Owen was on his usual night patrol, lost in his thoughts.

Their plan had worked better than they'd expected—it had been over a week since, and the two troublemakers had stopped talking to each other. Of course, there was no guarantee this would last the entire school year; Now it mostly depended on how well Rosalind would do her part.

At first, when Rosalind had presented him with this idea after this year's first perfect meeting, he thought she was crazy. "It's perfect," she had claimed. "Think about it. This is exactly what could help separate them once and for all. It will keep her away from him; it's clear that she's into him—"

"How can you know that?" Owen had interrupted her, disturbed by how appealing her suggestion was to him

"I just know." She smiled. "Just like how I know you have a soft spot for Olivia."

Owen stared at her. This was exactly the kind of plan only a crazy Slytherin mind could come up with. It was one of the reasons why he appreciated Rosalind—she always knew how to find a solution to every problem, however bizarre. The only issue was that her solutions were rarely moral.

Thus, his initial response had been, "No, absolutely not. do whatever you want but not with my help."

But when, during the first week of school, he had to deduct about 40 points from Gryffindor just because of those two, he began to realise he might have something to gain from her plan.

Yes, if embarrassment could indeed separate those two—something he wasn't convinced about, despite Rosalind's insistence that it would—then it was worth a try.

Of course, he wasn't doing it just for his house score. Rosalind wasn't entirely wrong in her perception—he really did have a soft spot for Olivia. But not only for the reasons Rosalind had thought. He simply knew that Olivia and him were alike. They were the only two students at school who stayed at Hogwarts during all the holidays. Of course, even then Olivia would insist on ignoring him and keeping her distance, especially since he became the headboy. But he always felt a connection with her—he knew she was just lost, like he had been in his early years at Hogwarts. And the worst thing that could happen to a lost person was being taken in by James Thompson, who specialised in making lost people find the wrong way.

Maybe he pitied her too much. After all, she initiated a lot of the trouble they've gotten into. But unlike James, towards whom Evan felt only distance and resentment, he felt other things towards Olivia.

In any case, he did not show his feelings outwardly. He remained neutral towards her, punished her like he would any other student who behaved like she did, and she hated him for it. And on many occasions when he punished her, he couldn't help but think about how far she might have gone without Thompson's negative influence.

That's why, at last, he agreed to the plan.

Yet, when the plan was put into action, he regretted it. He ran to the Hospital Wing in a last attempt to call her, to prevent her from seeing what Rosalind wanted her to see. But, apparently, it was too late.

Now he felt guilty. Both about the whole situation, and particularly about what happened between them in the abandoned classroom two days ago.

Yes, it was Olivia who asked him to help her come, and he only complied. He constantly reminded himself of this fact to ease his guilt. But he was the one who took her there, he was the one who kissed her, and more than anything—he knew she was under the influence of the potion, and in some way, he took advantage of that.

He knew what Rosalind would say about his guilt—she would claim that if not him, Olivia would've found someone else to have sex with, as it was very difficult to be under the influence of the potion without having sex. And if she needed it right now, why not with him?

But Rosalind's moral relativism didn't work on him.

That's why he tried to avoid Olivia's gaze as much as he could, even though he knew she searched for his eyes at any chance she got.

In a way, it pleased him. He had seen her looks before he had touched her, focused mostly on James, full of pain. James, of course, was too busy with Rosalind to notice. But Owen noticed. But now Olivia's eyes were constantly searching for him. And every time their eyes met by chance, he felt a pang of guilt.

What made ignoring her even harder, was the fact that she had gradually started to come to classes again, and suddenly looked different. Before, there had always been a feeling that Olivia was trying to hide her femininity. Of course, it was impossible to hide in her case, but her attempts to at least disguise it sometimes succeeded. Since she returned from her sick days, she had stopped hiding herself. She walked with her back straight, styled her hair differently, and wore her school uniform in a way that accentuated her figure rather than hiding it. And the energy she radiated was different too, perhaps influenced by the potion.

