Counting Sheep

[Augustus Rookwood]

WHY DO I TIRE OF COUNTING SHEEP
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
WHEN I'M FAR TOO TIRED TO FALL ASLEEP.

[/color][/center]

‘The anti-derivative of x^2 + 3x + 9…. from 0 to 10 times 3/20…minus 59.’ Augustus scribbled an equation down on his parchment with ink, no fear of error in his solution. He was completing his arithmacy homework in the common room, with his legs spread out across the moss-colored couch and his feet resting on the opposite arm rest from where his head was. He had socks on as usual, so as to hide the webbed toed abnormality as best as he could. His knees were slightly bent with the assignment in his lap, and August stared intently at the page. Arithmacy and Ancient Ruins were subjects he could take pride in. Call him stupid in any other subject if you want (just not to his face) but this was his domain. ‘The solution is zero.’ Zero? Augustus’s eyes looked up at the wall in front of him, tensed from both surprise and frustration. He didn’t think he was wrong, but zero was a..disappointing answer to any riddle. He expected more. Blooming idiot – this was supposed to keep him occupied for an hour? August was already finished. He wrote his name in the flowing, elongated letters he was taught to precariously to do as a child at the top of the page and then folded it, placing it neatly inside of his bag. Everything was in perfect order inside of his bag. The quills went into their holder and in the side pocket with the closed bottle of ink and other writing assortments, such as extra paper. The finished assignments went in the green folder and the unfinished went in the grey, but both folders were tied together in the main section of the bag. His personal belongings were in the front pocket and..you get the picture. It would be very hard to borrow something from Augustus without him knowing about unless you were very careful about how you returned it. The best you could do was return something in the same pocket/drawer/bag that you found it and hope that he was having an off-day. Some things you just didn’t mess with.

He laid back down on the couch with one arm behind his head and the other placed over his now closed eyes to block out the little light that sparsely illuminated the common room. Why the slytherin common room had to be so dreary, August didn’t know. Maybe he’d take a nap, fill up some time. When he closed his eyes though, he kept seeing things. Reimaging the events of the day, what might happen tomorrow, what he wished happened today. After getting all pumped up for a homework assignment that sputtered and never challenged him as it was supposed to, his brain was now on overdrive. Childishly, August kicked the pillow under his foot half way across the room. He could hear people talking upstairs and their voices seemed so loud. He wanted to talk to someone. Actually Augustus wanted someone to talk to him, but not just anyone. August wasn’t feeling like just anyone today. He would talk to Lucius but Lucius left school. He must have been looking for a Slytherin because that is all he was going to find in the common room. Still, he didn’t look hard, as his eyes were closed. Annabeth. He smiled, eyes still shut. His smile faded just a little as he thought about that sniveling second year he’d locked in the closet at the quidditch pitch. That was a couple of hours ago and Augustus had forgotten about him. He hoped he had gotten out already. August couldn’t go back there now – what if the kid was crying and crazy or passed out? Sometimes he did feel guilty for what he did. Still, if you didn’t pick on someone, it was only a matter of time before someone else picked on you. That put his mind more at his and the smile on his face returned once more.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9. He counted the steps someone took down the stairwell to his left. 8, 7, 6 . It sounded like they went back a few paces because they forgot something or they stopped to talk to another person. It was a girl; he could tell by how lightly they walked. 7, 8, 9. They had almost reached the bottom of the staircase now. It could be someone that Augustus knew. They could play a game, or something. It was pouring outside so he couldn’t be the only one bored. August pulled his hand away from his face and sat up, looking toward the stairs but he didn’t see anyone yet because the stairs were round and spiraled up so they blocked his view of anyone until they had come to the main floor of the common room. He laid back down and returned his hand over his eyes. 1 sheep, 2 sheep, 3 and 4 sheep, 5 sheep, 6 sheep, 7 and 8 sheep. This would be easier if August actually saw sheep when he was getting ready to fall asleep. ‘Zero.’ How could it be….zero. Nothing worth doing or talking about equaled zero. If he was like that, he would talk to the professor about it. Complain. But this August wouldn’t. He wouldn’t bother he’d just…..count sheep. 9 sheep, 10 sheep, 11 sheep. He was almost asleep now because he could feel the light tingling going up his limbs and his brain was becoming clouded, as cloudy as it was outside. In another moment, he would be out like a candle.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
tags;; Annabeth
music;; Fireflies - Owl City
notes;; [/quote]

