welp.
I dithered about posting this, I did, because it felt weird posting smut in this story and I'm not sure why. People sure have a lot of sex in it, and there is smut in The Casefic That Never Ends, and I hear people have written Harry Potter porn once or twice before on the Internet.
Anyway, I wrote it as a present for my buddy soda_and_capes and he loved it and thought there was enough character development mixed in for it to count as a proper story. So of course I sent it off to the_antichris for beta and we spent two hours researching 1930s gymslips and how to get them out of the way in a hurry. Some days you just wonder what the hell your life has become.
2625 words, NC-17, guess the pairing. Seventh out of the current nine installments.
"So as best as I understand it," Hilary said, sitting down on the edge of the bed and untying her shoes, "you're giving me yourself for my birthday."
"I got you a proper present too," Jerry protested; he had already removed his own shoes and was currently disentangling himself from his school jumper. "And anyway, I sometimes suspect you devote far more thought to my supposedly enormous ego than I do."
"Someone's got to keep the thing in check. But since you've made all these arrangements, we may as well put them to use." Hilary let herself fall backwards onto the bed, grinning over at him, and rolled over to tuck her wand under the pillow for use in the hopefully not-too-distant future.
Jerry had sworn up and down that he hadn't a clue how he had found this room; it was small and cozy, furnished with a large comfortable bed and a fireplace and not much else, and Hilary couldn't imagine what it was doing in the castle barring some kind of magical accident. As a trysting-place, however, it showed signs of being an enormous improvement over the deserted classrooms they'd used half a dozen times since their first attempt on Boxing Day, and Hilary hoped it intended to stay in existence.
Before her hand was even out from under the pillow Jerry lay down behind her, kissing her neck, and Hilary rolled onto her back and wriggled happily. "It's lovely," she said more softly. "It really is. Thank you."
"Terribly generous of you to say so, your Highness." He leaned over to kiss her; Hilary decided it wasn't worth breaking away again to retort, and instead tugged his shirt free of his trousers so that she could slide her hands over the smooth warmth of his bare waist. Jerry hummed, slinging his leg over hers. "Shh," he murmured, "no need to rush."
"I want to touch you," said Hilary petulantly, though the eagerness with which he was trying to push her gymslip down off her shoulders spoke for itself. "I hope you don't mind," and gave in to a spiteful urge to tickle him instead.
Jerry laughed, was indignant a moment later, and gave her uniform a violent tug that was nonetheless utterly fruitless. The brief grapple that ensued was more or less sincere, but also enjoyable for several more reasons than the usual, and resulted in most of Jerry's clothing being removed and most of Hilary's bunching up around her waist in a thoroughly undignified manner. Ultimately he got on top of her and his hands got inside her brassiere, and Hilary whimpered pathetically and decided to let herself be pinned. Just this once. "You see," he declared triumphantly, settling down full-length atop her and nuzzling her jaw, "you see how nice it is to stop complaining and let someone do you a good turn once in a while?"
"Maybe." It wasn't a clever response at all, but it was difficult to be clever when Jerry was kissing her throat and his thumbs were stroking the undersides of her breasts. Hilary shrugged her straps and her open blouse down off her shoulders and settled for the much more immediate--and more effective--strategy of arching her hips up against his.
"Oh, God." Jerry choked and froze above her for a few seconds, cheeks flushing, and she really hadn't anticipated how much she would enjoy seeing that. He dropped heavily back down and kissed her, with much less finesse this time, and Hilary wrapped herself bodily around him and groaned encouragingly. "Tell me what you want," he said, strangled, though he was already ducking back down to take one of her nipples into his mouth. "Anything. It is your birthday."
"That," said Hilary delightedly, digging one heel into the bedspread and clutching at his arms. "I want you to never, ever stop doing that, that's really quite good, oh Jerry--what are you doing?"
Jerry glanced up at her, not looking the least bit sheepish. "I only wondered whether I could get your entire breast into my mouth."
Hilary stared dazedly at him. "I did say not to stop," she pointed out, after a long moment, and let out a startled moan as he started in on her other breast. She was already aching for more, and when his hand slid up her thigh a little time later she was more than happy to open her legs in response. "Jerry," she said suddenly; it was the first proper word she'd produced in a few minutes, and she hadn't expected to sound quite so hoarse. "There is something I'd like to try."
He paused midway through the process of removing her knickers and wet his lips. "Fire away. No reasonable offer declined."
