Chapter 30 – Daydreamin'

It's the way you walk
The way you talk
The way you make me feel inside

I don't want to wait for tonight

"Come on," Janey said, heading up the stairs inside the house, Sam's hand still clutched in hers.

"Are you sure we should be going up here?" he asked warily. "Wouldn't a broom cupboard be downstairs?"

"I don't know," Janey said with a shrug, still ascending the stairs. She'd never spent time in the Potters' house and in truth wanted to have a bit of a nose around. It was arguable that Hogwarts had been the making of James Sirius Potter, but she wanted to see where he'd spent his childhood years.

Sam was looking around anxiously as they got to the landing, as though they were doing something that could land them in trouble, but it was clear Janey's curiosity was dominating any apprehension she could possibly have felt.

"What?" she asked with a snort. "Aren't you curious?"

"About what?" Sam answered. "We're guests in somebody's house and we're… snooping?"

"We're looking for the brooms," Janey said casually, opening a door and peering into a family bathroom.

"Janey," Sam protested as she moved onto the next room—a bedroom with blue floral wallpaper and fluffy throw cushions on the single bed, evidently that of a teenage girl's. "This doesn't feel right." He really didn't feel comfortable even looking into Lily Potter's bedroom.

"Cute curtains," Janey mused before she closed the door and moved on.

Sam threw another glance over his shoulder before hastily following Janey further down the landing.

"Ooh, now this is more like it!"

Janey had flung open another door and was peering into a different bedroom. This one was far less neat and was heavily adorned with red and gold décor and Quidditch paraphernalia. Hogwarts textbooks were stacked up in a pile in the corner.

Sam stood awkwardly in the doorway, feeling like he was betraying his friend's privacy in some way. He certainly wouldn't like it if they all came around to his house and started examining his childhood bedroom. It was a place of solace. It wasn't like at Hogwarts where they all had a shared dorm.

"Janey, come on," he said gently as he watched her flick through what appeared to be a Quidditch magazine on the bedside table.

But before he knew it, she was on the floor, peering beneath the bed.

"What are you doing now?" Sam hissed.

"Looking for the brooms, duh!"

"They're hardly going to be underneath James' bed, are they?"

Janey pulled something out. "I hope there's not a bag of kinky sex stuff under here—I bet he and Ebony are real freaks."

"Bloody hell, Janey!"

She wrinkled her nose as she peered into the duffel bag she'd retrieved. "Ew, it's just dirty Quidditch robes."

Sam was still forcibly standing in the doorway, refusing to enter the room any further and accompany Janey in her act of privacy invasion. He whipped his head around towards the stairs, certain he had heard someone entering the house downstairs.

"Can we go back now?" he pleaded, imagining Ginny coming upstairs to find Sam and Janey rifling through her son's stuff.

"Fine," Janey sighed, heaving herself up from the floor. "You're so boring."

"I'm not boring," Sam immediately said, defences up. "I just don't think we should be snooping around other people's bedrooms. Let's go."

But to his horror, Janey plonked herself down onto the bed and looked around at her surroundings, deep curiosity still etched onto her face.

"Alright, fine," Sam said, throwing his hands up in defeat. "I'm going back by myself!"

"Don't!" Janey pleaded, and Sam stopped in his tracks. He said nothing, but instead just glared at her.

Janey flashed him her most enticing smile, blinking up at him through her long lashes, and rubbed the duvet next to her in a 'come hither' motion.

"What?" Sam asked dumbly.

"Sit with me," she said suggestively.

"No!" Sam said in horror.

"Oh, come on," Janey protested. "Isn't it nice to get away from everybody else for just a while?"

"Well, yeah," Sam said, softening slightly, "but not in somebody else's bedroom."

He understood that Janey still found it uncomfortable to be so openly affectionate with him around their friends. Not to mention their friends' parents and their school professors. It was no wonder—she had been openly berating him for years, and to suddenly start showing a softer side would be to betray a sense of vulnerability she would never be so comfortable with.

