Hogwarts 2022 - Lonely Tower Alcove

[Silverbird]

​

The setting sun cast an orange glow across Hogwarts, a few soft beams of light breaking through the dusty window to fall across Charles’ work. The young Ravenclaw glanced up as he felt the warmth against his face. Far below, the sunlight glittered across the surface of the lake and danced amongst the dark shadows of the forest. He loved the view from up here at this time of day — but it wouldn’t last forever, and he’d really rather be finished before the light ran out and he was forced to relocate to the library or common room. With a wry smile, he turned his attention back to his work.

The young wizard was tucked away in a stone alcove in one of the castle’s many towers, not far from the astronomy tower and attached to a winding stairway which nobody ever seemed to use. A flat stone ledge before the window served as seat and table both, and at present was littered with parchment, quill, a reference book, and a spread of worn but intricately decorated cards taken from a nearby deck. The latest of those, resting between two others, depicted eight wooden staves, angled in the open sky — almost like a brace of arrows let loose by unseen archers below. Charles picked the card up to study for a moment, then set it down again and turned to his textbook.

“Eight of staves…” he muttered aloud as he flicked through the pages, glancing rapidly over the text. He vaguely remembered seeing the card in class, but… “Ah. The swiftness of arrows in flight; a journey or unexpected news, the necessity of change, unfolding events set in motion…”

The young man paused for a minute, glancing back to his cards with a frown. To the left of the Eight of Staves was a shining sun, a generally positive, optimistic sign. To the right, a pair of lovers joining hands before a heavenly figure. The whole spread seemed to suggest a pretty straightforward reading, but Charles shook his head.

“Seems unlikely.” And, perhaps more to the point, a plain, bubbly reading like that seemed unlikely to impress Professor Sumner very much. The Ravenclaw sighed and reached across the alcove for his wand, then regretfully erased the last few lines from his parchment.

“Maybe, instead…”

Scooping up the Sun and the Lovers, Charles shuffled them back into the deck, then quickly dealt out two replacement cards. He crossed his arms as he considered the new cards in silence for a moment, his head tilted to the side. The first depicted a man hanging upside-down by his foot from a crossbeam, at the mercy of a destiny beyond his control. The second was what could only be described as a classical devil, leering back up at the young wizard.

After a moment, Charles sighed in resignation and reached for his quill. “That does seem more likely…”

@LeaT

 

[LeaT]

Liz would have violently denied any indication that she had been hunting for the young Ravenclaw since their encounter in the chaotic DADA session. But why else would she stalk the halls of Hogwarts on a systematic basis the last few nights after dinner? She couldn't quite shake that feeling of how he had reacted to her. While she was certainly burdened with her own insecurities, the magical world was not one of them. But she relished how vulnerable the boy had seemed both magically and sexually. Liz felt like she almost always played a supporting role with her friends and even her family. The sensation of feeling just a little dominant was somewhat intoxicating and she was eager to explore a situation where she wasn't fully taken for granted and used.

His habit of talking to himself as he sat and the remote alcove as he read the cards, helped her find him without revealing her own presence. She watched him for a bit, just out of his site but close enough to see what he was doing. Seeing him reshuffle and draw new cards as if unhappy with the fate he had revealed earlier. She smiled to herself as she saw him draw the next two, she easily recognized the images.

As he began to write she moved closer. "You don't get to keep drawing until you find what you want, fate doesn't work that way." Her voice had a hint of accusation, as if he truly wanted to be persecuted by the devil as he hung helplessly. "But I must say, your fantasy has a certain appeal." She snickered as she sat down next to him, close enough for their bodies to touch and feel each other's warmth in the cool alcove. She slipped her right arm around his shoulders, drawing his left shoulder close to her breast. Her wand was in her left hand and she idly tapped it against his thigh, not necessarily threateningly, but if he lacked confidence in his magical defenses, it might seem disturbingly aggressive. "Is that why you enjoyed being bound to me so much?" She practically dared him to defy her accusation.