Hilary thought about his tongue, and then quite abruptly stopped thinking entirely; what she had thought was a simple request only a moment ago now seemed beyond words. "Your mouth," she finally managed, flushed right through with a hot uncomfortable mixture of embarrassment and desire. "I've heard girls--women--I've heard it's really good, if you use your mouth on me, though I'm not entirely sure how it works."
Jerry swallowed visibly, twice. "I haven't the faintest idea how it's done either," he admitted, and went on hastily, "but I'd love to give it a go, all the same. I'm sure between us we can work it out," he concluded, and sat back on his heels to finish removing her knickers. Hilary shifted her hips, partly to be helpful and partly because she was desperate to do something, and pulled her skirt up to her waist to bare herself entirely; but then Jerry only lay down between her legs and stared.
All in a rush, Hilary found herself suddenly profoundly glad that they weren't actual lovers. If they had been, she imagined this would have been an important and serious act, momentous and fraught with significant emotion and so on. But Jerry was her friend and this was fun, and even if she was still wearing everything but her knickers and shoes, and being examined so closely at such length felt equal parts embarrassing and silly and utterly obscene, she found she didn't mind feeling silly with him. It was much nicer, really, than the dramatic romantic things people got up to in books.
It wasn't nearly as nice as him actually doing anything, however, so after a minute or so she propped herself up on her elbows to meet his eyes. "Are you all right down there?"
"You're terribly complicated-looking from this angle," said Jerry uncertainly. "Although--did you know you've got freckles? Just here." His fingers found places maddeningly far up on her thighs.
"Look," said Hilary, though she couldn't seem to breathe right. "If you honestly don't want to, just say," but instead Jerry kissed her, just a light press of lips on the edge of where she was dying to be touched, and she squeaked and grabbed at the bedspread.
He lifted his head to check on her, but there was a terribly promising glint in his eye. "Shall I go on?"
Hilary nodded frantically. "Yes, you damn well shall."
She had to give him credit, he took his time figuring it out. It felt like ages, though very pleasant ages, that he spent nuzzling her open and exploring, testing out places to lick and suck at her while Hilary squirmed and giggled and bit her lip. At one point she missed having her hands on him, badly enough that she reached down to stroke his hair and down his cheek, and Jerry turned his head to suck at her fingertips, and even that sent a jolt of heat through her. It was so unhurried and affectionate that the purely physical pleasure snuck up on her; one moment she was watching him between her legs, utterly fascinated, and the next she realized that she was rocking her hips up into his mouth, that she was clinging to the bedspread again, that when he licked over certain places little helpless cries were breaking out of her.
And then at some point he paused, hesitated just long enough to be frustrating, and pushed his tongue right up inside her, and Hilary let out such a shriek that she shoved her hand into her mouth to muffle herself.
Jerry sat up, eyes huge and mouth wet, and shifted up to remove her hand and kiss her; it took a minute for Hilary to realize the odd taste in his mouth was herself, and only another second to stop minding. "Don't," he gasped, clutching her hand and pinning it by her head. "It's your birthday, make as much noise as you like."
Hilary laughed into his mouth, hooking her leg around one of his. His free hand was between her legs, fingers wandering and teasing but never slipping into her no matter how she tried to move her hips. "Please." She was throbbing, right through her whole body, past thinking about much of anything besides the need to get some part of him inside her. "I hate you, please, please."
"You should see yourself," said Jerry, staring down at her. "Oh, Merlin, you are--well, you're certainly something."
She shoved pointedly at his shoulders, and he went back down where he belonged.
There was no need for exploration by now. His fingers slid into her, and his tongue slid over her, and then again, and again, and Hilary moaned and fell back flat against the bed. The oncoming tide of pleasure was steady and relentless, though Jerry was making eager noises of his own by now, muffled between her legs. "More," she pleaded, "oh, oh," digging one heel into his shoulder, and he obligingly worked faster, until at long last she went tumbling over the edge with a sob of relief.
"Good?" inquired Jerry, collapsing on his stomach next to her.
Hilary stared blankly down herself, and then over at him. "Think we could do with a bit more practice at it," she said lazily, "don't you?" and was giggling helplessly before Jerry even had a chance to take her seriously.
"Just for that--" He rolled over onto his side, pressing up meaningfully against her hip. "I think I might just go back to the dormitory now."