Janey said nothing but cocked her head and continued to bat her eyelashes.

With great reluctance, Sam sighed and fully entered the room. He sat down next to her, arms folded.

Janey beamed at him before leaning her head against his shoulder. Sam wondered how it would be when they went back to Hogwarts when it would be even rarer for them to find stolen moments to be together.

It would be their seventh and final year at the school, and naturally, they'd want to spend as much time together as a friendship group whilst they still could. Sam and Janey would have ample opportunity to be in each other's company, he knew. Not only were they both obviously in the same house and would therefore spend most of their free time in the Gryffindor Common Room, as well as sharing lessons, they would also have Prefect meetings together, and Quidditch practice. In fact, Sam wasn't sure there'd be much time he spent away from Janey.

Hopefully, that wouldn't be too testing for them. At the moment, it seemed incredibly desirable, but what if they started to grate on each other's nerves again?

But it was true that there might not be much time for them to be together just them—not like they'd gotten over the summer. The entire trajectory of their relationship dynamics might very well change completely.

With that in mind, Sam softened. He uncrossed his arms and allowed one to snake around Janey's back, pulling her closer into his side. Those stolen, private moments could be rare in the future, so he might as well cherish them whilst he could.

"How do you feel about going back?" he asked gently. "To Hogwarts," he clarified, thinking she might otherwise think he was trying to usher her back into the garden.

Janey shrugged—but of course. Sam supposed he should have known better than to try and get her to open up, despite all she'd said to him just moments before out in the garden. Moments like that, where Janey gave an emotional insight into her heart, were rare and absolutely had to be on her own terms.

"It will be weird," she said eventually in a quiet voice.

Sam gave her shoulder a squeeze. "But it will be good," he promised her.

At that, Janey turned to look at him. As he always was, Sam was taken by the deep pools of baby blue that were her eyes. How lucky he was to be able to see them this close. Why had he ever denied himself the privilege?

It was inconceivable to him that she genuinely believed he would want to look at other girls in preference to her—girls like Dominique, as pretty as she was. Janey was so beautiful. He should have never pretended he didn't find her deeply so. But because he did, and because he could, he kissed her.

Sam could feel Janey's surprise as he brought his mouth to hers, clearly having expected him to say something else, but she gratefully kissed him back.

It was like a switch had been flicked on within him, kissing Janey, even with the purest and most innocent intentions. Like his body had now been trained to know what to expect next. Sam cursed internally.

Well, maybe that would actually be a blessing of going back to Hogwarts, He could snog Janey with as much passion and vigour as he wanted, and his body wouldn't betray him. Although, knowing it could go no further, it also sounded like a very specific and excruciating form of torture.

"We really, really, really should go back," Sam mumbled, because the deeper he allowed himself to sink into this bliss, the harder it would be to walk away. He had literally just wanted to kiss her, nothing more.

But if Sam was starting to feel that urgent, desperate longing he was then Janey was too, because she showed no signs of wanting to stop. She had brought her hands to his hair—never a good sign.

"We don't have to go back yet," she whispered.

Sam wondered whether she had intended for this to happen all along—her reasoning for having brought him upstairs. But that was insane. He and Janey weren't going to hook up in James' bedroom whilst their friends, parents, and teachers had a barbecue out in the garden.

Were they…?

Screw it, Sam thought. No one was around. He should probably have locked the door, or at least even closed it, but his mind was rather preoccupied. In one swift movement, Sam hoisted Janey's thighs up around his waist, lowering her onto her back atop the bed.

He could only hope James would forgive him for what he was about to do, but also knew the other boy would take a weird sick delight in knowing what was happening. More perturbingly, he just hoped the sheets had been changed since Ebony had last spent the night.

"Okay, maybe we shouldn't," Sam blurted out, because the more he thought of James and Ebony having done the exact same thing on the exact same bed, the more uncomfortable he felt.

"We'll be quick," Janey assured him, pulling him back down towards her, and Sam had no doubt that would be true.

"Everybody's just outside," he protested.

