The Oddest of Couples

Standing by the half-open window, hazy morning sunlight just starting to creep through the pane, the black-haired youth gazed out onto the lawn of the house, one hand in the pocket of his jeans, the other holding a mug of tea.

The house was silent, the ticking of the clock on the wall almost deafening in the peace, the occasional drip from the tap in the kitchen making a curious little `plop´ every sixteen seconds, on the dot.

He liked it this way, knowing that there was no threat lingering on the cosy horizon.

In recent days, the Dark One had been coming closer, killing and maiming as a mode of entertainment on his violent quest which presently seemed almost irrelevant to the youth who was, now, watching a cat stalking around the garden.

Sipping some of the lukewarm tea in his mug, he exhaled a breath which misted the window, briefly obscuring the transparent reflection on the pane.

He had woken early again. It had become regular. This morning, it was almost as soon as the dawn light filtered through the chink in the curtain, tracing a pale, cool line across his face.

Even if he had wanted to sleep more, the sounds of birds trilling outside seemed so much louder than they did when he woke. It was always the same way - wake up in absolute peace, then the small sounds filter in, still soft, but enough to distract you from sleeping again.

So, creeping out of the room as quietly as he could, he had descended the stairs and wandered into the kitchen, making himself a cup of tea and helping himself to a slice of bread and jam.

It had been nice, kind of comfortable, to just sit for a little while and contemplate the meaning of life and ponder why, even when the raspberry jam is seedless, you can always gets one seed stuck between your teeth.

Now, half an hour on, his mug was still half-full of tea that had grown cold, as he stood and looked out on the world, the misty wash over everything slowly melting away as the daylight slunk in.

Taking another sip of the cooling tea, he heard the creak of a floorboard behind him and smiled slightly as a freckled pair of hands came to rest on his hips, then slid down around his waist.

"I didn´t hear you get up," a voice murmured against his neck. "You should have woken me."

"I didn´t want to disturb you," he replied quietly, his eyes closing in pleasure as a kiss was pressed against his bare neck. "And it would have looked a bit suspicious if I just walked into your room..." His breath caught in his throat as a nip was placed just below his jawline. "The others might have wondered."

He felt, rather than saw the smile on his lover´s face. "I´m sure we could have come up with a believable excuse."

Placing his mug down on the window-ledge, he nodded, turning around in those warm, familiar arms. "I don´t doubt it," he said, gazing down into bright eyes that were always alight with life and energy.

"Do I get a morning kiss?"

"Always," he answered, bending and touching his mouth to hers. Even though he knew she belonged to someone else, it didn´t sour the kiss. If anything, it only served to make it sweeter, as his hands stroked through her unruly hair.

They drew apart several moments later, breathless, one of his hands cupping her flushed face, his fingertips toying with the curly strands that were normally tucked behind her ears.

"You´re amazing," he said softly, gazing at her from beneath the long, jet strands of his fringe, with an intensity that made her tremble.

"Me? Not really," she moaned into another kiss, her hands splaying on his chest. The buttons of his shirt rapidly came undone beneath her fingers and she touched his lean, smooth torso.

Rising over his ribs, her hands lingered there, fingertips leaving tiny indentations as his chest expanded and deflated with every breath, her eyes remaining on his face as they broke out of the kiss.

Her hands were always so warm and soft against his skin, the skin so pale, but for the freckles dashed here and there on it. One of her most adorable features was the very light smattering of freckles speckling her dainty nose.

So many times, he had just loved to drop a kiss on the end of that little button of a nose, receiving a giggle and a swat for his efforts.

"You know we shouldn´t do this here," he finally said, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "What if we get caught?"

She shrugged. "I´m willing to risk it," she answered, rising on her toes and claiming his mouth again. Her hands slid up his bared chest, one wrapping around the back of his neck and holding him to her.

His own hands seemed to have taken on a mind of their own, running down her back and cradling her bottom, massaging the soft swells. Her hips pressed up against him and he smothered a soft groan.

"We shouldn´t..." he repeated, more for his own benefit.

Dark eyes gazed it him for a long moment. "We´re alone," she finally said, drawing back and taking his hands in hers. "If anyone else gets up, we´ll hear them long before they get down the stairs."

She lead him towards the sofa, hidden from the staircase by the living room wall, pushing him down onto the seat. The button and zip of his trousers were undone and his lover straddled his thighs, her nightdress pulled up.

His head rocked back on the back of the sofa as she sank down and their bodies joined, a low groan of pleasure escaping him. "I can´t believe I could do this..."

"What?" she asked huskily, moving against him. "This?"

His eyes opened, vivid in their colour, which had deepened with passion. "No... yes... I mean, he´s my best mate... if he found out I was doing this with you... you know how much he cares about you... he´ll kill me if he finds out..."

"Then," she breathed, sliding her hands through his dark hair. "We´ll just have to make sure that he doesn´t find out..." Her mouth claimed his with the fire and energy he had always loved in her.

Their affair had come of an accident a few months earlier, when he had been visiting them, his best friend and her. A nasty knock on the head had left him out of it for a few days and she had nursed him, then, he had playfully pecked her on the cheek to thank her.

She had gazed at him for a moment, then she had returned the kiss, only her mouth pressed against his, hot, wet and sweet, opening and letting her tongue dart against his tightly closed lips.

She had fled in embarrassment almost immediately.

However, she had come back later that day to check on him and that time, he had been the one to initiate the kiss, his hand in her beautiful red hair, his mouth on hers, his tongue probing her lips greedily.

And it had progressed from there.

Hesitant kisses became cautious embraces and tentative touches when they were sure no one would notice, then those tentative touches became caresses and gradually, they became something more.

Now, they took whatever chances they could to be together, their private moments growing rarer and rarer, though no less passionate with the passage of time.

Her first partner knew nothing of the affair, for which the black-haired young man was grateful. He didn´t want to be the one to ruin the relationship between the couple and yet, he knew that he would never be able to give up his lover.

Especially not their love-making.

There was something oddly exciting about making love in a place where they knew they could get caught. It was almost like electricity in the air, as their mouths duelled and they moved against one another.

Both of them froze at a creaking from the level above them and they heard footfalls on the floor of the bedroom above them.

Claiming a hard, brief kiss, she drew herself away from his body, hastily smoothing down her nightshirt and fastening her dressing gown around herself. "Tidy yourself up a bit," she suggested softly, then hurried through into the kitchen.

Muttering something about blue balls and future problems he was sure he would have, he straightened himself out and fastened the buttons of his shirt up as he made his way through to the kitchen, where his lover was at the cooker, frying bacon.

Sitting down at the table, he gave her a half-smile, both of them looking around as they heard footsteps on the stairs.

Pausing on the landing halfway down, Ron Weasley grinned at them. "Morning, mum," he said cheerfully. "Morning Harry."