I don't own the characters, or Hogwarts. Enjoy. Inspired by Baby Mama Drama. Set in sixth year. Disregards Half-Blood Prince, but has some mentions of situations from Deathly Hallows. P.S. Voldemort is dead, Dumbles isn't though. P.S.S. Don't complain about the O.O. . I know about it, I wrote this.

Up Close

I looked around the quiet library one more time, just to verify that I was in fact, the only one in here besides Potter. I smiled slightly as I stood up in my chair and approached the sleeping Gryffindor. Potter had fallen asleep studying for the end of the year exams, with his head turned to the side, and I couldn't resist the urge. I've always wanted to touch it up close, and since the Gryffindor and I aren't exactly on speaking terms, this may very well be my only opportunity.


Inhaling through her nose to make less noise, she softly walked up to the table, and knelt on the floor beside it, hand slowly reaching out. Before she touched the jagged scar she looked at his face to make sure he was asleep. Satisfied with what she saw, she pressed her soft fingers against the scar that had caused so much trouble. Her fingers lightly caressed the lightning bolt scar, as she muttered. "What a horrible life you've led."

Her eyes drifted down, and she found herself staring into twin pairs of smoldering emeralds. She screeched and fell backwards, hitting her head against the table behind her. Potter sat up and rubbed his eyes, before standing up and offering her a hand. "Are you okay?"

One hand rubbing the back of her head, and the other reaching out to tentatively take his, she allowed him to help pull her up. "Yeah," she muttered calmly, "you just scared the hell out of me."

He smirked and raised an eyebrow. "How do you think I felt? Waking up to a Slytherin who suggested I be turned over to Voldemort touching my face without the intent of hurting me."

She blushed and looked down. "I'm sorry about that Potter. By that time I was just so scared, and-."

His thumb started rubbing comforting circles into the hand that he still held. "I know." They were silent for a few minutes, standing there, with him holding her hand. He suddenly looked up at her, and their eyes met. "Why were you touching my scar?"

She blushed. "I've just always wanted to see it up close. To feel the scar that was the result of Voldemort attacking you as a baby."

"Have you satisfied the urges? Because I don't know if I can handle waking up again with you randomly touching my face."

She raised her free hand, and softly touched the scar once more, before pulling her hand back. "I'm sorry." She turned to walk away, but the fingers tightened around her wrist.

She was pulled against his body, and soft lips pressed against hers. She stood frozen, and when the boy pulled back her hand shot up to her lips, to see if she was imagining the tingling. Harry gave her a sheepish grin, and ran his fingers through his hair. "Sorry Pansy, I've just always wanted to kiss a Slytherin."

So, what did you think?