"Exactly," Janey said.

Screw it, Sam thought once more, because once they went back to Hogwarts there was no saying how many opportunities they would get—if any at all. They were on a time limit, so best make it count whilst they could.

Janey was already fumbling with the buttons on Sam's shirt whilst they continued to kiss. God, it was kind of exhilarating, knowing that time was racing against them and that they could potentially be discovered at any moment.

Sam had no idea where his wand was, but Elliot's warning rang clear in his mind. "Janey, we need to do the spells," he insisted.

"We will," was all she said, successfully flinging his shirt wide open.

Sam felt so physically hot and flustered that he didn't even mind about being exposed in broad daylight. But Janey was possibly the only person he felt that safe and at ease with.

He pulled Janey up from the bed by her wrists so they were both sitting upright, her thighs still wrapped around his waist. The look on her face was one of surprise but also excitement, urging Sam on further.

He'd only performed this manoeuvre to better have access to remove her shirt but maybe it would be fun to try something a bit different. God, he loved having a girlfriend.

Sam started to fumble with Janey's shirt, praying that this would suddenly be the day he developed an expert ability to do things he'd never succeeded at yet—including not just desperately groping at the clasp of her bra until she got frustrated and took it off herself.

But to his surprise, Janey grabbed his hand to stop him. "No time for that," she gasped.

Sam didn't have any time to process or react to what she'd said because she'd not only placed his hand on her chest beneath her shirt but was gyrating her hips against his with urgent enthusiasm that completely took away from any ability to process thoughts at all.

Sam couldn't help but groan, one hand supporting her back as he continued to hold her. How, how, how, even fully dressed did it feel so good.

"God, you're amazing," he managed to say in between panting.

"I know," Janey breathed back wickedly, her hands frantically running from his hair down his back and then up to his hair again.

Other than his shirt being open, they were still entirely fully clothed, and yet being so deep into the throes of passion, Sam didn't even want to stop what they were doing to take steps to remove anything else.

Which was probably for the best, because they were, after all, in somebody else's bedroom, in somebody else's house, attending somebody else's garden party. And if they'd remembered that just thirty seconds earlier, they would have heard the footsteps on the stairs, could have stopped what they were doing, smoothed their hair and clothes down to hurriedly remove any traces of teenage debauchery at all, and acted like they'd merely gotten lost looking for the extra brooms.

But that didn't happen. So they didn't hear the confused call of, "Albus?" or the approaching footsteps, until Sam was forced to stare Harry Potter directly in the eye, his hand still beneath Janey's shirt.

There were maybe two seconds of awkward eye contact between the Boy Who Lived and the boy who was fondling his girlfriend in the former's son's bedroom before both realised what they were looking at and sprang into action, the former swearing and hurriedly walking past the open door with a panicked look in his eye, and the latter swearing and hurriedly pushing the blonde girl straddling him away from him like he had been suddenly electrocuted by her.

Janey gave a yelp of annoyance at Sam's forced dismount and seemed entirely unperturbed by having just been caught in an incredibly compromising position by the man who'd saved the wizarding world from certain destruction.

Sam had leapt to his feet, hurriedly re-buttoning his shirt and getting the buttons and buttonholes entirely mismatched in his rush. He had never felt more humiliated in his life. Why the hell did he let Janey lead him into these situations?

She just continued to sit on the bed, looking a little bemused and smirking to herself at Sam's sudden panic.

Sam's mind was racing. What was he supposed to do? What was he supposed to say? Should he go after Harry and apologise, or explain himself, or lie and suggest absolutely nothing untoward had even been happening?

Would he be angry? Embarrassed? It was his house, after all—what if he kicked Sam and Janey out? Or, even worse, what if he told anybody else about what he'd seen?

And why did it have to be Harry freaking Potter of all people? God, it would have been mortifying had it been one of their friends but it would have at least been somewhat more tolerated and expected, right? Hell, even if Bobbin, Roberts, or Professor Longbottom had walked by, there might have been an awkward confrontation, but they knew about Sam and Janey's history. Why couldn't it have been one of Albus and James' cool uncles?

