"Don't bother giving me excuses for why you're late, or rather try to hide what you've been doing," Renae said pacing the length of our dormitory. She paused in front of where I was sitting of my bed, "I already know. "

"You already know—" I started, trying to conjure as much innocence into my eyes as I could muster.

"Exactly what you and George were doing up in Room of Requirement for nearly three years." She gave me a very stern look that could have rivaled McGonagall's.

"You—you do?" I asked stupidly, unable to comprehend how she could possibly know where we had been, it is after all, unplottable if you need it to be, and we did…

She read my mind. "Well, after you two were an hour late to the party, Fred and I convinced Harry to give us a peak at the Marauder's Map so we could find where you were." She paused to give me another scolding look. "But, of course, you two were no where to be found and Fred started whooping—"

"Whooping?"

"Yes, whooping and sniggering and pointing to the empty corridor on the seventh floor," She paused, yet again. This time to access my reaction to her shared information.

"You should be blushing!" Renae waved a finger at my reddening cheeks. "I mean, three hours?" And her stern demeanor broke down into giggles.

"It wasn't three hours! Or at least it didn't feel like that long. It felt like one hour… or fifty," I trailed off, loosing thought of time and more about what took place at said time.

"It was two and half from the time we checked and I'm assuming you hadn't just gone in, even still…" The look she gave me this time was lavish, with no sign of reproach, but rather envy.

"Yeah, I guess," Still blissfully caught in a daze.

"So, what? Do I have to beg? Did you?" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"What? No! What are you talking about?"

"The details, woman. Are you going to give them to me or am I meant to suffer?"

"Oh, right."

"'Oh, right,' for being the most talented witch in our year, you really are slow sometimes. Get on with the good stuff!"

"You're impatient," I noted rather blandly.

"Yes, well. I've been lacking excitement recently." Renae answered evasively.

"What do you mean? Haven't you been with Draco?"

"Stop changing the subject. Tell me what happened between you and George right now!" She demanded.

"All right, all right!" I conceded, and launched into the night's events, spending extensive time describing the light and feeling George and I shared, and how I know he felt it too and what it could all possibly mean. "Any guesses?" I concluded feebly.

"Well, it's obviously something to do with the Ismerte business isn't it?"

"I suppose everything is these days," I admitted glumly as Renae stopped pacing and came to sit next to me on the bed.

"At least it was something good for a change,"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I can't tell you from experience or anything," Renae said hastily, "But I don't think normal sex is that good,"

"'Normal s—" I repeated my eyes widening.

"I mean, I don't think most people, you know make lights and levitate you know?" Renae stammered awkwardly, rather looking like she wished she hadn't said anything at all.

"No, I suppose not," I said, finally allowing myself to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

"And he didn't seem like scared by it or anything, right?" Renae blurted out the question, looking shocked and disappointed as she did so. I imagine she had been holding her tongue for quite some time.

"No, he defiantly wasn't scared. It was more like amazed."

"'Amazed'?"

"Yeah, like in awe. I mean after he opened his eyes and realized what was going on. That's what I did. I had no idea what was going on, I still don't."

"But it was…nice?"

"Better than anything I have ever experienced before."

"And you're pretty sure he felt the same?"

"Pretty sure," I answered confidently, "He almost had me undressed for a second time before-"

"Hi, Angelina!" Renae said too brightly as Angelina Johnson came barging into the room.

"Hey," said Angelina before making her way past them into her own bed in the corner, which she promptly flopped down upon and drew the curtains around her.

"Wonder what's wrong with her?" Renae whispered as the curtains drew closed with an audible swoosh. Mary McGeehan, or "Just Mary" as the Twins had taken to calling her, whispered a hurried "Darnley just snogged Crawford. It's over," before disappearing behind Angelina's bed curtains.

"Ouch," I said sympathetically, taking a single moment to picture myself in her situation before banishing the dreaded images from my mind.

"This conversation isn't over." Renae said, regaining her firm stance from earlier.

"It isn't?"

"No, it isn't. There was actually something I wanted to ask you, in private,"

"Oh, okay. How about tomorrow then, during our free period?"

"Think you can manage to give George the slip?" Renae raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Shouldn't be too difficult. I'll tell him it's to make up for tonight," I shrugged.

