Chronicles of The Boy Who Lived

*******


The things you do whilst alive which make you crave for death...

Chanel had been in a restless mode last night. Partly because it was so fucking quiet, she could hear her thoughts scampering around like busy little mice in her head. Also, the aggravating hotel lighting seemed to blaze through her curtains no matter how she arranged them. She just couldn\'t seem to get it dark enough in there.

Thirdly, she stupidly let her mind wander onto a worrying state, which she abhorred doing, and she just couldn\'t get Harry out of her mind.

*...How ghostly and pale was his skin...His eyes so cool and startling and wide and green...*

A white-hot streak of pain ripped through her stomach. She nearly doubled over as she stumbled to the bathroom. Another curdling bolt seized her and her insides violently turned inside-out, splashing messily into the toilet. She clutched the cool porcelain of the sink, pressing her head into the small vanity mirror.

Fucking liar.

With great skill, Chanel managed to avoid running into either of them. She dashed off a quick note to Tori on her way out and slid it under her door:


You can tell HP about the Weasleys. I\'d nearly forgotten.
Besides, doesn\'t work as much as a surprise anyway.
I\'m not good w/those sort of things.


She abruptly decided to go running. Cologne was absolutely beautiful and to run its streets in full abandon seemed like the perfect thing to do.

From nowhere, a strange tug of nostalgia washed over her as she thought back to the years past. She and Harry going on long, meandering walks all over London, arguing heatedly over song lyrics. How she\'d sit in the park, sketching things that vaguely resembled trees and children; Harry, curled near the edge of the pond with his acoustic guitar, serenading ducks. The way they had lived had been so impossibly poor and simple. Easy. It all seemed like a strange, muddled dream, like a picture that had been primed and painted over.

She was rushing past the reception area when she caught from the corner of her eye the concierge flagging her down. There was a letter waiting for her. The front desk had tried calling, but she’d had her phone turned off after the infamous ‘twenty-one messages’ ordeal. She turned the white envelope over in her hand a few times in the elevator and studied the writing. It wasn\'t the greatest cursive printing, but there was her name: Ms. C. Steele. So that ruled out Simone. She\'d strangle herself with her Ravenclaw necktie before submitting to formality.

She worried the adhesive seal with her fingernail until it tore and pulled out a single sheet of hotel stationary:


Dear Ms. Steele,

My apologies for writing you this rather poor note as I was unable to reach you at the end of your concert, your band having exited so quickly. I also ran into a bit of a brick wall concerning your security team and some rather frightening fans who thought I was another performer.

Just wanted to let you know that Devon Murray had also come and wished for an autograph (funny; you didn\'t mention you were only part and parcel of The Boy Who Lived). I happened to have caught a nice-sized poster of your group at a train station mid-week and arranged for tickets. Quite full of surprises, aren\'t we?

Thanks for ruining my clever disguise and then leaving me to my own devices. I was never able to covertly do what I\'d come into town for (smile).

I understand that you\'ll be leaving today. Perhaps I\'ll see you around --


\"Tom,\" she murmured, feeling the strange pinch of a smile on her face.

Back in her room, she took a long, hot shower, mulling over the realization that she just might have become —- a fangirl. The thought was utterly horrific and laugh-out-loudish. She was too old for silly crushes.

She pulled on a cotton t-shirt and slipped one leg under the covers, one leg on top, for equilibrium. Her mind drifted and bobbed along as she thought about Thanksgiving with the Weasleys and Charlotte and probably what a deliciously horrible wreck it was going to all turn out. She let out a nice, emptying sigh and let her body fall back against the upholstered headboard.

That\'s when she heard the unmistakable sound of a loud pop come from a dark, shadowy corner of her room.

Her eyes snapped out and she leaned forward, frowning into the murkiness, her entire body tensing. Before she could register that her jaw had come slightly unhinged, Draco was at the foot of the bed.

Stunned, Chanel could only stare, her mouth slightly open. Draco tugged the gloves from his fingers in a very leisurely manner. “Mm. Must have taken a wrong turn somewhere,” he drawled casually. “Better close your mouth, Sweet. Might attract flies.”

She snapped her mouth shut indignantly.

Draco took notice of her state of undress with pleasure. “I see I\'ve gotten here right on time.” He smoothly glided between her scissored legs before she could slip her exposed one under the covers.

“I thought you were in Russia,” she growled.

Draco slipped a hand underneath her thigh and roughly pulled her onto his lap. “Well, now I\'m here.”

Breathlessly, she asked, “Wh-what are you doing?”

His fingers lazily traced circles upon her bare skin. “Call it a detour.” He caught and snapped the elastic band at her hip. She gasped sharply. “Nice knickers.”

Her chest heaved. “Get out.”

“You don\'t mean that,” he purred, and as his fingers deftly slipped beyond the barrier of material, his brow hiked immediately. “No, you don\'t mean that.”

Her heart stopped at the electric jolt of Draco\'s touch. “Disapparate,” she hissed.

”…As you wish,” he said slowly.

A loud pop sounded, and the space where he once sat was now empty.


***


An hour later, Tori got up slowly and took a shower, standing there for too long again in the too-hot water, thinking about anything and everything. Red as a lobster, she got out and pulled on jeans, a cream-colored sweater and brown boots. She went through her getting-ready routine somewhat robotically.

Methodically, she packed all her things, since they were finished in Germany. It was on the second trip from the bathroom that she saw the note from Chanel. She quickly scribbled a note to Harry and went and shoved it under his door. In spite of last night, she wasn\'t sure what to say or what to make of it all, and she’d be damned before completely dropping her guard and start assuming things again. Other people might be able to automatically assume things; she, on the other hand, had learned not to do that. Especially not with those sorts of things.

Tori called for a busboy and he took her bags down. Slipping her messenger bag over her shoulder, she left her room, and paused in front of Chanel\'s room, not sure if she should knock or not. She had noticed that Chanel had been more irritable lately, and she wasn\'t sure what the cause of it was. She had a sneaking suspicion that Draco was part of it.

Or maybe it’s me... She knew they got along well enough, but one couldn\'t really call them friends. She didn\'t know what she could\'ve done, besides the relentless questions and wide-eyed looks, unless it was not telling Chanel about the night she took Draco into Tori’s room. But it wasn\'t something she had wanted to share at the time...seeing as she had no idea what it meant yet. And she still didn’t.

Tori didn\'t want to go down by herself, however, so she took a deep breath and knocked.

“Come in,” Chanel mumbled. There was another knock at the door, and she raised her voice. “Come in.”

Tori winced, and pushed the door open slowly. “Hey, thought I’d come get you before heading down.”

Chanel nodded mutely as she zipped the remaining bag. Slinging it over her shoulder, she turned to Tori. “Where’s HP?”

Tori shifted her weight to her left foot. “Haven’t seen him yet,” she shrugged. “Maybe downstairs?”

“Hope he’s got a taxi waiting.” Chanel grunted softly. She gave her room one final, cursive sweep, glaring particularly in the western corner before leaving. “Well, to the lift, Watson.”

The ride down, though fast, was silent. “Anything interesting happen lately?” Chanel asked conversationally, glancing at Tori from the corner of her eye.

The doors opened, and they stepped out into the lobby, Tori wondering exactly what Chanel meant by that. Would she just roll her eyes and congratulate me on taking my first step…that would fit in with her ‘preschool’ mumble… “Well, yeah, but—” she paused as their names were called. They both looked to see Harry and Olaf by the hotel entrance, a taxi behind them. Harry himself was grinning ear-to-ear, Tori’s note about the Weasley’s in his hand. “I’ll tell you later.” Tori said as they drew closer to the entrance.

