Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns anything recognisable
Author's Note: The last chapter was rather... questionable, for lack of a better term. Here's something to make up for it. (And a stolen line from Twilight, because I couldn't resist).
35. Hell Hath No Fury
It was all her fault, he decided.
She only had to bite her lip, or toss her hair, or sigh in a certain way and it would drive him utterly insane.
He stalked up to her, where she was readng in an armchair - luckily they were alone - to confront her, and he was livid.
She was surprised, to say the least, to see him approach, and was now watching him fearfully as he paced back and forth in front of her like a deranged lion, occasionally saying something inaudible.
"If you have any idea what you do to me..." he was muttering, more to himself than to her. He looked over at her, and seemed to come to a decision. "I am so going to hell for this."
Then he pulled her flush against him, and proceeded to kiss her furiously.
His mind slowly unclouded, and as soon as it did, he pulled away with a horrified look crossing his face. She was breathless and wild-eyed, watching his face fill with realisation of what he had just done.
"James," she panted, still trying to catch her breath. She looked him in the eye, a seductive, suggestive glint sparkling. "If you're going to hell, you may as well do it thoroughly."