Let It Go

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Chapter Three: Midnight Rendezvous

"Johnson?" came the low rumble of a male's voice as Angelina turned into a dark corner.

"Yeah, it's me, Montague," she responded as she approached the young man. She had already discarded her school robe earlier that evening in opt for a pleasant top and a pair of khaki pants.

"Heard about you and Weasley. Sorry to hear it about," he told her, but his tone begged to differ.

"Yes, I'm sure you really care."

"Hey, who's the one helping you?"

"Yeah, for a price." She seem to smile as she crossed arms over her chest.

"Now come on now, Johnson." He ran the back of his fingers down Angelina's cheek. "Everything in this world comes with a price. I just hope for your sake, Weasley is worth all this."

Angelina slapped his hand away. "Don't ever touch me."

Montague chuckled. "That's not what you said the other night, Angelina." Then with both hands he grabbed her around the waist and with one swift motion pulled her towards him. "Now is it?"

"Don't make me regret that night, Montague." She pushed away.

"You're just upset because things got a little. . . rough," he said as his perfectly manicured fingers unfastened his school robe. He blew Angelina a kiss as he pushed the robe out of his way and lifted his white shirt. "It left marks all over my body." He revealed to her the black and blue marks around his midsection. "You?"

"Yeah," she admitted. "Trying to hide them from Fred was a bitch. But I guess I let my guard down around George and he actually thought that Fred had something to do with them." She couldn't help but laugh, but it was a hollow felt sound, for there was no joy behind it. "It's been a hard few days," she quietly said as she held herself.

"Then I don't think you're going to like the news I've got for you." Angelina looked hopefully into his dark black eyes, hoping the news wasn't as bad as he thought it was. "We've only got about a month."

Angelina could no longer feel her legs and leaned on th wall for support. "This is harder than I thought it would be."

Montague scoffed. "Don't tell me you acutally thought this was going to be easy?" he asked, but recieved no answer. He shook his head from side to side. "Look, if we are going to do anything, we're going to have to do it soon, before he returns," he told her once as she pushed herself away from the wall.

"Yes, I know, but things are happening so fast. There is no way we can-"

"I know," he agreed soberly, cutting her off. "I've already check in." Angelina gave him as a dissappointed look that went unseen by him. "We can't get anything accomplished tonight, so we should probably call it a night." He saw her nod her head and he turned to start his walk back to his own common room when he heard footsteps approaching. Within a heartbeat, he turned back to Angelina and before she knew it, she was being pushed further into the darkness of the hallway.

Montague had guided her into a corner of the dead end hallway. They were now in between the wall and an armor statue. "What's going on?" Angelina whispered.

"Shh!" was all he said. A moment later, Angelina could hear the sound of footsteps coming closer. Montague stood silently in front of her; there was only a distance of five inches that separated them, but Montague didn't seem to notice how close they were as he was now concentrating on the fast approaching sound.

The sound of footsteps became louder with the passing seconds when they came to a stop. It was then the two students realized that the person was now standing at the entrance of the hallway. "Lumos," the voice unmistakably belonged to Umbridge. Angelina looked down and realized that Montague's robe was longer than most students, due to his Napoleon Complex when it came to other males within their year, and so he bought them longer than he needed causing them to drag behind him. The robe could be seen at the base of the statue.

The light of Umbridge's wand slowly got closer, Angelina grabbed a hold of Montague's robe and yanked him into the safety of the large statue's shadow, who looked down at them curiously. Montague, taking in his new position, could no longer ignore the proximity of him and the dark skinned girl before him, whose body was press up so tightly against his that not only could he feel her set of full breast, but also the rhythm of her rapid heartbeat.

She was so warm and so soft that he couldn't stop his body from starting to react to her, but this was neither the time nor the place, so he shifted uncomfortably as he tried to focus on something else, anything else. That's when he noticed that Angelina was holding her breath.