[Annabeth Prewett]

The Slytherin Common room seemed to never be empty. Even during class hours, when Beth had decided to skip, or go late to first period, she’d never been alone in there. There was always the usual straggler, or someone who couldn’t really be bothered to go to History of Magic, or the like. She’d always kind of liked that, though. The fact that everybody in her house was so alike in a way, that she wasn’t looked down upon for being like this—it made her feel included, and that was always cool. In fact, she could always count on someone in Slytherin if she wanted to do something against the rules. If you asked her, she was in the coolest house at Hogwarts. Alice could say what she wanted, but no matter how daring Gryffindors claimed to be, they were always thinking about consequences, and how to protect everybody and safety and stuff. Nah. Gryffindor was lame. If anything, she figured Ravenclaws were also pretty neat, if it weren’t for their stereotyped but true, obsession with schoolwork. It wasn’t that Beth was one of those people who refused to talk to you for being in another house; no, she based her principles on people’s character, rather than house. It just so happened that most people who had good character were in her own house, but whatever. She wasn’t about to go and make friends with scum, anyway. She thought Alice was pretty dumb to go around befriending mudbloods like that Bell girl and that Orchard kid, no matter how good-looking he was. And American too, from what she’d heard. It was ridiculous, and it was staining her family’s reputation. Not that her other cousins were doing a very good job of that, too. Gideon was sweet, but also tended to surround himself with the wrong crowd.

Beth sighed as she contemplated this, fiddling with the hem of her skirt and staring at the fire in front of her, the buzz of conversation in the common room muted behind her as she got lost in her thoughts. In fact, it seemed like she was the only Prewett attempting to make a conscious effort to maintain the purity of their bloodline. Well, there was Narcissa, too, she supposed. She’d have to go with only the members of her family in Slytherin. And if that wasn’t reason enough to think Slytherin was the better house with the right morals, then she didn’t know what. It was embarrassing to know that other people around her knew that her sister hung out with that caliber of people. It also made her feel awful because Alice was her sister, and her favourite person in the world, but sometimes she couldn’t help but duck her face and hope not to be recognized in the hallway when she walked by with a friend. This train of thought was depressing. Gritting her teeth together a little, Beth pushed herself up on her elbows where she’d been lying back on one of the leather couches and looked over the back of it to the other people in the common room, trying to spot someone who could entertain her. Her eyes quickly skimmed everybody’s faces for the familiar broad shoulders and honey-colored hair that would’ve been her go-to lap, but Aiden didn’t seem to be around right now. Biting the inside of her cheek, Beth brushed her hair back over her head, looping it through her wrist before she caught sight of Augustus lounging on another of the couches. Perfect.

Pushing herself up, she swung her legs onto the floor and moved away, turning back to give a dirty look to the two girls who flung themselves onto the now-emptied couch as soon as she stood, and walked over to her friend. Who had his eyes closed. She snorted to herself and walked right up to him, turning around a little and sliding an arm around the back of his shoulders as she slid into his lap, resting her head on her hand. “You know, you make it too easy for someone to jinx your ass falling asleep like this in the middle of the common room,” she whispered into his ear, pulling back to smirk at him. “Has six years at this school taught you nothing, Augustus?

[/color]” Her other hand came up to the side of his face and pushed a strand of short hair over his forehead, smoothing it out. Augustus had always had great hair, she’d thought. And she’d always had a thing for blondes. It was just so sexy. Sometimes she wore her own hair blonde, for the sake of it. Not as blonde as his, though—his was almost white with how light it was. She told him time and time again that he should let it grow out to be a little more floppy, but so far he hadn’t listened to her. “I’m bored[/color],” Beth drawled out instead, gripping his hair a little and dropping her hand to his thigh, settling in further in his lap. “Stop falling asleep and entertain me.[/color]”[/blockquote][/blockquote][/color]

[Augustus Rookwood]

IT'S HARD TO SAY THAT I WOULD RATHER
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
STAY AWAKE WHEN I'm ASLEEP

[/color][/center]

