Chapter 16 — Why Did It Have To Be Me?

I was so lonesome, I was blue
I couldn't help it, it had to be you
And I always thought you knew the reason why

"Did you lock the front door?" James asked sweetly, once they were all gathered on the illuminated shores of Brighton Beach, echoing Sam's mother's departing words to him.

Sam looked irritated. "We didn't use the front door, James. My mum doesn't really get how apparition works."

Of all of them, Sam was the only one to have visited the city before, having reluctantly assisted in helping Kayleigh move in before she'd returned to their family home in Nottingham, so he'd had the painstaking task of transporting them all one by one to their evening location.

"Who cares," Janey said impatiently, her eyes scanning the multitude of buildings along the promenade, wondering which one they'd be spending their evening in. To all of their surprise, once Sam was sure he had located it, following Kayleigh's handwritten instructions, they found themselves in front of a casino.

"It's a casino?" Scorpius was the one to voice.

Sam looked distressed. "But we don't have ID! Kayleigh never mentioned this—none of us are eighteen!"

"Speak for yourself," James said smugly, withdrawing, to their surprise, a plastic Muggle ID card.

Janey noticed he'd also bought the carrier bag full of bottles. When he noticed Janey's gaze, James offered a wink before knowingly pulling out his wand and casting a Disillusionment Charm. The bag and its contents turned almost imperceptibly transparent, only a slight sheen outlining what was truly there. James thrust the almost invisible bag to a disgruntled-looking Sam.

"James," he hissed, probably rightly mistrustful of the older boy.

"Relax," James instructed, an air of arrogance about him. "I got this." He sauntered up to the security guard, looking effortlessly cool in his leather jacket. Janey would normally have mocked a guy for wearing something so cliché and outdated, but, of course, James made it work. She couldn't help but think, with deep amusement, what Sam would look like if he were to don one.

James greeted the bouncer like an old friend, gladly showing him his ID. "It's fine—we're all eighteen," he said casually, nodding towards the group that consisted of one other eighteen-year-old and ten seventeen-year-olds. And before he could even question it, James had very quickly and very subtly given a flick of his wand down by his side.

The bouncer looked confused, like he'd forgotten what he was going to say, and to Sam's great relief, ushered them all inside with no further questions.

"Thank you, James," Sam reluctantly murmured, still begrudgingly clutching the bag of alcohol.

As they were walked through the casino, James' eyes lit up with glee.

"We are not gambling," Sam instructed the group fiercely, and though James looked mildly crestfallen, he didn't fight it.

Janey spotted a grand piano situated on one side of the venue, but it wasn't in use. "Ooh, a piano!" she said excitedly. "Do you think they'll let us use it?" The thought of singing whilst accompanied by a pianist was glamorous beyond belief. It would be like she was a real star. "Well," she considered, "if any of us knew how to play."

"Scorpius can play piano," Rose burst out, and then, for some inexplicable reason, turned bright red.

Janey wanted to investigate this further, but they were bustled away and her mind led elsewhere.

Once they were shown to their private booth, Janey's excitement surged once more. It was a compact area in a room secluded from the rest of the casino, wall to floor covered in plush velvet, with matching sofas lining the walls and several circular tables for which to hold their drinks. At one end, perhaps most exciting of all, was a raised platform, a vast screen sprawled across the wall, and ready and waiting at the side, several microphones.

Unable to hold it in, Janey let out a squeal of excitement.

"Go on, then," Sam relented, as everybody settled into the room with grateful appreciation for the luxe seclusion it offered. He held out a dramatic hand towards the tiny stage. "It's all yours."

The night that followed was one Janey would never forget so long as she lived.

She felt that, for her, performing must feel like to the others what it felt like to do magic, which she had always enjoyed but never been as entirely awed by as she perhaps felt she should. And as much as she loved Hogwarts, the stage was her home. It was where she felt like she could most dissociate from life—for a fleeting moment, be free from the mundane stresses and pressures that life had to offer. But, also, where she felt most carefree and lighthearted.

