The bell above the door rang when the door opened. Rosmerta, who'd been falling asleep on the counter, awoke with a start.

"Good morning," she called out, rubbing at her cheeks to seem somewhat awake.

She grinned when she saw the tousled hair that belonged to her regular, James Potter. Sirius Black was there, as well. Predictable. There could never be one without the other; they were inseparable.

"Good morning, Madam," said James, smiling that cheeky grin of his that seemed to pierce her soul.

She felt breathless for a second, trying to remember the way she'd been in her seventh year when he was sorted. He was young. He was in school. He should not be able to make her heart race and her palms go sweaty. It was humiliating.

"Please," she said. "Call me Rosmerta."

James nodded, the way he always did, but Rosmerta wasn't convinced. Why he seemed to like her formal title so much, she didn't know.

Then again, why did she want him to call her by her given name so badly, anyway?

"Two butterbeers, please." Black piped up, and Rosmerta attempted to hide her blush. She had forgotten he was even there, lost as she was in James' eyes. Speaking of his eyes, Rosmerta adored them. In some light, they appeared green, and in others they seemed dark enough to rival shadows. Very seductive, she thought.

Good god, she was disgusting.

They struck up a conversation as she bustled about behind the counter, trying to find clean tankards for their hot butterbeer. It was a bit embarrassing the way she knew their order inside and out, though it really shouldn't have been, given how often they frequented her little pub.

She placed their smoking drinks in front of them, getting out a washcloth to wipe down the counter. "So," she said, even though she didn't strictly have to talk to them. "What's got the two of you down here so early?"

They exchanged guilty looks and Rosmerta realized there was a secret to be discovered there. A pang of envy coursed through her, though she did her best to smother it; how come Sirius Black got to know everything about James Potter when she couldn't?

And then she remembered that she had even less claim on James than Black did, and felt humiliated all over again. It was rather embarrassing the way her mind went possessive about James, despite knowing she was perceived as a barmaid to him and nothing more. A dark blush crept up her cheeks, burning them, and she hoped the dim light of the pub hid it well enough.

"Well," said James after their silent conversation ended. He answered her question, "We were around the village and decided to drop in." He winked saucily at her, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. "You know how we love your hospitality… Rosmerta."

Her breath caught and she couldn't move, think, or breathe for a few seconds.

"Excuse me," she squeaked out finally. At that, she ran to the bathroom to splash some cold water on her face. There was something seriously wrong with her if he could make her feel so jumpy and squirmy by whispering her name. She had to giggle into her hands, nervous energy finding some way out, when she remembered the look on his face as he said the words. All intense energy and sexy charm.

Sweet Merlin.

Rosmerta felt the need to jump up and down like a schoolgirl, which made her blush again. A look at the mirror displayed her features spread apart by a huge grin she couldn't get rid of. Her cheeks were pink and she was all but buzzing with energy.

What was going on with her?

She took deep breaths, holding them in and letting them out a few seconds later. She washed her face with cool water and tried to regulate her heart rate.

After a few minutes, she had more or less returned to normal. She had also remembered that she'd left two of Hogwarts' most notorious troublemakers in her pub... alone. She didn't yet have the courage to rush back out, but a blanket of dread had begun to smother her with worry. What if they set fire to the building, or filched bottles of firewhiskey?

Before she could leave the bathroom in a panic, the door opened.

A gasp left her mouth when she recognized James, and her hand flew to her heart.

James Potter was in a bathroom with her. Alone.

She had to be dreaming.

"You-You're in the girl's bathroom," she managed.

"Yes." He said, approaching her with sure steps that displayed his self-assuredness. His blatant display of confidence was intimidating and – dare she admit it – terribly attractive.

She was backed into the counter, where she felt flustered upon realizing he was still approaching and she had nowhere to go.

"You know," he admitted. "You're not very discreet."

The red-hot wave of mortification hit her hard, and she tried not to stammer. "What-What are you doing? What do you mean?"

He shrugged, "Have you ever wondered why my friends and I come here for hours on end – even when we're not supposed to be out from the castle?"

She had wondered. She had wondered and hoped it was because of her. But of course, that was ridiculous.

"Have you ever wondered why I – on many occasions – have invited you to sit with us?"

Please say that it's because you find me attractive, please, please, please. She couldn't stop her wayward thoughts, though they made her want to fall through a hole in the ground.

He took another step closer, so close that if she reached out, she could grab hold of his robes. If she did that, it wouldn't be hard to pull him in and press a searing kiss to his lips. She could hop up onto the counter to avoid the height difference problems-

"Have you ever wondered why I try my best to look as collected and mature as I possibly can when I'm here?"

"Common courtesy?" She asked, trying for levity. "As in: it's impolite to set fire to a nice establishment in Hogsmeade?"

He chuckled, and Rosmerta's heart went at double pace when she noticed how close he'd gotten. She could feel the heat of his body, and each chuckle let out a puff of air against her lips.

"Nope. It's because I want to impress you," he said.

She stood and considered that, a feat considering she was less than ten centimetres from the object of her desires. A small suspicion rose within her at the unlikely confession.

"Are you trying to humiliate me; get me to say something that you could laugh about later?"

He gave her a searching look, one that was burning with intensity and making her swoon inwardly. "Do I look like I'm joking?"

Before she could answer that, they were connected at the mouth. And at the chest, and then they were fervently pushing and pulling at each other, trying to get as close as possible. He looped one arm around her and helped her up against the counter. Supported by his strong arms and the cool marble behind her, Rosmerta wrapped her legs around his waist.

Tongue met tongue and teeth clashed as their violent kissing escalated to new heights. Time passed, or maybe it didn't. Rosmerta didn't care, because she was kissing James Potter. He was everything she could ever have imagined, rough without being overbearing, and oh-so sweet. He had impeccable technique as well, she had to admit.

His Quidditch-roughened hands stroked the side of her face, moving back to tangle in her long hair. He pulled slightly to expose her neck, lowering himself to press kisses there, as well. She played with his hair, as well, wondering how anyone could live without feeling the exquisite softness. He returned to her lips, biting on the lower one. She moaned into the kiss, tugging at his hair and feeling as though her nerve endings would spontaneously combust at any given moment.

When they finally broke apart, touching at every point but their mouths, James leaned his head into the crook of her neck.

He was breathing hard, each exhalation tickling her throat.

As he pulled away, making Rosmerta want to pull him back and keep him there, he said, "I should get going. I'm late as it is for classes."

She nodded, reality reasserting itself. "Right. Classes. Wouldn't want McGonagall to dock points," she said, trying to compose herself but not quit accomplishing that.

He nodded, smiling a lopsided smile that made her insides melt.

Just as he made to leave the bathroom, he turned back, "I'll see you again soon?" The question was loaded but she nodded anyway.

"Yes, I hope to see you soon,"

And then he was gone, leaving a thoroughly kissed Rosmerta in his wake. A very happy Rosmerta, in fact. She thought she might just sit in the bathroom for the rest of the day, maybe the rest of her life, as well…

Well, this was an interesting pairing, I have to say... It was written for Dear. Dark. Destiny's 3rd Annual Can You Write a Romance? Challenge!

My prompt was humiliate, and I was supposed to use the word at least three times in a story with more than 800 words. Thanks for reading!