She always holds her breath when she's scared, Montague thought as a pure and genuine smile stretched across his face and he was glad it was dark and Angelina's face was turned away from him. He then thought back to a time, a time before Fred, a time before the different houses, a time even before Hogwarts. A time when he and Angelina called each other friend, but that was long ago.

He remembered back when they had stepped off the boats and entered the ground's of Hogwarts for the first time as they were being led to the Great Hall. Angelina held his hand tightly and held her breath as all the first years stood in front of the Sorting Hat. He remembered as his name was called and his hand slowly slipped out of her. He took a seat and the Sorting Hat was placed on his head and it loudly shouted out, "Slytherin!"

Angelina's name was soon called and so she took her seat before the Sorting Hat was placed on her head. Montague had no doubt that his best friend would soon be joining him at the Slytherin table. He have even saved her a seat next to him, for she was strong, fierce, determined, and most important, she was pureblooded, the very same words Montague used to describe himself. So you could just image the look of shock on his face as the Sorting Hat shouted clearly, "Gryffindor!"

"Bloody Hell!" Angelina shouted sending the Great Hall into a roar of laugher. "Sorry," she said turning to Professor McGonagall. Angelina then reluctantly made her way to the Gryffindor table. She kept her head down for the rest of the sorting.

After dinner, the four houses were led to their own common rooms. Other than the Great Hall, Montague had not seen Angelina. On the morning of the third day he happened into the dark, deadend hallway; he had been looking for the bathroom.

When he turned around to go back out of the hallway he saw Angelina passing by. Not believing his luck, he grabbed her and yanked her into the dark hallway. They didn't have much time, he had learned that Gryffindor and Slytherin were house rivals and being seen together would make a difficult time for each of them. "If we ever need each other, this is where we should meet." She nodded her head in agreement, just happy to see him. "And bring candy."

"Candy?" She looked at him questionably.

"Hey, there's a price for my services." He smiled. "Plus you know how strick my mum is when it comes to the stuff."

"Yeah, sure whatever you say, David." She smiled.

"Yeah, about that." He looked thought. "I think it would be wise if we learned to stop calling each other by our first names, Johnson."

"You're right, Montague," she felt weird saying it. "We should be heading to class."

"You go first." She turned around and headed back out into the light.

"Excuse me," Montague saw a red headed boy approach Angelina, "I think you dropped this." When Montague had pulled Angelina into the hallway, one of her books had slipped out of her backpack.

"Oh, thank you." She gave him the biggest smile.

"You're welcome." He smiled back. "Fred Weasley."

"Angelina Johnson." They shook hands.

"So where you heading?" he asked, looking over her shoulder when she turned around and pulled her schedule out of her book. "Well, look at that, I'm headed the same way. So what do you say I walk you?" he asked.

Angelina looked at him for moment before saying, "Yeah, alright."

The year had passed and Angelina and Montague had not spoken since that third day. It was not until their second year, when Montague heard of the openings on both of their house's Quidditch team, did he realize they could see more of each other, not in the school, but on the field. He was going to send her an owl about his idea, but she had beaten him to the punch. One night, while in his dormitory, he found a school owl perched by his desk, the parchment simply read, "See you on the pitch, Fly Boy."

Their skills on the field weren't remarkable, but they were very skilled for their age since they were used to playing a lot of one on one with each other. So neither one feared about making the team. In the end, had accomplished what they had sat out to do. It was something they could fight and make fun of each other about in the halls of the school, without anyone being suspicious of their friendship. It wasn't much, but it was all they had.

It wasn't until their third year that problems started to develop, Angelina had become almost obsessed with the game, almost to the point of ignoring Montague to work strategy with Wood. Their arguments in the hall, along with the pushes and shoves, which were once pretend, became real as their tones and words became harsh.

But it wasn't until they both had made Captain in their seventh year, and were on the field for their first game, trying to break each other's hand during the shake before the game, that they realized that the very thing that was suppose to bring them together, had actually torn them apart. And both felt abandoned by the other.