And as the drinks started flowing, and everybody's confidences began to grow, Janey tempted the others into joining her, some needing less coaxing than others. James, who had no shame anyway, but also wasn't half-bad, couldn't wait to have the spotlight on him. Janey was surprised, and also a little envious, that Ebony could sing as well as she could.

Was it not enough that she was already flawlessly beautiful and as tall as a house—she had also been blessed with the same pair of lungs as Christina Aguilera?

It was nice to see that side of her, as carefree and lighthearted as Janey felt, and she supposed the same must apply to her. Ebony was just, for one moment, a teenage girl out having fun with her friends, her tumultuous home life and her academic responsibilities all but forgotten. And, much to Janey's great joy, she and James did deliver one hell of a duet.

After James had secured them all a round of shots, Janey attempted her next genius idea. "We should totally do the Spice Girls!"

"The—what?" Rose asked, looking concerned. So far, she had been reluctant to sing, and Janey was determined to get her up on the stage. She knew Rose could actually sing very well, but she severely lacked the confidence to perform in front of a crowd. Janey also suspected there was a much more obvious block preventing her from truly cutting loose and risking foolishness in front of what should have been a trusted circle of friends—and that block took the form of something pale and blond.

"I'll be Posh," Janey declared, like anyone but her should know what she was talking about. "Gwen is obviously Sporty. Rose—Ginger," she said apologetically, eyeing the redhead's hair. "Taylor, you'll have to be Baby." Janey turned her attention to the two remaining girls, weighing up her options.

"I could do with a break," Ebony offered, making the decision much easier.

Janey's eyes lit up as they fell on Jinx who, so far, had managed to avoid the microphones too. "Not to be racially insensitive, but you do make an excellent Scary."

Jinx narrowed her eyes. "I'm not sure what on earth any of that is supposed to mean."

"Just sing," Janey commanded, thrusting the spare microphone at the unsuspecting girl.

And their girlband was complete.

Janey very quickly realised her error in assigning herself the one Spice Girl who practically never sung, so seamlessly took it upon herself to take the lead, which everybody seemed grateful for. Janey couldn't believe how much fun she was having, and it seemed like the others, with each new round of drinks in them, seemed to be sharing in the excitement just as much.

Gwen also happened to be a very good singer, which Janey had already known, and she was pleasantly surprised by Jinx too. Taylor very much could not hold a tune to save her life, but when you had as much confidence and sheer passion as she did, nobody really seemed to care. Even Mason and Albus got stuck in and capably held their own.

But Janey couldn't be too surprised, because she had witnessed them all participate in the brief setup in the common room. The only Gryffindor she had never heard sing, and the one she was most intrigued by, was Sam. And if he held any trepidation, he certainly didn't show it, because he was happy to engage as much as anyone else. Janey wasn't sure, if it weren't her birthday, and he hadn't already had the better part of a bottle of Firewhisky, he would have been so confident, but she was delighted by the fact that he could very competently carry a tune too.

"I didn't know you could sing!" she accused, thrilled.

"Well, I've never entertained anyone outside of my shower," he replied, and then looked flustered. "I've not entertained anyone inside of my shower either," he added for good measure. "I just meant—"

Janey kissed him, partially to shut him up, and partially because the thought of him in the shower, singing no less, seemed to have driven her body to act of its own accord. She seemed a little hesitant when she realised what she'd done—initiating snogging in a small room that contained all of their friends—and pulled away, now almost as maroon as her mini-dress.

Sam looked alarmed but delighted, Janey's dark red lipstick now smeared across his mouth. It wasn't like she hadn't kissed him in front of their friends—it's just that she normally reserved the heavier stuff for when they were alone. Whenever they were at the beach, she always bustled him away from prying eyes, and her slight lapse now made her highly aware of exactly how many people had just seen her do that.

Janey decided to act like it had never happened and carry on as normal. She focused her attention elsewhere, ignoring how flustered she still felt.

The only two absolutely refusing to participate were Scorpius and Albireo, and Janey wasn't going to stand for it.

"Absolutely not," they both said as Janey proffered two microphones in their direction.