There was nothing to do on rainy days and August hated it. Give him something – anything, short of muggle studies homework or…..okay, don’t give him anything, but give him something. A person could see August thinking even with his eyes closed, because his eyelids tensed and formed little wrinkles upon the skin. Wrinkles also masked his forehead in concentration, though why he was concentrating so hard on counting sheep very few, if any, could understand. Augustus was so bored he could not stand it. He listened to the voices of others in the common room, forming groups around the fireplace. He had taken an entire couch for himself and didn’t care in the slightest if someone wanted to sit down. When you’re first, you get first choice. Besides, any person stumbling upon August wouldn’t look at him and think they could simply take him on, especially not over anything as little as a seat for the moment. More and more people came in, he could hear them, but still August did not move. None of their voices had the timbre of his friends. He recognized a few but none of which did he want to converse with, despite being in a “slytherin” mood today. Slytherin mood meant he really wanted to speak with other Slytherins, and a Ravenclaw or a Hufflepuff just wouldn’t cut it. Why? Because they did not always understand things about you. They didn’t know of the pressures of being a member of the elite Slytherin house, or what it was like being a pureblood. Talking to them was good for other things, but when you were in a certain mood it was simply no use at all. The tingling was running across his entire body and his left foot even began to go numb; all voices cloudy and different. But, there was one voice that rang clear as a bell, and even if Augustus hadn’t paid attention to it, there was no mistaking a new weighted pressure on his lap and abdomen. That was not a sheep.

August blinked rapidly, like one does when they’ve awoken from a deep sleep and need to clear their senses. He was, by his vertical position, first looking at the ceiling, but a tilt of his head revealed Annabeth Prewett, and her location on his lap explained the pressure. A friend. Ask and ye shall receive. Of course, take and ye shall receive it sooner but, either way, you get there. His firmly pressed lips lifted into the smallest of smiles. Beth was two years younger but she didn’t act like it, and as August frequently acted like a child sometimes Beth seemed like his senior instead of the opposite. He untangled his left arm from behind his head and put his hand on the small of Annabeth’s back, his lips finishing with their brief smile and taking on what was undoubtedly a pout. His brows even hunched over his eyes to complete the picture. “But who would dare jinx me?” He asked, his voice a little hoarse. Probably a few people, in a bed full of snakes, but it wouldn’t be just anyone. Augustus didn’t like the idea of someone trying to pull a prank on him or make him look foolish. Even thinking about it got his blood boiling. A groan escaped his mouths and he pulled himself up so that he was sitting half way up with his head off of the couch cushion. He copied Beth’s movements when he reached for an end strand of her hair, wrapping it around his pointer and index fingers, the pout still evident. He wanted to hear Beth talk, no mistake, but he got a bit grouchy when he first came out of a slumber, like a child who just missed nap time. August very much liked her voice – he wished she talked more.

She was bored too. Well, who wouldn’t be with weather like this and nothing at all going on around the school? “So am I, but I can’t think of shite to do.” He liked to let his slang go free when he was with some of his friends. At events and at home he wasn’t allowed to talk that way, so he never did. Breaking the rules in August’s house, with HIS father, entailed consequences a lot different than for another teenager. It had to be worth getting clubbed on the head in order for him to break a house rule, and so few things really were. “Don’t you have any surprises up your sleeve?” August loved surprises, and Beth was an interesting girl, and if you put the two together it made a good combination. As she brushed her fingers across his hair he quipped, “I know, I need another haircut.” He said it a bit smugly, as he knew Beth had recommended he let it grow out a hundred times. Augustus never liked it long because it got in his face and he thought it looked “sloppy.” He was actually neurotic about it being short, as his hair already looked nice and trim to the average eye now. Beth was so up close and personal to him, and don’t think that he didn’t notice. He wasn’t the usual boy who would take total advantage of the situation. Most girls got exasperated with Augustus because he was always focused on something else, but he did have a bit of an interest in Beth despite himself, and her natural scent was making him look a little dreamy. Fortunately, that could easily be passed off as groggy from being so rudely awakened. Augustus often had an excuse for something or other. “Why are they staring at you?” He was looking at the two girls that were sitting on the couch where Beth was before, and they were whispering to each other and making scowling expressions. Augustus didn’t know Beth had already given them a dirty look to start things off, and that it didn’t take much for a Slytherin to get their feathers ruffled.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
tags;; Annabeth
music;; Fireflies - Owl City
notes;;

[Annabeth Prewett]