@Silverbird

 

[Silverbird]

With his focus occupied by his homework, Charles didn’t notice Liz’s approach until the Slytherin girl was practically on top of him. His body stiffened at the sudden sound of her voice, the unpleasant shock of finding that he wasn’t as alone as he’d thought blending with apprehension as he recognised her voice from the other night — and a touch of irritation at the accusation in her tone. The Ravenclaw opened his mouth to defend himself, but before he could utter a word she’d slid into the alcove beside him and wrapped her arm once more around his shoulders. His initial retort died on his lips.

He didn’t stay quiet for long, though. As Liv leveled her main accusation — and as he felt the tap of her wand against his thigh — Charles started abruptly to his feet. His left arm brushed against Liz’s breast as he slipped out of her grasp, and the edge of his robe caught on the deck of cards.

“N-no, that’s —”

He twisted back towards her to protest, his face a deep red, and the sudden movement sent cards and parchment scattering to the ground at their feet. The Ravenclaw broke off his objection with an irritated huff, gaze dropping to the fallen cards, and he took a moment to compose himself.

“I mean… I told you already, I wasn’t enjoying it.” He insisted with as much conviction as he could muster, but the fact that he was still looking at the cards and not meeting her gaze rather undercut his statement. The truth was that he’d struggled to get their encounter out of his mind. The memory kept invading his dreams, and coming to him unbidden during dull moments in class. The sight of her blouse clinging to her wet chest, her wand at his throat, fingers wrapped around his cock — even now, thinking back on it made his heart beat faster. He tried not to focus on it.

What even was this? Was she after some kind of revenge? Charles almost never saw anyone else up in here, so for her, specifically, to run into him like this — was she stalking him? At that thought he finally did look up, apprehensive blue-grey eyes searching her expression for a hint to her intentions. For a moment his gaze flicked to his wand, which he’d left by the window. It was closer to her hand than his, where she’d only have to stretch a little to reach it. His gaze moved back to her, and he raised open hands placatingly.

“Look, I’m sorry about what happened, but… you can’t blame me for it. Besides, you’re the one who took a cheap shot at the Professor, so if it was anyone’s fault, it was yours.”

 

[LeaT]

His every reaction delighted the older Slytherian, especially enjoying how his words were stolen from his very tongue before he could blurt out whatever it was he was thinking. The way he stiffened and froze, like a prey animal caught by a predator. She didn't often get to play the predator but she certainly enjoyed it. She didn't try to stop him from standing but the hand that had been around his shoulder, caressed along his back as he pulled away from her. He wasn't the most muscular of students but he wasn't all doughy either. She leaned back casually, making herself comfortable in what had been his quiet little alcove as if she had won it from him.

She watched as he made a mess of his card deck and homework parchment. She cared little about the latter but she waved her wand with one hand and saying "Accio Cards!" while holding out the other as the cards flew in order into her hand until she held the entire deck neatly stacked.

"Your mouth says no..." She smiled as she looked up at him then deliberately looked to just below his waist. "...but your pecker said otherwise." She giggled and looked back up at him then licked her lips as she fanned the cards with well practiced ease. She flipped the top card down on the seat next to her, it was the lovers once again. "Wasn't that part of your real reading? A bit optimistic if you ask me." She said with a sly smile as she held the cards towards him face down. "Why don't you try again?" She asked as she leaned towards him, suggesting he should draw the next card.

Liz confidently crossed her legs, causing her skirt to ride up higher, showing more of her long dark legs. The gesture seemed well practiced but she kept her eyes on his, as if defying him to sneak a peak at her exposed flesh as he stood above her. She seemed annoyed when instead his eyes went to the seat next to her and her eyes followed his. Seeing his wand so close she picked it up with her wand hand, now holding both. It was a careless wizard that let his wand be so easily taken by another, but then Charles hadn't really had a lifetime to adjust to the idea of wands and magic.