"I'd like to see you try." Hilary twisted to face him, sinking her hips against his for a moment, and gasped. "Oh," she said faintly. "You did enjoy that."
"Rather more than expected," agreed Jerry, face buried in her neck. "Can we still--"
""Yes," she said hastily, feeling a fresh thrill already running through her. "Absolutely, just give me a minute. I need to concentrate to get this right."
"And I need to get my trousers off." He groaned, though, and shoved against her once or twice more before sitting up.
Hilary took a few long deep breaths, trying to steady herself, before kneeling up and reaching to retrieve her wand from under the pillow so that she could do what needed to be done. It took two tries, but she breathed a sigh of relief when she felt the familiar cold burst in her gut. "I've still got my socks on," she observed, distracted and still inexplicably a bit embarrassed by the sight of Jerry naked, and reached down to pull her gymslip over her head and toss it somewhere onto the floor.
The moment this was accomplished, Jerry shifted right back over to kneel at her side and hug her; Hilary laughed, startled by the casual affection, and leaned into him as she kicked her socks away. "Your hair looks a complete fright," he confided, quite earnestly.
"Have you any idea how lucky you are that I like you?" Hilary turned her head to press a sloppy kiss to the side of his neck, and then another, and relished the way he squirmed, fumbling in the process of helping free her entirely from her blouse and brassiere. She had to admit she loved doing this; loved getting to see him flustered for once, embarrassed and needy just like every other boy in the world.
One of his hands had wandered up to cover her breast and the other was straying back down between her legs, and that didn't exactly hurt either.
"I wonder," Hilary murmured, and turned to throw a leg over him, straddling his lap. He was terrifically hard, and when she settled into place he pressed right against her where she was most sensitive, making her duck her head and gasp at the pressure.
"I take back everything I said about your hair," said Jerry, voice gone ragged; Hilary draped her arms over his shoulders and he gave her a long thorough kiss, playing with her chest and rocking up against her until she was whimpering all over again. "And you're brilliant, and you're killing me, Hilary, please."
It took an effort even to break that much contact, but she knelt up so that together they could guide him inside her. Positioned like this, it was easier than usual for Hilary to look down and watch as he pushed inside; coupled with the too-full feeling to which she still hadn't quite accustomed herself, the process became something astonishing all on its own. Once she'd settled down onto him, though, she was too occupied with blind want to think much more about it.
They were getting better, at least, at finding a rhythm together, and this time it was quick and shallow and thoroughly unromantic. Even if Hilary had still cared to muffle herself, she was digging her fingers too deeply into Jerry's shoulders to do so, and he in turn was gripping her hips near-painfully, guiding her as she pushed blindly against him. "Come on," he was panting in response to her frantic moans, mouth pressing hotly against her shoulders and neck; and then he ducked his head and sucked at her nipple again and Hilary choked and shuddered as another climax slammed through her, taking her by surprise. "Oh thank God," he gasped, and thrust up a few times more before spilling into her.
Hilary slumped against him, still shivering, and Jerry toppled backwards against the bed and took her with him. They sprawled there together for a little while before she finally mustered the inclination to stir--and then only to locate the head of the bed so she could pull the bedspread back. "I need a nap," she announced, already tangling herself up in the blankets. "And I'm not going back to Ravenclaw Tower in this state."
It hadn't precisely been an invitation, but she didn't really mind either when Jerry joined her under the covers, his arm loose around her waist. "It must be past curfew by now," he observed. "The damage is probably already done."
"And you're hoping to do it again, I suppose." Hilary laughed at his guilty expression and reached over to push his damp hair out of his face. "You heard me," she murmured, letting her foot slide against his calf. "I want a nap. But it might do you good to hang about and see what happens after that."
She hadn't anticipated, when she'd first suggested this, how much she would relish touching him just for the sake of touching; it was meant to be an educational arrangement, but no matter how far they went it always seemed somehow to be a completely natural extension of the friendship they'd always had. Which was why Hilary finally caved and wriggled closer into Jerry's arms, hooking one leg sleepily around one of his. "Mmmph," he said drowsily. "Good birthday?"
"Excellent," said Hilary, and closed her eyes. It felt terribly grown-up and decadent, finishing off her seventeenth birthday this way with this young man; nothing romantic, she decided, could ever possibly have been as good as this.
