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47

A STUDY OF STARS

MUSICAL MOOD :

LAUREN CIMORELLI - MUSTANG

"I got you, Woodley."

I was on edge.

My entire body felt tense and awkward as I tried to move through the crowd like I actually wanted to be here, anxious and overwhelmed while everybody around me was dancing to *NSYNC. I had stupidly thought that this would be easier. That someone would just pull me aside and tell me to hand over the potion. I hadn't even considered that I'd be at an illegal party with an illegal potion in my bag, risking my entire future.

I took a breath, but the attempt was smothered by the cocktail of sensory overstimulation, making my head spin faster. It felt like people were looking at me. Not in a casual way but like they all knew that I was hiding something. That all of their worst assumptions about me had been true after all.

That Woodley girl.

"Seth?"

I snapped around, clutching my bag to my side like an old lady in the supermarket. Mother of Merlin, I was the un-smoothest criminal in the world.

Vala frowned at me, but she didn't comment on my strange behaviour; like she didn't even want to know what the hell I was doing.

"Hey," I said weirdly, still clinging to my bag like it was going to save me from the awkwardness. Vala and I hadn't talked in a while and I didn't quite know how to act around her.

There had been moments this year when I had felt closer to her. We understood things about each other that no one else ever would - fundamental things that had shaped us, long before we had slotted ourselves into our Hogwarts lives. But it had been a fragile thing that cracked easily. Especially when it was built around a tangle of lies.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" I said over the quirky chorus of some S Club 7 song before I could stop myself. Because, even though I was supposed to focus on a potentially catastrophic illegal potions transaction, I couldn't just stand there and act as though nothing was wrong. I had considered it for a moment; to pretend that I didn't know, so she could pretend that it didn't really matter and we could have just never mentioned it again, like true Woodleys. Unfortunately, I had always been terrible at this game.

"What?" Vala's frown intensified. Obviously, my cousin was the superior Woodley.

"About Athena?" I shifted my weight, bracing against the occasional shoulders that bumped into me. Strategically, I probably could have chosen a better time and place to have this conversation, but I was anxious and nervous and so tired of secrets. "You knew it was her, didn't you? The bathroom thing and the Pustula."

It had taken me embarrassingly long to piece it all together but, in my defence, I'd had quite a few things on my plate lately. Only after Athena's semi-confession had I realised it - that Vala must have known. That her vague admonitions about being careful and staying away from the Potter boys had not just been general cautions but very specific warnings.

Vala pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and narrowed her dark eyes at me in that very scary way that reminded me of our grandmother. "I told you to be careful, didn't I?"

She didn't ask how I had figured it out, like it barely even mattered.

"You could have been more specific."

"I didn't want Demi to know that I blabbed." She gave me a strange look, almost concerned, but then rolled her eyes as though I was overreacting. Maybe I was. Vala didn't owe me anything. We weren't friends; of course her loyalties would lie somewhere else.

Still, the realisation stung a little.

"I didn't think Athena would be mental enough to poison you," she said, her voice sounding like the verbal equivalent to an eye roll. "Not after the whole mess with Albus Potter."

I blinked at her as the words sank in, sluggishly reshaping some of the more stubborn puzzle pieces in my mind until they fell into place.

"The love potion wasn't meant for Albus." It wasn't a question. I wasn't asking her.

Because I already knew.

Because it weirdly made sense. All of it made so much more sense: the lack of romantic exuberance, the vagueness of it all, that neither Albus nor James had seemed drugged at first.

All this time, I hadn't even considered anything other than a classic love potion; the kind that was tethered to one specific person and equally dramatic in its effects. But there were other, more subtle potions as well: substances that built on feelings that already existed rather than creating new ones - friendship, infatuation, or even just basic physical attraction - warping them into love.

Of course, this might have seemed more romantic to Athena - more natural. James had already liked her, hadn't he? They probably had been sleeping together for a while; all he'd needed had been a little magical push, a little bit of potion in his butterbeer to make him fall all the way. She just hadn't considered that even magically enhanced feelings could change.