"You're sorry it happened or sorry that you enjoyed it?" She said, her lips curling into a smile as she continued to toy with him. "A cheap shot!?" She said as if his words hurt her but then laughed at the idea of her being offended by him. She was enjoying his nervousness at her holding both wands and she tapped the cards with the tips. "Now are you going to draw or not?" She asked again, her tone softening a little hoping he might relax just enough to have some fun.

 

[Silverbird]

As the girl’s eyes traveled ever-so-deliberately below his waist, the young wizard would have flushed an even deeper red — except he was already so red that that was hardly possible. Of course she’d remember a detail like that! Maybe standing up had been a mistake. A more confident — and possibly smarter — lad might have considered that a good thing, but there was nothing about this encounter that would give Charles such a rosy perspective. The way the girl’s eyes roamed over his body, the way she giggled and her tongue traced her lips, even the way her hand trailed against his back — it all reminded him of nothing more than a cat toying with its meal.

Which, he supposed, made him the mouse.

That seemed fitting. He certainly felt like one: caught in a trap, at the mercy of a creature much more powerful than he. Of course, a real mouse would try to scurry away, to turn and run. That wasn’t really an option here. His second mistake had been to draw her attention to his wand, or to leave it vulnerable in the first place. The young wizard’s weight shifted uncomfortably as her fingers closed so casually over it. When their eyes met for a moment, he had that same nervous look that he’d held in the moment when her wand had been at his throat. At least he had some idea what she wanted now. Entertainment, a plaything; it wasn’t a role he cared for, but had no real choice but to play along.

When she turned the words of his apology back on him, Charles let his raised hands fall helplessly to his sides, slapping against his thighs. “I mean…” he started to clarify, before cutting himself off with a shake of his head. There were no winning words there; whatever he said, she’d find a way to make him regret it. After a momentary, defeated sigh, he acquiesced to her other request instead, and reached for the deck of cards. “... fine.”

His fingers rested for a moment on the top card of the deck, but he didn’t draw right away. Looking down at the cards, Charles had just noticed the view his vantage point afforded him, and the sliver of smooth, bare skin visible just beneath the deck. Her skirt must have shifted a little as she sat down. Had she realized? He glanced back up to her, and took notice of the way she was sitting — the way she leaned back in the alcove, his alcove, like a conqueror on her throne. The thought bothered him; his brow furrowed for a moment before he looked down to the cards and finally drew, a swift and almost defiant motion. Upon seeing what he’d drawn, a wry smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

The card depicted three figures working beneath a carved stone archway that was engraved with three five-pointed, encircled stars. One of the figures, a young man, knelt by the base of the archway with a chisel in hand, and was engaged in conversation with the two others, who were older and enrobed, and seemed to be giving direction from a set of blueprints they held in hand. “Three of Pentacles,” Charles announced. It was a symbol of learning, of education and apprenticeship and collaboration. Professor Sumner had laughed when it had been the first card drawn in her class.

The young wizard turned the card so that Liz could see it, and for a moment the light from the window and his fingers on the card obscured the artwork such that only one of the older figures and the kneeling young man were visible. “Maybe the cards are trying to remind me I have homework?” He asked archly, one eyebrow raised, amusement winning out over nerves for a moment. He leant forward to set it down beside the card the Slytherin had drawn, and his brief smile slipped at the sight of it. The Lovers again. It was almost like the deck was teasing him. Maybe he really shouldn’t have tried drawing a second set… but on the other hand, he hadn’t been the one to draw it this time. Did that mean anything?

Despite himself, Charles looked up to the older girl again. He'd drawn closer as he'd bent to place down his card, and he hadn't pulled back yet; his head was still mostly tilted downwards, but his eyes were glanced up, questioningly. Had that satisfied her?

 

[LeaT]

Charles' open signs of embarrassment merely egged the Slytherin on in persecuting him further. Like the wiggling of a mouse that only fascinates the cat further. It was a comparison she would consider flattering and objectively true given the nature of their relationship so far. To say she was much more powerful than he was strictly true however, it was more a question of confidence than competence, but she would hardly be the one to point that out to him, at least not yet. They may have displayed different loyalties in the DADA exercise, but it wasn't lost on her that he was one of the few that was willing to stand up against one of the teachers. It might not say much about his intelligence but he had heart down beneath all that insecurity.