"Ah, why not, you can do a duet!"

Neither of them looked thrilled by the suggestion. Janey decided she knew Scorpius better and targeted her energy to him instead. "But it's my birthday," she said sweetly.

"Yes," Scorpius said sweetly back, "and I sang 'Happy Birthday' to you earlier already."

Janey pouted. "You can sing with Rose?" she offered.

Scorpius remained thoroughly untempted, and Rose herself looked at Janey sharply.

"Why don't we sing together?" Sam suggested, and Janey's eagerness to do so completely overpowered her desire to get Scorpius on the stage.

"Really?" she asked breathlessly.

Sam grinned down at her. "I've already cued up the perfect song."

Janey was deeply intrigued. Sam didn't seem like the kind of guy who knew much about music, nor like, if he did, he'd have the same interests as Janey. "Which song?" she asked suspiciously.

"Abba," he said cryptically.

"Abba?" Janey repeated, surprised.

Sam shrugged. "Come on, everybody's seen Mamma Mia."

Janey thought she might throw herself at him again but stood her ground."Mamma Mia?" she asked excitedly, aware that she was just repeating everything he was saying.

"Mamma Mia Two," Sam clarified, which didn't help the urges whatsoever. He extended a hand, and Janey gratefully took it, allowing Sam to drag her onto the raised platform.

James let out an appreciative whistle as the others drunkenly cheered, and for the first time that night, Janey felt self-conscious. Not because she was about to sing, but because singing with Sam somehow felt more meaningful than singing with her girlfriends, or with James. As all eyes fell on them, she felt rather like they were all witnessing them have another snog. It was something meaningful and intimate.

But as they got into it, Janey realised, with great delight, that she and Sam were a perfect match. And as they sang together, staring not at their rowdy friends, who were cheering along, but only at each other, Janey realised that this, indeed, was what happiness was for her. Something seemed to linger between them, something full of charged longing, prickling beneath the skin. Janey felt hot all of a sudden, like Sam's gaze alone was enough to ignite a fire that seemed to burn through her from head to toe, engulfing her in a sensation she couldn't quite describe.

To distract herself, she squealed with delight when they were done, flinging her arms around him without hesitation, not letting their lips touch but instead content just to wrap her arms around him. And then, once more realising they were on display, she took Sam by the hand and dragged him away. Which only garnered another whistle from James.

Janey flipped him off, and soon enough, whoever else was cued up next took up the mantle, the attention no longer falling on her and Sam. He settled into a chair in a somewhat secluded corner away from the prying eyes of their friends, and Janey gladly settled onto his lap, desperately wishing they were truly alone.

"You were incredible," Sam breathed so only she could hear. He had one hand on her back to support her, the other placed casually on her thigh.

Janey wondered if he'd be so bold had he not consumed as much alcohol as he had. Despite his initial reluctance to James smuggling it in, Sam had very quickly made his peace with the decision and had no objections to the two legal adults securing them plenty of rounds from the bar.

Janey also wondered if he knew that the gentle touch of his fingertips on her exposed skin was enough to make her whole body tingle with desire. But she brushed it off as nothing more than the buzz from the alcohol the instant she was aware of this thought having entered her mind.

"So were you," she said coyly in response to his compliment.

"Are you having a good time?"

"The best," Janey gushed, but she knew her words couldn't actually convey how much she had enjoyed the day—from start to finish. Although, she thought, and for whatever reason, it also made her feel heated, the day wasn't finished yet.

"Sorry about inflicting my family on you earlier," Sam apologised. "I thought it would be nice to all hang out before the evening, but I, uh, couldn't really afford to hire anywhere else."

Janey felt guilty that he would even think he needed to have done that, and then worried about how much money the evening might have set him back already.

"No, I loved it," Janey insisted.

"And my mum wanted to see you." Sam rolled his eyes. "Because she baked you a cake."

"And I loved it," Janey repeated firmly. "No one's ever baked me a cake before!"

Sam looked pleased by this. "Well, I'm glad I could finally give you one. You deserve it. You deserve"—for whatever reason, he hesitated, looking nervous—"the world."

