New chapter! I promised Eryn that I would have this story done by her birthday, which may or may not happen, but seeing as there are two chapters left after this one, I don't see there being any issue with that.

ALSO wish my friends a happy birthday in your review, would you? Annabelle on the 3rd, Eryn on the 15th, myself on the 17th, and Sam on the 18th of September! Hopefully we all get what we want!

And finally, before the gruelling Authors Note is complete, I am going to make a list at the bottom of the last chapter with all the stories written by me or Sam or anyone else (just me and Sam at the moment ;) but that could change!) that are based off of characters from this long-as-hell fic. So, read those if you want more of these semi-lovable characters!

And now.. ON WITH THE CHAPTER!

"What the hell is wrong with you?!"

Neville turned his head from the view down from the Astronomy Tower, his sweaty palms holding onto the rail tighter, hoping his feet wouldn't slip and let him dangle off the edge. He was normally terrified of heights, but he had been doing more and more things that were out of character in the last little while than ever before. Standing at the top of the long flight of stairs, looking terrified and half-dressed and like she'd fall apart any second, was Sam Calloway.

"I'm surprised you showed up," he muttered, shocked when she heard him and rushed towards him.

"You basically left a suicide note on my bedside table! I wasn't about to let you go through with it!" she exclaimed. Her long fingers wrapped round his wrist, tugging him to get inside, but he didn't budge. She was surprised at how strong he was.

"Why should I get in, Samantha?" She looked up at him, blue eyes widened in shock at his words. "I don't want to be back to routines and boring classes and watching everyone try to look up your skirt when you aren't watching."

"Oh please, don't make this about me and my sluttiness right now, Neville. Just get the fuck back in here and we can discuss this! I thought I was the brash one and you were level-headed!"

He turned to look at her sharply. "You aren't a slut. I was wrong to say as much. And I'm sorry."

She didn't relent her trying to pull him over the rail and into her arms, but was very aware at how her jaw dropped. She shook her head, trying to pretend her cheeks weren't heating at the intense stare he was giving her. "I am, don't lie. Now just hop over and-"

"You aren't, Sam," he cut over her. He lifted a hand and brushed her curls from her face, but she jumped at the opportunity, taking his hand tightly in hers and tugging him back. He hadn't expected the supple strength she held in her slim arms, and was tugged back, flipping over the railing and landing on his back behind its safety.

She dropped to her knees, not caring that the abrupt contact made her joints ache or that the skirt she'd grabbed on her way up here was lifted in a way that allowed him a glimpse of her knickers. Not that he was looking. He was crookedly lying on the floor, groaning in slight pain. She brushed a hand across his forehead and cheek.

"I'm sorry… But I couldn't let you…" She shook her head and tried to fight back an oncoming onslaught of tears. Sam didn't cry. Her friends had witnessed the girl weeping a maximum of three times throughout their entire friendship. Yet she couldn't help it when the sob in her throat was let out from her lips and the waterworks began.

Neville didn't mind. If anything, it showed him that she wasn't some strong, infinite being that all the guys seemed to think she was. He slowly wrapped his arms round her in what he hoped was a loving embrace, letting her soak his chest with sadness.

Her entire body was racked as she sniffed, her forehead pressed heavily to his shoulder. She didn't want to move, and was thankful when he didn't make her even when the crying subsided. The only motion she made was to turn her head and say softly, "Thank you."

In all honesty, her intention had been innocent: she made to kiss his cheek. But he turned to the left at the same moment she leant towards him, and their lips connected.

Neither of them stopped themselves when it happened. They didn't hesitate to press closer to one another and to let their hands roam the others body. She shifted so she wasn't lying on top of him, making him bear all of her weight, but she didn't go any further than an accidental pulling of his shirt. And even then he didn't make her get off him.

It was only when he groaned in discomfort that she sat up quickly and shook her head. Luckily, she noted that his arm had just been twisted in a very unnatural position. She carefully clambered off him, seating herself cross legged at his side. He managed to sit up as well, leaning on the railing that he had previously been hanging off of.

"I can't do that yet…" he muttered. She tilted her head upwards to look at him instead of her clasped hands, quirking a brow slightly. It seemed to be just an unsaid question that they both had itching in the back of their minds. "Sex, I mean. I can't."

Sam nodded slowly before wrapping her arms round herself. "Can I ask why?" He didn't respond for what felt like an eternity, and when he looked at her, his eyes were glistening with sorrow. She wanted to swallow the words she'd said and let the rule sink in, but it was out in the open now.

"Remember in fourth year, when the fake Mad-Eye Moody was teaching us all Defense of the Dark Arts?" he began slowly, shakily. She nodded. "Well, he pulled me back after one Cruciatus lesson, and said he wanted to talk about why I was so shaky… Except…" A single tear fell down his cheek and he stared at the floorboards. "He didn't want to talk. He didn't want to do anything except lock the doors, shut the windows, and silence the room. I got a book on magical herbs to help Harry in the Second Task… But he took something from me in return…"

It surprised Annabelle how easy it was to get away from Kenzie at the end of their study session and slip down the hall to the boys dorm unnoticed. Of course, she knew her friend was weary with thoughts of Draco, even though she wouldn't say anything, and therefore wasn't paying attention when she scurried back and tried to find the sixth year boys dorms.