Even if it had been Rose's parents, Sam felt like he would feel less ashamed. Ron would probably just be grateful it hadn't been Rose and Scorpius he'd walked in on and make an uncomfortable joke. Especially given what had happened in the kitchen earlier. But Harry Potter? Sam didn't have a relationship with him at all. He didn't even know how much he truly registered on the wizarding world's hero's periphery. Other than what he'd witnessed earlier, Sam didn't think Harry had the slightest clue who he was. He guessed he was just some horny teenage weirdo taking advantage of his hospitality when this man had literally saved the world.

To make matters worse, Harry promptly walked back into view as though he was about to say something, hesitated, seemingly bit his tongue, and then just as quickly walked away again.

Sam stared at the spot where he'd left. Janey continued to say nothing from the bed, but he could just tell she was still finding it all inappropriately hilarious.

And then Harry was back, arms folded, looking as uncomfortable as Sam felt, like he was battling an internal storm. The older man seemed to be torn between knowing as an adult and a parent of Sam's friends he ought to give some kind of condemnation of what he'd observed—or even worse, an educational talk about safety and respect—and succumbing to all of their better interests and acting like nobody had seen anything and acting like none of it had happened at all. Sam thought he might just walk away again, but to everybody's great discomfort, except maybe Janey, he stood his ground, though there was deep pain in his eyes.

Sam had truly never longed for death more than he did right then.

"We were going back downstairs," he blurted out, deciding he'd rather neither hear Harry Potter berate him for feeling up his girlfriend at a family function he was a guest at nor give him some kind of authoritative advice about being 'safe' in his physical relationship.

"That's… a good idea," Harry said, nodding thoughtfully, also seemingly weighing up his options.

Sam rather thought if it had not been so blindingly obvious to both of them that Harry had seen exactly what they were doing, they could all of them just pretend nothing of the sort had been going on at all.

Sam made to leave the room, wanting to brush past the hero of a man and henceforth avoid eye contact with him for the rest of the day and probably his entire life. He had no qualms about ditching Janey. If she found it all so hilariously amusing, she could fend for herself.

But Harry spoke once more, still obviously as deeply mortified as Sam was. "You, err, might want to re-button your shirt."

Sam swore out loud, and then looked guiltily at Harry again, as though this might have offended him as much as what he'd already witnessed. The man just offered an apologetic smile.

Sam cleared his throat, awkwardly unbuttoning and re-buttoning his shirt whilst the Chosen One stared at him. Although he suspected he did not want to hear it, he thought it best to perhaps try and salvage the situation out of politeness. "We were just, uhh—"

Harry held up a hand. "I really, really don't need to know."

Sam gulped, his shirt now correctly done up. If he hadn't been caught in the act, or as deep a shade of red as the Quidditch Robes stuffed under the bed, he might appear as though nothing of the sort had been happening at all.

"We were looking for the spare brooms," Janey said brightly, finally getting to her feet and smiling sweetly. "And we clearly got lost. But we thought James might have some under his bed," she suggested.

"Right," Harry said politely, whilst Sam glared at Janey. "Well, this is Albus' bedroom. And they would be downstairs. In our broom cupboard…"

"Easy mistake," said Janey.

Sam flashed her a warning with his eyes, commanding her to shut up, but Janey ignored him.

"I always said they would be downstairs," Sam blurted out, looking at Harry pleadingly. "She suggested we should come up here, and I very much protested."

Janey looked at him in outrage. "Wow, Sam, real nice."

"I did!" he insisted, half at Janey, half at Harry.

"Well," Harry said kindly, "we can all go back downstairs now. And, uhh"—he looked like he wanted to die—"it's, umm, quite normal, at your age to—"

"Oh, we got it," Janey interrupted. "Thanks, though."

Sam stared at her, aghast. How she was so calm and so confident about everything was beyond him.

"Maybe you could talk to your parents about this," Harry tried pleadingly.