Beth loved touch. It was the first thing about her, almost, and she wouldn’t even deny it. Touch was fantastic. It was hot, it was comforting, it was reassuring and sexy and perfect. It didn’t even matter whose; at least, not amongst the select people she deemed acceptable enough for her to socialize with. Touch by itself made her feel powerful, wanted, confident; it was, next to Quidditch, the most thrilling thing she could think of. Touch anywhere, everywhere; through her hair, at her neck, on her thighs, at the small of her back where August’s hand currently rested… it was all perfect. Looking down at him while he processed the idea of somebody jinxing him while he slept, Beth kept her position, sitting comfortably across his lap and listening to him groan as he stretched himself out to sit properly on the black leather couch of the common room, his legs shifting and causing her to grab tighter around his shoulders so she wouldn’t fall off. Tilting her head a little when his finger came to wrap around a strand of her hair, Beth raised her eyebrows and turned the strand clear blue. She watched the way it blended into the bright color, wrapping around his index finger until it looked like he was holding onto water, somewhat. Like she’d said, she was bored, and when Beth was bored, one of her first instincts was to start morphing her body in various ways, trying new things out and going back to her old favorites. Her hair was one of her favorite things to play with, making it turn a hundred different colors—and having people watch while she did it? Priceless.

It wasn’t a secret, either, that Beth loved attention almost as much as she loved touch itself. She liked having eyes on her, watching her, listening to her. She liked putting on a show. Especially when those eyes followed the movements of her body or the shape of her lips while she formed words. And August? He was diligent with that. One of the many reasons why she preferred his company over plenty other boys. “I’m sure you can think of something if you try hard enough,” Beth whispered, leaning into his ear to do so and pulling her head back, allowing her hair to turn back to the chestnut brown she was born with. Her grip on his hair loosened and she dropped her hand altogether to rest over her own lap. At his question, Beth cocked her eyebrow and assessed his face. “If I had any surprises, I’d have gone through with them already instead of coming to you for ideas, wouldn’t I?

[/color]” she asked, smirking a little at him and watching the way he teased her about his hair again. She didn’t bother replying to that, and only rolled her eyes at his claim that he needed another haircut, looking around the common room for another head of hair she loved. There was that one fifth year with the gorgeous black hair, sleek and sexy, and she hummed appreciatively before turning back to Augustus at his question. “What?[/color]” she snapped a little, looking around immediately because staring had either a good connotation, or a bad connotation, and since she wasn’t being particularly sexy right now, she figured it might be the latter.

Following his line of sight, Beth looked back to the girls occupying the couch she’d been in before she’d travelled over to him, and let out a snort. They were probably irked because she hadn’t invited them over to her couch before she’d left—but girls like them annoyed her, and she wasn’t about to force herself to be nice to someone who wore her skirt down to her knees. What she said, instead, as she turned back to her friend and dropped her hand from her lap to his knee on the other side of her, stroking it a little with her thumb, was, “Haven’t you heard? You’re the latest hot spot at school. They must be so jealous I get to sit on your lap,[/color]” she said, smirking down at him and sliding the hand slung across his shoulders to rake her fingernails lightly up and down his arm. “And I can think of a thousand other more valid reasons to spark their envy.[/color]”
[/blockquote][/blockquote][/color]

[Augustus Rookwood]

YOU MIGHT THINK ME RUDE
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
BUT I WOULD JUST STAND AND STARE

[/color][/center]

August probably could have stared at the little blue strand of hair in his hand for longer than anyone felt comfortable. The changing colors were hypnotic and he was so often easily caught up in something. He would sit for long periods of time staring at certain things that caught his interest, such as a flickering candle. August would watch it grow big but then in an instant shrink, because of some insignificant breeze that had passed through the room which a human being would never notice, but was enough to nearly snuff out a candle. It was as if he was under a spell, trying to hard to understand the smallest of things. Though he wanted to, he didn’t understand people or things very well, and all the observation in the world wasn’t resolving it. He grinned despite himself when Beth changed her hair. “Imagine doing that in front of a muggle” he said wickedly, enjoying the image that was playing in his head of a muggle frozen to the spot, appalled, before they ran away screaming wildly. Augustus didn’t like muggles. Muggles were stupid. Muggles were the reason wizards and witches had to walk around on eggshells, making up excuses for “strange” happenings in the world. He didn’t talk about it often, he usually kept his thoughts about serious matters to himself but some of his closer friends clearly knew August’s opinion. “If you cut off a strand will it remain blue?” Or would it revert back to its original form? August put Beth’s hair between his index and middle finger and pretended they were scissors cutting away. “One way to find out…” But of course, he really wouldn’t dare pulling out his wand and sticking it to the test. She’d be mad at him to be sure and then he’d be alone again doing something lame like counting sheep. Counting sheep. Well, he just wasn’t telling anyone about that under pain or death.

