James and I stare at each other awkwardly, his shaking hand holding my wrist, my hands aimed at the waistband of his jeans and hovering dangerously close to...

We retract our hands at the same time and I clear my throat, mortified.

I divert my eyes as James unfastens the button of his jeans and unzips, embarrassment hitting me full-force like a Bludger to the gut. James is not shaking nearly as badly as before, but he still struggles to pull off the drenched and heavy article of clothing. I watch him fumble about for a bit before taking a deep breath. I am going to be in so much trouble with just about everyone if this gets out.

Swallowing my embarrassment, I grab the hem of his pants and help pull them off the rest of the way. I stand up, looking pointedly in the opposite direction of James who is only in his boxers and the towel I had wrapped around him.

"Are you going to be able to put on those clothes that I brought?" I ask James, turning to face the wall behind me.

"I s-s-s-should be fine." The awkward air between us is suffocating. Why did this idiot have to jump into the lake in the middle of January?

The sounds of James redressing stop and I risk a peek over my shoulder at him. He's got the towel over his head with his hands on top of it holding it in place and leaning against the wall.

"You know that hiding under that towel isn't going to make this situation go away," I say in an attempt at humor. Hopefully my voice is conveying this correctly. This has to be the hardest I've ever worked to make a joke.

A snort from under the towel tells me I have succeeded in, at least momentarily, breaking the tension between us. James pulls the towel off his head revealing a sheepish smile. He places it back over his hair, keeping his face exposed, and rubbing the towel over his hair to dry it.

"Your hair's going to stick up worse than it already does if you keep that up," I warn him with a half-smile.

"That's the idea," he says back with a wide smile.

A moment of silence passes as James continues to towel-dry his hair. "Do you think you're going to be alright, now?"

James drapes the towel around his neck and looks at me with a slightly amused look on his face. "I really worried you, didn't I?"

"You're an idiot," I respond flatly, crossing my arms. A half-smile is the response I get. "What even happened?"

"I think a Grindylow got me." James cautiously wobbles over to a nearby bench and sits down slowly. He stretched out his left leg, lifts the leg of his sweatpants, and points to his exposed ankle which is sporting a red mark spiraling up his leg to his upper calf. "There's some proof."

"Merlin, James!" I squat down next to him and touch the reddened skin gingerly. "How did you get away?"

"Might sound crazy, but I think the Giant Squid pulled it off me."

Another moment of silence.

"I'm sorry…" We both start at the same time. We smile and laugh a bit, before James waves for me to go first.

"I'm sorry about…" I pause trying to figure out how to phrase it. "…about your… clothes." James cocks and eyebrow in confusion and looks down at the clothes he had changed into.

I roll my eyes lightly. Merlin, he is thick. "I mean, I wasn't really thinking about how it would look. I was just really concerned that I wouldn't be able to get you warm enough and I didn't know what else to do." My face is radiating heat as the blush I knew would happen creeps up, again.

"Oh…" James's eyebrows shoot up in recognition of what I'm referencing. He reaches up, rubs the back of his neck, and laughs, embarrassed. "Don't worry about it, Mer. It just surprised me, that's all. That's never happened to me before."

"Well, to my knowledge, you've never jumped into the Black Lake in the middle of January before."

Another blush adorns James's face and he continues rubbing the back of his neck. "That's not what I meant."

I scrunch my eyebrows, confused. What did he mean, then?

James gives and uncomfortable cough and runs his hands through his still-damp hair. I find his nervous fidgeting kind of cute.

Focus, Mer! I tell myself, shaking my head slightly.

What's never happened to him if it wasn't this idiotic Polar Plunge?

Having someone tell him to wear dirty clothes? That's probably not it.

Almost dying of hypothermia? Maybe, but he wouldn't be so nervous.

Having someone undress him?

I stiffen and my eyes fly open. James is looking up at me with his head tucked, elbows propped up on his knees.

"I was only trying to keep you from dying!" I bellow at him in embarrassment.

"I know," he responds, wringing his hands together, his voice low. "I'm sorry, I had just started to become aware of my surroundings and you were-" He drops his head, breathing out loudly. "Bugger. Where am I going with this?"

I watch him carefully as he sits up straight and rubs his eyes with his palms. "Having a girl… take my… clothes off was… a first for me," he says finally, eyes still covered by his hands. He leaves it at that, but he doesn't need to go any further.

"Oh," I respond, not really sure what else to say. "Is that right?" I walk over to James and sit on the bench next to him. It does explain his reaction at least.

"You surprised?" He asks me, twisting around so that we are facing the same direction on the bench.

I look at him and sigh lightly. "Not really," I admit. James furrows his eyebrows and his eyes contain a bit of shock. "James," I begin again with a hint of scolding him my voice. "I may have only known you for a year, but I have gotten to know you pretty well. Despite acting like a brain-dead girl-crazy idiot, you're a good guy." I pat him on the knee as I say this last part

James sniffs a laugh and half-smiles, staring at the floor. "And honestly," I continue, "if you had told me differently, I would have been disappointed. I know your not the type of guy to go around like that, so it would have really changed my opinion of you."