For one fleeting moment, Janey almost had a lapse in judgement and said something like, "You are my world," but caught herself before she could be so idiotic. Definitely the alcohol was starting to wreak havoc on her judgement. Instead, she kissed him. Not heavily, but enough to leave another smear of lipstick across his mouth, which she tenderly wiped away with her thumb.

Taking her by surprise, himself looking startled, Sam suddenly declared, "I haven't even given you your present."

Another alcohol-induced lapse in judgement caused Janey to assume this was some dirty innuendo, but she realised Sam was being perfectly serious, and that hanging around James all day was just taking its toll.

"This isn't the present?" she asked.

Sam had a very smug look about him, and once more Janey felt a craving for him beyond anything she had previously felt. "Of course not," he said. "I also got you an actual present."

"But the flowers," Janey said in surprise, because really, that was all already more than she possibly could have expected.

"That was just a pre-present," Sam dismissed, digging in his pocket. He pulled out a sleek box that Janey immediately, hungrily identified as jewellery. Well, that was surprising. They had only been together for just over a month, and Sam was already buying her jewellery? Janey had to remind herself that hers and Sam's budgets were likely vastly different, but she was eager to see what he had chosen nonetheless. Even if it were the ugliest thing in the world—and she was very particular about what she liked—it was the thought that counted.

"It's not much," Sam apologised, now suddenly looking like he regretted buying her anything at all.

Janey was a little nervous as she took the box from him, unsure of what Sam's levels of taste would be like. She also suddenly feared it might be something sentimental. Some hideous locket with their initials intertwined, or the date they'd first snogged etched into it, that she would be expected to wear around her neck like some kind of dog. Proof of ownership. Proof of something more permanent than she was ready to accept.

She arranged her face as best she could, knowing she could feign politeness if need be. Whatever it was, Sam had obviously put at least some thought into it, and assumed it would be something he would care about whether she liked or not.

With trepidation more so than the initial curiosity and excitement she'd felt, Janey opened it up, and her heart sank. It was a necklace, simple, with a fine silver chain, and a pendant with something engraved on it.

Oh, God, she thought, it was going to be his name, wasn't it?

But as she picked it up, letting the chain slip between her fingers like water, she saw that it was just one singular letter. Okay, she supposed a simple 'S' was less horrendous than an entire first name. She could wear it out of obligation a few times to keep him happy, but it needn't be too big of a deal.

"What do you think?" Sam asked, looking nervous.

Janey realised she hadn't said anything or shown any kind of reaction whatsoever. "It's beautiful," she said, because it was. It was simple in design, but it was a nice necklace, and if it had anything other than the initial of the boy she'd been seeing for only a month on it, she might have been tempted to don it on a casual basis.

But as Janey lifted the pendant closer to her, squinting in the low lighting, she realised that the twisting symbol she assumed to have been an 'S' wasn't at all.

"It's a 'J'," she said in awe.

Sam looked confused by her reaction. "Yeah? For Janey?"

She blushed, feeling stupid. "I thought it might have been an 'S'," she confessed, and Sam seemed to understand her reaction more.

"Well, that was my first thought," Sam admitted, "but I thought you'd hate that, and it seemed like a bit of a pompous thing to assume you'd want."

Janey felt guilty for having thought exactly that.

"That seemed more Rose and Scorpius' style," Sam said slyly, and Janey couldn't help but snort in agreement. The day they actually admitted they were back together, they were going to be the most embarrassingly soppy losers of a couple, Janey thought. Shameless public declarations of their love like a horrible repeat of their fifteen-year-old selves. But each to their own. As long as they were happy.

"And besides," Sam went on. "You don't need anything or anyone else to define you. You're Janey."

"You mean I'm a narcissist?"

"You're not a narcissist," Sam protested, laughing. "I just mean…" And he looked serious all of a sudden, his voice dropping low and tender. "You're just self-assured. You know exactly what you want, and you're not afraid to go after it. You're the most unique person I know. You have a confidence in you, about who you are, that I think is truly incredible, and you find a way to dominate every room you're in without even trying. You're so fierce, and stubborn, but it's only because you care so much. There's no one stronger or more determined than you. There's no one else like you at all, Janey."