No one was there when she snuck in and shut the door behind her. All the beds were made in a half-ass manner of someone who didn't care what their place of sleep looked like to the public eye, but she knew in a heartbeat which was his. Mainly because it was the neatest and it had a note sitting on the pillow.

She carefully opened it and read his careful handwriting, explaining that a slight Disillusioning Charm had been placed on his hangings, so on the off chance that anyone entered, they wouldn't notice her sitting there. As well, the boys were all warned away for the night and told to find a place to pass out elsewhere. She couldn't help but smile at the small x beside his name.

A little kiss for her.

Stop that, Annabelle, she scolded herself. He just wants a quick fuck. That's all it is. Don't be caught up in sentiment.

At the bottom of the note, as an afterthought, he wrote, Please leave your clothes on. I want to unwrap you myself. Her stomach knotted and unknotted as she dropped the note on the bedside table and fell onto his bed, taking in the silky sheets that surrounded her. She drew the hangings round herself for security.

She willed herself to stay awake for the hour she was to wait.

The sound of the door opening quietly and shutting again snapped her awake as she was about to doze off. She couldn't tell the time through the hangings as she tried to relax, listening to the shuffling just outside of the bed she was sat on. But it had to be him.

A dark hand – she assumed it was dark; the dorm was pitch black already – reached in and pulled the cord that let the green hangings pull apart, allowing her to take in the sight she couldn't believe was going to be hers for the night.

He had already removed his shirt, exposing his broad, built chest that she found she couldn't take her eyes from. Her cheeks became tinted with pink as she forced her gaze to move to his face. The expected smirk wasn't there; he simply smiled slightly and slid onto the bed, hovering over her.

"You came," he murmured, surprising her when she caught a tinge of relief in his tone. She nodded and blushed when the innuendo that he may or may not have meant to put in there was realized.

She couldn't find her words, and instead found her courage and moved up, pressing her lips to his. For a brief moment, there was no reaction from him, but it was soon replaced with unbridled passion. His arms slid round her, pressing her both against the mattress and his hard frame. She let her fingers slide over his arms, wrapping round his (rather impressive) biceps as he gently touched the edge of the tank top she'd worn for studying.

Gradually, he tugged it off, leaving her feeling quite naked in just her bra. A sound that resembled a low growl was emitted from the back of his throat, which caused a nervous smile on her lips. Next to go were her shorts, and he was careful to remove them slowly, in case she changed her mind.

She was down to just her maroon coloured matching set. Her uncoordinated hands fumbled at his belt, somehow managing to tug it off and chuck it away. His fond smile grows when she tries to even her breathing and slowly undoes his trousers. Once they're past his knees, he kicks them to the floor as well.

His lips attack hers again to will away conversation for the moment. They both feel the other person's heated skin against their own, loving the sensations they receive at certain garments or fine trails of hair pressing into their flesh. She finally has to pull away slightly to take a breath and feels her face burning crimson.

For the first time in her life, everything about her is being shown. She knows she hasn't got the best body; she'd like to be more endowed, or have better hips, or be shorter. But she isn't. And for some reason, Blaise seems to like her just the way she is.

"Annabelle…" he breathes against her jaw, making her heart speed up. "I want to tell you something…" She absently stroked the back of his neck, her eyes fluttering shut, humming her consent to continue. "I'm not doing this just for… the reason I said. That would be insensitive and wrong."

She didn't dare to move as she listened to his confessions. It was difficult not to squirm when his hot breath was tickling her ear. "This isn't for shits and giggles, Annabelle… I don't want to sleep with you just to sleep with you. I think I might-"

The sound of the door being thrust open and slamming against the stone wall beside it echoed through the dorm, making Annabelle shriek and reach for something to cover herself with. Light from the common room and corridor streamed in, exposing the pair lying on the bed as well as their interrupters.

Lying on the floor was a very worn looking Theodore Nott, being beat upon by Draco Malfoy. The blonde was using his fists, his feet, his teeth sometimes to cause as much pain on the shorter boy as possible. But Theo wasn't just letting him. As best he could, he was fighting back, swinging as best his thin arms could. He got a good punch or two in there, but it was nothing compared to Draco's damage to him.

Following through the door that they'd just fallen in through, probably coming because she heard the scream, was a dazed Kenzie, dressed in only a large shirt and pyjama shorts. She wiped away all signs of sleep when she scanned the room and took in every image she could.

"EVERYBODY KNOCK IT OFF!" she called, making everyone still. She glared at them all, especially the pair who were wrestling on the ground. But her attention went briefly to Annabelle and Blaise – the latter of whom was covering her as though he could save her from the sight – and she quirked a brow. "I'll question you later," she said pointedly, then looked at her friend and her… whatever Draco was to her.

"You two will get up and piss off right now! I've had a long day and you two waking me up at half twelve in the morning isn't helping!" Her glare stayed too long on the blonde. "Now get the fuck off of him."

A moment passed before he complied, throwing Theo's head onto the floor and getting up, walking huffily out of the room. She followed instantly, still enraged and needing explanations.

I basically just wrote pre-smut about my friend.. How should I be feeling?

Can I add too that the bit about the fake Mad-Eye was where the idea for this entire story stemmed from? Just a sidenote..

REVIEW! :D