“No, because it wouldn’t be any fun without me.” Okay that’s a lie, but it wasn’t relenting. They couldn’t go outside so that knocked out about a million different things they could have been doing. “I saw Filch’s cat the other day on the stairs, headed to the third floor. It was pacing back and forth in front of a portrait of some hideous dog. Is that not ironic?” August couldn’t have been more obviously hinting at a possible solution to their boredom than if he shouted “LET’S CHECK THIS SHITE OUT!” at the top of his lungs. August didn’t want to get into real trouble, he would hear it from Mr. Rookwood if he did, but a lot of students wandered about and whenever they were called out for it, they would simply say that the stairs moved them in transit to another destination, and when you insisted on having moving stairs in your school, you couldn’t really blame a student for that. He hadn’t a clue what was behind the portrait but he was hoping in vain that it was the much talked about Room of Requirement. If not, at least a resting place to escape the prefects for a few minutes. There was one Ravenclaw, Imogen Sauveterre, the most annoying pureblood you would ever meet, that was constantly on him about something. August didn’t know what her problem was; he would say one thing to a student, it wasn’t even that mean, and there she was suddenly, breathing down his neck and threatening house points and detention and all that other crap. He could call a student something as ridiculous as a butthead and he’d bet five galleons she’d show up out of thin air to berate him for it. So you see, he had to see what was in this room – it would prove useful.

They were definitely staring, and August kind of wanted to hulk over there and blot out their eyes. Did they not know that this was a private conversation? He hated when someone intruded or inconvenienced him in any way, even if it was from the other side of the room. He didn’t care if they were girls. And then Beth was saying something at the same time, while August was beginning with, “If they stare any longer I’m…” and then he faded out as Beth gave her reasons for the incident. Her hand was on his knee and she was stroking it. August’s eyes grew to the size of saucers. “Har har” was all he could say mockingly for a moment, knowing that she was making fun of him. Girls were never running after August because he didn’t give them the time of day when they tried to get all….romantic. August didn’t have any space for actual words because her fingers were running down his arm next. He had a crush on Beth and she probably knew it, hence the taunting now, or at least, that’s how Augustus was looking at it. He put his forehead against hers and stared into Beth’s eyes with such intensity he could almost put them out. “You’re such a bitch” he said, but with his smile you could see August wasn’t serious. The girls were likely still staring, wondering why the two decided to randomly put on a show in the middle of the common room, not that it was unusual. His hand was still on the small of Beth’s back and he rubbed it in small circles, playing along.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
tags;; Annabeth
music;; Fireflies - Owl City
notes;;

[Annabeth Prewett]

Beth scowled immediately at the mention of muggles, and she rolled her eyes, squeezing her hand around his shoulders at the thought. Of course she couldn’t do that in front of muggles. At least now the actual process of the shifting. Because muggles had to be protected from the knowledge of more evolved creatures like themselves living among them. Wizards and witches had to hide because muggles couldn’t handle the fact that they should be an extinct species already. What’s the point to life without magic? Why think of things like electricity when you can have a wand and everything you want at the tip of your fingers, at the simple flick of a piece of wood, whenever and wherever you want? It’s like someone suggesting everybody start living like cavemen. And August rubbing it in her face like that made her want to go out and slap a mudblood just for the sake of it. They needed to know their place. One day, they would, she was sure. With the rumours of what was going on outside school, she was certain it wouldn’t be long until wizards restored their proper place in society. At the top. In charge. After all, it was survival of the fittest, wasn’t it? And what could a muggle do against wizards and witches with magic?

“Of course it won’t remain blue,” she snapped a little, altered by having been thinking about the injustice of the life they lived, and tugging her hair back from his fingers when he pretended to cut it off. “You need to do your research on people like me. What I do is natural magic.

[/color]” She smirked again, then. She was so much better than normal wizards. “And spells don’t last forever, do they?[/color]” I have to concentrate to keep it that way. Shrugging, though, she leaned back against him and hummed a little as she peered at a redheaded girl over August’s shoulder, watching the way she laughed with one of her friends, and turned back to him to what he was saying about that damned cat and a portrait of sorts. Her eyebrows raised a little as she surveyed his face. “Very ironic,[/color]” she drawled, smiling a little, her eyes glinting in a way that made it clear she was agreeing with his plan, and they’d get there later when they could properly sneak out.

