The Oddest of Couples

Edging out of the doors of the castle, gripping the front of her robes tightly closed in front of her chest, she glanced around warily, hoping that she would be able to make it to the meeting spot, unseen.

After all, it was nearly midnight and not the best time to be sneaking around the school, let alone running out onto the grounds, and it had taken all her resourcefulness to avoid detection by the caretaker, Filch.

She didn´t want to be caught, didn´t want her liaison with her fantasy lover to become public knowledge, lest it didn´t quite go as planned.

Pulling her hood of her dark, winter robes up to conceal her head, to hide her distinctive shock of hair, she slipped from the shadows of the high-arched doorway and into the stretching silver pools of moonlight on the steps and lawn.

The soft whistle of the wind through the dark, twisted trees of the Forbidden Forest made the hairs on her arms rise nervously, the sound eerie and unnatural.

High above her, the moon was barely a glowing crescent, streaks of purple-silver cloud trailing across the sky, occasionally obscuring the bright lunar grin and the smattering of stars.

It had been raining earlier and she was grateful that it had stopped. The grounds looked like they had been freshly washed, the clean, damp scent of earth and nature mixing with the powerful magical scent of Hogwarts.

Gripping the front of her robes even more tightly, the clasp at her throat biting into her flesh, she ran rapidly down the staircase and onto the grass which was still wet and cool beneath her feet.

She had to be mad, she knew.

Even if he came to the spot she had designated in the letter she had pushed into his bag in passing, she would have to get past his attitude problem to convince him that she was worth having even a casual fling with.

Although, if his attitude changed, it would ruin the fun of having a fling with him.

She had secretly watched him from a distance for what seemed like forever, his looks and the way he held himself catching her eye at first, the way he spoke to people, his superior tone about everything becoming more of a turn-on than a turn-off.

Reaching the Quidditch stands, she ducked into the shadows, pressing against the canvas-covered sides, catching her breath from the long run across the lawn, her breath escaping in little clouds of misty condensation.

Hopefully, he would come, especially since she had chosen this place of everywhere in the school as their meeting point.

Perhaps he would assume that she wanted Quidditch training from him, since he was so good at it - as he would proudly tell anyone who would listen. If it meant he came to her, she would take that training as well.

The thought of him on a broom...

A grin broke onto her lips and she glanced up towards the school, watching for the tell-tale silhouette of another figure slipping out of the school and running across the silvered lawn to the stadium.

"You really are desperate," she muttered to herself with a weak grin as her eyes fixed on a furtive individual appearing out of one of the side doors of the castle and starting down the vast expanse of the lawn.

Her eyes hawk-like on her distant prey, she edged towards the curve of the shadows, watching him hurry downwards.

His head was uncovered, so there was no mistaking that it was him, the moonlight shining on his blond hair. He also seemed to be being as cautious as she had, eyes darting around as he broke into a run, determined to make sure that he wasn´t seen.

Edging around one of the boxes as he neared, she stepped out of the shadows and in what she hoped sounded like a sexy voice - she didn´t have much experience - said, "I hoped you would come."

He stopped short, startled, then appeared to relax. "Oh, it´s you," he said, his tone one of irritation, his arms crossing over his chest. "I thought it was someone else."

She knew she was hardly likely to be the only person in the whole school hitting on the bloke.

He might have had a serious attitude problem, but he was still absolutely gorgeous and most of her friends hadn´t disagreed with her when she had commented on it. It was her hopes for landing him as her boyfriend that caused the problem.

She had tried flirting with him before. The term of phrase that one of her friends had muttered to her was a different arrangement of the words: lead balloon went like a down.

"But you´re here now, though," she said, pushing her hood back from her face in what was hopefully a glamorous, seductive gesture. He scowled at her, but she ignored his expression. "And I thought that we might as well spend a little time... getting to know one another."

"Flattered as I am," he retorted. "I´m going to have to say no. I said no to you before, repeatedly, and I´ll say it again. You aren´t my type."

"But you don´t mind all of the other girls who like you," she took a step towards him, grasping the front of his robes with small hands. "Why don´t you want to have me around?"

Pale eyes studied her. "You´re right," he said slowly. "But those other girls didn´t try to accost me in the Great Hall, when no one was looking. Also, I´m not interested in getting involved with one person..."

"Because of your jealous pack of girls?"

"Er... sort of. Now, if you don´t mind..."

She grinned at him. "Don´t tell me you don´t like it when a girl takes control."

"Actually, I don´t," he said irritably, pushing her hands off his robes. "Now, if you don´t mind, you´re being very strange and a little frightening and I would rather get back to my..."

Slammed up against the side of the box again, he stared at her, a slightly panicked look in his eyes as she pressed against him. "Are you sure I can´t change your mind?"

"Yes! I´m positive..."

"What´s wrong with me?" she demanded hotly, hands on his chest.

"Um..." He looked her over. "You wear clothes that no normal person would be seen dead in, your hair is one of my worst nightmares come true, you´re bossy, you´re being too forceful, you´ve been stalking me for weeks..."

"It´s... nice that you feel that you can be so honest with me," she said dryly. "But I wouldn´t class what I did as stalking... following you any time I have free time and wolf-whistling at, maybe, but that´s not stalking..."

"Look," He squirmed free from her grip again. "I´ve met lots of people like you before and I have to say that I am absolutely and one-hundred percent not interested, even in a brief fling..."

"You´re very strange..."

"And you are legally sane, I´m sure. Now, get your filthy little hands off me and let me go!"

Reluctantly, she released him. "How about one kiss?" she cajoled, gazing up at him intently. "That´s all...?"

"I´m afraid not."

"Just one?"

"I don´t want to kiss you!" he exclaimed, swatting away her hands when she tried to grab at him again. "Get off! Leave me alone!"

"But it´ll get me off your back!"

"I am not interested in kissing you, or any other woman in this blasted school!"

She stared at him and her mouth rounded in shock. "You´re gay!"

Pale eyes widened in panic. "Um... no, I´m not!" he exclaimed.

"Dear Merlin! You are! That´s why you never get involved with anyone! It´s not because you know you´d be lynched by those homicidal girls that all seem to think they have a chance with you! It´s because you´re gay!"

"Stop saying it!"

"Admit it!"

"No!"

"You are! Look at your robes! Your hair! Everything about you!" She waved a finger imperiously in his direction. "I should have guessed before - you´re far too good-looking to be straight!"

"Well that´s a comfort," he said sourly.

"So it´s true then?"

Turning to face her fully, he scowled at her. "Yes, all right, I´m gay. Happy now?"

"So you´re not not interested in me because you think I´m crazy!"

"Actually, I do think you are crazy, but that´s invalid..." One hand was on his hip, the shadows in his face deepening as he shifted his feet. "Now, if you don´t mind..."

"I´ll make a deal with you," she said sharply, grasping at straws.

"A deal?"

"One kiss and I won´t go to the press."

He studied her. "That simple?"

"Of course."

"I have an easier suggestion," he replied, his voice sinking to a low, husky murmur that made her tingle with delight. "If you would hear it, my dear Madam Hooch..."

She nodded, wide-eyed.

Gilderoy Lockhart raised his wand. "Obliviate!"