Chanel looked at her closely. “Sure.”

Outside, they tossed their bags in the trunk and the two girls bumped into each other as they both went for the same door being held open by Harry. “Sorry,” Tori said, backing away quickly. “Wasn’t paying attention.”

Harry watched in amusement as Tori slipped in from the other side and the two girls bumped into each other again. He got in the back also, leaving Olaf the front seat. It was a tight fit; Harry lifted his arm over the seat and Chanel leaned away, into Tori, who raised an eyebrow and squeezed herself more into the door. “Hope this trip isn’t long,” she deadpanned.

“Gee, it isn’t over already?” Chanel grumbled, finally settling with a tiny huff, stitching her arms tightly over her chest. “I should’ve had some coffee for this.”

Tori had started to laugh, but stopped upon seeing Chanel cross her arms.

“I’m sure we can stop and get some for you,” Harry said, still smiling. He hadn’t even remembered that today was Thanksgiving, and he’d just assumed that the three of them would eat dinner at some restaurant, maybe do something after. But Tori’s quick note about the Weasleys had stirred up exuberant surprise; he hadn’t seen Ron or his family in over a year. Through no fault of anyone’s; Ron had Quidditch, the twins had the shop, and it wasn’t because of Ginny; their short-lived relationship had ended years ago; they had been on good terms for slightly less than that. Not to mention Harry had been busy with the band.

“Are we taking the taxi all the way there?” Tori asked, shifting uncomfortably.

Harry smiled at the slight note of panic in her voice. “No. We’re taking the train.”

“Thank God.”

“Yes, can’t seem to get out of this thing fast enough.” Chanel remarked, absently glaring at her boot.

Tori bit her lip, the uncomfortable feeling now having nothing to do with being squished. She was regretting saying anything to Chanel in the first place, and wondered how many pieces she might get blown into if she actually said something. She glanced at Harry, who looked over Chanel’s head briefly at the same time, and his lips twitched upwards. Feeling a smile start, Tori turned and watched Chanel stare at her boot and then turned to look out the window.

Chanel felt a strange twinge in her stomach and winced. She quickly wiped her face clean, closed her eyes and leaned back, slipping into sleep by the gentle bobbing of the taxi.


Her eyes snapped open to catch Harry watching her intently.

He took a deep breath. “Chanel, I have something to tell you.”

She whipped her head quickly to her left. Where\'s Tori?

“She just went into the shop to get you coffee.”

Chanel suddenly realized that the taxi had pulled over; the driver and Olaf were also gone.

Harry turned himself slightly towards her and gently touched her arm. “I know you might not want to talk about this, but I think we should.”

She frowned. What\'s there to talk about?

“I just want you to know I\'m glad we\'re friends.”

Alarmed, she pulled further away. HP, how did you hear me?

Smiling pleasantly, he moved closer. “Chanel, that doesn\'t matter right now.”

She watched in horror as the scar upon his head suddenly began to crack open, a small trickle of blood running like a loose ribbon between his eyes. “Harry,” she whispered tearfully.

Harry shook his head gently, causing the ribbon to unfurl wildly. “Chanel, it doesn\'t matter.”


Chanel bolted upright from Harry’s side, gasping. She looked wildly about the taxi at its other two occupants.

The abrupt movement startled Tori, who turned to see Chanel sitting ramrod straight, glancing at her and Harry in wild alarm. “What’s wrong, Chan?” she said, at the same time Harry said, “Chanel, you all right?”

“Yes.” Chanel cleared her throat, stilling the trembling. “Yes,” she replied more firmly. She pretended to swipe quickly at Harry’s coat. “Embarrassing. Drooling over you,” she muttered, attempting a taunt smile.

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry said absently, watching her with concern.

Tori glanced at Chanel, knowing something was off, but didn’t ask. “Are we here?” she asked, as the taxi started to slow down.

Chanel looked out the window, hugely relieved. “Yes, we’re here.”

They all got out of the taxi, pulling their bags from the trunk. A porter came along to check their tickets for Platform B, and collected their luggage. Just then, the train smoothly glided in.

Chanel fell into the line behind Tori and Harry while waiting for the all clear to board. An attendant began to take the tickets, ushering them inside to a sitting area, and gestured to the right for the restrooms.

In front of the others, Tori turned to the left, but Chanel quickly reached out, stopping Harry as he was about to follow Tori. “HP, wait,” she said quietly.

He turned to her immediately, traces of concern still on his face. “What is it?”

Heart pounding, she held her breath. HP, can you hear me?

Harry stood there, looking bewildered, waiting for her to speak. “What is it, Chanel? You okay?”

She felt her chest start to shudder, and people were jostling them around. She furrowed her brow in concentration. Please, HP, tell me you hear me, you were able to once before. Remember, remember that night when we were looking through the telescopes and it was snowing – Harry – Her eyes stung with tears. She abruptly let go of his arm and rushed toward the restrooms.

Tori, who had doubled back upon realizing that no one was behind her, walked quickly to Harry. “What’s going on?” she asked worriedly, watching Chanel run off.

“I don’t know,” Harry said, staring in the direction she had taken off in, a serious, contemplative look on his face. “Will you check on her if she doesn’t come out in five minutes?”

Tori nodded, following his gaze. “Of course.”

Chanel, meanwhile, had run straight past the restrooms and into the luggage cart. She leaned against the cold containers and watched her breath come out in puffs. The conductor announced that there was twenty-five minutes before arriving at their destination.

Harry, still looking towards the restroom, leaned against the wall of the car. Tori followed suit. “Are you glad to be seeing Ron and his family?”

His face brightened somewhat. “Yeah, I am. We’ll have a terrific time, you’ll see. They’re great.”

Chanel, breathing normally now, walked slowly back to the sitting area. She slipped a hand into her pocket, feeling some papers. She pulled them out. “Tickets?” she murmured, confused.

The others said nothing as she walked up to them, tickets in hand. Tori reached for hers. “Thanks, Chan.”

Harry took his also, still watching her closely.

Chanel suddenly snatched them back. “No!” she yelped, shoving them back into her pocket. “Wrong ones. The ones we need are in my bag.” She pushed past them to get to her bag.

Tori watched her go by, then turned back to Harry. “We have two sets of tickets?”

Harry nodded. “She must’ve grabbed the King’s Cross ones; we board another train after this.”

The conductor announced ten minutes to arrival. Chanel pulled out the correct tickets, found the one seat that was separate from the other two and handed those to Harry before turning and heading into the compartment next door.

Tori stared after Chanel. Harry did, too, before looking at the tickets. “We’re over here, come on.”

She followed him over to the seats. “What did she say to you earlier?”

Harry shrugged, confused. “That’s just it; she didn’t say anything. She told me to wait—and then she just stood there.”

“And then she ran off?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, turning to look at Tori. Their eyes met, and Tori looked down, feeling the stupid, silly grin coming on. Stop it, she warned herself.

As the train slowed, the conductor announced their arrival. Chanel grabbed her overnight bag and was the first one out of her car. As she stood outside on the platform, waiting for the others’ car to clear, she spotted a young statuesque woman in a brilliant red cloak and black beret standing from them at a short distance. The Quibbler, hung upside down, was pressed closely to her face. Chanel hesistated before calling out.

“Charlotte?”

