'Won't you be my fantasy?' - Will. feat Cody Wise, It's My Birthday

One month passes without incident. One month in which I have time to sort myself out and admit to the truth: I'm addicted to her. Not her looks (which I could gaze at for hours) and not her personality (which includes a damn infectious smile that gets me grinning in seconds); no, it's her aura. Which makes me sound like one of those stupid herbal Healers whom mum always mocks. But it's true: she can be a snarky little bitch at times, but when she's in her element, Ria Black just has this powerful kind of energy that draws you to her. And I'm addicted to it.

Which is why, on Friday the 21st of February, after a gruelling Quidditch practice and a day of what seems like the whole population of Hogwarts coming up to my two best mates to wish them a happy birthday, I am calm.

I am calm, and I am ready.

All six of us gather in the girls' dorm as usual, and sit on the soft carpet in a comfortable circle around the exultant Scor and Ria. I lounge across the floor, while Emma sits cross-legged next to me, Lysander leans on the bed opposite me with his legs across Ria's, and Rose snuggles in Scor's lap as we laugh, joke, and cut a cake that Emma sweetly asked a house-elf to bring up from the kitchens for us.

Then comes the time for presents. Scor and Ria receive nothing big; at least, nothing as big as what I'd got on New Year's Eve. They don't exchange presents with each other, but then I know it's my time.

And while some people get high from extreme sports, this is what gets the adrenaline pumping through my veins. But I am calm.

I am calm, and I am ready.

I give Scor his birthday present of an outrageous set of exotically flavoured condoms in the hope that he never accidentally gets my immature cousin pregnant, then smile at the expectant girl with smouldering dark eyes who somehow gets my heart racing when she smirks. Godric, I sound like a sod.

I crawl over to Rose's bed, and lift up the scarlet duvet hanging over the edge, laying myself flat on the floor to reach into the forbidding darkness under my cousin's bed to a small holey box that I placed there half an hour ago.

It's my time. I am calm and I am re -

"Nice ass, Potter."

I clench my buttocks jokingly in response to Ria's catcall, and get a chorus of wolf-whistles in return, plus the sound of fake-retching.

I roll my eyes and pull open the flap of the box, carefully lifting out what's inside, and pushing myself back out from under the bed cautiously.

I can feel Lysander's smile, but I have eyes only for the recipient of my present. Ria's eyes widen as her gaze drops to my hands, and Scor gasps loudly from next to her.

I put the tiny magical kitten on the floor slowly, and nudge him towards Ria. Rose immediately coos and strokes him adoringly, but I panic (so much for 'I am calm') when Ria doesn't move.

I get to my feet quickly and words come pouring out. "Happy 18th birthday. I got him from WWW because I didn't know what to get you and then I just saw this kitten in the backroom when Lily dragged me to visit Uncle George with her and he says the kitten's mother was a shop cat who drank a dodgy potion she wasn't meant to and when she gave birth her kitten was multi-coloured, and it reminded me of you because you're so damn colourful, but – oof."

I'm cut off when Ria launches herself at me, throwing her arms around me, and squashing the air out of me.

I very nearly sag in relief, and instead squeeze so her tightly I end up lifting her off the ground, grinning like an idiot.

She pulls back too soon, but I'm still holding her above me, and effect is that she's gazing down on me, dark hair swishing forward, so that it's just me and her in a cocoon of soft black-and-silver. My eyes land on her lips, and then she's kissing me. And while our kiss in the pub was hot and passionate, this is just the same, yet so much softer.

I've had a lot of experience kissing girls (and guys), but none of the snogs have ever felt as fucking perfect as now.

"Sweet Merlin, get a room." A crisp voice yells at us, and I shoot my middle finger in Lysander's general direction, but I pull back from Ria reluctantly. She is still beaming down at me, and I match her smile. "Date me?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

Manly butterflies explode in my extremely toned stomach as I lean upwards for a quick peck on the lips, and then lower my girlfriend down gently, turning to meet a slightly creepy sight.

Rose is shovelling popcorn in her mouth, watching us rabidly, with Scor gazing as us like a love-struck fool, his chin on Rose's shoulder. Emma cuddles the kitten to her face, and Lysander gives a tiny nod when he catches my gaze.

You did good, mate. (Is what I presume he's saying.)