Owen knew he wasn't the only one who had noticed — The other boys at Hogwarts saw it too, their gazes following her at the Great Hall. And, of course, Thompson noticed as well—if there was one thing that idiot was good at, it was noticing girls. Owen saw him trying to speak to her a few times between classes, but Olivia ignored him.

Two facts became clear to Owen: first, they hadn't correctly assessed how important Olivia's friendship was to James, as they hadn't anticipated he would be so insistent in trying to talk to her. And second, was that if he would keep waiting, Olivia would indeed find someone else to relieve herself with, just as Rosalind predicted.

It saddened him, but his conscience wouldn't allow him to go do anything sexual with her again.

He sighed, shook off his thoughts, and refocused on his night patrol. The patrol route was set by the teachers, but always liked to add a few more spots that he knew mischievous students often frequented. One of these places was the secret terrace on the fourth floor. A few students knew the spell that could close the terrace, making it a private space. After big Quidditch games he would find drunken, giggling couples who were trying to find the terrace and, failing that, decided to make out in the corridor. But there were, of course, some more sophisticated students. Last year, Olivia and James used to disappear for hours. Owen suspected, and shared his suspicion with Professor Linburn, who, as usual, smiled at his thoroughness and revealed the spell that helps uncover the terrace after someone had closed it. That's how he discovered James and Olivia sitting there, apparently they were using the place as their designated weed-smoking spot. He gave both of them detention.

He still remembered Olivia's face when he caught them—flustered and annoyed. James just giggled like an idiot, but Olivia had looked completely sober when she stared at him that day, fire in her eyes

Now he was surprised to see her again by the secret terrace, her expression completely different. She stood there, pressed against the wall, letting him discover her.

"Olivia," he said in surprise. Then he cleared his throat. "What are you doing here?"

"I was waiting for you," she said softly, moving closer to him.

He glanced around, ensuring they were alone. "This isn't—Olivia, this is not appropriate."

She moved closer. "Why not?" she asked earnestly, looking into his eyes.

He swallowed, trying not to look too guilty. "I don't think you're... I don't think you're in a position to make decisions like this—"

She shook her head. "I know what I want. I want more from what you've given me the other day."

He sighed. For a moment, he hesitated about what to do next. Finally, he decided to go with the course of action he was already familiar with—scolding her. "You shouldn't have come here," he said, faking a serious tone. "I'll have to take points from Gryffindor—"

"Please, Owen," she moved closer to him. "I can't stop thinking about it. Please."

He looked at her, trying to restrain himself. She was very tempting at that moment. He had always thought she looked good; he didn't need all the changes she made in order to think so, but there was no doubt they emphasised what he already knew. She had one too many open buttons in her school shirt, and the fact that he was taller than her by a head and a half gave him a captivating view of her cleavage. Her lips parted with a needy expression, her large eyes looking pleadingly. Her skirt was short—not too short, about the same length as most girls at Hogwarts—but on her, it looked much less innocent than it did on other girls. He sighed as his gaze followed her hand as it caressed her shirt's neckline, and then looked down to the white thigh exposed beneath her skirt.

He made one last, desperate attempt to reframe the situation. "You're crossing the line," he said, his voice hardening even more. "If you won't stop immediately, I'll have to give you detention." It was clear to both of them that he was trying to turn the situation into the familiar scenario they both knew by heart.

She only shook her head in frustration. "I don't understand why you'd touch me like that only to pull away immediately afterward?" The vulnerability in her voice pierced his heart. "Did I do something wrong?"

He sighed. Ï don't want to hurt you."

She gave him a piercing look. "You think too highly of yourself if you think you can hurt me." and then she mumbled the spell which closed the terrace.

"Olivia," Owen protested, trying to match his voice with an authoritative tone, but she ignored him. She opened her button-up shirt in clumsy movements, then opened the back of her bra. When she revealed her breasts, the air felt heavier somehow. Owen stood before her, trying to keep a blank face, but his eyes betrayed him, and he kept looking at her up-and-down. She got closer to him, playing with the elastic band of her skirt, lowering it ever so slightly.