Then one night several weeks ago, he received his first owl from Angelina in years. It was neither addressed nor signed, but he knew exactly who it was from as he read the words, "I need you." He agonized over the thought, should he or should he not go? In his mind, he still thought of her as a friend, even though now he couldn't stand the sight of her most of the time. There were lies, there was betrayal, and deceit between them and as Montague thought about it laughter escaped his lips. Lies, betrayal, and deceit, and here he thought she wasn't a Slytherin, she had just been hidden in the lion's den.

And so here they were, after curfew, on the verge of getting caught, when Umbridge's light stop a foot before it reached the statue. Angelina and Montague shared a very tense moment, as they dared not to move before hearing the sound of retreating footsteps. When the sound was long gone Montague finally spoke, "So, you have a fit when I touch you, but you can touch me whenever you please?" he asked with a knowing smirk. "Am I really that hard to resist?"

Angelina rolled he eyes. "Aw, if there was anything I missed about you, Montague, it was certainty not your mouth," she said as she slightly pushed him away before she flattened out his robe with her hand. "And the answer is yes, I can touch you whenever I please," she told him and then tucked back in his shirt, which he had pulled out earlier.

"So you have missed me? Touching, but pointless, Johnson," Montague told her and then placed his hand under her chin and lifted her face towards him. "I haven't gone anywhere."

"Right," she said as she lowered his hand, a small blush on her cheeks. "Anyway, we should probably go now," she suggested, "before someone else wonders down here and we get caught."

"Yeah," he agreed as he took a step back to allow her to get out of the corner, but then shook his head. "No. Change of plans," he said, suddenly shoving her back up against the wall before pressing his body firmly against hers and emitting a low chuckle.

Angelina looked up at him with deadpan eyes as she cocked an eyebrow. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Having a little bit of fun," he told her simply before leaning into her and inhaling the scent of hair. "You do know what fun is, don't you, Angelina?" he asked her in a soothe haughty voice as his hands found their way under her blouse. "I mean, come on, people already thought you were stepping out on Weasley." His hands eased up her back. "And now you're a free woman. We might at well take advantage of the opportunity."

Angelina shivered under the touch of his cool fingers on her warm skin. Her head gently fell back on the wall behind her as her arms found the opening in his robe and she wrapped her arms around his strong body. She sighed silently as she let Montague's soft luscious lip roam the exposed skin of her neck. "We can't to do this," she said out loud, more to convince herself if anything. Sure, her and Fred weren't together anymore and Montague was what Angelina would describe as, simply beautiful, but she couldn't do this for the same reason she could be with George, it was all just too soon. "Montague," she said breathlessly as his hands came back around and found the button on the khaki pants. "Stop," she whispered.

"Do you really want me to stop?" he asked huskily, his breath hot against the skin of her neck before licking the edge of her ear and kissing her earlobe. "Hmm, Angelina?"

Angelina didn't like his response and she angrily pushed him away. "When I say stop dammit, Montague, it's exactly what it means. Do you understand me?" She then straightened her blouse and headed towards the entrance of the hallway, without giving the Slytherin a second glance.

Montague followed silently as he looked at her quizzically. There was something off about her that he couldn't quite place, but he shrugged if off, chalking it up to years of non-communication. Then when they entered into the main hallway, Montague called after his estranged friend before she started walking to her common room. "Angelina?"

She huffed loudly as she turned to him crossing her arms. "What is it now, Montague?"

"Listen up, because I'm only going to say this once." His unchaste appearance had faded away and had been replaced with a very serious demeanor.

"Go on." She didn't quite know what to expect.

"Thanks, for- for what you did for me." His face still looked serious, but there was sadness behind his words and his eyes. "I hope, I don't ever make you regret, saving my life."

Angelina blinked a few times as her arms fell to her side. "What's a few cut and bruises between friends, David?"

Montague smiled softly, it had been a long time since she had called him by his first name. He had almost forgotten what it sounded like to hear her say it. Realizing he was smile Montague brought his hand up to his mouth and cleared his throat. "Get some rest, Johnson, you look tired." He then turned towards the dungeons and began walking, finally calling it a night.

To Be Continued. . .

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