I wink back. (I hope he interprets it as 'I know'.)

I slump back onto the floor, pulling Ria down with me, and thread an arm around her waist, as she lays her head on my shoulder.

It may seem like nothing has changed, but this time, I got the girl.

And this is where most stories would end, but Ria and I? We're far from done.

Half an hour later, I run my hand through my hair carefully, admiring my reflection in the mirror next to my bed. I smooth the tight white t-shirt over my abs, satisfied, and then turn to admire my butt in my best black boxers.

"Done staring at yourself yet, you narcissist?" Lysander calls, bored, from where he has been standing by the door, waiting for me for the last ten minutes.

I wink at my reflection one last time, then strut over to him proudly. "Mate, it takes time to look good. Not that you would know, in your bloody overalls."

Alright, so I exaggerate. He's wearing baggy plaid pyjamas, but they may as well be overalls as they cover every bit of skin except his face.

He rolls his eyes. "Not everyone wants to show off their body like you."

I grin. "Mostly cos only I've got something to show off."

We hurry through down the boys' stairs to the Gryffindor common room, where students from fourth year and above are dressed in their pyjamas, making their way like us to the Room of Requirement.

There are guys dressed in everything that can possibly be classed as pyjamas, from sexy like me, to old-guy like Sander. The girls are similar, with outfits varying from dressing gowns tied firmly around their waists, to bordering on lingerie.

But while I do take the opportunity to check out some ass, abs and tits, I'm not interested, because I've got one girl who can beat them all at a sexiness competition, blindfolded.

And I look for her immediately when we enter the Room of Requirement. The Room is dark, but glowing softly blue, as muggle music blares out of the walls, and students jump around on the dance floor. The bar stretches all the way around the room, with grinning guys serving unrecognisable drinks that pulse in fluorescent colours. Shining streamers rain down from the ceiling, and the far wall grabs my eye with a hug neon sign screaming 'HAPPY 18th, SCOR AND RIA!'

There are people everywhere and the Room is full to bursting with students from all Houses, from four years, but I can spot Ria immediately. She is twirling around with James in the middle of the dance floor, her silver-ended hair glowing in the dark, and I can't help but grin when I see her. She's sporting bright blue shorts, and Scor's red Quidditch jersey, which has been charmed to glitter, emitting its own light.

And goddammit she's hot.

As if she senses my eyes on her, she looks to the entrance suddenly, and meets my gaze.

And then she's yelled something at James, to which he nods and winks, and she's cutting a path through the crowd, holding my gaze firmly.

Emma gets to us before she does, in a cute purple nightgown, but I have eyes only for my girlfriend. When she reaches us, she pulls me down for a kiss, then hugs Emma and Lysander, by which time Scor has appeared out of nowhere, with Rose on his arm. I appreciate my cousin wearing her only appropriate pyjamas, which consist of a silver silk playsuit, but I grin at Scor's wardrobe of Ria's Quidditch jersey, charmed to glitter like his, and bright blue drawstring boxers. The birthday kids have clearly coordinated their outfits.

Scor waves his hand in the air and six shot glasses suddenly fly at us from the bar. I easily catch two and hand one to Emma, while Lysander ducks out of the way just in time for his to smash on the floor. Scor just about grabs his, and Ria instinctively bats hers away, but it comes whizzing back magically into her hand, however Rose shrieks and flails about, causing her shot to panic and empty itself over her head. She stands there, fuming, with sweet-smelling caramel vodka dripping down her hair, and I crack up. Scor smiles and leans over, licking some of the liquid off her face, and I turn my laughter into retching. He's clearly already had quite a bit to drink. Or maybe not. He'd do that sober.

Rose swats her boyfriend away, spinning her wand to dry herself off, then duplicates Scor's shot twice and gives the extra glass to Lysander.

Which he declines.

Scor flashes him puppy-dog eyes.

Lysander rolls his eyes. I should probably tell my best mate that his puppy-dog eyes just don't work. "You know it's never a good idea to get me drunk."

"But it's our birthday! No saying no to us on our birthday, Sander." Ria cries, draping her arm over his shoulders.

He sighs. Hesitates. Sighs again. Then downs the drink.

There's a shocked silence (other than students screaming and dance music blaring). And then we erupt in cheers and gulp down our own shots.