But it was his insecurity that interested her the most. She was hardly an alpha among her own house, but she craved the power that others so readily displayed often upon her. She wasn't from a wealthy, famous, or especially powerful blood line, those things that counted as currency among the Slytherin families. But here was a boy that was actually intimidated by her, as much sexually as magically.

She gave a Cheshire smile as he finally relented and drew a card, looking with anticipation as to what it would be and how they might interpret it. She was quite pleased with herself at the moment, she would never admit how much effort she had put into tracking him down for just such an interaction. It was almost as if she were infatuated with him, a realization that would be humiliating in the social politics of the Slytherin dungeon.

She of course noticed the shift in his gaze and it made her grin all the more, she wasn't fully certain he even fancied girls in the first place. Not that it would turn her off completely, indeed it just might make her game more challenging. She didn't taunt him for his peek but her eyes communicated that she noticed. His furrowed brow gave a hint of a challenge building within him but that would be suicidal with her holding both their wands, but still she found it delightfully promising.

She saw his smile before she looked to see his card. The way he held it made for a much more promising prophesy that of a supplicant kneeling before their master. She giggled at his interpretation leading back to homework. "Perhaps, but maybe it is your need for a more learned advisor, a Mistress even?" She raised one eyebrow as she looked at him questioningly, eager to see if he might accept or defy her interpretation. "And that there is more to learn from cards than the future."

She sat up and shifted slightly, making room for him to join her if he chose to sit back down in the alcove rather than try to flee. He was still leaning close, his necktie dangling slightly. She pulled slowly but firmly on the cloth that encircled his neck and pulled him down even as she leaned in until their lips touched. She pressed her warm lips against his parting hers enough to suck on his lower lip before easing up on him. "Sit down." She said in a demanding voice. "You have much to learn." And in a slight peace offering she separated the two wands, one in each hand now, and with deft fingers twirled it so the handle of his faced him. "Like not letting others take your wand." She looked levelly at him as she held it for him to take back.

 

[Silverbird]

A mistress? That was an interpretation that definitely hadn’t crossed Charles’ mind! The young man stiffened and drew back slightly at the suggestion, answering her raised eyebrow with a look of surprise and two raised eyebrows of his own. His mind was racing as he tried to figure out her game. Was she just toying with him some more? Trying to embarrass him further?

He opened his mouth to stammer out a reply, “I-I mean, t-the card also symbolizes collaborati…” — but before he could finish the thought, the Slytherin girl’s hand closed around his tie, and Charles found himself tugged firmly forward into a kiss.

The girl’s breath mingled, warm, with his own, and the gentle, insistent pressure of her lips around his sent a thrill through the young wizard that drove all thought from his mind. Charles didn’t return the kiss, exactly, but he didn’t withdraw, either; if anything he leaned in closer, just a little, in the moment before she pulled back. In the wake of her absence he stood dumbfounded, meeting her gaze in amazement, lips parted and moving slightly as if he was struggling to remember how to speak. In that state, he could hardly resist her command; when she demanded he sit, he reacted without conscious thought, sinking almost heavily into the alcove beside her. It took a few moments for his brain to start working again; it was only really when she held out his wand that Charles came back to himself.

The young Ravenclaw took back possession of his wand almost gingerly, closing his hand about the handle hesitantly. He met the girl’s gaze as he did so, searching her eyes in a way that suggested he was looking for signs of a trap before inclining his head slightly in a gesture of gratitude. Once it was in hand, he didn’t put the wand away immediately, but held it, nervously, against his thigh. “I, um…” he started to speak, but after a moment he broke off awkwardly and glanced downwards, realizing he wasn’t sure what he was trying to say. His free hand lifted unconsciously towards his lips, still wet and warm from her kiss, but he caught himself before it got there and closed his fingers into a nervous ball instead.