"I can't believe this," I said as someone's shoulder ploughed into mine and I staggered backwards like I had been hit by a bullet. It felt like it, too. "Why wouldn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know, OK?" Vala lifted her arm, like she was about to reach out to me, but I took another step backwards and she dropped it again. "I don't think even Athena realised she'd poisoned the wrong Potter until Albus practically dry-humped you in the Three Broomsticks."

I remembered the hug; the slightly glazed expression on Albus's face as his arms had slid around me. He'd already been poisoned, then, before his infatuation had shifted to Laura Valenti, contorting into an obsession-like thing until the magic had collapsed.

Albus had been nothing but collateral damage.

I had been nothing but collateral damage.

"Seth?"

I barely registered Vala's voice or her hand around my wrist as my stomach twisted itself into an unshapely clump. I had been so unbelievably naive - to have all these clues and still not catch on. But the pieces were falling into place now: James's heavy-lidded gaze and the mint on his breath when he'd asked me why I liked Potions all these months ago and Athena's words at the Gryffindor victory party - You seem to have him under your spell now.

I thought I'd been prepared for this - for the awfulness of knowing for sure - but it killed me just the same.

"I - I have to go."

"No, Seth, listen -" Vala tried to hold on to my arm, but I had already pulled away from her, not even looking back as I threw myself into the crowd.

I couldn't distinguish my heartbeat from the throbbing baseline anymore. But I needed to get a grip; to focus on what was important. I couldn't let myself get sidetracked from why I was here; why I had to push every other thought out of my mind. I had to think about the Fauxlantis and my blackmailers and Katie and the boys.

Unfortunately, all I could seem to think about was James.

They weren't concrete, orderly thoughts. My head was a mess: tangles of images and emotions that curled around each other like smoke, scattering just as easily. I kept bumping into people as I moved through the crowd, looking for something without really knowing what I was hoping to find, and then, suddenly, he was there.

I stopped dead in my tracks, unable not to stare at James. He was close, talking to a group of people: a girl with dark red hair who looked vaguely familiar but not enough to place her, Freddie, Genie, and… Athena.

Of course.

It shouldn't have surprised me - that she was still there, next to him, while he was avoiding me. But it was none of my business if Genie hadn't told him; or if he knew and simply didn't care. We weren't friends. Not after what had happened; not when I couldn't tell what was real anymore and what wasn't.

But I still watched, paralysed as Athena laughed and then reached out to put her hand on James's arm until, suddenly, something behind my chest began to crack. I could feel it - the physical impact as some sort of wall shattered, releasing a wave of reckless anger that pushed every reasonable thought out of my system.

This wasn't fair. None of it was fair.

It was that exact moment that James turned his head in my direction and, of course, he'd find me staring at him. Because this whole messed up situation wasn't horrible enough already. I watched his eyes narrow, the muscles in his jaw flex as he stared back at me, and then, suddenly, he passed his drink to a bemused Freddie and just strode off into the crowd.

Fantastic.

James Potter was running away from me.

I had gone after him - recklessly - all the way to a rather inconspicuous door in the back that was awkwardly tucked into the wall, looking like it was not supposed to be there and not leading anywhere. But he pulled it open and slipped through and I held my breath as I followed him out onto the dark and deserted corridor.

Not even close to the portrait of Barnabas the Barmy.

I caught a glimpse of James at the end of the hallway before he disappeared behind a corner, and I hesitated for a second because this felt slightly problematic. There were a million good reasons to not do this - to not follow the boy who was obviously going out of his way to avoid me down a dark hallway, especially when I had so many other things to deal with. But, considering where this night had led me, it felt like it was too late for that sort of reasonable thinking. I couldn't just not say anything; I had to at least warn him about Athena.

This didn't have to be weird.

At least not until I basically barreled into him and almost tackled us both to the ground.

"Shit, Woodley!" He caught me around the waist, fingers splayed against my hips, but he let go immediately again, taking a deliberate step backwards. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"I'm sorry." I clenched my hands around the handle of my bag to have at least something to hold on to. I hadn't really thought this through before - what I even wanted to say to him - and it was quite difficult to come up with anything coherent when my heart was vibrating like a manic butterfly behind my chest. "I just saw you leave and -"

"And what, Woodley?" He sounded almost angry as he shook his head at me. "What the fuck are you doing?"