"Fine then. After lunch," Renae said soundly, pointing at me in a threatening way, as if she was trying to convey the message that if I blew her off again she would poke me to death with her boney fingers. At least, that was the message I got from it. All the same, I was happy to go to sleep where satisfyingly realistic dreams of George flashed across my mind.

XXX

Breakfast the next morning was tense to say the least. George and I sat across from Fred and Renae like usual, eating our toast and drinking pumpkin juice but it was nowhere near a normal breakfast. Fred and Renae were bombarding us with knowing looks, and when they weren't scrutinizing the way we acted together, they were exchanging looks with each other and sniggering at private jokes.

"Enough!" I said in just short of a shout, not wanting to draw too much attention but enough to get the point across. Their laughter died as they both turned expectantly toward me. "Enough already! I swear to Merlin, I wish I never told you anything."

"Tell us anything? We already knew everything," Fred corrected me.

"Yes, well—all right, then. What about it's so funny?" I embraced the awkwardness and asked the question. It threw him off guard, which gave me the confidence I needed. "From where I sit, the amusing thing isn't what George and I did—fantastic, by the way, but not funny—but what you haven't. I mean aren't you the older twin? Shouldn't you have…been first?"

I struck him where I knew it would hurt-but it didn't seem to work. Fred was simply smirking. I took the bait. "What?"

"You're assuming that I haven't…" Fred purred, the mischief alight in his eyes.

I looked to George in a mixture of confusion and anger. When did this happen and why the hell didn't you tell me? George simply shrugged in response, as if he were reading my mind.

"That'll be because it happened just before the party." Fred said smugly, answering the unasked question. "And by your account, that means I did 'go first',"

"Oh all right, then," George sighed heavily, before turning to his twin. "Who was it?"

"Like I'm going to tell you," Fred snorted, piling more bacon on to his plate.

"Why wouldn't you tell us? We're your best mates," I pouted.

"I'm sorry, Andi," Fred said in a very unapologetic tone, "You are my best mate, besides George of course. And if that's taught me anything, it's that girls like to gossip, 'specially 'bout this stuff."

"I most certainly do not gossip!" I screeched, looking for George for help. He simply shrugged his shoulders and added more bacon to his plate as well.

"Well, fine then," I said, placing my glass of pumpkin juice back on the table perhaps a little too forcefully. "I guess Renae and I better get off. You know, long morning worth of gossiping to do."

Renae caught on to my plan effortlessly, and joined me in standing up and looking cross. "You know, Fred. Girls do gossip, including us. But do you know what we love to gossip about even more than sex?" She asked the question sweetly enough, but knowing her methods well, I knew there wasn't a grain of sugar hidden in her words.

Fred raised an eyebrow at her but did not speak. " We like to gossip about things people don't want us to know. Mull over all the possibilities, fact checking, that sort of thing. But, you know, have it your way," Renae shrugged, and turned away from the twins' confused faces. She grabbed my arm and started dragging me toward the staircase.

We barely reached the top of the staircase before we exploded in fits of giggles. I was sure nothing could stop our raucous laughter until I caught the sight of an overlarge, greasy black bat.

"And what, pray tell, is so amusing?" Professor Snape demanded silkily, looking down the length of his nose to glare at us.

"Nothing, Professor," Renae said too quickly, straightening herself to full height.

"Of that, I'm sure," Professor Snape retorted, still glaring at us casually. "However, your presence has been requested, Miss Wendling."

"What? By who?"

"What, Professor? By whom, Sir?' I'm sure you mean, Miss Wendling." Snape corrected.

"Yes, Professor sir. Surely you can tell me by whom has my presence been requested, and at what time and what location they will expect me, sir." I might have laid it on too thickly, but I couldn't find it in me to regret it.

"Here," Professor Snape grunted, shoving a piece of parchment into my hand rather unceremoniously, before turning around and stomping away which made his cloak billow around him in a very dramatic way.

"Thank you, Professor Sir!" I called cheerily to his back as he rounded the corner and disappeared.

"Well, what's it say?" Renae asked impatiently.

"Dunno yet, do I?" I motioned to the rolled up parchment, more particularly the seal still holding it closed. I tapped it with my wand and it unrolled at once, and flattened itself in my hands.

"Please meet in me my office at 7:00 pm sharp and bring your broomstick if you will.

Albus Dumbledore"

"But why would he ask you to bring your broom?" Renae asked.

"I haven't the foggiest."

"You don't think he's going to give you a flying lesson, do you?"