Tori had tried to follow Harry off of the train, but people kept pushing ahead of her, sending her further back. “Hold on,” she said, a slight note of panic in her voice. Harry looked over his shoulder to see that she was moving backwards. Stopping momentarily, he thrust his hand into the crowd, and Tori grabbed it gratefully; not caring about anything else at the moment other than not getting pushed back onto the train.

The young woman glanced up, spotted Chanel and waved before trotting lightly in an impressive pair of black stilettos. Chanel stepped forward, frowning briefly. “We were supposed to meet you at King’s Cross.”

Charlotte tucked the Quibbler under her arm. “Sorry, ma’am, there’s been a change of plans,” she said, turning to Harry and Tori as he finally pulled her from the fray. Smiling brilliantly, she stuck her hand out to Tori. “Hello!”

Tori started to raise her hand, and realized that it was otherwise engaged. Quickly, she pulled it free and offered it to her. “Hi.”

Chanel smiled. “Tori, this is Charlotte.”

Charlotte pumped her hand strongly, her speech rushed and slightly breathlessly. “Charles Charlotte Pringle, actually. Me dad wanted boys,” she laughed. “But you may call me Charlotte…or Charlie, which I hate,” she muttered. Finally she released Tori’s hand and turned to Harry. “Mr. Potter,” she said, a blush rising faintly in her porcelain white cheeks. “A pleasure, sir.”

Harry’s smile was fleeting as he shook her hand. “Harry, please. Are we leaving now?”

“We won’t be needing to bother with King’s Cross,” Charlotte beamed. “We’ll be taking the Weasley’s Muggle car.”

Tori raised an eyebrow. Muggle car? What other kind of car was there?

“The Ford Anglia? They still have it?” Harry asked excitedly.

Charlotte grinned, her deep cobalt blue eyes twinkling. She shyly extended the set of keys to him. “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if you took it for a whirl.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, taking the keys. “I can’t believe it,” he said, turning to the other girls. “This is going to be incredible.”

Tori couldn’t help but smile at his infectious grin. Charlotte’s dimples appeared to be bursting, as Harry had brushed her hand while taking the keys. “Incredible, indeed…” she cleared her throat. “The car is just along the side of the carport. I’m sure, Mr. Potter, you remember what it looks like,” she said, pointing to a sign a few yards away.

Chanel snorted as she signaled to a porter which bags were to be loaded on the trolley. “From what I’ve heard, he can’t be a worse driver than Ron.”

Tori let a short laugh escape and Harry threw a sharp look in both their directions. “What? So you must be better?”

Harry shrugged off-handedly. “Don’t know; guess we’ll find out.”

“Brilliant. Well, destiny awaits.” Charlotte waved them ahead, followed by the porter and she fell into step with Chanel.

“Scored us a ride and prevented possible Muggle mishap at King’s Cross. Nice work.” Chanel kept her voice low.

Charlotte curtseyed slightly. “Thank you, ma’am.”

Leading the way, Tori turned to Harry as they walked. “What do you mean, you don’t know? You’ve driven before, haven’t you?”

Harry paused. “Er, once…or twice. But not this car.”

“What’s the difference with this car?”

He smiled at her mysteriously. “You’ll see.” Tori felt a strange swoop in her stomach that didn’t have to do with his smile. “It’ll be fun, really.”

She took a deep breath. “Okay.” She noticed that her voice didn’t sound very convincing.

“So that’s Ms. Broomstick,” Charlotte started conversationally.

Chanel snorted. “You can call her Tori.”

“Mm,” Charlotte answered thoughtfully. “So, Germany! How was it?”

“It was. Oh,” Chanel rifled through her tote bag and handed her an envelope. “Read that.”

Charlotte shuffled along silently as she read, her eyes widening. “Tom Felton? You have Tom Felton writing you and you’re so calm about it?!”

“Well, it’s not like I know him,” Chanel said, pausing. “And he seems really quiet.”

Charlotte handed back the letter, grinning. “Well, you know what they say about the quiet ones…”

“Please, Charlie.” Chanel pretended to look scandalized.

Charlotte leaned in closer. “And Mr. Potter? Is he a quiet one?”

Chanel abruptly stopped walking and shot her a nice, long look. Charlotte’s face tightened, trying to suppress her full-blown mirth. “Sorry, ma’am.” They began to walk again. “They look like they get on well together,” Charlotte said, nodding towards Tori and Harry.

Chanel grunted noncommittally.

“And bloody hell, he looks fantastic in those trousers.” Charlotte murmured, eyeing his backside appreciatively.

Chanel suddenly laughed out loud, then said in a conspiratorial whisper, “I know. I bought them.”

The four stopped upon reaching an old, blue, beat-up looking Ford. Tori relaxed. Doesn’t look so bad…The porter loaded the trunk and everyone moved to get in. Charlotte eagerly slid into the passenger side and slammed the door before anyone else. Chanel snickered and got into the back. Tori raised an eyebrow, but made no comment as she got in the back as well and secured her seat belt.

“Everyone ready?” Harry asked, before pulling the car out smoothly and leaving the station.

Charlotte turned around in her seat to face Tori. “Enjoying the tour so far, ma’am?”

Tori blanched at the name. “Call me Tori, please. And yeah, I’m really enjoying it. It’s been great.”

“Must be really interesting, touring with Draco Rockstar and all.”

Chanel, who had been rifling through her bag, paused briefly and then determinedly resumed her search.

Charlotte continued, unaware of Harry’s shoulders stiffening. “Are the Veelas really as horrible as everyone says they are?”

“Uh,” Tori started, smiling at Harry’s reaction, “They’re pretty bad. They play only one song, and the crowd stands there for hours, uh, spellbound, I guess. Right, Chan?”

Chanel grumbled in agreement, head nearly inside her bag.

“Well, I’ve never heard them and I’m pretty glad I haven’t. Did you know the Ministry banned their songs from ever being played in public buildings? Apparently, a tune of theirs came on and in an hour caused several different major accidents,” she broke off, turning to Harry with her startling blue eyes. “I’m sure when you play Snitch the same thing happens to the Muggles.”

Harry laughed. “Uh, I don’t it has the same effect.”

Tori smiled. “Well, if it did, then I certainly couldn’t do my part.”

Chanel grinned stealthily to herself.

Charlotte frowned. “Well, of course you could. Ms. Steele’s placed a charm on you.”

Tori blinked, shocked. “What?”

Harry was also surprised. Glancing at the two of them in the back seat from the mirror, he asked, “What charm, Chanel?”

Chanel met his gaze firmly in the rear view mirror. “It was an Audire Charm. I didn’t want her turning into a babbling idiot every time you opened your mouth onstage, seeing as how Muggles are particularly sensitive to your singing.” She went back to her search, muttering, “But of course, it’s much more fun to be suspicious, isn’t it?”

Harry didn’t say another word, just pressed his lips together and continued driving, though he glanced quickly at Tori, who was sitting silently in the back seat, stunned.

Her head was swirling. A charm? What is that? What does it do? Why didn’t she tell me? When did she do it? Why? Why didn’t she tell me? She stared out the window, badly wanting to ask, yet already feeling like so much of an outsider. She didn’t want to make the feeling any worse.

Charlotte turned forward in her seat. “I’m really excited about celebrating a Muggle holiday. The Weasley family\'s so big, it’s nearly like I never left home. And I absolutely can’t wait to taste the Crundle,” she chirped, gazing out the window.

