The Gryffindor boys’ dormitory was quiet except for the soft crackling of the fireplace and the rhythmic breathing of James, and you tangled up with him on his bed. His glasses were discarded somewhere on the floor, long forgotten as his lips moved hungrily against yours, fingers skimming over your waist, pulling you even closer.

You weren’t supposed to be here. Well.. you are, but not like this.

You had lied, told your boyfriend you were heading to Hogsmeade with friends. But instead, you were here. With James.

James pulled away slightly, his breath warm against your lips. "You're trouble, you know that?" he murmured, his usual cocky grin softened by the dim firelight.

You only hummed in response, fingers threading through his messy hair, tugging slightly so he let out a low chuckle. "He doesn't have to know, he won't know..." James whispered before capturing your lips again, lost in the thrill of the moment of stolen time, stolen touches, and secrets whispered between kisses.