"Well, no. That would be sort of ridiculous, but I really don't know why else he'd have me bring it."

"Maybe to check for jinxes," Renae shrugged, before turning to mumble the password to the Fat Lady, which swung open grumpily. "You know, like they did with Harry's Firebolt last year?"

"Yeah, that's probably it,"

"What's probably what?" George chirped merrily, sneaking up on us from behind.

"Dumbledore asked her to bring her broom to their lesson tonight," Renae whispered, as they passed through the semi-crowded common room.

"You have a lesson tonight?" George asked hopefully.

"Yeah, just got the letter walking up here," I responded halfheartedly, unsure of George's sudden lift in mood. He seemed happy that I had other plans for the night.

"Any idea what it's about?" George added.

"Nope. We're just trying to figure out why I'd need my broom."

"I doubt it's a flying lesson. You could've made one hell of chaser for the Gryffindor team if only you tried out," George poked my side.

"Well, good thing I didn't. I could hardly fit Quidditch practice into my busy schedule of N.E.W.T. and 'extra-curricular' studying,"

"Would you guys please stop talking about your sex lives?" Renae huffed, "Believe it or not there are more important things to discuss!"

"I wasn't talking about that!" I defended, but it was no use. My cheeks were already inflamed and George was only making it worse with that damn smirk of his.

"Just meet me here before dinner, alright? There's still something I need to talk to you about," Renae said, already starting to walk up the stairs to the girl's dormitory.

"Sure thing!" I called to her back before following George up the stairs to the sixth year boy's dormitory. He hesitated outside the door of his room. "What's wrong?"

"Just—just wait out here a minute, if you could?" George asked nervously.

"What? Why? I've already been inside," I half laughed.

"Yeah, but that was different," George whined.

"Oh, all right then."

"Thanks, love. You're the best," He punctuated his sentence with a kiss and promise of "It'll only be five minutes," before he weaseled himself through a crack in the door and disappeared.

I sighed and leant against the wall, taking the time to examine my magically manicured nails. The edges were chipped. Although they came with a warranty, the nail polish bottle came with a warning to avoid strenuous activity to maintain optimal quality. I suppose writing a complaint letter would entail disclosing what I was doing to chip my nails…and that was certainly not a story for any sort of official.

"Okay, it's ready," George, announced, peeking his head out of the crack of the open door.

"You really didn't have to do anything. I've been in here only a thousand times before," I said, stepping toward the door, which was still cracked only enough to let George's head through.

"It's different now that you're my girlfriend and not just my friend," George mumbled.

"Are you going to let me in, or should I get comfy in the hall?" I asked once George had failed to show any notion of inviting me in.

"Right. Right, of course," He said to himself before pulling the door open wide and stepping back to let me in.

The room looked as it always looked; yet it was a tad cleaner than normal near George's bed. It was clear which was his, the second I walked in, seeing as it was the only one made and a picture of me sat in a frame beside the bed I plopped myself down on. "It took you five minutes to do all this?" I raised an eyebrow.

"I, well, I was never very good at cleaning spells," George shrugged, looking down at the floor where his trunk was poking out from underneath the bed, busting at it seems.

"I wouldn't have expected you to be," I giggled, lying back against the pillows as George came to stand at the end of the bed.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Georg muttered, tone half indignant half mystified. The room was empty, and I can't say I was too concerned with keeping my modesty as I lay down on his bed. No, my thoughts were back in the hall, back in the Room of Requirement.

"You're more concerned with making the mess rather than cleaning it, wouldn't you say?" I raised an eyebrow, daring him to disagree.

"I suppose you're right," George said, but it was clear his mind was far away. He continued to stand there and stare at me, clearly unsure of what to do next.

After a few moments of silence, I leaned back on my elbows to look him directly in the eye. Doing so caused my skirt to rise higher up my thighs, and George knew that I caught him staring and yet he continued to stare. "What's the matter? Isn't this what you wanted? Isn't this why it's different?"

"What?" George asked absentmindedly, his gaze on my thighs and the ever-rising hem of my skirt.

"You only care about how the room looks so I'll have sex with you," I said, not worried about my bluntness.

" I—what?" George said, snapping out of his trance at once to look into my eyes with a bewildered expression.

"You made your bed so we could mess it back up, right?" I purred, taking the opportunity to cross my legs, which exposed the back of my thighs, and possibly more from his angle.