Chanel grunted in agreement. Charlotte suddenly turned to Harry. “I\'m really very honored to be able to do this for you, Mr. Potter. As soon as Ms. Steele told me you hadn\'t had a decent holiday in years, I fetched an owl for your letter straightaway. Mr. Weasley was so excited he put in the last bit of repairs himself -- Oh! The Invisibility Booster\'s been tweaked —- ” She abruptly reached across his lap, grazing his thigh as she flipped a switch near his right knee.

She bolted upright immediately, her cheeks flushed. “All systems go.”

Tori was unpleasantly jolted out of her thoughts by the car seeming to disappear around them. She gave a loud gasp. “What the –?”

“Sorry, Tori,” Harry said hurriedly, glancing sideways at Charlotte. “I was going to tell you about that, but…”

She forced herself to breathe slowly and closed her eyes. “No problem. It’s—okay.”
Which it really wasn’t, but what was she going to say? And she already felt like a prize idiot.

Chanel snickered silently. “Ron’s done an excellent job.”

Charlotte peeked back sheepishly at Tori. “Sorry about that, ma’am.”

Tori opened her eyes slowly and tried smiling through her tightened lips, feeling silly. “Don’t—worry—about—it.” But she felt strangely dizzy and quite light-headed; she looked like she was sitting on air, yet she could clearly feel the seat. She decided it would be better to keep her eyes closed.

Finally, Chanel clasped her bag closed. “So, Charlie, who’s there already?”

“Well, Mrs. Weasley, of course. Ginny’s there; my, she’s gotten tall. Bill is off…doing something. Gred and Forge are there – obnoxious pranksters, Ron and possibly Percy.”

Harry rolled his eyes at the mention of Percy’s name. “They’re not so bad, Fred and George.”

Charlotte smiled thinly. “I’ve have the unfortunate pleasure of meeting them through one of my many Pringle siblings, Stevie.”

“What about Mr. Weasley?” Harry asked suddenly. “Is he going to be there?”

Charlotte and Chanel froze. Charlotte looked back at Chanel, who took a deep breath and spoke quietly. “HP, Mr. Weasley passed aw—”

“WHAT?” Harry hit the brake solidly; Charlotte caught herself against the dash and the two in the back lurched forward slightly, restrained by their seat belts.

Harry started to turn around in his seat, but remembered he was driving. His face had paled considerably. “He’s not. I don’t under – ” He cut himself off and swore as the elusive memory flickered briefly in his head. Swearing heatedly under his breath, the car swerved dangerously to the left, off the road, where it rolled to a stop. He closed his eyes, feeling them sting, furious at himself.

“HP, switch with Charlotte. Now,” she said, when Harry didn’t move. He slid out limply as Charlotte jumped out and scurried to the driver’s side.

“Charlie, make this thing fly,” Chanel directed.

The car rumbled back to life and took off. Harry stared straight ahead and exhaled forcefully. When am I going to stop forgetting that? Well, at least it hadn’t been in front of Ron again. And at least he was remembering it some of the time….that was good. Though he was pretty sure he didn’t want to remember the rest, he needed to remember that. The last time he’d been at the Weasleys and asked about Arthur; he caused Mrs. Weasley to cry silently; Ginny had gasped and fled the room, even the twins had been rendered speechless. Ron had had to pull Harry outside and remind him, making him feel ten times worse. That’s why I haven’t been to see them.

It wasn’t Harry’s fault that he couldn’t remember it. But that didn’t make seeing their faces fall any easier. He was startled from his thoughts as Charlotte smashed down on the accelerator; the car rocketed into the air. That, and a sudden, loud cry from behind him. Turning around, he saw Tori’s face screwed up in fear, her hands shaking madly as they clenched the invisible seat, her lips pressed firmly together and her knees drawn into her chest. Chanel looked over at Tori pityingly; there was nothing she could do.

Tori’s head was spinning, her stomach was churning and her heart was somewhere in the vicinity of her feet. A million new questions were flooding her head, but as she wasn’t opening her mouth, they’d have to wait. What in the fuck is going on? Why won’t anyone tell me about these things first?

Harry turned around and resumed his staring out the front. He’d have to talk to her later and apologize about not giving a warning or at least sitting in back with her. But he’d been so excited about going to the Burrow, and then his slip-up…his mind was full at the moment.

Minutes later, Tori inhaled sharply again as her stomach dropped; the car was beginning its descent. Charlotte pulled the nose of the car up slowly as it neared the ground; the wheels squealed as they hit the grass spinning. The Anglia skipped lightly before gliding to a smooth landing in front of a rambling country home.

Three people exited the house in a startlingly fast rate as Harry got out. He felt a grateful surge that he’d had his slip in the car as he was ambushed by Ron, Fred and George.

“Harry! Bloody hell, it’s good to see you.” Ron said.

Fred snorted. “He’s been talking about it almost every minute –”

“—of every day for well over a month,” George said. “You’d think –”

“—he hadn’t seen you in ten years.” Fred finished.

Harry gave a weak but happy smile. “It’s great to be here. Oh,” he turned around to see Tori just opening the car door. “This is Tori,” he said, beckoning her to join them.

Tori’s smile was shaky, as were her legs. “Hi,” she said, nodding to the three before her, all with the same flaming red hair and big grins.

“Tori, this is Ron, and this is Fred –”

“I’m Fred!” George interjected.

Harry shook his head laughingly. “—and the one calling himself Fred is George.”

“Nice to meet you.” Tori said, shaking their hands.

“How did you like the Ford, Harry?” Ron burst out excitedly. “Brilliant, wasn’t it?”

Harry glanced sideways at Tori. “You did a fantastic job, Ron. The booster didn’t go out once.”

Chanel approached with Charlotte then, trying to discern which twin was which.

Charlotte quickly squeezed Ron’s arm and brushed past. “Yes, Ron, fantastic job.”

“Oy! Charlie Too! You didn’t say hello to us!” Fred said.

George whispered loudly, “I don’t think she likes us, that one.”

Harry exchanged a knowing look with Ron. “What makes you say that?” Harry asked.

“We just tried to make her feel at home.” Fred said, shrugging.

Ron snorted. “Yeah, if you call treating her like your personal product tester a good thing. An unknowing one,” he added dryly, as Harry laughed.

“Product testing?” Tori asked.

Fred turned to look at her interestingly. “Yeah, we run a joke shop in Diagon Alley. You’re a Muggle, right?”

…Diagon Alley? Tori thought, nodding.

“Oy, Fred, we haven’t tested any of our products on Muggles since Harry’s pig cousin,” said George, his face brightening. “Say Tori, you wouldn’t –”

“No, she wouldn’t.” Ron said instantly.

“Don’t even think about it, guys.” Harry said firmly, though he was smiling.

“What?” they said together. “We weren’t going to do anything.”

“They certainly weren’t going to just think about it,” Ron muttered.

Chanel gauged the twins suspiciously. “Fred…George,” she pronounced, shifting from left to right.

“Ron.”

There was a soft jut of her brow as her gaze roved slowly over him. “You’re looking...sturdy these days.”

Ron blushed. “Thanks. Been doing a lot around the house.” Both twins’ mouths dropped open at Ron’s reaction. He turned hurriedly. “Let’s go inside. Mum’s been waiting to see you, Harry.”

Tori’s eyes widened as she entered the house; large wooden spoons churned themselves in ceramic bowls; pots jumped and bubbled and boiled lively in the enormous fireplace; pans were flipping their contents with precision upon the griddle. Her mouth dropped open as a huge butcher\'s knife suddenly chased after a fleeing batch of celery.

Mrs. Weasley was busy at the sink sternly lecturing Ginny, who apparently had attempted to clear the dishes with a spell which left chinks in the plates and cracks in the glasses.

