fourteen;

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This chapter contains mature themes: 18+. Readers discretion is advised.
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THE RAIN continued to pelt the windows in the Gryffindor tower, harder and louder until we had to raise our voices to talk to eachother.

Wide eyes as I look around, I can't help but notice how different the atmosphere of their common room is compared to Slytherin's.

The roaring red fire, stuffed red armchairs with pillows that look like the comfiest thing in the world right now. An exceptional view of the forbidden forest, mahogany staircases that lead to the dormitories, walls decorated with crimson and gold accents with portraits of the Gryffindors that came before them.

At the moment it's isolated. Only George, Fred, Lee and myself occupying the empty space in the centre before they run up the stairs. Pushing and shoving each other until they're out of sight, a loud *SLAM* of a door signalling a their exit.

"I have to go." I said, realizing that students will be arriving soon "I'm..I'm not supposed to be in here. Do you know what will happen if one of the house heads finds me here?"

"You can't walk all the way back down to the dungeons." says Fred, stepping in front of me to block my path.

"Okay then apparate me down, I can't stay here."

"Your clothes are wet so you're in a pissy mood. I'm not bringing you anywhere." he adds before making his way to the stairs that I presume lead to the dormitories. "Come get changed and I'll walk you back."

I watch him run up the steps two at a time, still standing in my spot in the common room, unsure of what to do. At the top of the staircase he comes back into view, raising his eyebrows at me.

Crossing my arms to my chest, defeated, I let out a sigh.

"I'm not a pissy mood." I say, cocking my head back to lookup at him before I make my way up the stairs and follow him at a distance to his dorm.

When I reach the door, he is already inside shoving his bag into the dark brown wardrobe.

Standing in the entrance of the door I advance in, I still can't believe how different our houses are decorated.

"Make yourself at home." Fred says before lighting a fire in the central stove in the room.

Taking a seat on one of the four beds, trying not to sink in my seat too much that I'll leave a wet mark, I watch as he tosses me a pair of joggers and a green jumper with a large 'F' embroidered on the front.

"Got anything else." I ask laughing under my breath.

Without missing a beat he mutters a quick "Nope." and turns back to pull out clothes of his own.

About to part my lips and respond back, I'm quickly hushed by the view before me.

He's peeling off his shirt. Oh my God. Fred is peeling off his shirt.

His back faces me as the thin wet fabric is torn off his body, leaving a wet residue on his freckled skin. His shoulder and back muscles clench as he rips the shirt over his head, I can't seem to take my eyes off of him.

I watch his body turn to face me, my eyes entranced on his beater body and the v-line peeking out of the jeans hanging lowly on his hips.

"See something you like Rowle?"

My eyes trail up the front of his torso until I meet his eyes "You don't know me." I say, picking up the stack of clothes, standing now.

"Of course I know you." he spits back, that cocky smile of his never disappearing off his face "I know you're intrigued by me, entranced even."

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