I apologize, but the last bit of this is kind of fluff. It's not my best, but I wanted to get this third chapter posted so I could post the fourth. Or start it, at least.

Disclaimer: the only character I own is Carrie. Everyone else is of J.K Rowling's doing.

Chapter 3:

The sun went down hours ago and only a few faint snores could be heard throughout the Burrow. Carrie lay in her cot, staring at the ceiling as she touched her lips as the thought of the brief moment she shared with Fred earlier that day flitted across her mind. Her heart felt heavy in her chest and it seemed like it was going to take ages for everyone to sleep in the Burrow tonight. It was almost as if they all wanted to catch her sneaking out.

She could hear Hermione and Ginny whispering in the bed Ginny shared with Hermione. A few nights ago, she could've sworn she heard kissing coming from underneath the thin blankets.

Will they ever shut the fuck up? She thought to herself. Or so she thought.

"What?" called Ginny quietly to her.

Carrie sat up in her bed. "I'm sorry. I didn't think I said that out loud. I can't take it anymore. I'm not going to wait until you guys go to sleep."

Hermione's tousled head sprang from underneath the blankets. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Ginny was right. I do leave in the middle of the night and I meet Oliver," she replied as she pulled on her jean shorts and black camisole. "Yes, Oliver Wood. I don't care anymore."

In the moonlight, the girls shared a look of puzzlement on their faces, but Carrie could care less. She had to see Oliver before she went out of her mind and did something completely off-hand and stupid.

She quietly opened the door and crept down the very loud and crooked stairs. Every other step, she stood still against the wall, waiting for someone to ask her what she was doing or where she was going, but the inquisition never came.

Finally, she reached the bottom of the stairs and before she reached the door, candlelight flickered in the corner.

"Just where do you think you're going?" asked Fred.

"You know where I am going and I don't think you can stop me," she replied, pulling on her trainers. She straightened up and brushed her long dark hair from her eyes. "I'm also going to bring him back here tonight. I don't think there is much you can do about that, now is there?"

Fred just stared at her in disbelief.

"What?" she asked.

"Aren't you going to ask?"

"What is there to ask about?" she replied.

"Earlier…" he said, trailing off. "Never mind. Go and continue on with your boyfriend, Oliver."

He snuffed out the candle between his thumb and forefinger and with less enthusiasm than normal, shuffled up the stairs.

Carrie shook her head and finally made her way out the front door. Once out, the cool, summer air hit her face and she could feel the air crackling with energy. Walking in the dark was natural to her now. The moon shone down on her and she followed the road half a mile west until she came to the marker, letting visitors know that Ottery St. Catchpole was such-and-such miles away.

After standing for a few minutes, Carrie finally heard a resounding POP! – which indicated Oliver had arrived. She fell against his warm embrace and never wanted to let him go.

"Hey, what's wrong?" asked Oliver, stroking her hair gently, just as he knew to do. He could sense the anxiousness in her hug and how she clung to him for dear life.

Without words, she passionately kissed him and everything rushed back to her- how she loved him for so long and how she knew she was going to miss late night common room meetings, squashed together in an armchair with arms flailing and her hair wild and tousled.

She felt his hands drift from her hair to her hips, where they rested comfortably. His kiss generated warmth that spread right down to her toes and to the tips of her hair.

Suddenly, Oliver pulled away. "Well, that was some welcome for someone who only saw me twenty-four hours ago."

Carrie bit her bottom lip coyly and knew exactly why she pushed herself so fiercely on him. However, she wasn't about to tell him that. Instead, she grabbed his hand and led him in the direction of the Burrow.

"Just exactly where are you taking me?" asked Oliver.

She only gave him a sly side-glance. She couldn't wait to lie next to him, to feel such emotion crackle between them. Tonight, just being next to him would be enough for her. Making love wasn't even in her mind; she just needed to be held so that their feelings could emanate throughout the house.

When they entered the house, it was dead silent. Nothing could be heard, not even a tick of a clock, which the Weasley house lacked, except for the one in which each Weasley name was inscribed and said where they were. Of course, it never ticked. Still holding hands, they made their way up the stairs and into the room she shared with Ginny and Hermione.

Once through the doorway, she felt her lung tighten with anxiety. Her mind suddenly was racing and her skin felt on fire with desire and passion. This is neither the time nor the place, she thought viciously. They fell back onto her cot, their hands grappling with the inhibition of their clothes while they kept their mouths occupied.

It struck her. We can't do this, she thought.

"What?" he asked, pulling his face away from hers.

"Oh…I didn't think I had said that aloud." Such was her excuse nowadays.

"You're right, though," he replied, as her slid off of her and lay next to her.

"I'm glad you see I'm right. I just don't want to disrespect Mrs. Weasley, you know? I mean, she feeds me and lets me stay here with her children and I couldn't do that."

"It's okay. I understand." He gazed into her face, shyly and adoringly.

Carrie wasn't voicing what she thought exactly, though. She didn't want to parade their love making in the Weasley house because it was where Fred resided and it would be a big laugh in his face if they went through with it. Carrie lost herself in thought and soon, sleepiness came through her and she felt herself drifting off to sleep…

Sunlight filtered in through the window under which Carrie's cot was placed. She felt warmth from the body next to her and realized why she had awoken in the first place.

"Oh, shit." Came a vaguely familiar voice. "Should we wake them or just shut the door so mum won't see?"

"Fuck it," came Fred's voice bitterly. "Let mum see. See what she does."

Heavy footsteps lumbered past the door and Carrie shot upright. She began to rouse Oliver almost violently. "Oliver! Oliver!" she cried in a hushed whisper.

"Mmm? Whasamatter?" he slurred his words together.

"You have to apparate home now!"

Suddenly, alert, Oliver looked nervously about the room. "NOW!"

With a faint POP! Oliver was gone from her bedside. Carrie sighed and pulled on her black hoodie. She shuffled down the stairs and caught sight of Fred on a stuffed arm chair.

"Sleep well?" he inquired maliciously.

"Shut the fuck up," she replied. His eyes widened, suddenly taken aback.

"Well, are all your things ready, children?" asked Mrs. Weasley as she came from the kitchen.

A resounding yes floated around the room. "Alright, well, we'll just be walking to the village and taking cabs to London."

As Mrs. Weasley spoke, it was as though her words bounced right off of Carrie. All she could focus on was Fred, who wanted her to get caught and get in trouble. Oh, this is going to be an eventful year, she thought.