“Ginevra Molly Weasley,” Mrs. Weasley said sternly, hands on her hips. “Magic is a privilege, not a present. If you can\'t take the time to properly cast a simple spell—”

Ginny stopped rolling her eyes, as she spotted the group coming in. “Merlin! What took you guys so long?” She quickly sidestepped her mother and ran to Harry, hugging him first.

“Hello, Ginny,” Harry said warmly. Ginny smiled back and moved to hug Chanel next.

Mrs. Weasley whirled around, a bit red in the face. “Oh! Good, you\'re finally here.” She stopped in front of Harry to take him in for long moment, before grasping his arms firmly. “Harry,” she said softly, her eyes tearing. “So handsome. Just like your father.”

She pulled him into a great bear hug. “It’s good to see you too, Mrs. Weasley,” he said quietly, holding on a second longer before pulling back. She examined him once more while wiping away a tear before turning to Chanel.

“Chanel,” she said warmly, clasping her hand. “I was wondering when we’d get you here.”

Chanel smiled faintly, feeling a twinge of guilt. “Well, you know, the fabulous life of a rock star and all.”

Mrs. Weasley turned her attention to Tori, who was warily following the progress of the butcher knife and its vegetarian prey. “Is this Tori?” she asked Harry, who nodded.

“Yeah, Tori, this is Molly Weasley, and Ginny,” he said.

“Hello. It’s good to meet you,” Tori said, somewhat formally; she felt a bit overwhelmed at the attention and the number of people in the house.

“Tori…that’s very nice.” Mrs. Weasley said, trying out her name.

“Oh!” Ginny’s eyes lit up and she turned to Chanel expectantly. “I bet you guys’ve seen Bethany Bloodbath and The Skank Switches. Were they wonderful?” she asked eagerly, before her face suddenly darkened. “Mum wouldn’t let me see them.”

Chanel glanced over at Mrs. Weasley and smiled. “Believe me, they’re overrated.”

Ginny snorted, refusing to be deflated. The errant knife whizzed by her ear just then, causing Tori to gasp and start to duck, but Charlotte caught the cleave cleanly in mid-air as it sliced past Ron.

“Places, everyone. The food’s almost ready.” Everyone but Tori started to move around the table; she was unsure where to go. She felt a light hand on her elbow, and she smiled gratefully as Harry nodded toward a seat before sitting between her and Ron.

Meanwhile, Fred and George had exchanged a look and started inching around the table towards Charlotte. As Chanel sat down opposite Harry and Ron, Charlotte deftly slipped into a spot between Mrs. Weasley and Chanel.

Ginny sat down next to Ron as Mrs. Weasley quickly cast a spell to finish setting the table; blossoms set perfectly in the center. She cleared her throat. “We\'ve much to be thankful for this year, although we\'ve had loss and heartaches...” she trailed off, looking toward the empty spot at head of table.

The mood visibly dimmed. Mrs. Weasley continued on stridently, alarming everyone from their grimness. “This is not what Mr. Weasley would have wanted! No sad faces allowed at the dinner table! Eat, or by Merlin, I\'ll hex you.” There was a low chuckling around the table, and everyone heartily dug in.

Charlotte’s eyes widened as Fred levitated a small black sauce bottle in Tori’s direction. Ron caught on and grabbed the bottle before it passed Harry. Charlotte smiled triumphantly and was awarded with sullen looks from Fred and George. Ginny laughed while poking at her mother\'s interesting attempt at the roast turkey. Talk was sparse as smacking and chomping sounds pleasantly filled in the silence.

Suddenly, a low, booming whoosh! sounded in fireplace. Everyone started as a stocky, well-built man with familiar red hair ducked from under the mantel, brushing soot from a Muggle-style ski jacket. Tori’s mouth fell open, staring in amazement at the person and at the fireplace. Did…he just…come down the…fireplace?

Chanel raised her brow, and Charlotte dropped a spoon onto her plate. “Merlin.”

All the Weasleys chimed at once: “Charlie!”

“Charles!” Mrs. Weasley gasped. “You said you didn’t think you’d make it in from Romania.”

Charlie grinned sheepishly, exposing a set of white teeth against his rather tanned face.

“My, but they just get sturdier around here,” Chanel murmured, while Charlotte sat in stunned approval and Tori nodded as well, still perplexed over the mode of arrival.

Harry stood quickly to shake Charlie’s hand. “Hello, Charlie. How’s Romania?”

Charlie spoke, his voice deep and rumbly as he brushed soot from Harry’s sleeve. “Well, I’m thankful every day for dragons; otherwise, we’d freeze.” He eased out of his jacket and moved around to kiss the top of his mother’s head. “How’s everyone?”

Ron scooted over to make room for Charlie, who conjured his own chair, to Tori’s continued amazement. “At least I don’t see any more burns.”

“I’ve been kind of…here and there lately,” Charlie remarked, wrestling a helping of Crundle onto his plate.

“Well, I\'m glad you came,” Ginny said conversationally. “Now Ron can bore someone else with his Chudley Cannon stories. He practically sleeps in his robes.” She rolled her eyes for emphasis.

There was some polite sniggering and some outright laughter, from the twins, as Ron blushed. “I do not sleep in them. I just haven’t hung them up,” he said indignantly.

“It\'s disgusting, Ron,” Ginny continued. “You’ve got sweat and done god-knows-what in those things.”

Mrs. Weasley leveled a semi-serious look in her youngest son’s direction as she got up and directed some empty pans into the kitchen. “I hope you haven’t been keeping that muddy broomstick under your bed, young man.”

Charlie chuckled, absently reaching for the small black bottle that Ron had set by his plate. Charlotte leaned over and deftly swiped it away before Charlie noticed, smiling innocently. Tired of being the center of attention, Ron spoke with forced calm. “It is NOT under my bed, Mum.”

“He’s telling the truth, Mum,” Fred said.

“It’s not under his bed.” George added.

Ron glared at them, sure that nothing good was going to come of this.

“It’s under Ginny’s bed,” Fred deadpanned, and the many laughs that started soon became disguised as coughs.

Chanel slowly pulled on a thick, creamy spoonful of Dullard\'s Stew. “I wouldn’t mind taking a look at your broomstick, Ron.”

Charlotte nearly dropped the bottle she had been holding Fred and George simultaneously choked on their butterbeers. Harry laughed at their reaction, and Tori smiled, although she thought she knew what Chanel was implying, she couldn’t help but think of the green book that Harry had given her to read. Is that what Ron did?

Ron sat up straighter, though his face was redder. “Anytime, Nel.”

“I bet you can ride a broomstick well,” Fred said, recovering.

George added, “Although Ron’s hasn’t been ridden in a while.”

Harry suddenly became quite interested in his mashed potatoes, unable to look at Ron. Tori bit her lip hard to stifle the burst of laughter. Ron was speechless and twice as red as before. Ginny rose from the table, grumbling. “I\'m out of here.”

Charlie shot a sympathetic look down at Ron. Mrs. Weasley, taken aback by the bits and pieces she’d heard, decided to remain silent and in the kitchen.

Chanel sat, seemingly oblivious, licking the remains of stew off her spoon. Ron watched her interestedly, and Tori exchanged an amused look with Harry.

“Take a picture, dear brother,” Fred said, getting up from the table.

“At least you can pin that to your wall…and keep it.” George followed his brother out of the room.

Tori bit her lip again, but gently; it was starting to get sore. Harry shook his head, laughing, as Ron glared after them. “When do they leave again?” he asked furiously.

