The Last of the Mhyrriad

CHAPTER THE SIXTH

A New Beginning

Oliver woke as the first rays of sunshine peeked through the cream silk drapes. The pressure on his chest reminded him of the night before. And that it was a Saturday and he had all the time in the world. The bed sheets had shifted down around his waist over the night, and for the first time, Oliver had full view of what her clothes had revealed in glimpses and hints, but never in full.

Cerise was not a thin woman, but there was a slimness to her flowing curves that would drive men wild. While her shoulders and hips were broad, her waist was minute. Her breasts were full, but not to the point of where she may have been deemed a buxom woman. Her bronze skin stood out from Oliver's pale complexion and underneath that smooth, soft skin, was a hardness of muscle that had no doubt resulted from Quidditch. His hand moved to her cheek and he slid down to kiss her lips softly, tenderly.

"Mm... Ollie?" She opened her eyes slowly and a smile crept onto her face. But not the seductive smirk Oliver had become accustomed to, but a sweet, satisfied grin. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she eased him onto his back and rested her head under his chin.

"Ollie?" he was preoccupied with running his fingers through her thick glossy hair.

"Hmm?"

"One thing you didn't make clear. Why were you avoiding me for the last eon?" He stopped. Raising two fingers, he slowly stroked the side of her chin.

"I think I knew for a while that I loved you, maybe since we met, but I've never been in a real relationship before, or had feelings like this, so I was nervous. But you didn't help, you know, you can be quite intimidating. But... I'm fine now!" Cerise laughed outright at the look on his face. He reminded her of and eager puppy. She stopped mid-giggle at his raised eyebrow. Looking deeply into his chocolate brown eyes, she lowered her lips to his.

Oliver enjoyed this kiss more that the first. Sucking on her lower lip, he successfully opened her mouth and tentatively brought his tongue in. Cerise delighted in his inexperience as he probed her open mouth with his tongue, drew her hand down his chest, past his stomach...

A sharp breath broke their lips. Oliver stared at her, scandalized, but Cerise was already caressing his jawbone with her mouth, moving it down his neck, across his collarbone, down his chest to his nipple and proceeded to gently bite it, releasing a faint moan. Then a half gasped,

"Cerise, what the bloody hell are you trying to do?" Slowly closing her lips, she glanced up impishly and murmured,

"Seducing you." He grinned and roller her over so that he was on top.

"Not if I can help it".

She sat on the side of the bed and watched his well-muscled stomach heave up and down as he gasped for air. Arranging herself into a cross-legged position, she stated with a touch of amusement,

'You're a Virgin." Raising one eyebrow, he propped himself up on an elbow and said in the exact same tone,

"Well, not any more thanks to you."

Fire flickered on the hearth. Cerise lay on the long couch staring into the flames. Flicker, flicker. She and Oliver had rid their "offices" of the separating barriers and desks, moving in Cerise's sofa and armchairs obtained via the House Elves and made the area into a cozy sitting room. Five o' clock. Ollie should be here by now, thought Cerise. He was working too much; taking on teaching with a fervor formerly associated with Quidditch. She tuned into his mind. He was correcting more papers. Again.

Can't you do that here, love?

Cerise! You know, this telepathy thing is unnerving. No, I can't. You'll distract me.

I won't! Promise!

You can't help it, you always distract me.

Well, come back here then. You can correct those... essays tomorrow. You already missed dinner.

I'll see you later.

Oliver, it's eight-thirty. If you think I'm waiting up again until 11, well you're dreaming.

Fine, love, I'm coming.

She broke the connection and smiled to herself. She had him wrapped around her little finger. Then again, she was equally wrapped around his.

Flicker, Flicker.

She sat up. The potion! She nearly forgot. She ran to the gold cauldron and poured half a teaspoon of silvery liquid into the swirling magenta mixture. Absentmindedly, she dropped a Roc's egg into the concoction, causing it to splash her stomach.

"Fuck." It had burned a hold through her sweater, which spread as the fibers disintegrated. She ripped it off and threw it into the fireplace. A large purple sore blistered above her navel. She touched it and it receded into a round scar. Crossing the room to her wardrobe, she found all her sweaters gone. Why had she sent out her wash today? Oh well, she'd have to borrow one of Oliver's. She lifted the Unicorn tapestry, her secret path to his room. Selecting her favorite dark gray mock turtleneck sweater, she pulled it over her head, rolled up the sleeves, and strode back to the sofa. Right before she sat down, a decidedly weary Oliver staggered into the room.

"Hello, gorgeous". She sauntered up to him, twined her arms around his neck.

" Like my sweater?" She whispered in his ear as she bit it affectionately.

"Careful, you left a scar on my shoulder last week."

"Oops, sorry." She led him to the couch and lay him down, placing his head in her lap. Massaging his temples, she murmured,

"You work too hard." He sighed, placing his hand on her knee.

"You worry too much." Expecting a lecture on how he'd wear himself out, how he was going through too much anti-stress ointment, he was surprised by a moment's silence.

"I know something you don't know." He abruptly turned his head.

"What?"

"I don't know if I want to tell." At an imploring look, she relented.

"Oh, all right. You're taking me to the Yule Ball."

"There is no Yule Ball. No Triwizard Tournament".

"Back by er... shall I say, popular demand. There were dress robes on that list for a reason."

"Well, I didn't get a list. Plus, all my dress robes are at home." She kissed his forehead.

"Good thing there's a Hogsmeade weekend tomorrow. And, I believe someone has a birthday coming up." As she lightly drew her fingers in circles over his temples, she noticed his eyelids beginning to droop. If he kept this up, he would exhaust himself. Oh, wait, he already had.

"C'mon, Bed. You need it badly." His eyebrows shot up.

"Honestly, Cerise, I doubt that's going to improve my state of wellness." She slapped his cheek playfully.

"Oh, you know what I mean. None of that tonight." His eyes sparkling wickedly, he said,

"Well, that's a first. Are you sure you'll be alright?"

"It's a good thing you're cute, you know. Bed. Now".