"Well, no, but, I mean that would be great," George sputtered, a lopsided grin on his face, faltering, "This isn't a trap, is it?"

"No, it's not a trap," I reassured him, sitting upright and patting the spot on the bed next to me. He obliged, looking extremely hopeful. "But—"

"Oh no!" George groaned, letting his face fall in his hands dramatically.

"No, I'm being serious, George!"

"I repeat: Oh no!" George muttered sarcastically into his hands but turned his cheek to look at me nonetheless.

"Just because we've had sex now, doesn't mean we have to have sex all the time," George continued to stare at me. "I just don't want our relationship to turn into nothing but sex. I still want the friends part, and the adventure part, and the pranking part, and all of it. I don't want everything to change now that we've had sex."

"Okay," George said plainly after my speech.

"'Okay'? That's all you're going to say?"

"What do you want me to say? Of course I want to have sex with you, you're beautiful and amazing and last night was incredible. But you're right. I don't want our relationship to just be sex either. I never want you to feel like I'm pressuring you into having sex with me. Ever." George said, grabbing my hand while he spoke. I gripped back firmly, and I was able to feel traces of the energy we shared last night and I knew he was being completely honest.

"Can that door lock?"

"Yeah, why?" George answered, confused by my abrupt questioning.

"Lock it." I demanded, giving him a look that dared him to do anything else. I glanced at the clock hanging in their dorm that they had bewitched for the semester to tell them where they ought to be on the school days. The hands were currently pointing to forty minutes before Double Charms.

George pulled his wand from his robes and locked the door to the room. In the moment he had turned his back to me, I took the chance to hastily disregard my shirt and skirt. When George turned back around, I was wearing just my undergarments.

"Well, hello there." George purred, stepping forward excitedly. In the moment he reached me, George was all hands-soft hands roaming my body, lingering, and tickling.

"'Ello," I giggled, as he kissed my neck, his eyelashes tickling my jaw as he made his way down to my collar bone. I pulled him away before I wouldn't be able to anymore. I deliberately caught his gaze and held it for a few minutes before sliding to my knees before him, my hands resting on his thighs.

"Oh, no, you don't have to do that," George stammered as I unzipped his fly.

"I want to. Now lean up so I can take these off," I demanded, gripping his jeans and boxers tightly as he moved to allow me to slip them down to his ankles. I moved my hand forward but paused and looked up, to make sure he understood how much I wanted to do this before taking his semi-hard member in my hand.

I slowly began to move my hand up and down, so obviously unsure of myself it was almost painful. Before I even knew I was saying words, they fell out of my mouth in the form of, "I've never done this before," and they were floating in the air, unable to come back no matter how desperately I wanted them to.

"That's okay," George reassured me, reaching down to move fallen stands of hair out of my eyes. "You're doing great, don't worry."

"Will you—" I stopped, thinking of the possible embarrassment before asking, "Will you help me?"

I saw lust flash red through his eyes before he said "yes", and covered my hand with his. He squeezed until I tightened my grip and started to move his hand vigorously and would stop and move slowly at such a random pace I could barely keep up with him. Yet, I was glad for the help; I now had a lesson on what exactly a man prefers from the only man I cared about pleasing. I could think of countless ways this could come to my advantage, but I got immediately distrcted by George twitching in my hand as he let go to clench the sheets in his fists. Keeping my rhythm steady, I looked up at him curiously. I felt…adventurous, but just as equally nervous. George had his eyes closed and seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself. With only mild hesitation, I bent forward and flicked my tongue over the tip of his penis, before leaning away to watch the reaction.

"Fuck," George swore under his breath, his eyes opening in pleasant shock.

I grinned. George avoided that word for serious manners, so it wouldn't loose its effect. She remembered when he explained it to her on the train ride to Hogwarts in the second year after she had cursed out Marcus Flint for his general existence, more specifically his treatment of Molly Connelly.

Knowing that he was watching every move, I leaned back down slowly until my lips hovered just above his member. I sat there watching him quiver with the anticipation before he groaned impatiently. Giggling, I got to work. As inexperienced in my work as I was, I didn't feel uncomfortable. As I wrapped my lips around him, and started to bob my head up and down, his sounds of appreciation only reaffirmed my experimental actions. After several minutes, one of his hands left the sheet to ball around my hair instead. He used his grip to gently push me further downward, and although it was slightly uncomfortable, it meant we were getting somewhere.