Janey took a few seconds to wipe the back of her hand across her mouth, removing any remaining traces of lipstick. And then, not caring who saw them, she wound her hand into Sam's hair and kissed him for all she was worth. It really was the best birthday ever.

"Wait," she said abruptly, stopping just as she'd barely started.

Sam looked dazed, like he'd just been rudely awoken from a deep slumber.

"Can you put it on me?"

Sam continued to look confused until she held up the fine chain. "Oh, of course," he said.

As Janey lifted her hair to expose the back of her neck, she felt the hairs there tingle at his lingering touch. Sam handled the tiny clasp of the necklace with surprising grace and Janey couldn't help but wonder how he'd fare with the clasp of a bra with amusement, but kept it to herself. Something about the way his fingertips lightly grazed the base of her neck drove her crazy, and she wondered if he felt the same, or if this new surge of intense longing was purely one-sided and likely alcohol-fuelled.

As if he somehow knew exactly what his touch was doing to her—but really, how could he?—Sam pressed his lips to the base of her neck, just above where the new necklace lay, and not only did the skin where his mouth had made contact tingle with delight, so it seemed did every inch of her body.

As much as Janey wanted to linger, she once again felt incredibly exposed, like the whole room was seeing her naked. And before fleeting thoughts of nudity could dominate her mind, she turned back towards Sam. A meaningful look seemed to pass between them for just a second, and then they were snogging once more, and Janey couldn't have cared less who might be watching. It was like they were the only two people in the whole entire world, let alone that corner of the room. And anyway, it was her birthday.

Janey couldn't be sure whether it was intentional or not, as she felt Sam's hand creep further up her thigh, but she very much liked the way he was gripping her. She wondered if he would be so bold had they not drunk as much as they had.

"Hate to be the one to interrupt," James interrupted, slurring his words ever so slightly. "But we're about to be kicked out."

Janey detached her face from Sam's, startled. "What, why?" she demanded. Were there rules about snogging in the karaoke booths? Perhaps it wasn't really all as private as she'd assumed.

"Oh," Sam said sheepishly. "Yeah, I only booked it until midnight."

"It's midnight?" Janey echoed. Wow, time really had flown.

"Sure is," James said apologetically. "But I'm sure you kids can take this back home for an after party, if you know what I mean." He offered Sam a wink to emphasise his point.

Janey wanted to hit him. She didn't, though. Instead, she gracefully removed herself from Sam's lap, smoothing down her dress like she hadn't been doing anything remotely unsavoury. "Do we have time for one more?" she asked.

James shrugged. "I think we'd all appreciate it if you didn't, but who am I to discourage young love?"

"I meant a song," Janey hissed at him, whilst James smirked with delight.

"I'm sure we can," Sam mumbled, he too rising to his feet and trying not to look dishevelled.

James just grinned at him as he passed, folding his arms across his chest.

"What?" Sam asked irritably.

"You might want to wipe the lipstick off your face," James said knowingly.

Sam hastily did so, feeling flustered.

Janey succeeded in encouraging everyone to join her for one last number, flinging her arms around her fellow Gryffin-Girls, and she realised with a thrill, that even Scorpius and Albireo were unsubtly singing along under their breath. It was the perfect end to a perfect night.

Or so she thought.

Although Janey hadn't arranged any of that day's activities, she felt obliged to oversee the safe departure of all her friends, almost feeling guilty for how worse for wear a lot of them seemed, even though that had very much been due to James' intervention. Taylor was probably the worst of them all. Janey hugged them each goodbye before they disapparated, noticing that, as well as James and Ebony, Rose and Scorpius left together. She was sure he would just be making sure she got home okay, and themselves probably engaging in some snogging of their own now that they would have some privacy from the others, but Janey's eager intrigue disappeared immediately when she realised she was alone with Sam.