I had followed him like an obsessed fangirl. We both knew it. There was no need to try and deny it.

I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth as I tried to think of something remotely non-stalkery to say, but then his gaze flickered to my mouth and I remembered the Gryffindor common room; how he had told me that biting my lip made him think about kissing me.

Oh god, he probably thought I was hitting on him like a massive creep.

"I just - I wanted to talk to you."

James snorted, soundlessly, and then shook his head again. "You don't need to explain yourself, OK?" His voice had gone quieter, lower, and my stomach spasmed as he ran his hand through his hair. It was a complete mystery to me how I had ever been immune to James Potter's charms. "I get it, really. You don't feel the same way. It's fine."

"I - what?" I frowned at him, because this didn't exactly sound like he was talking about being drugged with a love potion and I was too confused to produce more syllables. Feel the same way?

The same way about what?

My heart had permanently migrated to my throat, shamelessly crushing my windpipe as I struggled to get enough air into my lungs to not swoon like a Vicotrian bride. Unfortunately, there was only so much I could do with James staring at me like that; all clenched jaw and broody eyes.

"Woodley?" He took a step towards me, then swallowed, making his Adam's apple bob and, holy sorceress, I'd have paid good money to see that show. It also made me want to run my hands up his chest to his shoulders but, instead of completely freaking both of us out, I slid them down the handle of my bag.

Which - and it took me a second to realise this - was open.

Oh no.

My fingers prickled as I jammed my hand into the bag, feeling around blindly for the stoppered bottle, but, except for my wand and a scrap of paper, there was nothing. "No, no, no, no." I muttered like a lunatic as I plunged my second hand in as well like that was going to make a difference. "It's gone…"

"What?" I could hear the confusion in James's voice, feel him come closer to me, but I was too busy trying to keep myself together as waves of panic nipped at my heels. This could not be happening.

"The Fauxlantis. It was in my bag and -" My fingers curled around the paper slip and I felt a sense of foreboding as I pulled it out, even before I saw the sloppily drawn smiley that seemed to mock me with its tongue sticking out.

"Why would it be in your bag?" James asked and I looked up to find him frowning at me, his eyes roving across my face before his mouth opened the slightest bit. "Oh. Seriously, Woodley? Tonight?"

I made a frustrated whiney-sound as I crumpled the paper slip up in my hand, trying to replay the evening's events in my head. I had been surrounded by people all night, brushing against elbows and bumping into shoulders; technically, anybody could have dropped their hand into my bag and taken the Fauxlantis without me realising it. "I can't believe it's gone."

James looked like he was going to say something, but before he could, there was a loud thud, a strangled meow, and, then, the aggressive signature sound of Filch's cane-supported walk that echoed down the corridor.

"OK, we have to go." James's hand wrapped around my wrist, dislodging the strap of my bag from my shoulder so that it slid to my elbow, dangling awkwardly between us.

"But -" I wasn't exactly sure why I wanted to argue with him. Clearly, he was right and we had to get out of there before Ms Norris would maul our ankles.

"Come on, Woodley!" He pulled me along despite my attempt at irrational protest and I was glad for it. Bungling the potion transaction so phenomenally was catastrophic enough without being busted by a senile caretaker and his even more senile cat.

We ran down the dark hallway and I almost had to laugh at the absurd familiarity of the view of James's back, his tousled dark hair, the muscles in his shoulders that strained as he held on to me. At some point, his grip had slipped from my wrist to my hand and I felt his fingers weave between mine as he tugged me around corner after corner until he finally decided that it was safe enough to stop. Unfortunately, I realised it a little too late and, for the second time tonight, crashed into him, full throttle.

"Ouch, sorry," I mumbled as I felt my cheeks burn despite the chilly night air that had slunk into the castle. "I didn't -"

James rounded on me without warning and, before I even knew what was happening, he had pushed me up against the wall, smothering the rest of my sentence with the palm of his hand as he towered over me. There was a very disconcerting tingle of excitement that mixed with the more reasonable sensation of panic chasing down my spine, but then I heard a tangle of voices, two sets of footsteps, and I caught on.