Her nails kept up their trail up and down his arm, lightly, feeling out the light goosebumps that slid up his skin as she went—it always happened. Boys were so predictable—and squeezed her fingers at his knee, staring at his face as his eyes widened. Again, predictable. She’d almost been expecting to get knocked off his lap—Slytherins could be assholes most of the time, when he stared right back at her and pressed their foreheads together, his hand at her back rubbing circles and she grinned a little wickedly when he started playing her game. But it was her game, so. “I’m such a bitch,[/color]” she agreed, and leaned down a little to scrape the edge of her teeth against his lower lip, nibbling lightly and tugging it towards her before letting it go. “But you like me anyway.[/color]”

[/blockquote][/blockquote][/color]

[Augustus Rookwood]

BUT I'LL KNOW WHERE SEVERAL ARE
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
IF MY DREAMS GET REAL BIZARRE

[/color][/center]

He preferred not to think about muggles but August could not always control where his mind took him. It was certainly the only unorganized aspect about him, which of course was bothersome. Muggles. If he ever saw one he would like to spit on them. Augustus didn’t care that they weren’t magical, they couldn’t help it, but he did care that he had to walk on eggshells like he was the freak in the situation. They were the people lacking, not wizards! Muggles were freaks, plain and simple. They were more strange than people missing an eyeball or who had extra fingers or…August tucked his socked feet further underneath the pillow at the end of the couch. He didn’t want to fixate on his webbed toes right now, thank you very much. Why hadn’t his parents just fixed it? Why did they decide to do one thing that wasn’t the pureblood way and choose to keep him all “unique”? Well, he was fixing that problem as soon as he came of age. Just try and stop him. August gave Beth a knowing look. She hated muggles, they both knew that. She hated muggles so much she wouldn’t even talk about them, and to be able to do what she could and have to hide it…it made Augustus want to go out and slap a mudblood too, and he didn’t even have a problem with mudbloods (just their parents). Or, muggle born, or whatever the blazes they were keen on being called. It wasn’t easy to flip between terminology all the time depending on where you were, like how you were supposed to always be nice to them at school but never at home. August was pretty sure that if he didn’t call them mudbloods in his house, his father would beat him.

“What do I need to do research for when I have you here to answer all my questions for me?” Exactly. Research on people like her, like he was really going to take the time to do that. August would leave that for the Ravenclaws. Beth tugged her hair away but it only caused August to grab hold of the back of it and run his hand down the smooth strands. Girls had so much hair, how did they keep it all…together? Straight and not all messed up about their face? Augustus was glad they did, girls looked best with those long flowing manes, especially when it belonged to Beth…..oh blimey. Oh mate, get it together. “Some do,” he mumbled, just to try and save face. Some spells really did last forever unless you countered them with another, but that just wasn’t typical. It definitely didn’t seem to fit her kind of magic but he wasn’t completely wrong. Besides, he was two years Beth’s senior so he was smarter. He rolled his eyes immediately, August’s hands still combing through her hair. Okay so no, he probably wasn’t, but don’t mention that. He liked their idea of searching and inspecting the dog painting. There was something that was always off about it but he couldn’t place a finger on it. With Beth’s help it surely wouldn’t take long to figure it out. He was already pretty sure that there was a room behind it, because there had been rumors Rita Skeeter held a party there. Not that he was invited.

Jeez, way to send a boy reeling. A boy who was supposed to be all good and not have a lot of experience and refrain and….did Beth just squeeze his leg? Hands woman, hands. August still found himself going along with it and more than that, it wasn’t difficult to do so. She was a mature fourth year and Augustus an immature sixth year so really they almost met somewhere in the middle, he justified to himself. He was so moved on from the girls sitting on the couch, but he wasn’t sure he liked this game. Beth was just being a tease. I mean he liked it, but he did not….never mind. Then Beth’s mouth was grabbing his lip and cloud nine could not hold August down. ”Temptress”, he continued in low tones, half pouting and half coaxing her on. But, you give a guy an inch and he is supposed to take a mile so he kissed Beth lightly square on the lips, a little bit entertained by their public display. It wasn’t a very unusual sight in their common room but it still never failed to make the first years squirm. August liked to make the first year squirm, he liked it very much.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
tags;; Annabeth
music;; Fireflies - Owl City
notes;;