She very much wanted to get back to doing what they'd been doing before James had interrupted, especially now that they were truly hidden from prying eyes, but Sam clearly had other ideas.

"We should clear out," he said, "before we're kicked out."

Janey just stared up at him, face full of the adoration she felt in her heart.

"What?" Sam asked, amused.

"Nothing," Janey said with a casual shrug. "I'm just really, really happy."

Sam returned her smile, his eyes shining too. "I'm very glad to hear it." Something faltered slightly in his demeanour, and he hesitated before he next spoke. "Do you want me to take you home?" he offered.

Janey was very suddenly aware of her heart thumping within her chest. Of course she wanted Sam to take her home, and then she wanted to do what they always did when they were alone together in her house, but she didn't know, exactly, what he was suggesting, and as it was so much later than when they ever hung out together, she didn't want to insinuate anything. Sam was never so bold; he was probably just being chivalrous.

"Sure," she said carefully, unsure of his exact intentions. She wasn't going to show her cards until he did.

Taking her hand, and smiling broadly, he transported them both to her home in London.

Janey let out a startled exclamation, and Sam immediately began to panic. "What happened? Are you okay?" He looked frantic, and Janey almost laughed.

"Oh, no," she apologised. "It's just… I left my flowers at your house."

Sam looked relieved and then annoyed. "Jesus Christ, Janey, I thought you had splinched!"

Janey found his alarm amusing but knew he wouldn't appreciate her showing it. "I'm fine," she insisted. "But it makes you think… Apparating whilst you're inebriated is kind of like drunk driving, isn't it?"

"I'm not inebriated," Sam said, oddly defensive.

Janey said nothing, bemused. He might not have been as out of it as James had been—and Taylor, funnily enough—but he certainly wasn't sober, and she wondered why he was insisting he was. She felt nervous once more—was there more to why he'd wanted to take her home?

"And I'm not blonde," she said jovially, which prompted a laugh.

"I'm not that inebriated," Sam clarified, and again, Janey couldn't help but wonder why he wanted to emphasise this. "And I can bring your flowers over tomorrow," he offered.

Janey's entire body felt light. So he was inviting himself over tomorrow? She certainly had no objections, quite forgetting her father would be home. But really, if he was just going to be coming around again, and as it was already so late, why shouldn't he just… stay the night?

Janey swallowed the nervous lump that had formed in her throat, hoping Sam couldn't sense anything in her shifting demeanour. She had not known where that thought had stemmed from and hurriedly pushed it away.

"I'd like that," she said instead, clinging to his arm as they walked up her drive.

As they approached the front door, Janey felt that familiar prickle of anxiety. She really, really didn't want Sam to go, but it was so late already, and if she were to invite him in, wouldn't that seem a little suggestive? She was desperately trying not to think about the unwanted idea that had briefly flitted into her mind.

Sam bent down to kiss her, placing each hand either side of her face, and for all he'd denied it, she could taste the sweet lingering notes of alcohol on his lips. "Goodnight, Janey," he murmured against her mouth, clearly showing no signs of actually wanting to leave.

"Wait," she said impulsively, desperate for him to stay a little longer. "Why don't you come in?" she suggested, hoping her tone didn't sound like she was offering him anything more than she was. But really, she wasn't sure of it herself anymore.

Sam looked slightly nervous. "It's, uh, it's pretty late," he reminded her. "I should probably… go home."

Janey couldn't be sure whether he was just being polite, but she felt, for sure, that she detected something in his eyes that let her know he didn't really want to go either. "Just five minutes?" she suggested, once more unsure what exactly she was inviting him in for.

"Okay," Sam conceded with a slight gulp, and Janey unlocked the door, leading him into the vast house that was now surely almost as familiar as his own.

Without really thinking about it, Janey naturally made her way upstairs to her bedroom where they often hung out during the day, Sam following hesitantly behind.

"Do you want a drink?" she suggested, not because she thought he really did, but because it seemed like the normal thing to do.

"No, I'm okay, thanks," he politely declined.