"Sorry," James mouthed soundlessly and then dropped his hand, but the damage had been done. He was standing much too close and smelled much too good and it was messing with my valiant efforts to not lose my shit. Because, even though I knew that he had been under the influence of a love potion and that none of this meant anything, my dense heart apparently hadn't got the message.

I moved away from him a little, mostly to create some much needed space between us, and then glanced around the corner to where Brogan Roberts and Cora Bletchley were coming our way. Of course, of all the people who were prowling the castle after dark on a Friday night, we just had to run into two patrolling Prefects.

"Prefects." I shaped the word silently with my lips and James tipped his head back in frustration, looking like he barely managed to contain a string of curse words. This was less than ideal, really. While Brogan, who was a genuinely good-natured guy, might have let us off the hook, Cora had definitely not forgiven me for taking over her patrol section on the night that Hey Hey Hippogriff had been in the castle. If her frowny side-eye during the last Prefects meeting had been any indication, she wasn't going to cut me any slack.

James squeezed my hand which was still tucked firmly into his and, when I looked up at him, he jerked his head towards the thin, wooden door at the end of the corridor. I only raised an eyebrow at him because I wasn't sure what exactly his plan was. Obviously, this was a dead end and we should have used the seconds before definitely being busted to try and come up with a semi-coherent excuse for why we were running around the castle past curfew, looking like Buffy the Vampire Slayer and a wild Backstreet Boy, but he thoroughly ignored my attempt at holding him back.

"Potter," I hissed as I watched him push his shoulder against the door, which was locked and not even budging a little bit. Brogan's and Cora's voices were dangerously close by now and I knew they'd be rounding the corner any moment, finding us not only violating a million school rules but also in the process of breaking and entering.

None of this was going to end well.

"James." My voice was barely more than a high pitched breath as I grabbed his arm and dug my fingers into his biceps to get him to stop fumbling with the strange metal ornaments that were fastened to the wood - a jagged sun, oddly pointed stars, a crescent moon shape instead of a door handle - and then, suddenly, the door clicked and began to rattle like tiny cogwheels in motion.

"I got you, Woodley." James flashed me his best boy-of-mischief grin and then shoved his shoulder against the door once again, pushing it open just enough for us to slip through before pressing it close behind us again.

While I considered myself a fairly intelligent person, my sense of direction was questionable. Which was probably why it took me a little too long to realise where the tightly wound spiralling staircase would lead us. James was walking close behind me and, when I glanced over my shoulder, I could see him studying his magical map, his dark eyebrows pulled together into a deep frown.

"You think they saw us?" I asked as I climbed the last set of stairs that ended in a spacious landing. There was paint on the floor - dark blue and sprinkled with gold - but most of it had faded from being walked on every day.

"No." James was still frowning as he tilted the map towards me, pointing at the small, dainty letters that spelled out Brogan's and Cora's names at the corner of the corridor we had just vacated a few minutes ago. Their dots were virtually overlapping.

"What are they-"

James raised an eyebrow at me and I bit my bottom lip as my face flushed with the sudden realisation. "Oh." I said, feeling the traces of awkwardness in my voice mingle with panic, because, of course, this was happening. "Brilliant."

"Yup." James raked a hand through his hair, fisting it in the tousled brown strands like he wanted to pull them out. "Brilliant." He walked past me through the intricately painted archway that separated the landing from the room beyond and I took a deep breath before following him inside.

I hadn't been here in forever. The Astronomy Tower was large and circular, painted with dark hues of green and blue and ornamented with glittering golden stars that didn't match the general castle aesthetics. It was a little strange and beautiful, like stepping into a fairy tale.

I tilted my head back to look up at the ceiling, which was shaped like a dome and mostly glass, though the view it offered couldn't possibly be real. It had been overcast all day, yet the night sky sprawled above us - midnight blue, spangled with glowing constellations that I had never seen before - brilliant and clear and magical.

"This might take a while," James said as he walked over to the cluster of mats that were laid out in the middle of the room and sat down, his weird map spread out on the floor next to him. "They've literally melted into one dot."

I watched him for a moment - one that felt too long - and my heart lodged itself firmly behind my sternum, making it hard to breathe. Of course I'd be trapped with the boy who probably thought I had tried to drug him with a love potion. After all, my life wasn't already a tragic mess.

