrilled Matthew. "Surely you know where she's got to!"

George looked over at Fred, regarded his expression for a while then turned back to Matthew. His eyebrows drew together in deep thought. Twin instinct was kicking in. "Let me take you to the back, and er. . .we can have a chat over some nice coffee." George got up and walked briskly around the counter, steering Matthew into the back room. Before they left completely he shot Fred a weary look over his shoulder. Fred only shrugged, his hands buried deep into his pockets.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

"Are you stupid?" She shrilled, throwing her hands up into the air as she watched Montague step out of the bathroom. His clothes hastily thrown onto his still wet body. His hair hanging dark and damp. Angelina tried not to succumb to how incredibly sexy he looked right then.

Montague only shrugged. "Not really." He reached out to stroke her face but she hit his hand away before it could proceed. "Oh come on Johnson! You know you can't resist me."

"I so can!" She yelled, though her mind didn't quite match her spoken words. She averted her eyes to the ground, focusing hard on anything but him. Angelina knew that if she let her focus wander to his gaze, she'd be gone for good. His deep, dark thoughtful eyes always managed to swallow her whole. Always managed to read her thoughts and cause her to loose herself in it's teasing void of everlasting ecstasy.

She hated the bugger for always managing to get her so turned on!

"Look at me then." Montague once again reached out to touch her, his hands cupping her chin and steering her in his direction.

Before she met his gaze, Angelina took a few agitated steps backwards. Her eyes still focusing entirely on the floor. "Screw you!"

Montague took an excited step forwards and began to unbutton his shirt. "Finally!"

"No you idiot." Angelina jumped backwards at his approach, knowing she'd fall if she let him touch her. Any time he did she managed to ignite. "I'm mean screw you as in you're an ass whole!"

Montague sighed and stopped in his tracks. He looked almost miserable, and Angelina would have fallen for it if his latter choice of words didn't differ completely with his actions. "You never told me you liked it like that!"

Angelina looked up at Montague and for the first time in a long while, burst out laughing. Although Montague looked ever so bewildered, he still managed to grin at her reaction. "What?"

"I thought you were supposed to be a big boy?" She teased, sauntering over to him and walking her fingers playfully across his chest.

"I am!" Montague retaliated, feeling slightly perplexed. He tried to ignore how tight his trousers were becoming once again.

"Then why wont you let me go home! Listen, we'll make a deal okay?" Angelina cocked her head upwards and looked into Montague's eyes. So dark and full. He was so sexy!

"I'm listening." Montague didn't seem to blink. He was slowly hypnotizing her. She could feel herself giving in. . .

"Well, how about this. You take me home, and tomorrow you can have me all to yourself. How does that sound?"

"Like a load of shit." Reluctantly, Montague pushed away her hand and went to recline on one of the sofas in his richly decorated living room.

"What?" Angelina shrilled. "You HAVE to take me home! Matthew'll have a fit!"

Montague shrugged. "How many times have I told you? You're not his any more, you belong to me. I thought you of all people would understand that. I mean, aren't Gryffindors at least second dumbest after Hufflepuff?"

Angelina ignored the insult. "You basically kidnapped me!"

Montague sighed and closed his eyes. "Didn't know you were into role plays Johnson."

Angelina practically fumed. "I don't. . .I. . .you! Just let me go home and at least tell Matthew I can't come home."

"Why should I let you do that?" Montague asked, his eyes still closed.

"Because. . .because-"

"Because? That's all you've got to answer with?"

"NO!"

Montague stood up, once again walking over to Angelina and dominating her figure. "Then, how about we do it right here, right now. . .over and over and over again? Then, after that you can tell me why I should let you go. Or even better, whether you still want to. . ." A quirky smirk spread across Montague's lips. Quirky yet dangerous. He knew exactly what he was doing. Tauntingly he stroked his hand down Angelina's cheek and let it wander over her body. Angelina tingled where she was touched. She closed her eyes shut tight and tried to push him away.

"Montague, just stop. . ." Her voice trailed off as he kissed her neck. His lips travelling lightly over her skin. Angelina let out a sigh and found herself wrapping her arms around his neck. Montague did something that sounded somewhat like a purr, his hands groping at her sides and feeling over her skin. "Shit. . ." Angelina sighed and leaned her head back, allowing Montague to take control as he eagerly ate at her neck. Licking and biting softly enough for her to want more, but she knew he would leave marks for her to have to cover the coming morning. Montague always did.

Rather speedily, Montague lifted one of Angelina's legs and wrapped it around his waist, she let onto his message and lifted her other, wrapping it about his body. Slowly, Montague walked her over to a wall and pushed her back up against it, feeding at her neck all the while. "I told you you wanted me." He growled.

Angelina bit down on her bottom lip, wandering if she could possibly get anymore boiled over. "Fuck off." She said through hurried breaths as her fingers worked at Montague's shirt buttons. Montague sniggered.

"Bitch." He cursed, licking his way over her chin to find her mouth.

"Bastard." Angelina let his tongue warm its way into her mouth, opening it slightly for him to suck on her lips. Montague pushed his pelvis forwards slightly and she giggled. "Am I getting you hot?" She managed to say through Montague's hungry kisses.

"Yeah. . ." He breathed.

"You want me baby?" She teased.

Montague kissed his way down Angelina's body, his hands groping at her chest from under her top. "Oh fuck yes. . ." His reply was barely audible.

Angelina giggled. "Then let me the fuck out! NOW!" She kicked herself out of Montague's grip and fell to the floor. Getting up she fixed her clothes about her and tightened the knot in her belt on her house coat.

"JONHSON!" Montague fumed from the agony. He rubbed vigorously at his pants to try and get himself back down again. "I swear to God I'm going to-"

"Going to what? Huh Montague?" Angelina taunted. "Tell me because I'm oblivious."

"Stop fucking about with me for Merlin's sake bitch, just shag me already." Montague tried hard not to beg.

"No." Angelina crossed her hands over her chest and stubbornly looked away. "Go shag Parkinson-"

"I don't WANT Parkinson." He moaned. "You're a fucking nuisance."

"If I'm such a nuisance then let me go home!"

Montague ignored her. Instead of replying he walked briskly over to the front door, grabbed a long Jacket from the coat hanger and flung open the door.

"Where are you going!" Angelina shrilled, her hands clenched into small fists by her side.

"OUT!" He yelled, and slammed the door shut behind him. Angelina thought she might explode.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> M E A N W H I L E

Pansy Parkinson rummaged in Montague's bed side draw, papers, books and quills thrown about the floor in the bedroom they both shared in Montague's posh apartment flat in greater London. She had only moved in two weeks ago.

"I'm going to murder her first." Pansy muttered under her breath, her head stuck in a draw as she searched Montague's belongings, looking for anything that might tell her of his whereabouts. "Then," She hissed "I'm going to make him wish he'd never been born."

She rummaged in his draws for the next half an hour, but found nothing. Angrily she stamped around the room, screaming curses under her breath for everyone to hear.

Then it happened.

-DING-

Parkinson got an idea.

As soon as she had retrieved her wand, Pansy Apparated to Diagon Alley.