Charlotte abruptly extended her hand to Charlie, who had been looking at Tori. “Charles Charlotte Pringle. Can’t believe I’m meeting another Charlie,” she said, grinning.

Slightly distracted, Charlie put down his fork and engulfed her small hand in his bigger one. “Sorry. Hello.”

Charlotte practically melted. “So, you work with dragons?”

They began talking as Chanel got up and grabbed a few dishes to take in to the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley looked up from the sink, her wand in hand, and smiled. “Oh, dear, you didn’t have to bring them in. You could have just –” she stopped herself abruptly and took the dishes, smiling. “That’s fine.”

Ron pushed away from the table and started grabbing dishes as well. Charlie broke off from his conversation to look at Tori. Harry stopped laughing after Ron. “Oh, I’m sorry, Charlie, I didn’t introduce you. This is Tori; she plays keyboards and sings backup. Tori, this is Charlie, the second oldest Weasley.”

Feeling a little more relaxed, Tori stuck her hand across the table. “Nice to meet you, Charlie.”

He gently took her hand in his. “Hi,” he said, somewhat shyly.

Tori felt a smile quirk her lips, surprised by the sudden change in his demeanor. “Hi,” she said.

Harry watched Charlie with a mixture of amusement and sudden wariness. “…Bill’s the oldest; he’s a curse breaker for the bank.”

Curse breaker? Tori shook Charlie’s hand and withdrew hers.

“And being particularly mysterious lately,” Mrs. Weasley said, her wand directing the rest of the plates into the kitchen, while Tori stared. She followed their progress to the sink, then shook her head and turned back to the two at the table.

“What’s a curse breaker?”

Harry and Charlie started to speak at the same time, but Charlotte stood up just then. “Well, since everyone’s finished, how about a game of Exploding Snap?”

Tori’s mouth opened again, a different question ready to be asked, but just then Ron, Ginny, Fred and George came thundering down the stairs. Ron was holding two large brooms. “Maybe later,” Ron said, as Harry’s eyes widened in surprise. “Harry, Charlie, wanna go play some Quidditch?”

Harry stood up immediately and took the broom in Ron’s left hand from him. His eyes seemed to glaze over as he lovingly inspected his old Firebolt. “Definitely.”

“Come watch,” Ron said to the other girls, as Harry was absorbed with the broom. “Come see what Harry used to be good at.”

Harry looked up sharply, but it was quickly replaced by a small smile. “I can beat you any day of the week without practice.”

“You used to play?” Tori asked, surprised, remembering the pictures and what she had read so far of the book.

Harry nodded, his gaze wistful. “Back at school.”

Ron looked eagerly at Chanel and Charlotte, standing near the table. “You two coming as well?”

Chanel glanced at Charlotte. “We never did unpack.”

The bright look in Charlotte’s eyes dulled slightly. “I guess I should get on it, then,” she said, slipping her beret from her head and shaking out her thick head of raven-colored hair. “Suppose it wouldn’t hurt to get an early rest, either.”

Chanel turned her attention to the stunning Blitzkrieg gripped in Ron’s hand. “Later, boys,” she said lazily.

The group went outside to the back, where Fred and George uttered a quick word, lighting up the area. Tori tried and failed to conceal a gasp. Ron smiled. “Wicked, isn’t it?”

Tori nodded, and George pointed to an old wooden picnic table. “You can sit on that, Tori.”

“Just watch out for the gnomes,” Fred added helpfully, and Tori, already turned in the direction of the table, stopped and turned around.

“Gnomes? Really?” she asked, looking to Harry.

“You’re fine,” he said reassuringly. “But you should keep your legs up.”


***


Chanel followed behind Charlotte as they trudged up the stairs. They were staying in Fred and George’s old room, and she surveyed it carefully. “I think those two have it in for me.”

Chanel snorted and fell onto a bed. “So you met them through Stevie, huh?”

Charlotte rolled her eyes as she dragged a trunk to the closet. “It was the worst. Seamus took us to the Quidditch Cup. Fred –or was it George— one of them jinxed the shamrocks on our tent so that the clovers always fell off. Mrs. Finnegan was livid.”

“Typical Fred and George,” Chanel snorted, then paused. “Why are they letting us sleep here…in their room?”

“I know,” Charlotte agreed, her eyes narrowing. “Suspicious, isn’t it? They offered it up right away and said they’d sleep in the attic.”

“Mm,” Chanel said, thinking. “Ron’s room is on the…third floor, yes?”

“What are you up to, ma’am?” Charlotte asked, a slow smile beginning to spread.

Chanel rose from the bed and drifted into the hall. “Nothing…nothing,” she said lightly.


***


Tori sat on the table as Ron divided the six players into teams. “Harry, you, George and I are against Ginny, Fred and Charlie. Two good players,” he said, indicating himself and Ginny, “a Beater each,” he nodded at the twins, “and two people who haven’t played in a long while.”

They all laughed, though Harry was a second late joining in. They eagerly jumped on their brooms and rose into the sky, soliciting another gasp from Tori.

“Keep your mouth closed, Tori!” Fred yelled from above.

“There are frogs around here who look for wide-open mouths,” George quipped, and Tori snapped her mouth closed, but continued to stare in awe.


***


Thankful that Mrs. Weasley slept on the first floor, Chanel made her way down a floor, the lighting immediately adjusting for her. Ron’s bedroom lit up upon her entrance, and she stepped gingerly over the open bag spilling across his doorway. Various books and parchments littered the desk and part of the floor. A dusty, old Muggle chemistry set was pushed into a corner of the room. On one side of the bed, discarded clothing piled up where it had been most likely been taken off. She pinched a scrap of silky material from the top of the pile. “Mm, boxers.”

She sat on the bed, and leaned back to take in the posters pinned to the ceiling. She squinted. “…That’s Ron.” She began scanning the other posters for his face.


***


Outside, Tori was finding it difficult to keep her mouth closed.

Watching them was amazing. The makeshift game was fun, yet competitive. Ginny immediately scored on the other team, earning her a Bludger from George, which Fred deflected onto Harry, who rolled quickly to his right to avoid it.

Ron raised an eyebrow as Harry swung upright again. “Not bad,” he said, and Harry grinned at him.

After half an hour, they decided on a break. Charlie and Ginny went to fetch some drinks. The others sat on and near the picnic table.

“So, how do you like Quidditch?” Harry asked.

“It\'s...amazing. You guys are all so good.” Tori said honestly, staring at the broomsticks leaning against the table.

Fred suddenly flicked an errant gnome away from his shoe, causing Tori’s eyes to widen as the little potato-shaped figure scurried into the tall grass. “It\'s a great game. Wait till you see a real one. Played the real way.”

“That\'s Quidditch.” George stated, and the others nodded.

“How do you really play?” Tori asked, curious.

The others immediately began talking over one and another to explain to me about the players, the balls and the rules. They were interrupted by Charlie and Ginny, who had returned with bottles of butterbeer. Tori, who had seen it at dinner but opted not to try it, took one from Charlie, eyeing it apprehensively.

“It’s good,” Harry said encouragingly, and Tori looked at him. He nodded, and she cast a quick glance around to see the others gulping it down. She raised the bottle to her lips and wet them, cautiously tasting it.

“Well?” Ron asked, who had heard Harry and was watching Tori.

“It’s good,” she said slowly, licking her lips quickly. “It tastes like…buttered rum.”

“Rum?” George said suddenly. “We don’t have rum; but we did bring some Firewhiskey.”

Tori coughed and took another sip. “This is fine,” she said quickly.

