VIOLET (A Harry Potter Universe Fanfiction)

1.

"I expected it to be more like a garden shed," she said. "Your dad did this?"

"Yeah," he said. He sat down on the couch, which felt very wrong in his regular body, and he shut his eyes, because he didn't want to watch her start to picture the things that went on in here.

"It's nice," said Caiti. "He made it comfortable."

Even with his eyes closed, he felt so unsettled. Her voice in this space was all wrong. She wasn't supposed to be around him when he was here. She was supposed to be as far away as she could get, where he couldn't hurt her if something went wrong.

He felt the couch cushions sink beside him as she sat down, felt her hand on his knee.

"We don't have to stay in here," she said softly. "If you want to go."

"Like I said, it's just... not full of the best memories."

But he made no move to leave. He felt stuck there. He felt like her hand had pinned him to his seat and his heart had started pounding.

"Do you want a better one?" she asked.

Marlowe sank further down, leaning back against the cushions. He was careful not to open his eyes. "What does that mean?"

Then Caiti's hand lifted from his leg and moved to his jaw. Her thumb brushed across the bone and then over his lips and he almost opened his eyes by accident, but then she was kissing him and his stomach jolted and his hands went to her sides and then into her hair.

He laid back, pulling her with him and only let himself think about her warmth and her weight on top of him and not about the other nights he had spent on this couch. He only let himself think about how confidently she kissed him and how she suddenly seemed older and more grown up than she had even just a few days ago.

He felt hot and jittery, and every time Caiti's lips came back down on his, he felt like he'd forgotten how to breathe. The next time she pulled back, he opened his eyes and they looked at each other, faces so close he couldn't focus on any one feature.

"Next time, you think about this," she whispered.

They kissed for what felt like a long time, on and on until Marlowe was nervous he wouldn't be able to control himself, so he turned his head, whispered, "Wait, give me a second," then pulled her down into a hug, hand twisting into her hair, and shut his eyes again. Another day, he might have tested the limits a little. But not here. Not in this place.

He could feel her heartbeat against his own chest and his whole body buzzed. She was here. She was home. She was not leaving again. He thought these things over and over to himself, but they did nothing to calm him down.

Caiti's hand was on his shoulder and he was so aware of each individual finger right there next to the scar marking the spot where he'd been bitten. He tried to think about that instead. That would cool him down, he hoped.

She slid off him, wedging herself between the back of the couch and his body. He adjusted, so she could lay her head on his chest, his arm beneath her.

He tried to pay attention to the rate of her breathing, to sync up his own inhales and exhales with hers. Her hand moved from his shoulder to his side, her warm palm pressed up against his bare skin where his t-shirt had ridden up when she'd moved.

"Oh god," he muttered as his stomach lurched again. How was he supposed to think about anything but her when she was this close?

He opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling he had stared at once a month, usually unable to relax enough to sleep. It was then that something crossed his mind that made him shiver even though he had been hot just a second ago. He felt goosebumps prickling his skin.

"You're cold," Caiti said.

"No. I just thought of something. Well I remembered something I thought about before."

Caiti kept quiet, waiting for him to continue.

"It's about your research," he said. "Something you could try."

Caiti lifted her head up.

"I didn't want to say anything, because I don't know if I want to do it."

"I would never make you do anything you don't want to," she said.

And she sounded so certain, so sure that nothing could tempt her enough to push him to do it, that he continued, but he squeezed his eyes closed again so he wouldn't have to watch her think about the possibilities of what he was about to say in case he couldn't go through with it.

"You remember when you helped me with antidotes?" he said. "My seventh year."

"Yeah."

"And you said sometimes you have to put the poison in the potion so the ingredients know what to attack."

Caiti put her head back down. "I remember."

"A while ago I was thinking if I... well it's being bitten that infects you. I guess there's like... venom or something. I don't know. I was thinking if I bit something when I was... you know... if I bit something that would catch it, then you could... I don't know, you could experiment with it or something. I don't even know if that would work."

Caiti was quiet while she thought this over. He could tell she didn't want to say anything in case it made him feel like he had to do it.

He really didn't want to, but it was an idea he had pondered more than once, and he did think there was something to it.

"I wouldn't make you do something you don't want to," Caiti said again, like she had read his mind.

"I'm just afraid I'll— it sounds weird," he interrupted himself. "I'm afraid it'll feel good."

His voice sounded too loud in that small space and he wished he hadn't said it. Still, he went on.

"I'm afraid I'll want to do it again."

"Then don't," said Caiti.

"But do you think it would help you?" Marlowe asked.

"I don't know," she answered. "Probably."

Marlowe swallowed. "I'll think about it." He smoothed his hand across her back and took a slow breath. "Let's go inside," he said. "I don't want to be in here anymore."

They sat up and before they left, Caiti kissed him one more time, soft and slow. Marlowe was amazed by her.