James gave a sort of low, exhausted groan and then let himself fall back, gaze fixed on the ceiling, like he was settling in to trace the constellations across the glass, and I shifted my weight uncomfortably, not sure what to do. I couldn't just stand there like an awkward statue, trying not to look at James while I was waiting for Brogan and Cora to stop snogging.

I breathed in slowly, trying and failing to push my heart down where it belonged again as I took in the mats in the middle of the room, examining their haphazard arrangement. It looked a little like an abandoned campsite - casual and not at all methodically - with mats overlapping at points and colourful pillows strewn across them. For a classroom, the setup was quite inviting.

James had closed his eyes, stretching one leg out, and my gaze wandered to his bare arms - the cords of muscle that shaped his biceps and the tattoo that stood out even in the low light.

Morgan have mercy, I was not fine.

I knew I shouldn't have been this close to him; that I should have put as much distance between us as possible. But I couldn't stay away without making this weirder than it already was, so I took a fortifying breath and sat down on the mat next to him while maintaining enough distance to avoid any accidental physical contact. It seemed casual enough, Unfortunately, it didn't feel like it. My heart was flickering like a panicked moth that had got caught in a lampshade and all I could think about was how close my mat was to James's. They were meant for observing the movements of the stars and mapping out constellations, not mapping out complicated relationships.

I could see him move next to me from the corner of my eye and it felt as though my skin was on fire. He was watching me, like he was waiting for something, and it put me on edge. Had I sat down too close? Or maybe not close enough? I stretched out my legs, fussing with the hem of my skirt, and then, before I could overthink this even more, I leaned back.

The tangle of stars was overwhelming for a moment. It felt like the ceiling contained entire galaxies, some of them brighter than others, swirling lazily across the glass sky, and I wasn't in the Astronomy Tower anymore. I was at the beach next to my house on a warm summer night, unable to fall asleep. But I had never seen this many stars. And I had never been lying next to James Potter. My insides spasmed at the thought and I swallowed to disperse the tension in my body.

"I haven't done this since I was thirteen," I said quietly, maybe more to myself; to give myself something to do other than contemplating the fact that the boy I was so embarrassingly into was right next to me. I didn't expect him to answer, really, but I could hear him move, feel his body shift beside me.

"What?" His voice was soft in the starlit darkness, slightly rumbly and deep. "You didn't really drop Astronomy, Woodley."

I sighed, still trying to make sense of the glittery scene above me, failing to remember anything useful that Professor Sinistra had taught me. There was one star that shone brighter than the others which might have been the North Star but, other than that, I was lost. "Well, I had to drop something."

"Yeah, but not the most chill class at school." James sounded honestly appalled and I couldn't help but snort at his bewilderment.

"I'm serious." I could feel him move again, though I didn't dare look at him for fear of cardiac arrest. "We spend most of the time on our backs." His words sank into the silence before he added, "that came out wrong".

"Sure, Potter." I tried not to laugh; because, what the bloody hell was wrong with me? My blackmailers had stolen the fake illegal potion I had been carrying around in my bag and I was potentially one second away from being caught sneaking around the castle like the dodgiest criminal. This really wasn't the time to chuckle.

"It's a good class," James said and I could hear the grin in his voice. At that point, it was taking me an embarrassing amount of effort to not turn my head to see the expression on his face.

"Be honest, you're mostly snoozing."

"What do you take me for, Woodley?" He laughed. "You think just because I'm a dolt at Potions, I'm basically a dumb jock."

"I don't think that!" I turned my head as much as I dared to and my stomach did an instant flip-swoop combination when I caught a glimpse of the lopsided smile that tugged on his lips.

His lips.

Circe save me.

"I'll have you know that I'm a bonafide astronomy buff."

The corner of his mouth hitched a little higher and my voice felt a bit too breathy as I said, "You are?"

He gave a soft snort, like my question was mildly insulting, and then his arm appeared in my field of vision as he began to point out the constellations above us. "That's Cassiopeia, the Queen, and that over there's Ursa Minor, the Small Bear." His voice was low and raspy and I never wanted him to stop.

"Over there?" I pointed at a tangle of brighter stars that looked nothing like a bear and even less like a queen.