James turns his head to me and smiles gently. "Thanks, Mer," he says finally before taking a deep breath and staring back down at the floor.

I lean over and bump his shoulder with my own. "Buck up, buttercup. It's not like you've just admitted to robbing Gringrotts."

"I think that would be less surprising to some people," James huffs.

"What makes you say so?"

James drops his head and shakes it roughly. "Remember I told you Ruth ditched me?"

"Yeah."

"Well, that's why. She wanted to go further and I said no."

A heavy silence falls between us as I digest this new information. "That's…" I start, trying to fill the silence. Unfortunately, I don't have anything to say besides… "Wow."

So he knows how that feels, too, I think, gripping the edge of the bench tighter.

"Oh well!" James says loudly, standing up suddenly. "Plenty of other girls out there. Why worry about this one?" His voice is full of forced confidence. "I'm a free agent, now, anyway. Maybe I'll just devote my extra time to perfecting my center-hoop shot." He mimes shooting a Quaffle through a hoop with this last sentence.

I watch him in silence and I start to pity him as he continues to put on this front. "Hey," I interject gently as James starts describing how much faster he could fly if he tucked the Quaffle under his arm in a particular way. James stops, looks at me, and seems to deflate when he notices my pitying face.

"Sorry. Can't seem to shake this feeling like I've gone and screwed up. Ruth's the first girl to ditch me."

I grab James's arm and pull him back down on the bench next to me. "You didn't screw up at all," I reassure him. "I think you did the right thing. You weren't ready and she should've respected that." I lean my head against his shoulder and add, "Sorry I didn't notice that you got dumped without you telling me."

"It's fine, Mer," James says patting my head gently. "I know you've had a lot on your mind lately."

"Has it been that obvious?"

"I get the feeling you and your boyfriend are currently having a row."

At the mention of 'boyfriend', I sit straight up. "What are you talking about?"

"I don't know who it is, but Fred told me and the guys that you've been seeing someone."

Damn it, Fred. You're dead for telling James.

"Why didn't you tell us, yourself?" The tone in his voice suggests that he really wanted to ask 'Why didn't you tell me?'

"I… well…' I trail off. It seems really stupidly selfish, now. Not wanting them to pry into my business? What a load of tosh. They're my mates. That's what they do.

"I don't know what exactly is going on, but I've really been trying to get your mind off it. You've been in a particular funk today. My blabbering in Defense didn't even faze you."

"I thought you were strategizing with Fred."

"Fred was about to pummel me. I was talking a bunch of nonsense and he was the one who had to point out that you weren't even listening."

I scoff and shake my head. "Not going to apologize for not listening," I tell him, crossing my arms. "Actually, you had better apologize for keeping Fred from taking notes that we were both going to need to copy."

James waves me off with a smile. "Whatever."

I roll my eyes. Prat.

"Anyway, I thought playing some Quidditch would help you out, but," James pouts and hangs his head, "it turned into a real disaster."

"You could call it that," I say, smiling. James just pouts harder. "I'm happy we came out, though, even if you did almost die. We haven't talked like this in ages."

James holds his head sideways and keeps a pout on his lips. "I'm sorry I jumped in the lake."

I ruffle his already incredibly ruffled hair. "You had better be sorry. You almost gave me a bloody heart attack." James pulls away from my hand, laughing. "I'm just glad that you seem to be okay."

"Thanks to you. If you hadn't brought me here soon enough…" James trails off. "Not to mention if you hadn't forced me out of my wet clothes-"

"Yeah, let's not mention that," I say hastily, still feeling awkward about it. "Actually, do me a favor and don't mention that to anyone." James laughs loudly and I frown. "I'm serious! If my dad finds out about this I will be grounded for the rest of my life and he will skin you alive."

That's to say nothing of Brenden, either, I tell myself, feeling the momentarily forgotten guilt settle in my stomach again. I don't even want to think about what he would do if he found out.

"We'd better get back," James says, standing back up. He twists around a couple of times popping his back and continues, "I've already broken my promise that we'd be back before curfew. The least I can do is make sure you don't get caught because of me."

James and I make our way through the fifth floor main corridor, trying to be as quiet as we can. Well, I am at least. James is walking normally, not even trying to muffle his footsteps. He does have the advantage of the rubber soles on his trainers. I probably should have worn mine and not these boots. They are warm, but the heel clunks every time I step.

Not that I could have known better. I was under the impression that we would be getting back before now. I take a glance at the glowing digits on the face of my watch. 10:48 – almost two hours past curfew.

Hopefully the hallway patrols are getting too tired to keep too close of an eye on their surroundings. I do also hope we don't run into the Slytherin Prefects. The male seventh-year Prefect has it out for all of Gryffindor and the girl… Well, let's just say that I don't think we would get off like Brenden apparently did.

James yawns loudly and reaches his arms behind him in a stretch. I shush him viciously and he give me a smarmy smile. "Calm down, Mer. It's not like there's a patrol around every corner. Besides, it's nearly time for the patrols to turn in for the night. Do you really think that they are going to-" The sound of clacking heels hurrying our direction from around a corner ahead of us cuts James off.