Owen took a deep breath. "Are you sure you want it?"

She nodded. "Please," she added quietly.

Owen closed his eyes. Then he opened them, and his expression changed. He got closer to her, put his hand on her shoulder and lowered her to her knees. She bit her lip and then, with a slight hesitation, opened the button of his trousers and rolled them down slowly, along with his underwear, until his hard cock sprung out of them. Owen swallowed and took off his shirt. Olivia looked at him with big eyes as he took his clothes off. He wanted to devour her, with her beautiful face, her round, perked breasts, her perfectly curvy body, he couldn't stop looking at her.

He breathed heavily while she started to suck his cock. At first he tried to be quiet, but slowly his self-control weakened as he started to sigh softly as she moved her mouth up and down, looking straight into his eyes. It was clear that she knew what to do even though it was clear she wasn't very experienced, but her amateurness seemed sweet and appealing to him. Plus - she was very eager to please. He put a hand on the top of her head, at first just caressing her hair, and then pulling softly, encouraging her to go faster, until he felt as if he was about to come, and stopped her.

"Get up," he ordered, and then kissed her, pressing her against the wall. His fingers slithered between her legs. "You're so wet," he grunted, and looked at her eyes lustfully.

Olivia sighed. "Please," she asked again, desperate. He pulled her and turned her around, and then answered her pleas.
She sighed when he pleasured her with his fingers from behind as his cock was rubbing against her thigh. He focused on her clit, leaning in to kiss her back and deepen the motion. She moaned wildly in response, moving and squirming against his fingers. A small part of him didn't believe it was happening, that she's really his right now, making these voices because of him, desperate to feel his touch. He then flicked her clit as he already knew she liked it from last time, and before he could do it faster, she already came, her pussy tightening up on his fingers. Owen got up and looked at her, squeezed against the wall, her ass high, legs spread, inner tights wet. He liked seeing her like that. He leaned in again and kissed her softly on her back, along the line of her spine, and felt how she shivered a bit from the touch of his lips on her skin.

Then, shortly after catching her breath, she looked at him over her shoulder. Still panting a little, she said, "please, Owen, I want you inside of me," and parted her pussy lips in front of his eyes.

There was no universe in which he could say no to that request.

He got closer to her, holding her by her hip, and then, slowly, penetrated her. It was unbelievable how wet she was, her pussy still throbs from the orgasm. She immediately sighed and he had to bite his lips to not make a noise as well. He started to fuck her slowly, holding her lower back area as he thrusted. Olivia sighed loder, repeatedly, every time he slipped deeper inside others, and sometimes even murmured "yes..." or "more" in a small voice. He learned forward to touch her as he fucked her, bruding her clit with his fingers ever so slightly, teasing, hearing her become even louder.

Only then did he realise how long he wanted this to happen.

Yes, he imagined fucking Olivia before. He imagined how we'll act, what she'll sound and feel. He knew back then that there was almost no chance for it to actually happen - she hated him, and that was that. And still he couldn't help but fantasising about it. Mostly he imagined she'll be dominant, sometimes he thought maybe she'll be wild. But he never thought she'd be So different from how she usually was. so... soft. It was better his imagination, almost too good to be true. She surrendered to his touch, gave herself to him and let him lead her to pleasure. He liked how she let him feel that she wants him, that she needs him.

He sighed and fucked her harder, still toying with her clit as he went faster. She moaned his name as she came again. He could feel her fastened heartbeat on his lips as he kissed her neck, her pussy squeezing on his cock. It was enough to send him over the edge, and he came inside of her, panting into her ear.

At first they both breathed heavily, leaning and holding into each other. Then she turned to him, hugging him. Even though he just came, he felt a little hint of pleasure from her naked body pressing into him. He kissed her, caressing her face, who was covered with a thin layer of sweat.

She looked up to him, a determined expression at her face."I want us to do it again," she said. "Could we?"

Owen smiled softly, and without words, smiled and nodded.