Coming next down this pipe, in some order or other: Hilary gets a clue (possibly on multiple fronts), the first Triwizard challenge followed by some monumental teenage stupidity, and a bit of Peter/Harriet. I have something else bigger I desperately want to finish with first, though.
Anyway, I wrote it as a present for my buddy soda_and_capes and he loved it and thought there was enough character development mixed in for it to count as a proper story. So of course I sent it off to the_antichris for beta and we spent two hours researching 1930s gymslips and how to get them out of the way in a hurry. Some days you just wonder what the hell your life has become.
2625 words, NC-17, guess the pairing. Seventh out of the current nine installments.
"So as best as I understand it," Hilary said, sitting down on the edge of the bed and untying her shoes, "you're giving me yourself for my birthday."
"I got you a proper present too," Jerry protested; he had already removed his own shoes and was currently disentangling himself from his school jumper. "And anyway, I sometimes suspect you devote far more thought to my supposedly enormous ego than I do."
"Someone's got to keep the thing in check. But since you've made all these arrangements, we may as well put them to use." Hilary let herself fall backwards onto the bed, grinning over at him, and rolled over to tuck her wand under the pillow for use in the hopefully not-too-distant future.
Jerry had sworn up and down that he hadn't a clue how he had found this room; it was small and cozy, furnished with a large comfortable bed and a fireplace and not much else, and Hilary couldn't imagine what it was doing in the castle barring some kind of magical accident. As a trysting-place, however, it showed signs of being an enormous improvement over the deserted classrooms they'd used half a dozen times since their first attempt on Boxing Day, and Hilary hoped it intended to stay in existence.
Before her hand was even out from under the pillow Jerry lay down behind her, kissing her neck, and Hilary rolled onto her back and wriggled happily. "It's lovely," she said more softly. "It really is. Thank you."
"Terribly generous of you to say so, your Highness." He leaned over to kiss her; Hilary decided it wasn't worth breaking away again to retort, and instead tugged his shirt free of his trousers so that she could slide her hands over the smooth warmth of his bare waist. Jerry hummed, slinging his leg over hers. "Shh," he murmured, "no need to rush."
"I want to touch you," said Hilary petulantly, though the eagerness with which he was trying to push her gymslip down off her shoulders spoke for itself. "I hope you don't mind," and gave in to a spiteful urge to tickle him instead.
Jerry laughed, was indignant a moment later, and gave her uniform a violent tug that was nonetheless utterly fruitless. The brief grapple that ensued was more or less sincere, but also enjoyable for several more reasons than the usual, and resulted in most of Jerry's clothing being removed and most of Hilary's bunching up around her waist in a thoroughly undignified manner. Ultimately he got on top of her and his hands got inside her brassiere, and Hilary whimpered pathetically and decided to let herself be pinned. Just this once. "You see," he declared triumphantly, settling down full-length atop her and nuzzling her jaw, "you see how nice it is to stop complaining and let someone do you a good turn once in a while?"
"Maybe." It wasn't a clever response at all, but it was difficult to be clever when Jerry was kissing her throat and his thumbs were stroking the undersides of her breasts. Hilary shrugged her straps and her open blouse down off her shoulders and settled for the much more immediate--and more effective--strategy of arching her hips up against his.
"Oh, God." Jerry choked and froze above her for a few seconds, cheeks flushing, and she really hadn't anticipated how much she would enjoy seeing that. He dropped heavily back down and kissed her, with much less finesse this time, and Hilary wrapped herself bodily around him and groaned encouragingly. "Tell me what you want," he said, strangled, though he was already ducking back down to take one of her nipples into his mouth. "Anything. It is your birthday."
"That," said Hilary delightedly, digging one heel into the bedspread and clutching at his arms. "I want you to never, ever stop doing that, that's really quite good, oh Jerry--what are you doing?"
Jerry glanced up at her, not looking the least bit sheepish. "I only wondered whether I could get your entire breast into my mouth."
Hilary stared dazedly at him. "I did say not to stop," she pointed out, after a long moment, and let out a startled moan as he started in on her other breast. She was already aching for more, and when his hand slid up her thigh a little time later she was more than happy to open her legs in response. "Jerry," she said suddenly; it was the first proper word she'd produced in a few minutes, and she hadn't expected to sound quite so hoarse. "There is something I'd like to try."
He paused midway through the process of removing her knickers and wet his lips. "Fire away. No reasonable offer declined."
