The Oddest of Couples

It wasn´t a likely meeting spot.

But then, for this particular couple, no spot was really likely.

However, on this particular occasion, the library had been selected, fairly late in the evening, when it was unlikely that anyone but them would be there.

Unfortunately, there always had to be a few odd people here and there in the massive library: a few Ravenclaws were moving around the shelves, in pairs, which was their kind of romance.

However, the Slytherin and Gryffindor couple involved in an affair didn´t class their relationship as normal, even if it was classed as that by Ravenclaw standards.

They had a secluded corner, somewhere that they would be unnoticed by pupils and teachers, hidden by the shelves and books, somewhere that the librarian, Madam Pince, would ignore, hardly expecting anything out of the ordinary to happen.

How wrong she was.

As they had waited for the library to clear, they had feigned interest in their books, eyes on the pages, although both were more than aware of their partner on the other side of the broad table.

Lanterns added a soft, buttery glow to the immense room, the scent of dust, magic and ancient parchments a strangely potent aphrodisiac.

A pen scratched quietly on a sheet, which was slipped across the table, neither of them even raising their eyes as the words were passed from hand to hand.

This was how it had begun, in a class, when they knew that no one was looking. One of them had casually dropped a note on the other´s desk in Potions, while walking past, requesting a meeting, so they could sort out their... `problems´ with one another.

When the Slytherin - the other a fairly famous Gryffindor - had arrived, he had not expected to be swept up in an intense relationship that had been ongoing for several weeks now.

Yes, insults had been exchanged that first night, but the first kiss that had been shared between them...

He had not expected it, caught completely off-guard when the strangely-fragile-looking Gryffindor had pressed against him and kissed him in a way that he had never been kissed before.

Tongues had met and battled, the room they were in rising in temperature until it felt like they had been plunged into the bowels of hell, but they were quite happy to wallow there, as long as the kiss never ended.

That was the first of many.

Wrong, yes.

Everything his father would despise incarnate, yes.

The most delicious thing he had ever done, without a doubt.

Brief fumblings and greedy kisses behind paintings, in deserted classrooms and anywhere possible had become a staple aspect of their...unusual relationship, while - by the light of day - they feigned loathing for one another.

The note was what had started it.

Passing notes had become a regular occurrence, as had their meetings.

Their eyes lifted, met briefly, as an ink-smudged hand picked up the note. Opening the note slowly, dark brown eyes slowly slid down the words there, a small suggestion of a naughty smile reaching normally serious lips.

"In a library?" The whisper was barely even audible. "For shame!"

The smirk on the Seeker´s lips, across the table, was purely wicked. It had the effect of making his lover feel that clothing was definitely not a necessity at present, which had the effect of causing a deep flush of pleasure and embarrassment.

Further down the library, a couple of Ravenclaws departed, loaded down with large quantities of books, leaving the couple alone, at their table in one of the far corners of the library, hidden by the shelf units.

The Seeker rose, rounded the table and - true to his name - sought out his lover´s eagerly waiting lips. His slender, skilful hands slid into almost curly dark hair as their mouths came together.

Fingers that had closed around a chilly snitch on more occasions than his lover could count twisted through tendrils of brown hair as their lips parted and their tongues met in an intimate dance.

In the quiet of the library, their muffled breathing sounded deafening. The only reason they knew they would not be heard was the howling wind whistling past the windows, the winter chill doing nothing to calm their ardour.

The occupied chair was pushed back from the table forcefully.

It connected with the edge of the bookshelf behind them with a crack, both of them pulling back from one another and glancing rapidly down the library to check the whereabouts of the librarian.

She seemed oblivious to their presence, sorting through a large stack of books.

"Maybe," the Slytherin suggested, a wicked glimmer in his eyes, "we should use the table. It doesn´t move as easily as the chair."

The Gryffindor looked along at the large, solid, oak table, then at the equally solid chair, grinning a little. "Are you sure? You are...kind of enthusiastic, you know."

"Bugger the furniture, in that case," the Slytherin said, standing up and pulling the Gryffindor closer to him. Their mouths met again, nimble hands tangling through thick, brown hair, the edge of the table bumping against their legs.

The kisses grew rapidly more heated, hands sliding under robes and fumbling with buttons. Questing fingers came in contact with warm skin and they broke apart again, panting and flushed.

"You know Pince´ll kill us if she catches us." Leaning sideways, brown eyes darted anxiously around the broad edge of the shelf unit, but Pince was still busy with her stack of books.

"Then we´ll have to make sure she doesn´t catch us, won´t we?" the reply came, warm lips meeting again.

"Obviously..." There was a pause between kisses as ink-stained fingertips lingered on the Seeker´s narrow, pale-skinned chest. "I remember when you were...in me the first time..."

The Seeker studied his lover. "You do?"

"You thought I wouldn´t remember?" Eyebrows rose over brown eyes. "It is my body, you know. I do know when someone is doing something to and with it...and since it was you...well, it was hardly going to be forgettable, was it?"

There was a chuckle. "I suppose so," he replied, lifting his hands to lift his lover´s face and claim the familiar lips in another kiss, both of them leaning back on the edge of the table.

A clatter from behind the Slytherin made them both jump in surprise.

A pile of books had been jolted when they had bumped into the table and slowly slid down, only to fall with a deafening series of bangs as they bounced from tabletop to chair, then onto the floor.

"Crap!" the Slytherin groaned, both of them quickly kneeling to gather up the books, the approaching footsteps suggesting that the librarian was no longer insensible to their presences.

"I suppose that makes it a night?" the Gryffindor raised eyebrows.

The Slytherin nodded with a sigh. "Looks that way, doesn´t it?" he murmured.

As Madam Pince came around the edge of the shelves, giving them a cursory look, she crossed her arms over her chest. "I thought you boys would know that the library is a place of quiet," she said.

"He pushed my books over," the Gryffindor said, giving the Slytherin what could be interpreted as a dark look to the casual observer, but brilliant eyes twinkled at the Slytherin, who hastily smothered a grin.

Pince tutted, shaking her head. "If you can´t work properly together, I would suggest that you sit in different parts of the library," she said severely. "We can´t have you disrupting other students."

"Of course, Madam Pince," the Gryffindor said sincerely, stuffing books and pieces of parchment into a satchel. "I really should be going now."

"Both of you should," Madam Pince said. "It´s almost curfew and the library closes in a few moments."

Nodding, the Slytherin gathered up all his own books, parchment and quills, stuffing them into his bag and stomping towards the door without a backwards look.

However, seconds later, when the Gryffindor emerged from the library, the Slytherin boy was still waiting for his partner, grinning as the young Gryffindor emerged, after sincerely thanking the librarian.

"You´re too good at wrapping people around your finger," the Slytherin said dryly.

The Gryffindor gave him an innocent look. "Being famous does have the advantage, especially when everyone thinks that you must be well-behaved and a goody-goody boy all the time."

"How wrong can they be?" the other boy smirked.

Harry Potter shrugged expressively, eyes twinkling. "I´m behaving," he replied. "I just didn´t say I was going to behave well, though." Stepping closer to his lover, the Gryffindor Seeker rose on his toes and pressed a brief kiss to his partner´s lips. "Same time next week, Greg?"

"Wouldn´t miss it," Gregory Goyle answered, giving Harry a brush of a kiss and suggestion of a grin. "I need to work on a new excuse though."

"Just tell them you´re pestering the famous Harry Potter," Harry said, smirking. "I´m sure Malfoy won´t object."