“You’re… not wrong about me,” he started again, hesitantly. His free hand dropped into his lap and he glanced downward, at his stray parchment on the floor. Sitting close again, he could feel this girl’s warmth through his arm. It made his heart beat faster, and his words tumble out more quickly. “About my having a lot I need to learn, I mean. I don’t…. I didn’t grow up around magic, unlike you, I guess. There’s a lot I still don’t know, or that I don’t really get, and a lot of things that just…”

He shrugged helplessly, shoulder brushing against her arm, then glanced cautiously back up to her. He wasn’t really sure why he was telling her this; part of him was still suspicious he was being set up for something, and despite his confusing whirl of emotions most of him was still frightened of her intentions. Still, he felt he should say something. For a moment there was a look of unguarded vulnerability on his face. He found his eyes tracing her features, and for a moment he smiled another little smile before looking away. His eyes fell on the cards they’d drawn, the Lovers and the Three of Pentacles.

“That’s one of the reasons I like Divination, actually. The idea of having some certainty, some warning of what’s happening or what’s to come… you’re right. There’s a lot the cards can tell us.”

He fell silent for a moment, considering the cards. Just at the edge of his vision, he could see their legs pressed close beside each other; the girl’s bare knee and the exposed stretch of her thigh just inches from his hand and wand. The young wizard cleared his throat audibly, then looked back up and nodded towards the deck with the side of his head.

“It’s, uh… it’s your turn to draw.”

 

[LeaT]

After the kiss, Liz's smile still had a wickedness to it, but her eyes softened a little, her demeanor becoming more conspiratorial. As if she were ready to let him in on the fun and not just be a target for her private amusement. She noted his nonverbal reaction to her Mistress interpretation of his card. "Do you really think Professor Sumner could bring herself to explain ALL the potential interpretations. She blushes every time the lovers are even drawn from the deck!" Truth be known, Liz wasn't a talented reader of cards but neither was she completely wrong about the professor either, her interpretations tended to avoid the idea that witches and wizards had sex lives that often drove their motivations and destinies.

Their kiss reminded her of just how much Charles had to learn about a great many things, but that only meant he was soft clay ready to be molded into something more of her liking. She thoroughly enjoyed how the smallest of intimacies practically reset his mind as if she had cast Evanesco upon his brain and any previous thoughts or ideas. She loved the way he stammered at her presence, she enjoyed that sort of power, it made her feel sexy and she liked that, a lot.

He was so obviously vulnerable that it came as something of a surprise to her when he spoke his insecurities out loud. She noticed him touching her more, incidentally or so it seemed but she doubted it was coincidence. "You didn't seem that afraid in that fiasco of a DADA session." She said as if trying to bolster his confidence. The reality, at least as she saw it was that most of the boys thought they were better at magic than they really were. Charles was likely every bit as competent, he just didn't have the confidence to back it up.

Again he paused, unsure of even his own feelings, or perhaps the wisdom of sharing them. But she could sense the ice was about to break between them and she didn't want to stop that from happening, even if her motives weren't exactly pure. She enjoyed the way his eyes traced her features, she wanted to think he desired her, but he was just too insecure to express it.

"I dreaded divination to be honest. I get too caught up in what I want to happen and not what is really there. I don't like being disappointed." She said, for brief moment perhaps sharing some of her own vulnerability. But she did as he asked, reaching out to draw a card of her own again. "Wheel of Fortune!" She said as if it explained everything she might possibly have to tell him.

 

[Silverbird]

Liz’s assessment wasn’t wrong. Charles did desire her — or, at least, a part of him certainly did. A young, loud, hormonal part that he didn’t fully understand. He couldn’t shake the sensation of their kiss, any more than he could forget the feeling when they’d been pressed up against each other the other night. He was keenly aware of her heat and her scent, and the little touches that they shared each time one of them moved. He couldn’t help but steal little, sidelong glances at her as he spoke. It was a sensation rather like playing with fire. This girl was dangerous, he knew it, but he couldn’t help but feel drawn to her all the same.

