It was on the last night before leaving Grimmauld Place that their circumstances took an unexpected turn. Harry was always slower falling asleep than ...on, and was having trouble sleeping at all over Ron’s snores that night (yes, Ron really did snore quite a lot actually), so Harry had gotten out of bed and headed for the kitchen, hoping that some of Mrs. Weasley’s excellent fried chicken was still in the fridge. But he’d stopped short of opening the door because he heard voices coming from. Anyone in the right place in the store could have seen us; him leaning over the sink, mouth open and eyes closed, me leaning in from behind with my hand under the back of his kilt.He shuddered again, now fully hard in my hand. I finally let go and stood up. He turned around quickly, pinning my shoulders to the wall. He leaned in until our faces were so close I could feel his breath on my cheek. "What the hell was that?" he whispered furiously."S... Sorry," I whispered, frightened by his anger.. More

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