“So how do you know the groom-to-be?” a soft voice asked.
Neville, who’d been sipping his drink and surreptitiously checking out the fit blokes Ron had invited to his stag party, jumped.
“Sorry.” The man, a stocky redhead, smiled ruefully. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” He held out a hand. “Charlie.”
Shaking his hand, Neville smiled back, unable to resist Charlie’s easy, open expression. “Neville.”
“Longbottom?” Charlie asked. “Well, well. The hero of Gryffindor.” He clung to Neville’s hand, squeezing gently.
Neville felt himself flush. “And you’re obviously a Weasley.”
Charlie laughed. “Yeah, it’s not as if I can hide that, what with this hair.” He ran his free hand though dark red curls. “So, where have they been keeping you?”
Neville laughed. “In the garden, I suppose. I teach Herbology at Hogwarts, I’m Madam Sprout’s assistant.”
“If you’d been my Herbology professor, I’d know a lot more about plants,” Charlie said, his thumb beginning to caress Neville’s palm.
Neville swallowed hard. “Oh, I bet you did fine anyway.”
“I managed.” Charlie leaned in close to Neville. “Right. Now that introductions are out of the way, what do you say we go someplace and chat privately?” The slow and appreciative once-over he gave Neville cast no doubt as to his intentions.
Neville blinked. “That’s…bold.”
“Too bold?” Charlie asked, watching Neville carefully. “Because I’ve spent a long time studying behaviour, and you look bored. In fact, you remind me of a dragon about to take to the skies in search of a mate.”
Charlie was right. He had been bored. Neville licked his lips, tempted. “Do humans usually act like dragons?”
“Some,” Charlie whispered. “In my experience, a wild creature’s wild no matter what species.”
Neville’s eyes locked with Charlie’s. The heated promise he saw there made him shiver and, in the end, proved too difficult to resist. “All right. But we have to be quick. I promised Ron I’d do a toast.”
Charlie grinned in triumph, and a moment later Neville was being adeptly manoeuvred out of the tent and into the cool night air.
“Do you have a place in mind?” Neville asked.
Charlie glanced at him, his smile devilish. “Our dad has this handy storage shed that should prove useful—”
“Ah,” said Neville, and within moments he was being drawn into the shed.
It was dark, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. There were bits and bobs everywhere, but there was also a table and a worn but comfortable-looking chair in front of it.
Charlie was still clinging to Neville’s hand, drawing him along. When he sat in the chair, and pulled Neville into his lap, Neville adjusted quickly. “There,” Charlie said. “Now we can get comfortable.”
Neville felt anything but comfortable, but before things could start to feel awkward, Charlie curved a hand around his neck, drawing his face down.
Stealing Time
~
“So how do you know the groom-to-be?” a soft voice asked.
Neville, who’d been sipping his drink and surreptitiously checking out the fit blokes Ron had invited to his stag party, jumped.
“Sorry.” The man, a stocky redhead, smiled ruefully. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” He held out a hand. “Charlie.”
Shaking his hand, Neville smiled back, unable to resist Charlie’s easy, open expression. “Neville.”
“Longbottom?” Charlie asked. “Well, well. The hero of Gryffindor.” He clung to Neville’s hand, squeezing gently.
Neville felt himself flush. “And you’re obviously a Weasley.”
Charlie laughed. “Yeah, it’s not as if I can hide that, what with this hair.” He ran his free hand though dark red curls. “So, where have they been keeping you?”
Neville laughed. “In the garden, I suppose. I teach Herbology at Hogwarts, I’m Madam Sprout’s assistant.”
“If you’d been my Herbology professor, I’d know a lot more about plants,” Charlie said, his thumb beginning to caress Neville’s palm.
Neville swallowed hard. “Oh, I bet you did fine anyway.”
“I managed.” Charlie leaned in close to Neville. “Right. Now that introductions are out of the way, what do you say we go someplace and chat privately?” The slow and appreciative once-over he gave Neville cast no doubt as to his intentions.
Neville blinked. “That’s…bold.”
“Too bold?” Charlie asked, watching Neville carefully. “Because I’ve spent a long time studying behaviour, and you look bored. In fact, you remind me of a dragon about to take to the skies in search of a mate.”
Charlie was right. He had been bored. Neville licked his lips, tempted. “Do humans usually act like dragons?”
“Some,” Charlie whispered. “In my experience, a wild creature’s wild no matter what species.”
Neville’s eyes locked with Charlie’s. The heated promise he saw there made him shiver and, in the end, proved too difficult to resist. “All right. But we have to be quick. I promised Ron I’d do a toast.”
Charlie grinned in triumph, and a moment later Neville was being adeptly manoeuvred out of the tent and into the cool night air.
“Do you have a place in mind?” Neville asked.
Charlie glanced at him, his smile devilish. “Our dad has this handy storage shed that should prove useful—”
“Ah,” said Neville, and within moments he was being drawn into the shed.
It was dark, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. There were bits and bobs everywhere, but there was also a table and a worn but comfortable-looking chair in front of it.
Charlie was still clinging to Neville’s hand, drawing him along. When he sat in the chair, and pulled Neville into his lap, Neville adjusted quickly. “There,” Charlie said. “Now we can get comfortable.”
Neville felt anything but comfortable, but before things could start to feel awkward, Charlie curved a hand around his neck, drawing his face down.