When she offered kind words about the DADA lesson, however, he could only give another slight shrug in return. He’d never really been that good at receiving praise. “That was different,” he muttered, noncommittally. How could he explain? It wasn’t that he was normally afraid, exactly. It was more like when you have a dream where something strange is happening, but everyone around you seems to think it is perfectly normal, and after a while you begin to think that maybe it is normal, and you’re the problem. He doubted that she’d understand it.

The thought might have caused the young man to withdraw internally again. He was aware that he’d already revealed a little too much of himself, and he neither wanted to make a fool of himself in front of her, nor to give her further ammunition with which to torment him. He fell silent for a moment — and then, to his surprise, she filled the silence with a vulnerability of her own. He looked to her in astonishment, his head tilted slightly, as she shared her problems with divination. It felt like something had just turned in their relationship. He wasn’t quite sure what to say in response, but there was something new in his gaze as he considered her with new eyes; a compassionate warmth that had previously been hidden behind vulnerability and fear. The moment hung between them in silence…

… until it was broken, as Liz drew her next card. The Wheel of Fortune. Charles’ wry smile returned.

“An abrupt change in fate, or circumstance,” he said, possibly reciting something from the textbook he’d dropped. He reached across to lay a finger on the card, tracing the arc of the wheel. “Or a reminder that things move in cycles. The top eventually turns to the bottom, and vice-versa…”

His eyes fell to other cards again. The Lovers, Three of Pentacles, and the Wheel of Fortune. It felt like there was a message there; an interpretation he was beginning to see the edges of. Maybe something he was trying to avoid seeing. The thought reminded him of something else — maybe something he’d read or something he’d heard in class, he couldn’t quite remember which.

“Sometimes, seeing something — in the cards, or the tea leaves, or wherever — is enough to make it true,” he said softly. He looked to the older girl again, and his mouth felt suddenly dry; his voice, huskier. “So… what do you want it to mean?”

 

[LeaT]

Charles seemed quite the cute little puppy dog in her presence. She had been very much wanting a pet instead of being one as was more the case within her own house. But this boy, she felt so much more mature around him, was ready to eat right out of her hand. He was skittish, she could tell she would need to be careful with him, gentle even but she was determined to make him her own. Her affection was genuine, though it would be on her terms. She offered touches and glimpses like dog treats, training her new puppy by rewarding his obedience, but ultimately she would need to build his trust in her.

As he demurred at her praise, obviously unaccustomed to such adoration as modest as it was, she turned to him and challenged his insecurity. "How so?" She asked, as if daring him to prove his point. But her next card seemed to do more to bolster him than her challenge. He was a more astute student than she, reciting as if reading from the textbook just what her card might mean. She was about to call him on his rote statement as simple recitation, simply parroting what he had been taught, what they all had been taught. But then he showed more insight that she would have expected from him. Turning the tables on her at least temporarily as if it had been his fate with that card.

"Do you think so?" She asked, for perhaps the first time treating him as if he were a peer and not someone to toy with for her amusement. Was it what she wanted to believe? She wasn't sure she knew the answer to that question herself. But then he laid it all out for her, was it a challenge of his own. Did she dare tell him what it was she wanted to see in those cards?

She thought for a moment, she wasn't unaccustomed to feeling vulnerable, her position towards the bottom of the Slytherin social structure made it a familiar feeling. But rarely had she been so tempted to be honest about that vulnerability. Was her puppy a wolf in disguise? Could he turn the tables upon her? Did she want him to?

She raised her left hand and cupped the side of his face with it. "Can I trust you?" She asked, he was so different than any other boy she had ever had an interest in. "I'm not sure you should trust me." She said, her eyes lowering for a moment. "Ravenclaw is so different than my house." She said, sounding regretful for a moment.

She took a deep breath, her hint of cleavage swelling under his eyes just before she exhaled. "I want it to mean we can help each other." Her hand left his face to land lightly upon his chest, trailing slowly downward. It came to rest on his thigh, very close to his member. "Would you like that?"