“You guys ready to call it a game?” Fred asked.

Harry snorted. “Hardly.”

“You’re only up by one!” Ron said.

“Not for long,” Ginny smirked.

And with that, everyone set their bottles down and launched into the air, immediately starting the game again. Forty minutes later, all six landed wearily and headed towards the table, broomsticks dragging.

“Ginny, never again will I say you can’t play Quidditch on my team.” Fred said, impressed. Ginny rolled her eyes at her brother, but she beamed as she headed into the house.

The rest started heading inside too; Harry held back as Tori carefully got off of the table, checking the area around it first. Satisfied, she stood up and smiled at him. “That was awesome. You were great.”

He chuckled at awesome. “Thanks. It’s been a while since I played.” He smiled at the Firebolt. “Felt like I’d never been off it.”

Tori reached out hesitantly and touched it lightly, awed. “This actually flies…and you fly on it.” She shook her head. “Wow.”

He grinned. “Want to ride it?”

Her eyebrows lifted. “Ride it? Go up there?”

Harry nodded, and let go of his broom. To her astonishment, it hung in mid-air, right at her hip. Tori stared in amazement and fear. “Uh, I don’t think I’m ready to ride your broomstick.”

She paused as the recent dinner conversation floated in her head, and hurried to cover it up. “I—I’d like to, really, but I don’t think –” she rambled, but cut herself off, seeing that Harry was obviously remembering it, too.

He had trouble holding back a slightly embarrassed smile as Tori blushed. “Another time,” she managed, stepping inside the house.

“Sure,” he said, following after her.

The others were gathering in what Tori guessed was the living room as Charlotte skipped down the stairs in a white sleeveless top and shorts, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders. “So what’d I miss?” she asked, slightly breathless.

Fred eyed Charlotte appreciatively. “A great game.”

“You should’ve come out to watch, Charlie Too,” George said.

“Uh, George?” Ron said. “We lost.”

“Next time, we won’t.”

Tori looked around, still flushed. “Where’s Chan?”

Charlotte jerked her thumb toward the stairs before turning to Charlie. “You played also?”

“Yeah, he played,” Ron poked Charlie good-naturedly. “A little slow to start, though.”

“I believe, little Ronniekins,” Fred interjected, “that he was on my team, and my team won, so the slow starters are fast finishers.”

“Keep your foot in your mouth, Ron.” George said, and Ron scowled at him.

“It was incredible to watch,” Tori added, feeling bad for Ron.

“I’ll bet,” Charlotte said, her eyes shining as she gave Charlie her most winning smile. He smiled back, somewhat embarrassed.

“I think I’ll go change,” Tori said, standing up. “Charlotte, do you know where I’m at?”

Charlotte blinked. “Oh. Yes. Ginny’s room.” She then leaned over to Ron and whispered, “I think you’d better make sure your room is in a right state.”

Tori looked around, but Ginny wasn’t in the room any more. “Uh, thanks,” she said slowly.

Ron stood suddenly. “I’ll show you, Tori.”

“Thanks,” she said gratefully, and followed him up three flights of stairs. “One more set up and then it’s the first door on the left.”

She thanked him again and continued up the stairs. Ron took a deep breath and turned to go into his room, but stopped in the doorway.

Chanel turned toward the door casually. “Nice posters,” she said, gesturing to the team picture of the Chudley Cannons.

Ron slowly entered his room, turning his gaze onto the posters. “Thanks,” he said sheepishly. “I rather like them myself.”

She leaned back onto on elbow. “You should. You’re in most of them.” She eyed the broomstick still in his hand. “Nice stick.”

Ron blushed. “You noticed?” he said proudly, tilting his head toward the posters.

Chanel sat up now, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. “It’s quite impressive,” she remarked, her foot absently brushing the boxers she’d looked at earlier.

The color on his face deepened as he followed her foot. He snapped his head back up. “Thanks. It’s been an incredible experience. Kind of like yours and the band, I guess.”

“Mm,” she gave a relaxed shrug, watching Ron. “I suppose. Sometimes I still get butterflies.” She laughed suddenly. “It’s your bed, Ron. Why don’t you come sit down?”

Ron smiled sheepishly again. “You’re right.” He moved to sit down. “I know what you mean about butterflies. They just seem to keep getting worse for me.”

She frowned slightly. “Really? Why’s that?”

Ron started forward as one of her shoes dropped and hit the floor. “I—I just meant that when I first started playing Quidditch and now, I still get butterflies, and they don\'t seem to go away.”

“Have you tried picturing everyone naked?” She grinned at his face. “It’s pretty funny, especially with the crazed fans wearing war paint.”

Ron choked on thin air. “What? Naked? Are you bloody serious?”

“Bloody serious,” she mocked softly, leaning closer and brushing a lock of hair from his eyes.

Ron held her gaze as his breathing slowed. “And why would…picturing people…without clothing…help me in a Quidditch match?”

Chanel chuckled. “Well, it’s supposed to relax you, help you let off some…steam.” She leaned into him lightly. “You look like someone who needs to let off some steam.”

Ron forced himself to take a deep breath, and then the corners of his mouth turned up in a slight smirk. “So, in theory, picturing you naked will help me relax?” He lowered his voice. “Hate to say it, but I doubt it.”

The smirk did it for Chanel. “Will power, Mr. Weasley,” she murmured, brushing her lips against his, surprised by how soft and full they were. “Mind over matter.”

Ron paused. “Will power, huh?” A small smile appeared on his face, and he leaned in again, increasing the pressure on her lips and parting them. She inhaled sharply.


***


Downstairs, Ginny had just beat Fred, George and Charlie at Exploding Snap. She yawned loudly and stood. “I’ll quit while I’m ahead. Night, everybody.”

Tori jumped up to follow her, not wanting to get lost, and glanced at Harry as she passed. “Night,” she said, before going up the stairs. The twins exchanged a look and headed out the front door, claiming that they needed to get something from the shed.

Charlie and Harry walked up the stairs together. They both paused at Ron’s door, which was not quite shut. Both raised their eyebrows at the soft, muffled sounds coming from the inside. Harry’s mouth opened, and he turned to Charlie, who jerked his head toward the stairs. “There’s room in the attic,” he whispered to Harry’s unasked question. They continued up five more flights of stairs.


***


Ron’s warm tongue darted into Chanel’s mouth as his strong, broad hands slid up along her back, pressing her into his chest. His mouth eagerly pulled and sucked at her lips as they slowly sunk down upon the bed under his weight. He slipped one knee between her thighs, parting them, causing her to gasp at the brazen move. He paused for a moment, only to adjust himself more comfortably. He captured the pulse in her neck with his tongue.

In a brief moment of clarity, Chanel murmured, “Door, Mr. Weasley.”

Without breaking from her, Ron smoothly withdrew his wand from his back pocket and flicked it towards the door. It slammed shut with a resounding clap.


***


Tori woke sleepily, and cursed that she had drank another bottle of butterbeer after coming inside from the game. As quietly as she could, she stumbled out of Ginny\'s room. She knew she had passed a bathroom on her way up, so she felt around for the stairs. Her hand came into contact with the railing, which she grabbed onto gratefully. Slowly creeping down, she grunted in pain as she stubbed her toe upon reaching the landing, and continued to limp slightly to the door she wanted.

Tori opened the door and stepped out carefully, straining her eyes to find the bottom of the staircase. She carefully inched her way across the floor, flinging her arm out in front of her. It immediately smacked into something hard, and she had to bite down on her lip to hold in the cursing.