"No, right there." He shifted closer to me - close enough so that our shoulders and arms were touching - and then moved his hand towards a pattern of glittering stars. "Do you see it?"

"Yeah." I lied, because I had no idea what he was pointing at. I couldn't really focus on anything but the parts of him that were touching me, or the feeling of his body next to mine: warm and solid and entirely too good.

"Really? Trace it for me, Woodley."

"Are you testing me, Potter?" I snorted, letting my head drop to the side again, but the sound fizzled out as the tip of my nose brushed against his lips.

It was only a light touch, barely anything, but my breath caught in my throat and my heart gave a jolt as I felt the familiar tightness behind my navel: like a string that was exclusively tethered to James, pulling taught the closer he got. I knew I should have moved, but I couldn't. Not even a little bit.

He'd been smiling. I could still see the ghost of it in his dark amber eyes, on his face as the dimple in his cheek faded, and I couldn't help thinking then that James Potter looked like he was made to break hearts. He surely was breaking mine.

"It wasn't me," I said quietly, because even if our relationship was the product of some dumb love potion, I needed him to know that I hadn't done this to him.

He was still frowning, still looking at me, and I felt my pulse thud against my throat like a second heart. "What?" He was close enough that I could feel his breath on my skin. No mint, just a hint of butterbeer.

I swallowed. "The love potion."

"Woodley." He groaned softly and dragged a hand down his face as he shook his head, clearly not keen on having this conversation, but I wasn't going to let this go.

"I would never -"

"Seth. I -" He cut me off, then himself as he bit down on his bottom lip, frowning at me. "Shit, you're serious, aren't you? You really think I was drugged?"

"I - of course." I blinked at James, because what the hell was he talking about? Hadn't Albus or Professor Hagrid told him? "You were. I could smell the Lovenettle on your breath and-"

"The what?"

"It's an ingredient in most love potions. It smells like mint."

James arched an eyebrow at me, a sort of bemused expression on his face as he looked at me for a long moment. "Woodley, are you serious?" He groaned and reached back to the pocket of his jumpsuit, pulling out what looked like an oddly rolled-up cigarette.

I frowned as he passed it to me, not entirely sure what I was looking at. "What… is that?"

"It's Augustus's very disgusting gillyweed."

It took me a moment to process what he had said, but then my eyes widened and I felt a hot wave of panic wash over me. "Holy shit, Potter, did you just give me a joint?"

James snorted, like he had completely expected me to react like this and also found it very funny. The git. "Just… smell it."

I narrowed my eyes at him, not quite sure where he was going with this. I had never smoked gillyweed in my life and I had no idea what it was supposed to smell like, but, as I lifted the sloppily rolled joint to my nose, the tangy herbal scent I had expected was completely overpowered by a distinctly minty aroma. "But -"

"Augi likes to put in peppermint leaves for the bitterness. Makes it even more disgusting, if you ask me." James took the joint out of my hand again and stuffed it back into his back pocket, the expression on his face weird as he considered me for a moment. "There was no love potion. Ever."

"But…" I said with my heart beating in my ears like a manic pop song. "You said-"

He swallowed, then clenched and unclenched his jaw as he looked at me. "I know what I said, Woodley."

I wasn't sure what he meant.

Or, maybe, I was.

Maybe we both knew exactly what he was talking about.

I felt an insane spark of hope, bright and hot, burning away all my doubts as I recklessly tilted my head up. The tip of my nose grazed his cheek and, when our lips touched, I could feel him inhale sharply, then hold his breath. He didn't kiss me, though. Neither of us moved for a moment as we lingered like this: in this charged space that was strangely in between - between yes and no. Between before and after: our weird little comfort zone that required no confessions or commitments.

But it wasn't enough anymore.

My lips tingled where James's mouth brushed against them; almost too softly like, maybe this time, he needed me to be the one to kiss him first. And I did. Slowly. Carefully. Because I was nervous and overwhelmed and breathing shaky, shallow breaths that made the room spin. James made an incoherent noise, the sound smothered by my lips, and then his hand was on my cheek, sliding into my hair and to my neck as he pulled me against him.