 

[Silverbird]

“How so?”

The Slytherin girl’s challenge drew an irritated shake of Charles’ head and a resigned sigh from his lips. He’d hoped to avoid talking about it any further, but she wasn’t going to let it go, was she? That didn’t leave him with many options. He’d just have to figure out a way to explain himself.

It took him a moment to find the words. When he did speak, they came out reluctantly — and he didn’t turn or look up to meet Liz’s judging gaze.

“That lesson… it was weird for everyone. I mean, nobody else really knew what to expect, either, and everyone was kind of outclassed by the professors anyway, so… I dunno. It was easy. I didn’t really have time to think about it.”

He shrugged again. Non-committal.


When the girl answered his question a short time later, on the other hand, Charles’ eyes were back on her. He wasn’t sure what had compelled him to say those words, but for a moment he feared the answer. His breath caught for a moment as he saw her hesitate, and her demeanor shift. A beam of golden light from the setting sun slipped in through the glass window, to be swallowed up by her dark hair. Something had changed, he could feel it — but what exactly was he seeing? Gentle blue eyes watched her cautiously — and then widened as she reached out to tenderly touch his face.

Could she trust him?

The question should have seemed almost funny. Surely he should be asking that of her? Even she seemed to think so! Still, in the moment Charles didn’t find it funny at all. Her vulnerability was genuine; he thought he’d glimpsed it for a moment before, before for this second he was sure, and his heart stirred in response. With her soft touch upon his cheek all he could do was offer a small nod, his head shifting under her hand, not trusting himself to find the words. Then her hand slipped lower, from cheek to chest to thigh, tracing a trail that tingled, electric, in its wake. He inhaled softly. In that moment, he might have agreed to anything she asked. He even started to nod, lips parting to offer agreement…

…but then his thoughts intruded. His own hand moved to close gently around hers in his lap, and his nod slowly turned to a soft shake of the head.

“I would,” he admitted, “but…”

He glanced down, to their crossed hands, unable to meet her gaze. “I can’t help you.” His voice grew softer, a bitterness creeping in as he spoke. “I mean, I don’t even know your name, but… you’re a Slytherin, and a seventh-year, and you probably know more about magic and all this” — he gestured broadly at the tower stairwell with his wand hand, and at the rest of the castle beyond — “then I’m ever going to learn. I’m no use to someone like you.”

Except as a momentary distraction, a bitter part of his mind said. An entertaining plaything. That was why she’d come up here in the first place, after all, wasn’t it? For a moment, that real vulnerability he’d glimpsed was lost in a dark cloud.

But for all that, he didn’t take his hand off hers, or make any move to remove her hand from his lap. His skin was soft, and his fingers trembled slightly as he spoke.

 

[LeaT]

As Charles searched for words, Liz held her tongue and watched his face with genuine curiosity. Her friends in Slytherin would never appear this vulnerable or at a loss for words. More likely to speak quickly and with confidence, real or pretended, than to look indecisive or uncertain. It was, in a way that surprised Liz, rather refreshing. It made her all the more certain that whatever words were to come out of his mouth, she could trust as the truth, or at least the truth as he understood it. It was a connection, a closeness, that she had never realized was missing in her life. She wanted to trust him, but it didn't come natural to her.

She actually smiled when he admitted he would like to trust her. It brightened her face, almost making her seem like another person than the dour face she usually had when out in public. It dimmed slightly as he confessed his self perceived inadequacies about all things magical.

"I don't want to use you Charles." She told him, using his name deliberately even as he confessed to not knowing hers. "And you have no idea what I need." It was a light scolding, intended to caution him about making assumptions about her motivations, at least when it came to him. But it wasn't meant to end their conversation, but more to draw it out. After all, she didn't really need his help with magic, but she could probably help him with the arcane arts, she wasn't the best of students but she had grown up with magic.

