𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗷𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗿𝗼𝗴𝗲𝗿, james potter

˗ˋ 20

CHAPTER TWENTY
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-: sixth year :-

── IN WHICH THEY HIDE

. . .

There was adrenaline running through Rosie's veins that hadn't be there for what seemed like years. Or at the very least, weeks, seeing as it had certainly been present there during the five days filled with illegal Quidditch matches, parties and endeavours that kept her far away from her mother - actions that, of course, ended up with her staying with her Aunt Rosmerta and running away from once famed Professor of Transfiguration after having broken into a school she didn't go to. 

And she certainly welcomed it.

James's hand had wrapped around her's as they left the general vicinity of what Rosie recognised within the school, guiding her through the labyrinth of hallways he was accustomed to with the knowledge of someone who had created a map of such and memorised it. His touch was comforting despite the mess they were in and she was so sure that the thrill she felt was reflected within him too.

"Do you actually know where you're taking me?" Rosie questioned through huffs and puffs of air as she tried to catch her breath, despite the fact that they were very much still on the move, taking on yet another staircase. "Because it really just seems like we're going floor from floor." 

"We're not just going anywhere." James rolled his eyes as he looked back at her, tugging her out of the way of a random statue. "Huh, could've sworn that wasn't here last week. We'll have to update it." 

"Update what, exactly?" 

"Never you mind." There was a glint in his eye when their gazes met. "Come on - I do know where we're going, and you'll just have to find out." He tugged her forward without another glance back to see how far away Professor McGonagall was from them. She wasn't quite in sight and he took this as a good sign, turning away from the staircase they had reached and instead down the corridor to the left of it. 

That should hopefully throw her off their case; they had been taking every set of stairs they had come to thus far and by breaking the pattern was perhaps what would help them. James had planned  this; he was more than accustomed to running away from his head of house in times of trouble and well, quite frankly, he was usually doing it with three others instead of one. 

And usually they were on the look out for a larger classroom for them to hide in,  but James was more than comfortable in finding a roomy cupboard or other small area for them to hang out in. And with that turning down a hallway it gave them that option and as they turned another corner, he found one and they finally came to a stop. 

"Where-" But Rosie didn't quite have time to ask any more questions or interrogate him on his skills of findding an adequate place for them to hide out until the party that night, because he was pulling her... behind a tapestry. And even then, when they were covered in the heavy fabric and left completely alone, she didn't have a chance to say anything because James had pulled her flush against his side, a hand reaching up to cover her mouth.

She didn't protest, her eyes wide as they adjusted to the darkness and came up to look at him, the expression on his face only a little easy to make out; he was smirking - because of course he was - and with his hand still clamped over her mouth to ensure her silence she was pressed against the cold stone wall behind her, etches and grooves not all too uncomfortable, and James Potter was reaching down and pressing kisses to the curve of her jaw, the thumb belonging to the palm currently stifling any noise she dared used to tilt her head upwards, allowing him easier access to the already decorated area that had so skillfully been covered up by a scarlet and gold scarf for that morning. 

It was during this that footsteps could heard outside of the small alcove they had hidden, the restricted mumbles of noises that Rosie had accidentally-on-purpose been letting out throughout the entirety of James's plan to apparently get them course turned into a squeak but ultimately falling quiet. There was a mutter of disatisfaction that sounded all-too like the woman to which Rosie had flaunted her presence before on innumerable occasions since arriving in the school the day before. 

James did not falter in his movements.

And when the sound of Professor McGonagall had passed, Rosie was quick to act against this, pulling his hand away from his mouth like it was something denying her of air and hit his shoulder, all too gently. "You idiot - you could have gotten us caught." She gasped, watching as he stood up tall and looked down at her, having lit his wand at some point during the entire... interaction and now she could see his face in the cold glow of light.

He was still bloody smirking.

His head tilted to the side, glasses lopsided and hair a curled mess, a mere ghost of what it had been half an hour before as they left the changing rooms for the Great Hall. "Yeah, but I didn't, did I?"

And all too suddenly, Rosie became aware of the position she was in, sandwiched between him and the wall and a hand oh-so-conveniently placed on her jaw. It seemed stupid, really, to continue this any further, and in a quick few movements she had reached up and placed a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him down into a kiss.

It seemed that, really, McGonagall finding out about her being in the castle had only really granted her one thing; privacy in a dark corner of the castle with the boy she had been helping move on.

And Rosie was really, really good at helping with that.

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