Lysander smiles and leans against me heavily as Scor gathers us closer so that we can hear him over the pounding bass.

"It's our 18th birthday, right? So Ria and I have to drink eighteen shots." He yells, already stumbling over his words slightly.

We nod. It's a tradition Ria and Scor have been doing since they were sixteen.

"But we've been thinking - " Ria starts.

"Merlin help us." Lysander slurs, and Scor pokes him as Ria frowns, then continues.

"We reckon it's unfair if only we two have all the fun. So today all six of us are taking eighteen shots each!"

My jaw drops. Then I whoop and high-five Rose, who is in a similar state of ecstasy.

Emma shrugs. Eighteen shots won't even get her tipsy, the lucky bint, but Lysander shakes his head firmly.

"No no no no nnnno." He stops, then frowns at me like I've said something wrong. "Charles Dickens wrote Oliver Twist, not Jane Austen!"

I slap his face lightly. "You are so out of it, mate."

He lays his head on my shoulder. "I like cheese, too."

I grin and raise my empty shotglass. "BRING IT ON."

An hour later and I am swaying on the dance floor, with Ria's arms securely around me. I raise my head off her shoulder and gaze at her, my gorgeous girlfriend, smiling as I see two of her.

"One more of you for me to kiss." I mumble.

She grins. "Sweetie, you're not making any sense."

I lean in to kiss her, then stop short as a bloodcurling scream echoes around the room.

I scowl and look up. "SHUT THE FUCK UP, SCAMANDER."

"AH'M A VAMPYYYYYYRE!" Lysander screeches, somehow dangling from the ceiling, stripped down to his boxers with his dark skin painted white and a pink ribbon tied around his head.

I shrug and look around to make sure that someone is taking a photo of him. What are friends for, right?

To be fair, Emma is probably sitting at the bar somewhere, sipping a cocktail with her wand in her hand, ready to cast a Cushioning Charm in case he falls.

I drool a little as I think of what alcohol she might be drinking. I grab Ria around the waist and stagger through the throng of dancers, over to the bar, making sure my hand slips down to squeeze her ass. She just laughs and supports me around the waist, slipping her hand under my t-shirt to press her hot fingers against my already-flushed skin.

Great girl, she is.

I wave in the general direction of the barman, and then down the glass that is placed in front of me in one, not even noticing the burn of the strong Firewhiskey.

I then turn around and reach for my girlfriend, squinting as I focus on a Quidditch jersey and bright blue shorts standing in front of me, saying something that I can't hear over the music. I beam and pull Ria towards me, and capture her lips in a hot kiss. She responds eagerly and I moan into her mouth as her hands fist in my hair. I press her against me as I slip my hands under her hoodie and run my hand up her back. No bra strap. I grin against her lips. Her fingers trace the rim of my boxers, not caring who could see us. I hear the click of a camera go off, but I ignore it, too caught up in the moment as I slide my hands around to feel her boobs…only to be met with the hard definition of pecs.

I pull back suddenly, to be faced with a flushed, definitely masculine face and ice-blond hair.

"Al?!" Scor gasps. "You're not Rose!"

"And you're not Ria!" I hiss at him.

Shit.

"Congrats on identifying each other." An amused voice intones from next to us, and I turn to see Emma glancing at us, casually twirling an empty cocktail glass in her hand.

"That was a fucking hot snog!" Ria snorts, leaning over Emma's shoulder, laughing wickedly.

"I'm sticking this photo up beside my bed and touching myself to it every night." Rose cackles from Emma's other side, with a Wizarding camera around her neck. She's had way too much to drink. My cousin always gets incredibly excited about explicit stuff when she's wasted.

I groan and pull my boxers up from where Scor had pushed them down slightly.

He chuckles and pulls me flush against his chest, pecking my cheek. "Bet that was your dream come true, Potter. And mate, not to worry, you're not true best friends with someone until you've had a good snog with them."

Then he winks and turns to swap saliva with Rose instead.

I just stare. I think I'm in shock. Ria rubs my arm comfortingly, though she's still laughing like crazy. I turn to her. "Does that mean you and Scor have snogged?"

She snorts again. "Way to focus on the unimportant, Al."

Then she drags me to the dance floor again, leaving me idly considering how good a kisser Scor was, and the feeling like I'm never going to get an answer to that question.