"Shi-" James grabs my hand and pulls me back in the direction we came. I free myself after I regain my footing and run alongside him. "If only I had my Cloak."

I don't know what he's talking about, but I disregard this for now. I really don't want to be caught and those heels could only be…

"Cynthia!" a voice calls down the hallway.

Yep. Cynthia Driscoll. Seventh year Slytherin Prefect.

Just perfect.

"Where are we going, James?" I ask, out of breath.

No answer.

I turn to my right.

No James.

What the hell? Where did that prat disappear to?

Unfortunately, I don't have time to think about it. Cynthia has been joined by her fellow seventh year Slytherin Prefect, Jordan Maes.

I groan inwardly. This just keeps getting better.

I round the next corner and see a familiar, stubborn door: my nemesis of the Hogwarts Hallways that I have to threaten destruction on every time I try to pass through it. I don't know if anyone else has a problem with this door, but I get the feeling it hates me.

I come to a stop in front of the door and waste no time in pulling out my wand and holding it up to the dark wood. "I have no time to mess around," I whisper angrily. "You'd best let me through the first time or I really will blast a hole through you."

With a faint click, the door opens on its own.

"Smart move," I say it as I push the door the rest of the way open and slip through. I'm only just through the frame, when the door shuts on its own, bumping painfully into my arm. It slams into the frame; the sound echoes through the dark passage I am now standing in.

Bullocks. It was probably even louder in the main corridor.

I turn and glare at the door, still heaving from running. I swear it's laughing at me.

Muffled voices come from the other side of the door, becoming louder as the talk. "I know they came down this way." It's Cynthia.

"I thought I heard a door slam. Is it this one?" Maes.

"It sounded further away than that. I'll keep going this way and see if I can find anything."

"I think I heard someone go the other way where the hall forks back there. I'll go check it out."

Heavy footsteps follow this statement and they eventually fade out, Maes being too far away for the sound to carry through the heavy door.

"Moron," Cynthia says out loud. "Did you have to make your presence so obvious?"

My stomach lurches when she speaks. Is she talking to me? How did she know I was here?

There's a screech and moan of a wooden door opening. It sounds like the one directly across the hall from the one I'm hiding behind. "Actually it wasn't me." A male voice joins Cynthia, "If you're curious, someone just slammed that door there." His voice is infuriatingly familiar. Do I know him? "They've probably already made it to the end of the passage, now."

"Good," Cynthia answers, her tone slightly snooty. "What a waste of time to try to catch a couple of kids out after hours."

"Shall we make better use of your time, then?" They are both whispering, masking what their real voices sound like.

Cynthia laughs softly. "The best use of my time would be to bust you here and now. I could give you detention for the rest of the year and not feel the least bit guilty about it."

"C'mon. You don't mean that." The voices are growing steadily louder as the couple draws closer to my hiding spot. There's a thump and the door rattles on its hinges as someone bumps it from the other side.

"What about your little girlfriend?" Cynthia whispers sultrily.

"What about her?" he answers without pause.

Wait.

His girlfriend?

Baaaaaasssstttaaaarrdd.

What a low-life. Who is this guy?

The door latch clanks as one of the members on the other side of the door grabs it.

Shoot! They're coming this way.

I turn quickly and follow the passage around a corner just as the door opens with its own woody groan.

So they can open the door, no problem? I see how it is. Damn door really does hate me.

I duck out of sight around the corner and make to head to the Common Room.

"Don't worry about her," the guy says playfully. Hearing his unmuffled voice, I freeze and my hearts starts pounding. His voice is even more familiar, now.

The passage is only lit with lamps hung every five yards or so. I inch back towards the corner I had turned, kneeling close to the ground. The shadows are deep and I'm certain I can't be seen. I poke my head around the corner, careful not to make a sound

I instantly see the two figures huddled together just inside the door and right under one of the lamps. Cynthia's back is against the wall and the guy is whispering inaudibly in her ear and kissing her neck. She's giggling suggestively, apparently enjoying her situation.

Is that how I'm supposed to act when someone does that? Just the thought of it causes me to shiver and I fight the urge to rub my ear.

"You know she gets around, anyway. I heard that she bailed on me tonight to go shag Potter."

Hold the hippogriffs… James? James was with me the whole time. Whoever gave this prat his information was seriously mistaken.

"Are you jealous?" Cynthia asks, gently stroking the hair on the back of the guy's head.

His voice is low and gravelly as he presses his body ever closer to Cynthia's. "Not at all. Tonight, I get to be with you," he counters before catching her mouth with his own.

I start to feel the heat rise in my face as I spy on the figures, but something about them makes it so I can't move away.

What kind of people do things like this? This bastard is intentionally meeting another girl to get back at his cheating girlfriend and this slag Prefect is knowingly going along with it. Apparently these two were made for each other.

I exhale loudly through my nose in disbelief and instantly cover my nose and mouth with my hand.

What am I thinking? They're literally twenty feet away.

My outburst does not go unnoticed. The guy spins around and looks in my direction. I duck out of sight behind the wall, but not before I catch the unmistakable features of a tall seventh year Ravenclaw.

Brenden.