The space between us had gone. It felt like every part of us was touching and it still wasn't enough. I was entirely made of fluttery things. My head was spinning and my thoughts were dancing out of my reach, making it impossible to think straight as James's lips parted mine. He was kissing me so, so slowly, like we had all the time in the world; like we could stay here forever.

But I was being incredibly dumb. I knew it. I knew that I had a million things to worry about - important things - but then James let out a low groan and pushed himself up and over me, sending another shockwave through my core, essentially obliterating any sensible thought I might have had. I wasn't careful anymore. I was completely and utterly reckless as I slid my hands up his arms, over his shoulders, around his neck, into his hair.

"Tell me you want this, Woodley." He murmured the words against the corner of my mouth before lifting his head a little to look at me. Strands of his dark hair were falling into his face and his eyes were almost entirely black in this light. "I need to hear you say it."

My stomach twitched as I looked up at him, barely even registering the magical canvas of stars that stretched above us. Because I didn't want to look at anything else. I just wanted to pathetically stare into James Potter's eyes forever.

"I want this," I said, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't just that and I knew it. "I really, really want this. I want…" I stopped on an inhale, holding my breath as I realised what I'd been about to say.

"Yeah?" James asked and my heart fluttered at the expression on his face - a little tense, maybe even nervous - and it was my complete undoing.

"I want you."

I wanted to say so much more - to tell him everything - but I was too flustered and awkward and couldn't work up the nerve to say it. He kissed me, harder this time, his weight pushing down on me despite the arm he was using to prop himself up above me. I was vaguely aware of digging my hand into the thin fabric of his tank top; of pulling him into me like we weren't already flush against each other, my fingers threading into his tousled hair and his heart pounding against my chest - fast and rough, like it couldn't settle into a steady beat.

"James." I whispered his name, embarrassingly breathless, and he made a low humming noise against my mouth before his lips brushed along my jawline, leaving a burning trail of kisses along my neck and throat that possibly eviscerated a sizable amount of brain cells. I gladly sacrificed them for this; for the feeling of his tongue on my skin and his hand on my thigh, slowly pushing underneath the hem of my skirt. It felt like my insides had molten together, dripping down to my core where they sluggishly pooled underneath my navel.

I wanted him to do this to me all night.

Also, I was terrified.

"Potter." I sounded slightly panicked as I pushed a hand against his chest. I wasn't quite sure what I was doing, but he moved back immediately, breathing hard as he hovered above me with a mildly confused expression on his face.

"Am I crushing you?"

"No, it's just…" My sentence guttered out like a sputtering candle. I didn't know what it was; why I had stopped him. Because I was pretty sure that I wanted this. My body definitely wanted this. I had been in his bed in my underwear, for Morgana's sake, and yet, I was frozen, looking at him like a deer in the headlights.

"Hey," James said softly and I felt his hand slide out from underneath my skirt. "We don't have to do anything." His fingertips brushed against my cheek as he pushed my hair behind my ear, tying a permanent knot into my stomach. "Maybe I should -" He made to push himself up, but I instinctively grabbed the front of his tank top and pulled him back down, which resulted in an absolutely mortifying headbutt.

Oh, sweet Sorceress, I was a catastrophe: the harbinger of crippling teenage awkwardness.

"I'm sorry." I groaned while James was snorting with laughter.

"I'm flattered you're that into me, Woodley." He rolled onto his back and I was sure that I had successfully killed the mood forever, but he reached out and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me snug against him. "Are you cold?"

"No, I'm good," I said, even though the tip of my frozen nose was pressing against his neck. I didn't want to leave just yet; to have to deal with the aftermath of tonight outside of the safety of the starlit Astronomy Tower.

But James didn't suggest leaving.

Instead, he tightened his arms around me and then kissed me on the forehead and I couldn't help wondering when exactly it had happened - when exactly James Potter had made me fall so entirely in love with him.

A/N: Hey everybody, I'm v sorry for the long wait. I was uninspired and working a lot and just couldn't write. I'm still not entirely happy with the writing in this chapter but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. We're approaching the end of this journey and I just wanted to tell you people how much your support means to me. Honestly. I'm getting a bit emotional here, but this has been such a constant in my life for so long and it's been an honour to share it with you guys. Thanks for your support, your feedback, your encouragement. It means the world to me :)