So there they sat, her hand on his thigh, his hand covering it. She could feel his trembling, the Slytherin in her made her want to mock him for it, to use it against him. But what she really needed from him was someone to trust and to in turn trust her. She used her free hand to grip his wrist and pull his hand from hers. "Maybe, you should do like you did in the Dark Arts lesson, and not think." As she said those words she guided his hand up towards her breast, encouraging him to touch her intimately. At the same time, her hand on his thigh moved upward, her thumb gliding along his member in a single stroke along his length before she began to caress him with all her fingers.

Her eyes captured his as their respective hands found their marks. "You should probably kiss me now." She said, hoping that he wouldn't just run away from her instead. She felt a real fear of rejection as her heart pounded within her breast.

 

[Silverbird]

She was right. He didn’t know what she needed. The girl’s gentle rebuke startled Charles out of his moody thoughts. The Ravenclaw looked guiltily back at her, an apology already rising reflexively to his lips — but the words died softly, unspoken, at the look on her face. She still wore a smile, dimmed slightly but still present, but it shared with it a sadness, a disappointment at the words he’d said. She didn’t want an apology. For a moment the boy fumbled, looking for something more he could say —

— and then she took matters into her own hands. Charles didn’t resist as the girl lifted his hand from hers, but his eyes widened as he realized its destination. His hand pressed lightly against her chest, fingers gently enveloping her soft curve, as he felt her other hand make its way up his length.

“Don’t think,” she encouraged him. In that moment, he would have struggled to do so if he’d tried. He could feel the outline of her bra beneath his palm; could feel a heart beating in his hand, and couldn’t tell if it was his or hers. His body responded quickly to her touch, growing hard beneath the passage of her fingers as it had when they’d been forced together the night before.

He was tired of questioning himself, of doubt.

For a moment their eyes met, and the Slytherin opened her mouth to suggest he kiss her, but before she could even finish getting the words out the Ravenclaw was moving towards her, pressing his lips to hers with an urgent, hungry need. He wasn’t an experienced kisser, but this time he was an active, passionate participant, his lips desperately seeking the taste of hers in a display of unbridled desire. His touch grew bolder as he lost himself in the heat of her breath, his fingers gripping more tightly as he began to squeeze and explore her chest, futilely trying to push down the bra beneath her clothes. His hips twitched slightly as her fingers continued their caresses, almost as though to push himself more fully into her grip, and a soft groan escaped the back of his throat.

His wand slipped from the fingers of his free hand, to clatter, unnoticed by the young wizard, against the stonework of the tower staircase just beside their alcove.

 

[LeaT]

Her fear of rejection ebbed as she felt his cock respond to her touch and his hand begin to explore her mound even if it was over blouse and bra. She closed her eyes as he kissed her, finally and she eagerly responded. What he might have lacked in experience he made up for in urgency as he kissed her with a hunger that soothed her anxiety about him. His passion was genuine and she did her best to match it as her tongue wrestled with his. She moaned with pleasure as his hand became more insistent, her nipples hardening enough for him to notice the difference even through her bra and blouse. She didn't have the largest breasts by any means, but they were firm and they were offered to him freely to explore in a way he had likely never done before.

She heard the clatter of the dropped wand, instinctively using her free hand to ensure she still had her own wand, a lesson that had not been thoroughly ingrained into the muggle raised student. That was a lesson for another day, surely he would need to learn to protect himself magically, but this was a more urgent lesson. She felt him try to pull down her bra and she slowly extracted her tongue from his mouth and pulled back. "Go under." She said breathlessly the pulled his hand down with one hand as she untucked her blouse with the other. She guided him to reach up under her blouse. As for her bra, well maybe she could teach two lessons at once. "Now pick up your wand, it isn't wise to let it fall like you did." She was gentle in her lecture, still a bit breathless from their new found intimacy.

"Now tap your wand on the center of my back, just below my shoulder blades." She told him as she leaned in close and whispered into his ear. "You know the spell...Alohomora." She said the sucked on his earlobe for a moment, playfully making it more difficult for him to concentrate for the simple spell.