Sam looked nervous at being in her bedroom under the cover of darkness, and Janey felt furious at herself for letting him think there was anything untoward happening with her suggestion that he hang around for five more minutes. She just didn't want the night to end. The instant he left, she would be alone, and her birthday would be over.

"Could you help me?" Janey asked, indicating to the necklace she'd been wearing all evening.

"Sure." As Sam unclasped the chain from around her neck, the touch of his fingertips once more sending thrills of energy through her body, Janey tried to act like she didn't desperately feel anything of the kind. She wondered if he could sense the new feelings of anticipation running through her body, and if he was feeling anything similar. But if he did, he didn't let on. That time, he didn't linger, and he didn't kiss the base of her neck like before, no matter how much she might have wanted him to.

It was probably for the best, she reasoned.

Sam handed the chain back to her, and Janey took it gratefully, placing it back into its box. "I really love it," she confessed. "I loved," she gulped, "everything about today."

Sam looked proud of himself, but not in a smug way. In a way that seemed to make him feel genuinely warm inside.

"It's your birthday," he said, seemingly starting to relax. "You deserve the world."

He and Janey were facing each other, barely a foot apart, her peering up at him through her long lashes. He had never been more attractive to her, and it seemed crazy to her that she had ever denied how much she enjoyed looking at him.

"I just don't get it," she said breathlessly. "Why you're so nice to me?"

"Because I—" And whatever Sam might have been about to say, he stopped abruptly, deciding against it. When he chose his next words, he did so with a calm confidence. "Because I care about you, Janey. And I want you to realise that you're allowed to let people show you kindness."

But it was more than kindness, she wanted to protest. Everything he did was so sweet, so thoughtful.

"And," Sam went on, a mischievous smile breaking out, "it's only for one day of the year, isn't it?"

Janey laughed, grateful that the air of intense sentimentality seemed to have been displaced. "Well," she said playfully, "it's after midnight now, so technically my birthday is over, and you can go back to being horrible."

Sam took hold of both of her hands. "I don't think I could ever go back to being horrible to you. And anyway," he said, "your birthday's not over until you go to sleep. Semantics don't matter."

"Yeah?" she asked,

"Yeah. So if there's anything else you want, you have five more minutes of me being contractually nice to you to abuse your power."

Janey felt her heart rate pick up again ever so slightly. If he'd been trying to be suggestive he wouldn't have been so confident, she rationalised, but her mind had immediately drifted to the thing she knew she daren't think about.

"Anything?" she asked quietly, daring, wondering if they were even remotely on the same page.

"Well, within reason," Sam went on, quite obliviously happy. "I'm limited in my abilities—and my wallet."

"You already gave me everything I want," Janey insisted. "The flowers, the party, the necklace, the karaoke…"

Still holding her hands, he began to subconsciously run his thumbs along the back of them like he so often did. "You only turn seventeen once," was all he said with a kind smile.

Seventeen, Janey thought to herself. It was considered of age in the Wizarding World. The age you officially became an adult. She felt the heat prickle again at the back of her neck as that persistent longing stirred up once more within her core.

"There is… one thing," Janey dared to say, moved by her own confidence. Was she really going to suggest this? Sam was so hard to read; she couldn't be sure where exactly his mind was at.

"Yeah?" He looked curious, his beautiful brown eyes staring deep into her own. "Anything," he vowed, and if she wasn't mistaken, he did look like he was urging her on. To speak it into existence.

Janey took a step towards him, closing the tiny gap that had been there. Sam looked down at her, and she noticed he was staring directly at her lips, breathlessly, longingly. She had him right in the palm of her hand.

Janey knew now, exactly what she wanted, and exactly how deeply she wanted it.

"Sam," she said, taking a shaky breath. And yet, there was a confidence within her. "I want you to sleep with me."

Author's Note: Title and epigraph inspired by Abba's 'Why Did It Have To Be Me?'—which, obviously, had to be the duet Sam and Janey performed!

Going forward, my aim is to upload every Sunday, though it will be just one chapter each week (or maybe the occasional two-parter), but thank you so much for rejoining me on my journey with this story—I promise I won't get AWOL for the next eight years! See you next week!