Hilary thought about his tongue, and then quite abruptly stopped thinking entirely; what she had thought was a simple request only a moment ago now seemed beyond words. "Your mouth," she finally managed, flushed right through with a hot uncomfortable mixture of embarrassment and desire. "I've heard girls--women--I've heard it's really good, if you use your mouth on me, though I'm not entirely sure how it works."
Jerry swallowed visibly, twice. "I haven't the faintest idea how it's done either," he admitted, and went on hastily, "but I'd love to give it a go, all the same. I'm sure between us we can work it out," he concluded, and sat back on his heels to finish removing her knickers. Hilary shifted her hips, partly to be helpful and partly because she was desperate to do something, and pulled her skirt up to her waist to bare herself entirely; but then Jerry only lay down between her legs and stared.
All in a rush, Hilary found herself suddenly profoundly glad that they weren't actual lovers. If they had been, she imagined this would have been an important and serious act, momentous and fraught with significant emotion and so on. But Jerry was her friend and this was fun, and even if she was still wearing everything but her knickers and shoes, and being examined so closely at such length felt equal parts embarrassing and silly and utterly obscene, she found she didn't mind feeling silly with him. It was much nicer, really, than the dramatic romantic things people got up to in books.
It wasn't nearly as nice as him actually doing anything, however, so after a minute or so she propped herself up on her elbows to meet his eyes. "Are you all right down there?"
"You're terribly complicated-looking from this angle," said Jerry uncertainly. "Although--did you know you've got freckles? Just here." His fingers found places maddeningly far up on her thighs.
"Look," said Hilary, though she couldn't seem to breathe right. "If you honestly don't want to, just say," but instead Jerry kissed her, just a light press of lips on the edge of where she was dying to be touched, and she squeaked and grabbed at the bedspread.
He lifted his head to check on her, but there was a terribly promising glint in his eye. "Shall I go on?"
Hilary nodded frantically. "Yes, you damn well shall."
She had to give him credit, he took his time figuring it out. It felt like ages, though very pleasant ages, that he spent nuzzling her open and exploring, testing out places to lick and suck at her while Hilary squirmed and giggled and bit her lip. At one point she missed having her hands on him, badly enough that she reached down to stroke his hair and down his cheek, and Jerry turned his head to suck at her fingertips, and even that sent a jolt of heat through her. It was so unhurried and affectionate that the purely physical pleasure snuck up on her; one moment she was watching him between her legs, utterly fascinated, and the next she realized that she was rocking her hips up into his mouth, that she was clinging to the bedspread again, that when he licked over certain places little helpless cries were breaking out of her.
And then at some point he paused, hesitated just long enough to be frustrating, and pushed his tongue right up inside her, and Hilary let out such a shriek that she shoved her hand into her mouth to muffle herself.
Jerry sat up, eyes huge and mouth wet, and shifted up to remove her hand and kiss her; it took a minute for Hilary to realize the odd taste in his mouth was herself, and only another second to stop minding. "Don't," he gasped, clutching her hand and pinning it by her head. "It's your birthday, make as much noise as you like."
Hilary laughed into his mouth, hooking her leg around one of his. His free hand was between her legs, fingers wandering and teasing but never slipping into her no matter how she tried to move her hips. "Please." She was throbbing, right through her whole body, past thinking about much of anything besides the need to get some part of him inside her. "I hate you, please, please."
"You should see yourself," said Jerry, staring down at her. "Oh, Merlin, you are--well, you're certainly something."
She shoved pointedly at his shoulders, and he went back down where he belonged.
There was no need for exploration by now. His fingers slid into her, and his tongue slid over her, and then again, and again, and Hilary moaned and fell back flat against the bed. The oncoming tide of pleasure was steady and relentless, though Jerry was making eager noises of his own by now, muffled between her legs. "More," she pleaded, "oh, oh," digging one heel into his shoulder, and he obligingly worked faster, until at long last she went tumbling over the edge with a sob of relief.
"Good?" inquired Jerry, collapsing on his stomach next to her.
Hilary stared blankly down herself, and then over at him. "Think we could do with a bit more practice at it," she said lazily, "don't you?" and was giggling helplessly before Jerry even had a chance to take her seriously.
"Just for that--" He rolled over onto his side, pressing up meaningfully against her hip. "I think I might just go back to the dormitory now."
"I'd like to see you try." Hilary twisted to face him, sinking her hips against his for a moment, and gasped. "Oh," she said faintly. "You did enjoy that."
"Rather more than expected," agreed Jerry, face buried in her neck. "Can we still--"
""Yes," she said hastily, feeling a fresh thrill already running through her. "Absolutely, just give me a minute. I need to concentrate to get this right."
"And I need to get my trousers off." He groaned, though, and shoved against her once or twice more before sitting up.
Hilary took a few long deep breaths, trying to steady herself, before kneeling up and reaching to retrieve her wand from under the pillow so that she could do what needed to be done. It took two tries, but she breathed a sigh of relief when she felt the familiar cold burst in her gut. "I've still got my socks on," she observed, distracted and still inexplicably a bit embarrassed by the sight of Jerry naked, and reached down to pull her gymslip over her head and toss it somewhere onto the floor.
The moment this was accomplished, Jerry shifted right back over to kneel at her side and hug her; Hilary laughed, startled by the casual affection, and leaned into him as she kicked her socks away. "Your hair looks a complete fright," he confided, quite earnestly.
"Have you any idea how lucky you are that I like you?" Hilary turned her head to press a sloppy kiss to the side of his neck, and then another, and relished the way he squirmed, fumbling in the process of helping free her entirely from her blouse and brassiere. She had to admit she loved doing this; loved getting to see him flustered for once, embarrassed and needy just like every other boy in the world.
One of his hands had wandered up to cover her breast and the other was straying back down between her legs, and that didn't exactly hurt either.
"I wonder," Hilary murmured, and turned to throw a leg over him, straddling his lap. He was terrifically hard, and when she settled into place he pressed right against her where she was most sensitive, making her duck her head and gasp at the pressure.
"I take back everything I said about your hair," said Jerry, voice gone ragged; Hilary draped her arms over his shoulders and he gave her a long thorough kiss, playing with her chest and rocking up against her until she was whimpering all over again. "And you're brilliant, and you're killing me, Hilary, please."
It took an effort even to break that much contact, but she knelt up so that together they could guide him inside her. Positioned like this, it was easier than usual for Hilary to look down and watch as he pushed inside; coupled with the too-full feeling to which she still hadn't quite accustomed herself, the process became something astonishing all on its own. Once she'd settled down onto him, though, she was too occupied with blind want to think much more about it.
They were getting better, at least, at finding a rhythm together, and this time it was quick and shallow and thoroughly unromantic. Even if Hilary had still cared to muffle herself, she was digging her fingers too deeply into Jerry's shoulders to do so, and he in turn was gripping her hips near-painfully, guiding her as she pushed blindly against him. "Come on," he was panting in response to her frantic moans, mouth pressing hotly against her shoulders and neck; and then he ducked his head and sucked at her nipple again and Hilary choked and shuddered as another climax slammed through her, taking her by surprise. "Oh thank God," he gasped, and thrust up a few times more before spilling into her.
Hilary slumped against him, still shivering, and Jerry toppled backwards against the bed and took her with him. They sprawled there together for a little while before she finally mustered the inclination to stir--and then only to locate the head of the bed so she could pull the bedspread back. "I need a nap," she announced, already tangling herself up in the blankets. "And I'm not going back to Ravenclaw Tower in this state."
It hadn't precisely been an invitation, but she didn't really mind either when Jerry joined her under the covers, his arm loose around her waist. "It must be past curfew by now," he observed. "The damage is probably already done."
"And you're hoping to do it again, I suppose." Hilary laughed at his guilty expression and reached over to push his damp hair out of his face. "You heard me," she murmured, letting her foot slide against his calf. "I want a nap. But it might do you good to hang about and see what happens after that."
She hadn't anticipated, when she'd first suggested this, how much she would relish touching him just for the sake of touching; it was meant to be an educational arrangement, but no matter how far they went it always seemed somehow to be a completely natural extension of the friendship they'd always had. Which was why Hilary finally caved and wriggled closer into Jerry's arms, hooking one leg sleepily around one of his. "Mmmph," he said drowsily. "Good birthday?"
"Excellent," said Hilary, and closed her eyes. It felt terribly grown-up and decadent, finishing off her seventeenth birthday this way with this young man; nothing romantic, she decided, could ever possibly have been as good as this.
Coming next down this pipe, in some order or other: Hilary gets a clue (possibly on multiple fronts), the first Triwizard challenge followed by some monumental teenage stupidity, and a bit of Peter/Harriet. I have something else bigger I desperately want to finish with first, though.