Mystic

(Reviews Greatly Desired.)

Chapter 8 - Pig Latin

Cassie practically skipped down the stairs leading to the Great Hall, buoyed by the success of her occulemency lesson. She was looking forward to seeing George during dinner, not to mention the chance to warn her fellow potions' classmates about the impending pop quiz.

She spied George and Fred further along the table chatting with Lee Jordan. Cassie stopped first to apprise the Gryffindor Fifth Years about the potions test before joining George at the other end of the table.

"You're in a chipper mood," Fred noted, looking up from his chicken pie and pumpkin juice.

"Missed you at lunch," commented George nonchalantly. He watched her take the seat opposite from him.

Cassie grinned, as she reached for the basket of hot buttered rolls. "Missed me? Really?"

"Well, more in the sense of 'didn't see you', not the 'longing for you' kind of 'missed you'" George explained. He grinned wickedly across the bread basket. "Then again if you feel the need to comfort me, I know of a place dark and secluded where we can go." He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

"Ix-nay on the unnel-tay," Fred said in pig latin. "Angelina and I were planning on a visit there after dinner. She's promised to help me with my Charms homework." Fred punctuated his statement with a jab towards George with his steak knife.

George neatly blocked Fred's jab with a saucer. "I don't think so. I'm pretty sure the tunnel will be free this evening since you copied my charms homework last night, and since you still owe me for the time I tested out the formula for the Jolly Jock Itching Powder."

"Ohhhh! Definitely more information than we needed," said Ron, taking the seat next to George.

"That was a tough one," conceded Fred. "Alright, but that puts us square. Tunnel's yours for the night. I'd better go break the news to Angelina. Tell her that the tutoring session is off." Fred grabbed a muffin and rose to leave.

"What were you two babbling about?" Cassie questioned. "Was that some kind of twin-speak or were the rest of us supposed to understand what you were talking about?"

"Cassie, love, you wound me." George jabbed an imaginary dagger through his heart. "I have just procured for us the finest and, more importantly, most secluded accommodations for this evening."

"Accommodations?" she questioned.

"You do want to continue our research, don't you? Somewhere we won't be disturbed." George rose from the table and curled his finger in a motion for her to follow him, grinning wickedly.

"Well, it would be unfair to stop in the middle of our research, especially since we haven't explored all of the available options," she agreed. Her appetite for food replaced with a desire for something else, Cassie followed George from the Great Hall and up several staircases. He paused beside a statue of a hump-backed, one-eyed witch and held up one hand. Cassie touched his palm lightly and trailed her fingers along his life line.

George closed his eyes at her touch and breathed deeply to slow his heart rate. It was like that every time he touched her. His pulse quickened, his blood pressure rose, and he ached to hold her. Lee Jordan and even Fred wondered why he would risk the revelations of disaster that they knew that Cassie was capable of, but George knew he couldn't give up the rush he received every time they touched. He was becoming addicted to the high that she gave him.

He opened his eyes and wondered what vision was unfolding inside her head. Then he 'heard' her inside his mind. "What did you want so badly to show me?" she teased. He grabbed her hand more firmly and raised his wand with his other hand. Tapping the statue with his wand, George whispered, "Dissendium." The statue slid aside revealing a dark tunnel.

George pulled Cassie into the tunnel and darkness enveloped them as the witch slid back into place. The blackness was so complete that she couldn't see a thing despite the fact that she knew George was standing mere inches away from her.

George took her other hand in his and raised them both up to his chest. "I'm right here," he said, sensing her disorientation.

When she started to run a hand across his chest and into his shirt, he moved both her hands away and pressed them back against the rock wall of the tunnel. "Uh-uh…not yet."

Leaning closer, he began to kiss her lightly, running his tongue along her lips, and when she parted them, he tentatively darted her tongue inside. The taste of him enveloped her. All of Cassie's senses were focused on him. His fingers entwined with hers, he pressed against her as they leaned back against the rock wall. She could feel the warmth of his body through his thin shirt. She could feel him subtly rubbing against her. It excited her to know that she was the cause of the hardness she felt pressed against her stomach. She could hear him in her mind, though for the last few seconds, their communication hadn't been anymore organized than "Yes…", "there…", "More…", and "Oh My God."

She could feel George carefully breaking the kiss so they could both come up for air. He released one of her hands so he could touch her cheek. "Maybe total privacy isn't such a good thing for us," he said, rubbing against her again. He pushed a knee between her thighs, and she gladly welcomed the pressure.

"Maybe it isn't," she agreed, turning to kiss the palm of his hand. He slid his hand down the front of her shirt, stopping at the first button.

"Is this the bra that itches," he asked, manipulating the tiny mother-of-pearl button with ease.

"Yes," Cassie whispered, her breath catching in her throat.

"Can't have that," he said, unfastening the subsequent buttons quickly. Cassie wasn't sure if she was going to be able to withstand the sensations flooding her senses as George ran his hand along the skin just above the top of her bra. She looked into his green eyes and saw the question there, the petition for permission. To heighten the experience even more, she also felt his desire in her mind.

Now, where as it might be easy to verbally deny to a person how badly you want something, when the person you're with can read your mind, and therefore your desire, then it becomes impossible to say 'no'. He could hear her permission in his mind, even if she had been able to force herself to say 'no'.

George flicked open the front closure on Cassie's bra and slipped both hands inside her shirt. He leaned down and kissed her again. She moaned into his mouth as he cupped her breast and teased her nipples with his thumbs.

At that moment, Cassie was startled to hear the scraping of the witch statue as it opened. Then Fred's voice calling, "Sorry to interrupt. We've got a minor emergency."

George turned, shielding Cassie with his body. "Someone had better be bleeding," he snarled.

"It's Lee," Fred explained. "He ate a cream and turned into a canary, but hasn't turned back." Fred shrugged. "It's a bit of a setback, I'm afraid, and he's making a huge mess in the Common Room. We're running out of newspapers to put down on the floor."

When Fred had withdrawn, George turned to find that Cassie had already re-buttoned her shirt.

"It's just as well," he sighed. "I don't think my heart could have withstood the pressure too much longer." He kept a small but noticeable distance between the two of them. He realized he missed the contact of her mind, and wished that he didn't have to ask the next question out loud. It was so much better just being able to hear the truth in her mind. "Any regrets?"

Cassie grinned. "Only that we had to stop."

George smiled, relieved that she wasn't having second thoughts about their intimate encounter. He was going to have to have a serious talk with Fred and Lee when got back to the Common Room. They obviously didn't know the definition of "Emergency."

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