Feeling particularly daring, I fit as much of him as I could handle and slowly began to swirl my tongue. Looking up at his sigh, our eyes met, and I swore I could see his pupils dilate. I was certain his grip on my hair tightened when he managed to gasp out a raspy, "I love you."

I removed all of him from my mouth abruptly, placing a gentle kiss on his tip before whispering back, "I love you," breathing heavy, every breathe causing him to shudder.

Before he could blink, I was on my feet, moving so I was straddling him. I felt his hard member pulse against me, its wetness adding to mine. I started to rock myself back and forth against him, through my cotton panties, his fully erect cock hitting just the right spot. "Shag me," I breathed the words, not hearing them even after they were said.

"But your underwear—" George said stupidly, his hand falling to the waistband.

"Are you a wizard or not?" I asked, opening my eyes to give him a questioning glance.

"Oh, right. Right," He mumbled, fetching his wand from the nightstand and using the necessary nonverbal spell needed to cut them away. Rather impractical, but also rather erotic. I was caught in the awe of being so physically attracted to him, that all I did was sit and stare at him, hopelessly aroused. Until I realized that I could solve my problems at any second I chose, and I chose to wrap my hand around George and guide him to my entrance. His hands on my hips to brace me, he slid in gently—almost too gently. I was yearning for the sensation of completeness only he could give me. As if reading my thoughts, he abandoned all hesitancies and closed the remaining inches between us, the warm, soft skin of his hips meeting mine.

Our eyes locked as we remained perfectly still, arms and legs wrapped around each other, searching for the ultimate closeness and finding it in each other's embrace. He stayed still, impossibly hard inside me, waiting until I adjusted fully. Again, it was if he was reading my mind or body signs, because just as I was about to sigh in impatience, he began to thrust his hips upward into me while pulling me upward at the same time. He began to form a pattern of pulling me up inch by agonizing inch until the last centimeter of his cock was sill inside, before slamming me back down until every inch of me was full.

"Fucking hell," George swore as I bit down on his clavicle. I felt him spasm inside me and knew he was getting close. I hoped I could hold him off for just a few minutes longer, feeling my own peak rolling up from the toes. Smirking, George repaid the favor. His hands relinquished his grip on my hips to reach behind my back for my bra clasp. I pulled slightly away from him.

"Front clasp," I explained, unhooking the bra from the front, freeing my breast.

"I see, what a clever invention," George grunted, contenting himself with flicking my left nipple and watching it grow harder by the flick.

"Don't tease me!" I groaned, moving myself up and down now that my breast distracted George.

"Who said anything in teasing? I intend to fulfill—"He thrusted, stretching my walls with the force of it. "Every single one of my promises."

"And what have you promised me?"

"To love you like no other man could," George breathed against my lips, engaging me in a full on make out session. A kiss so passionate, he managed to slip his fingers down to my most sensitive spot without me noticing. He swirled his fingers around me in little shifting circular patterns, causing me to spasm against him.

"George, I'm—I'm going t-to—" I stuttered, feeling my toes curl around themselves as a blinding feeling built in my core.

"Shh," George wrapped his arms around me, bringing my head to his chest as he reduced his movements to slow and shallow thrusts, keeping himself as deeply buried as possible. The movement that was driving me crazy was the sensation of my own walls clenching against him in a building orgasm. If possible, it was even better than before.

I felt them starting to leave the bed, and through my closed eyelid I saw the sudden flash of colors.

"George? Oi, George are you in there?" Fred's voice rang from the other side of the door.

"FUCK!" George and I screeched at the same time.

Before we could even manage to fall back down to the bed, much less detangle ourselves from each other, we heard Fred's spell, "Alohomora!" the swish of the door opening, and then the sound of Fred's jaw hitting the floor.

XXX

insert the usual disclaimer about how I own none of the stuff that obviously belongs J.K. Rowling although I would very much like to.

Hey, guys! So, it wasn't as soon as I hoped, but hey, it's less than a year, so that's better than my general track record. I'm going to try really, really hard to keep up with this, although I'll be honest. I'm going to college full time and I also work two jobs, so it's not going to be every two weeks or even every month. But I am going to try to keep this updated as frequently as I can, by putting a pause on just about all of my other writing. So, as always, please, please let me know how you're enjoying (or not enjoying) the story so far. I appreciate and encourage any sort of criticism you wish to give me. (: