A Visit to the Headmistress' Office

madscientist

Rating: NC17
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 21/09/2006
Last Updated: 21/09/2006
Status: completed

A small little cutscene from Harry Potter and the Circle's End. A slightly belated birthday present to Hermione.

Chapters

1. untitled

1. untitled

A Visit to the Headmistress' Office NC-17
Harry/Hermione and Remus/Tonks

A/N: This is a little ficlet set in Harry Potter and the Circle's End, somewhere between chapters 24 and 29. You don't have to have read that to know what's going on, but there are a few references to earlier events. Thanks as usual to Lady Starlight for her work on this fic.

***************************Headmistress' Office***************************

The large, circular room-that had served as an office for everyone from Godric Gryffindor to Phineas Nigellus Black, to Albus Dumbledore-sat quiet, the dozens of portraits of former Headmasters and Mistresses snoring softly in their frames. The room sat much as it had in Dumbledore's time, fewer mysterious instruments sat on tables, tins of crackers sat on the desk instead of bins of random candies, but more was the same as different. A golden perch sat empty, waiting for an occupant who may never return. A huge oak desk sat cluttered with papers, reviews of students and staff, detention slips, bills and ledgers to review and approve and other minutia of being Headmistress of the foremost Wizarding school in Europe.

A soft quarter-moon shone in the windows lining the outer wall, filling the room with silver light, glinting off a line of glass-fronted bookshelves that held rare and sensitive magical tomes. A quiet, crackling snore came from the portrait of Brandon Bannock, a wizard with the unfortunate distinction of holding the office of Headmaster for the shortest amount of time of any to hold that office, one day. His brief experience had led to his successor putting in place the ruling that Dragons, probably, shouldn't be allowed to wander the grounds of the school.

A clock, set on the wall, clicked over the hour and chimed, a sparkling light show erupting along its face for a moment before settling down. A quiet creak sounded in the room as the heavy oak door with its Griffin knocker opened slowly, and closed, with no apparent cause. A soft giggle came from nowhere, and a table scooted backwards as if someone had run into it...

"Shhh...you're going to get us caught..." a quiet baritone murmured, as a chair moved by itself.

"What's wrong...Harrryyyyy," a soft, breathy soprano answered, only inches from the first voice, "is my big, brave Gryffindor afraid?" A head of chestnut curls slowly appeared, followed by the rest of a slim female form clad in a white school shirt that fairly glowed in the moonlight, over a black skirt with red piping, with a hemline that hit about three or four inches below the curve of her arse, revealing the vast majority of a gleaming dragonhide wand sheath strapped to her thigh.

A soft fluttering of invisible fabric answered her jibe, as another cloak slipped to the floor. Inky-black hair was painted silver by the moonlight, looking as if a bowl of frosting had been upended over it, and emerald eyes peaked out from behind glinting lenses and through a fall of hair as his hands shot out, grabbing her hips and pulling her against him. "Should I be?"

Hermione smirked, licking her lips and taking a deep breath, watching as his eyes glazed over slightly. Her eyes flickered as she took another breath, and the top three buttons of her school blouse unbuttoned themselves. Her fingers slowly traced up his chest, she made a curious snap with her fingers and one of his shirt buttons popped. "Oh," another button popped as she traced her fingers down, her short, practical, precisely-painted nails scratching lightly down his chest, "you should be," a third and fourth button popped, leaving only two or three holding his shirt closed at the bottom. She leaned forward, dipping her head and kissing his chest directly above his heart. "Do you know what," breathed, hot breath dancing along his skin, before she raised her head slightly, pausing to suckle lightly on the juncture of his neck and shoulder, "I want from you?"

Harry walked backwards slightly until his back hit the edge of a couch. He turned them around, and picked her up, setting her on the back of the couch, "I have an idea." She laughed quietly, and several of the portraits grumbled, starting to wake up. "We seem to have an audience, love," Harry murmured, leaning forward to nibble on her ear as his fingers slowly began to work their way up along the outside of her thighs.

She rolled her head, looking around at the portraits stirring. She reached down, grabbing the handle of her wand from where it lay strapped to her thigh and looked back, flicking her wand in a circle about the room. A faint fog faded into existence, covering the portraits as if they were behind frosted glass. "Now they will just get the idea," she murmured, sliding her wand back into its sheath unseeing with the dint of the aid of long practice.

"You are such a wicked little witch," Harry whispered lovingly.

She paused in her quest to give Harry a mark that amply demonstrated what they had been doing to the world, and looked up at him through long, dark lashes. "Only with you," she said needlessly. She looked down, seeing his hands disappearing beneath her skirt, and their breaths hitched, almost in unison as Harry's fingers reached the tops of her thighs-having found no impediment to his explorations. She took a slightly shuddering breath, as she leaned her forehead against his, smirking as she found Harry looking at her with an expression of a child who had just learned that there really was a Santa Claus. "I thought I'd save us time."

"So bloody brilliant," Harry muttered and kissed her. His eyes flickered as he glanced down, and the remainder of the buttons holding her shirt together slowly, one by one, unbuttoned themselves, revealing the codicil to her statement, that she had neglected other things in the name of expedience. The slightly wilted cotton rustled, and she sighed softly, as the shirt slowly, gradually, without any help from Harry's fingers, which were still under her skirt, moving in slow circles along the skin of her thighs, untucked itself from her waistband.

Hermione ran her fingers up his chest, tracing a nail up from the button of his jeans, and the three remaining buttons, popped, one-by-one, a silent answer to his challenge. She pushed both of her hands under his shirt, running her thumbs along his abs, the movement pulling the shirt free. She looked back over her shoulder, and grinned as she regarded the huge oak desk, and the large chair behind it. Her fingers slipped into his back pockets, pulling him closer.

"Harry," she murmured, her lips dancing along his pulse, just shy of his right ear. He nodded, preoccupied, with lightly tracing her ribs. Hermione gasped quietly, shivering for an instant in the cool room as her shirt fell back, fluttering back over the couch as Harry slowly eased it off her body. A faint glow filled her eyes as Harry pulled her tighter to him, and the rough cotton of his shirt, scraped lightly along her chest. Her eyes fluttered almost closed as she unconsciously squirmed against him.

Her eyes closed completely as she pushed forward a touch more, and felt his response to her, separated from her only by the denim of his jeans. "Yes, love?" Harry replied quietly. His right hand slipped out from under her skirt, reaching up to slowly, one-by-one, sweep long, curled fringe from her eyes. Her eyes slipped open, watching him, she looked down, and watched as his fingers slowly traced the small, jagged scar between her breasts, and reciprocated, reaching up with the fingers of her left hand and tracing them lightly along his scar...at least the one he was famous for. She swallowed heavily at the sight of others, one on his chest, another small one on his neck, a jagged one his left shoulder...all souvenirs of his lifelong fight, before he gave her a quick smile and darted forward, kissing her.

"Go sit in the chair, Harry," Hermione purred softly, gesturing towards the chair behind the desk. She turned her head, watching over her shoulder as Harry kept his eyes on her and crossed to the desk chair, and sank into it. He watched as Hermione slipped from the back of the couch and stalked over to him. She placed a hand on either arm of the chair and leaned forward, pushing her lips to his. Tongues clashed gently, before she pulled back and sank to her knees in front of him.

Harry looked down as she looked up at him; a dark curtain of hair covered half of her face, soft emerald glows shining through the curtain. "I've been a very bad girl, Professor," Hermione said softly, pouting slightly.

"What was it this time, Miss Granger?" Harry replied in a tone of poorly faked exasperation. His actions belied his words as he reached down and, most-likely, unconsciously, played with a small braid on the side of her head.

"I turned Pansy into a giant chicken," Hermione smirked and Harry laughed softly, as she walked her fingers along his thigh.

"So? Was that so bad?" Harry replied, capturing the hand with his and assiduously ignoring the other that was slowly working at his belt. Hermione looked down, as she shook her hand from his and using both hands and a rather inordinate amount of concentration for such a task, crept the zipper down on his jeans almost a link at a time.

She looked up at him, and shrugged slightly. Her eyes slipped closed again, dampening the slight green glow for an instant as Harry ran his fingers along her cheek. She reopened them; "The house elves fed her to Fluffy."

"A hundred points to Gryffindor," Harry replied, watching as Hermione returned to what she had been doing. She slowly ran her nails along the bulge in his boxers and he hissed softly, arching up towards her. Hermione giggled quietly, "You never used to," Harry mentioned tightly, as she started to work the jeans and boxers down, careful to clear the obstruction.

"Used to what?" she replied, tugging on his jeans until he rose up in the chair, enough to clear his bum from the seat. She pulled them down to his ankles, and with a quick flicker of her fingers, off totally, to reappear with a quiet pop, across the room on the couch with her shirt. His trainers appeared on the floor next to the couch, Harry snorted and then looked back down at her.

"Giggle."

"Honestly," she murmured, her eyes falling to the head of his now-free cock as it stood to attention, "I never had the incentive, did I?" She slowly lowered her head, and looked up with just her eyes. "Only a hundred points, huh?" Harry gasped as she kissed the head, and then without pause, took him in her mouth. "Hummm?" she repeated and he shuddered.

"Th...thousand p...points," Harry stammered, his eyes crossing slightly as she started to move up and down, sucking slightly on the upstroke. She laughed, mutely, and he shuddered slightly. Harry's eyes slipped closed as she continued to work, humming a soft, familiar tune under her breath, and his head flopped listlessly back against the back of the chair.

Harry reached down, tangling his fingers in curly locks as she moved up and down, looking up at him, holding his gaze with hers. He groaned, as she paused, and her eyes flickered, before she took him in completely and started moving faster. Miiiooonneee...Harry moaned and she giggled sending shivers down his spine, to pool deep in his belly. Her fingers slipped up from his thighs, skating lightly along his belly and sent lines of fire from her nails shooting down his spine as they moved in time with her mouth.

Hermione felt her mind start to swirl, thoughts crashing as she felt fire start to crash along her nerves, she moved once more, and Harry groaned loudly, possibly her name as he bucked up, held down only by her arm as he let go. Hermione swallowed heavily, gulping a couple of times before she sat back on her haunches, panting, her eyes glowing as she dropped her head to his lap, lying her cheek on his thigh and looking up. C'mere, Mione, Harry whispered and she crawled up into his lap, straddling him.

She growled under her breath as she felt him already responding to her again and bent forward. Her lips touched his and fell open, reacting to the tip of the tongue sliding along her lips. Harry growled, tasting himself on her lips and deepened the kiss, his hands coming up to tangle in her hair, pulling her to him.

Breaking away after a long, breathless, thoughtless instant, Hermione looked back over her shoulder and back at him, before raising both eyebrows wantonly, stretching back against his hands, bending almost double before pulling herself upright with her abs, and kissing him, as she ground against him, the thin wool of her skirt pooling over their laps.

Hermione kissed his forehead and slowly stood up, taking two steps backwards until her bum hit the edge of the desk, and hopped up on it, reaching to each side and pushing piles of paper to the floor. A tin of chocolate biscuits fell to the floor with a clatter, and she froze, looking at Harry for a long moment, before she giggled softly and beckoned with a crooked right finger.

Harry almost jumped from the chair, hopping forward as Hermione scooted even further back on the top of the huge oak desk, almost larger in fact, than the tiny bed that she and Harry had fallen asleep in together, seemingly a lifetime ago, at Privet Drive. The rest of the papers and other assorted knick-knacks cluttering the top of the desk slipped to the floor as she lay back fully on the desk and reached up pulling Harry's lips down to hers as he crawled over the top of the desk, laying down between her legs, her skirt bunched up around her waist.

He rested his forehead against hers, looking over the tops of his glasses into her eyes. He glanced down, looking down at her body and grinning faintly, before he dropped his lips to her neck, nibbling along her pulse for a moment. Harry reached between them, spreading his hand over her belly, Inconceiveous, he breathed, and a warm wave slipped from his touch, washing along her nerves. She sighed sharply, arching up against him, and without another breath passed, his hand slid down, cradling her bum as he slipped into her with one practiced move.

Hermione gasped, as both of their eyes lit fully, their minds fell together, souls slipping forward, twisting together; losing themselves in each other. She reached down, pulling Harry's lips back to hers as he started to move, sliding in and out leisurely. Harry let his lips fall back down to her lips, and let them further trail down to her breast as she brought her legs up, locking her ankles behind his arse.

She held his eyes, as heartbeats, already never more than a beat or two apart, fell together in step, speeding up as Harry did, and she started to move to meet him, the soft sound of their coupling the only sound echoing through the empty room. Her ankles slipped higher, riding behind the small of his back, silently asking him to speed up.

His lips fell down, tracing a silver rivulet that traced down her neck, to slip between her breasts. "Oh...god, Harryyy..." she moaned as he reached down, lifting her bum slightly and moving a touch faster. The desk let out a soft squeak as they managed to make the heavy edifice move an inch on the flagstone floor.

She bit her lip, looking up at him, watching as sweat along his brow beaded silver in the moonlight. She tossed her head, flipping a lock of hair impatiently out of her eyes, a lock that had been half blinding her from seeing him. Harry reached up, brushing suddenly damp curls behind her ears, Better? he asked and she nodded once, her eyes rather serious as they bored into his.

Soft, mewing sounds started to slip from her throat in an ever-increasing stream, as she felt Harry's own release approaching, his feelings twisting together with hers, like the fingers of her hands as they interlaced with his for a moment. "Ohh...fuck...me," Harry breathed.

"Wor...rrking on i...it," Hermione replied, laughing breathlessly as their thoughts slipped back to their first time, in the bedroom at Grimmauld. She felt her eyes start to slip closed, the light from the magic filling them, falling to small crescents as he dropped his head to her neck and increased his pace still more.

A warm puddle of fire pooled in her belly, gathering into a tight ball as Harry moved faster. She watched as his eyes started to droop, the muscles of his core trembling lightly under her feather-light touch. Harry took a breath, moved once more and she crashed, the ball of fire exploding, cascading along her nerves as she crashed, shuddering around him, milking him, along.

"Hermionneee," Harry groaned as he moved once more, spilling into her and pulsing several times before he collapsed onto her, laying over her like a heavy, warm blanket as he let his head fall to the crook of her neck and rest there, his warm breath tickling her, playing along the moisture there. She smiled languidly, and slowly lifted her head, to kiss his scar as he lifted his head enough to look at her. He watched her from a few inches away, smiling happily, and slightly stupidly. She scrunched her nose at him and laughed.

Hermione grinned up at Harry, her fingers slowly picking apart individual, damp strands of black hair as she panted, recovering, the soft glow slowly fading from her eyes, as she pulled back her magic. Harry smiled back, and leaned forward a hair's breadth and kissed her, before slowly rolling to the side, tumbling another pile of papers to the floor and tucking her into the crook of his shoulder. Harry, I love you, you know, Hermione whispered, looking up and he nodded, before his head darted down, kissing the tip of her nose.

I hope so, he replied, running his fingers along her side, his eyes watching as they traced the hollow of her waist, and back up to lightly run along her hip, before falling back to cup her arse. Otherwise...his hand came up grabbing her left hand and bringing a platinum and gold band to his lips. A line of runes fired blue as his lips touched the warm metal, before his hand rotated, lacing his fingers with hers.

You're horrible, Hermione laughed silently. She looked down at his body, feeling his pulse and breathing slow to normal, as much in the ghostly secondary feeling flitting along her nerves, as in any sense that she had been born with. Or perhaps she had always had they link to Harry...it seemed as if that where the case more and more every day. But I suppose I'll have to live with it for the next few hundred...Hermione froze as a soft scraping sound came from the far, deepest end of the room, and crack of light appeared on the edge of a door leading back, to the corridor leading to the private quarters beyond.

Time seemed to stop as they looked at each other, eyes wide as Galleons, before they vanished, rolling off the desk to each side in a shimmering blur of motion. Hermione dove behind the couch, desperately flinging her hand at the desk. The top shimmered and changed, the disheveled papers rushing back to the top, sorting themselves in mid-air to the stacks and piles they had occupied minutes before. She let out a soft "EEP" as a warm body rolled on top of her, cut off instantly as an very familiar hand covered her mouth for a bare instant, just long enough for her to get the silent message, the messenger trusting her implicitly to get his meaning. Clothes shot from all over the room, pilling under the couch, followed by a rush of silvery fabric that dropped on them, and they vanished.

Harry's eyes shimmered for a heartbeat under the joined pair of invisibility cloaks, as they watched from under the corner of the couch, as the door opened fully and Minerva McGonagall walked in slowly, her eyes half clouded with sleep behind her square frames as she followed a hovering candle holder as she walked to the desk and started to dig through a pile of papers. "I canna believe that I forgot to send that to Filius..."

Hermione bit her lip as McGonagall sighed and sat down in her chair behind the desk. She frowned at something, looking around her office. She sighed, shaking her head as she reached forward and straightened a tin of crackers on the corner of her desk to a precise position, and ran her hands along a dark fall of hair, pulled forward over the shoulder of her tartan dressing gown, for once free of the severe bun that it normally rested in.

McGonagall looked down at her desk and frowned. Think she's taking house points from herself? Harry asked as McGonagall's fingers tapped on the desk, then, as if suddenly remembering, she opened a drawer and pulled out a large file folder. She reached into another drawer and pulled out a small square stack of parchments and wrote something on the top one, before ripping it off and pressing it to the top of the folder where it stuck as if glued. She touched the folder with a wand and it vanished with a POP.

Hermione giggled against his ear, and McGonagall looked up suddenly, then shook her head and stood. She slowly paced around the couch, her house shoes passing within inches of the edge of the layered invisibility cloaks, as she walked to the windows overlooking the grounds. She stopped, the candle floating at her ear, and her breath fogged the windows slightly as she watched a pair of the school owls flit and dive around the spire of Gryffindor Tower, just visible out of one corner of her window. "I wonder if Hermione is still awake?" she mused out loud, "I should ask her if she could substitute for Nymphadora Tuesday...if they are here, of course." She shrugged slightly, "I shan't disturb her; she is probably sleeping by now, poor dear..." McGonagall shook her head again, turned from the window and walked back to the entrance to her quarters beyond.

The door closed behind her, sealing with a soft shushing noise.

A quick rustling of fabric and the cloak was tossed aside as Harry rolled off of Hermione and flung his hand towards the door, tossing up a temporary Silencing Charm. He looked at Hermione and as their eyes met, both of them let out a bark of laughter. Hermione rolled onto her bum, summoning her shirt to her hands. She shrugged it on, buttoning it quickly and glancing over to find Harry sitting next to her pulling his jeans on without standing. She sat back, crossing her legs, as they had never gotten around to removing her skirt, she was ready, barring her shoes, and watched him button his shirt. Aww...do you really have to button it up? she pouted slightly.

Harry laughed in her head and leaned over, kissing her, before rocking to his back and snap-kicking to his feet. "Show off," Hermione mouthed, and proceeded to copy him. Harry seemed briefly dazed by the display, and she reached up, chucking a finger under his chin. She toed into her shoes, and summoned the cloak to her hand, as he turned to her. Her body except her head vanished as she draped the cloak over her shoulders and waited as Harry cast several charms, canceling whatever they had done in here. Her Fug of Bewilderment started to fade from the portraits as he reached over, grabbed her hand and pulled her quickly to the door.

He jerked it open and urged her through before following her through. The heavy oak door closed with a soft thump and a faint giggle could be heard from behind it, fading quickly.

Several minutes later, a blue-eyed, stone gargoyle leapt aside and scratched his head as nothing came from the doorway he had guarded. It turned, looking back up the spiraling stairs revealed when it moved and shrugged with a faint grinding sound of stone on stone before settling back into place and closing its eyes.

A beat passed, then two, and Harry then Hermione faded back into view, as hoods were shrugged back. Hermione slipped her cloak from her shoulders, gave it a curious twist of her wrist and it folded itself into a tiny, tight square, which she slipped into Harry's rear jeans pocket, like a wallet. He took his off as well, flipped it up in the air and it folded to another tight square, which soon joined hers in his other rear pocket. She smiled and took his hand, and leaned her head against his shoulder for a brief moment before they took off, walking down the center of the hall, as if on a casual Sunday stroll about the lake.

Hermione stopped and leaned up slightly, kissing his cheek, before they slipped up a moving staircase to the third floor, and froze as a soft, inaudible to almost any human, clicking of claws on stone sounded from up ahead and Harry tightened his grip on Hermione, took one step to the right and touched the elbow of a particularly shiny suit of armor in an endless line of the same leading down the hallway. They vanished as the armor and the entire alcove spun into the wall to be replaced by an exact replica.

Mrs. Norris sauntered by in the hall, totally unaware that there was anything amiss.

Harry looked down at Hermione in the flickering light from a dozen suddenly lit torches, and walked backwards, pulling her along with him until his back lightly hit the farther wall. He smiled, threading his fingers through her hair and bending down, kissing her for a moment or two, just because before holding her to his chest with one arm and reaching up, and grabbing an unlit sconce in a line of lit ones.

The wall flipped them around, to emerge in another hallway, this one curving around the inset base of Gryffindor Tower. Across from them, set down a few dozen yards, a heavy oak door inscribed with a rampant lion, and a small brass plaque stating "Head of Gryffindor House" sat closed. Harry smirked slightly as he took in the door, and a moment later, a breathy giggle, could be heard from down the hall, just around the curve of the base of Gryffindor Tower.

Harry gave Hermione a meaningful glance and slowly pulled her along, edging slowly along the curving corridor. As they moved, their line of sight cleared a tall statue of an owl, the Familiar of Jacob Crackledown, the seventh headmaster of Hogwarts. At least one version of Hogwarts, a History claimed that the Familiar was actually the Headmaster during most of that term. Hermione's hand shot up to cover her mouth, hiding an insistent giggle at the sight that was presented to them.

A petite witch with long cerulean hair, falling all the way down her back and half covering her bum, was nestled up against a slim wizard, his head turned down so that only his graying brown hair was visible as he nuzzled at her neck. Harry leaned back against the wall, pulling Hermione against him as they watched for a moment. He could feel Hermione fighting her laughter, as was he, though the fact that she kept poking him in the side helped keep his relative silence.

Harry cleared his throat softly as the wizard's hands dropped to the hem of an already short skirt and it started to creep up until he and Hermione could almost discern Tonks' taste in knickers...or lack thereof. Neither her nor Lupin noticed, being rather preoccupied and Harry looked down at Hermione, crooking an eyebrow, "Hermione," Harry said loudly, and Tonks jumped back, spinning and going for a wand, "do you think that we can take retroactive points from Gryffindor for these two miscreants?"

"Unfortunately, no," she replied in a voice rife with mock exasperation, "I am afraid that would require too much paperwork." She smirked, brown eyes twinkling madly, "Detention with Filch, perhaps."

Lupin frowned, and Tonks slipped her wand somewhere back into her shirt, somewhere, and dropped her hands to her hips, frowning and trying to glare at the Heads, only to have her annoyance slide off them like water. "And what were you two up to?" Lupin replied wryly, a tiny grin trying to force its way to his lips. He glanced down as Tonks wiggled back against him, and a brief pained look slipped across his face as she moved, just so and he took a sharp breath, eyes darkening to almost black before he pulled back from the edge. "It is almost one in the morning by my watch, a little too late to be patrolling, one would suppose."

"Is that your...school uniform?" Hermione interrupted, looking at Tonks clearly, taking in the outfit the metamorph had on. An outfit, that baring the fact that Hermione had taken her tie off hours ago, was the same as she herself was wearing.

Tonks glanced down at her white school shirt with a small Gryffindor crest over the left breast, the knot of her tie at half mast, and the shorter than issue, not that Hermione's was much better, red-trimmed black skirt. "Yep," she said brightly, "Wolfie and I decided that since we didn't actually go to school together we should make for lost time...."

Lupin and Harry groaned in unison as Hermione snorted, "T...too much information..." Harry managed to sputter, shaking his head as if to dislodge some piece of impertinent information. He grabbed Hermione's hand, and started off down the corridor, saying over his shoulder, "See you in the morning, Moonie, Tonks."

Lupin watched them leave, and turned back to Tonks. He opened his mouth, and froze as a sudden thought came to his mind...his eyes slowly panned back down the corridor, then to the secret passage they had most likely used. The last remaining original Marauder automatically ran through the passages and corridors of Hogwarts... "NO BLOODY WAY," he exclaimed.

"What?" Tonks asked, bemused. Lupin just bent down, and despite them being alone in the corridor, seemingly, whispered in her ear. "WOTCHER!" she shouted and flung her hands over her mouth, looking around with wide eyes. She looked down towards the corridor where Harry and Hermione had vanished, then back at Remus as a slow, slightly evil smile graced her lips. "Wolfie," she purred softly as she turned and leaned into him, stretching like a cat against his body to the accompaniment of a soft, groan from deep in his throat, "we can't let them get away with topping us now, can we?"

"But where would you suggest?"

She slipped back out of his arms, walking backwards saucily, and amazingly, not tripping over her own feet, "The Great Hall seems rather unoccupied at this time of night...especially the Head Table." Tonks spun and sprinted off, giggling like a mad third year, as Remus shrugged and followed at a more sedate pace, his hands in his pockets and a happy tune whistling from his lips.

A/N: Happy Birthday, Hermione....one day late...the owl got lost.

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