"Mine aren't around," Janey continued brightly, "but don't worry, Professor Longbottom gave some excellent adolescent health classes last year. Very informative."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Good to know."

Janey breezed out of the room like it was nothing, Sam watched her go with both awe and irritation. After a moment's hesitation, he followed after her. As he awkwardly squeezed past the man who he wished was merely just his schoolmate's father, and not someone who had just seen him getting unashamedly frisky at a family function, he couldn't help but feel struck by the realisation of exactly whose presence, and house, he was in. In any other circumstances, he would be entirely awed by him.

"Thank you for saving the wizarding world," he mumbled as he hurried past.

Harry just watched him go with a bemused look on his face. "Oh… it was no problem."

"And thanks for the do!" Janey called, a few steps ahead of Sam, who was hurrying to catch up with her.

"Janey," Sam hissed, as he followed behind her, hoping he was out of earshot of Harry Potter. "I can't believe you let me do that!"

Even though he couldn't see her face, he could feel her rolling her eyes. "Oh, please, I bet Albus' room has never had even remotely as much action!"

Sam was almost certain he could hear Harry let out a muffled snort of amusement from somewhere upstairs but chose to ignore it, desperate to just be as far from the situation as possible. Oh, God, what if he told the other adults? What if he told Professor Longbottom—or even Professor Bobbin?

"I don't think I can go back to Hogwarts," Sam told her in all seriousness. "I don't think I can be a part of the wizarding world anymore. I'm going to blacklist myself to avoid all future embarrassment."

"Sam, we weren't even doing anything," Janey said in an exasperated voice. "Not really."

But Sam was far from at ease. "I'm never letting you talk me into anything ever again, at all, ever!"

"Fine," she declared. "We'll stay five feet apart at all times for the rest of the summer!"

Sam knew she was joking, but he thought at this point, it might just be for the best if they did. So far nothing good had come from progressing his physical relationship with Janey whatsoever.

Well. Maybe that was a slight exaggeration…

"I need a drink," Harry declared, looking dazed as he slid into the kitchen where Ginny, Ron, and Hermione were preparing to bring out drinks to the garden.

"What happened?" Ginny demanded, looking startled by her husband's demeanour.

Harry just gulped and shook his head, recounting the horrors he so desperately wished he had not just had to witness. "Our kids are having sex," he said, defeated.

Ron and Hermione both looked deeply alarmed.

Ginny looked out the window sharply. "I'll kill James, I swear to—"

"No, no, no, I didn't mean literally our kids," Harry explained, immensely grateful that it hadn't been James who was the perpetrator for once in his life. "But I guess they're at that age—where they'll sneak off at garden parties for a snog and a fumble upstairs…"

Similarly to Ginny, Ron suddenly looked sharply out the window where the teenagers were all still culminated. "I swear if Malfoy is anywhere near Rose—"

"Ron, they're in the garden," Hermione hissed. "And they're barely touching."

Ron's angry gaze had settled on where Scorpius Malfoy was, indeed, out in the garden and not feeling up his daughter even remotely. After he had observed them long enough to ensure nothing untoward was happening, Ron focused his attention back on those in the kitchen. "Why is he even here?" he asked sulkily.

"Because he's Albus' friend," Harry pointed out.

"And he just lost his mother," Hermione gently reminded him.

Ron had the decency to soften his scowl. "Fine," he relented, "but if he gets even a little handsy with her…"

Hermione rolled her eyes, but she did so with endearment. "We were young once too," she pointed out playfully, and Ron's face turned a shade only slightly lighter than his hair.

"Gross," Ginny said distastefully, and they all four of them couldn't help but laugh.

Author's Note: Title and epigraph inspired by Ariana Grande's 'Daydreamin'

Oh, I couldn't resist writing a little Golden Trio-centric epilogue to this chapter, which I don't think I've done in any of my other stories in this series even remotely, but as I felt so strongly compelled, I decided to keep it in! And now, we will very much be going back to Sam and Janey's POV. See you next week for a new chapter!