It was the staircase railing. She hurried up the flights, then stopped, realizing that she wasn’t sure what floor she was on. Praying she was on the fourth floor, she felt around for a door, and went inside.

It was another bathroom. How ironic, she thought, turning to leave and immediately bumping into someone who stifled her cry of surprise with a rough hand.

“Shhh! You okay?”

Tori pulled the hand off of her mouth, backing away quickly. “Harry? I\'m fine…just lost.”

Hesitantly, he stepped forward, putting them both inside the bathroom. “That can happen a lot here,” he said lightly, his voice soft and unsure. The door clicked shut softly behind him, and Tori heard something come to rest on the counter.

He murmured a word that Tori couldn’t hear, yet she recognized it from earlier, outside, as three candles lit suddenly. She could now see slightly more than Harry’s outline, who was smiling nervously, and she felt herself smile, too, as a surge ran through her.

“What are you doing up?” she asked, feeling her heartbeat increase.

“Finding out who was making all that noise.” Harry stepped toward her, a grin playing on his lips, and she looked up at him as he stopped, barely touching her. She felt the counter press into her back as she struggled to contain a silly smile.

Harry tilted his head suddenly. “What\'s that?”

“What’s –oh,” she trailed off, as one of his fingers gently touched the corner of her lip, grazing the corner where it was a little rough. “Had to bite my lip one too many t – wait. You can see that?”

Harry nodded, and he moved closer, both hands dropping slowly to her waist, where his fingers began tracing the waistband of her flannel pants. Feeling slightly lightheaded, Tori’s hands slowly made their way up his forearms. “Can I ask you something?” she whispered suddenly, as if she was about to forget, but still focused on his arms.

Harry had started to lean in, but stopped. “Yeah.”

“What’s that charm for – the one that Chanel did?”

Harry briefly frowned upon remembering that, but he was more interested in what he felt as his fingers continuing to trace the inch of bare skin between her pants and top. “I\'m not entirely sure, but I think it has to do with…auditory…something.”

Tori was quickly losing her train of thought as his fingers dragged on her waist. Her hands continued to run up his arms to his shoulders, and she finally looked up at him. “So…it\'s not…bad?”

Harry smiled suddenly, as Tori had leaned in herself. “No, it\'s not bad.”

Tori opened her mouth to say something to end the conversation, but Harry beat her to it, capturing her open mouth quickly.


***


Ron suddenly stopped, grabbed Chanel’s thighs and wrapped them around his waist. She felt dizzy upon being pulled upright into his lap.

Ron grinned; his hands making nimble work of her bra and shirt, quickly flipping them over her head and onto the floor. Chanel gasped as cool air hit her skin; she sucked her breath back in as his hungry mouth nearly devoured her breasts, licking and pinching her aching nipples between his teeth. She moaned and bucked hard into the delicious bulge of his crotch.

He pulled himself away briefly to mutter something, and his sweater smoothly disengaged from his body and tumbled to the floor. Chanel took in his broad chest, creamy like fresh milk, a smattering of freckles dotting the utter paleness. His biceps were solid and jumped at her light touch. She laughed huskily and traced her fingers down towards his taut abs. He groaned as she teased the zipper of his pants and shifted so that she could have full access.


***


Tori’s arms tightened around Harry, pulling him against her. His hands played with the hem around her waist. She urgently moved her hands down to his waist, tugging at the white shirt. They broke apart just long enough to discard of it and drop it on the floor. Feeling his warm chest against her sent another strong jolt through her as he leaned in to kiss her again.

She could feel him grin against her lips. \"Your turn,\" he murmured, still playing with the hem of her top.

Tori instantly felt a little shy upon realizing that the camisole was all she had on top, but she wasn\'t about to stop, and quickly reasoned that there wasn\'t sufficient light to embarrass her.

Coming back to the present, she felt another shock, a combination of surprise and desire, as a wave of cold air told her that her pants were on the ground, and she was now standing there, sans pants.

She pulled back to look at Harry, who was grinning sheepishly. He looked down at what she was wearing, and said something under his breath.

\"What wa--?\" she didn\'t get to finish her sentence as his lips found hers again, seeking more, pulsing faster.

Tori suddenly felt herself being lifted up, and placed on the edge of the sink; the sudden jolt of coldness sent her leaning into him; she immediately wrapped her legs around him, pulling him against her firmly, as she had done once before. She felt herself grin, as it caught Harry off guard.

She could feel him smiling against her lips, before opening his mouth and kissing her again roughly. A wave of pleasure surged though her as his body start to rock against hers in a rough rhythm. Her own body responded, rocking back, pushing into him, and she used her legs to hold him tightly against her.

Tori broke away as a moan sounded in her throat, and the rocking slowed down temporarily as she reached for the top of his pants. He paused, and the rocking stopped completely. His grip tightened on her waist as he felt her fingers slide just underneath the material. The squeezing motion caused her to momentarily forget what she was doing, she stopped, her breath catching. Harry leaned to kiss her firmly, and that set her brain back in gear. Her hand slipped downward--

They froze suddenly upon hearing the doorknob being jiggled softly. They watched each other, unmoving, still hot with desire.

Harry pulled back and said, \"One moment.\" He quietly lowered her to the ground, and they quickly pulled on what clothes they had thrown off. He grabbed his wand and extinguished what light there was, before putting his lips next to her ear, and breathed, \"Stay behind me.”

Tori nodded, pressing herself behind him. She held her breath as he opened the door and they slid out, trying to walk normally. As they passed, Tori turned her head to see a tall, dark shadow duck into the bathroom, and she quickly lowered her head against Harry’s back.

They tiptoed down two flights of stairs, where Harry stopped in front of a door Tori recognized and released her arm. They stood looking at each other for a long moment before the door opening above them startled them into action.

\"Night,\" she said breathlessly.

\"Good night,\" he whispered, before turning and going back up the stairs.


***


Chanel tugged the zipper down slowly, torturing him. He closed his fist around her hand, resulting in a low, quick buzz of metal. She sat back, somewhat stunned, as he firmly guided her hand through the opening of his pants; her knuckles brushing his hot, throbbing cock. Ron closed his eyes, exhaling.

She curled her fingers around him in slow curiosity, pushing down a lump that suddenly appeared in her throat. Ron pressed his forehead against her chest, cursing softly. Chanel sprinkled his forehead with soft kisses while she stoked the fire that was quickly raging out of control.

Ron swept his arms under her ass, lifting her as he stood, and gently lowered her to the bed; he stamped angrily at the cuffs on her pants. He murmured a spell and her pants slipped down around her ankles and onto the floor.

She pulled back the blanket and slid under it as he finally stumbled out of his pants. Ron sealed the heat of their bodies with a long, dredging kiss and pushed away her cotton panties in one smooth move. Chanel clutched his neck and drew her knees to her chest to receive him.

Ron entered in one fell swoop, and a low, delicious groan rolling from his throat as his body plunged into the depths of hers. She arched her back; whispering, licking his ear.

“Shhh.”

Ron shuddered beautifully on top; forcing himself to slow the frantic rocking motion that bordered on sweet agony. A sheen broke across his face as he built towards release. She tightened her legs around his waist, urging him on. Ron’s powerful hips pounded still; his mouth slipped open; fighting climax. Suddenly, her body tightened and she squeezed the muscles around his staff.

Ron’s face contorted as he exploded before gently collapsing onto her. “Bloody hell,” he muttered.

She chuckled softly, the top of her head grazing his chin. “Nice broomstick, Mr. Weasley.\"