Susan had already claimed the back row by the time Adrian entered the History of Magic classroom on the tenth of September.
Her rucksack occupied the space beside the desk, while two thick textbooks had been positioned on the floor to block the central aisle’s view beneath the table.
Professor Binns drifted through the blackboard at the front of the room, preparing to spend the next hour discussing goblin taxation.
Adrian walked into the room and immediately spotted Susan.
She had taken a desk at the very back.
Her heavy rucksack and a stack of textbooks blocked most of the view from the central aisle.
Adrian slid into the chair on her left, exactly as she had instructed him outside the Potions dungeon days earlier.
Ahead of them, Hermione Granger was already setting out her parchment, her posture rigid with academic focus.
Harry, Ron, and Neville were scattered in the rows nearby, settling in for what was universally considered the most boring hour on the Hogwarts timetable.
Binns began to drone.
Susan did not look at Adrian.
She opened her textbook, dipped her quill into her inkwell, and smoothly wrote the date at the top of her parchment.
“Place your right hand beneath the desk,” Susan murmured, her eyes fixed on the front of the room.
Adrian did as he was told, resting his hand on his own knee in the narrow space beneath the heavy wooden table.
Susan continued writing with her right hand while her left disappeared beneath the desk.
She caught Adrian’s wrist, lifted his hand from his knee and placed his palm against her bare thigh just above the knee.
Without looking away from the front, she slowly guided his hand beneath the hem of her skirt until his fingers rested against her panties.
“Now,” Susan whispered, finally releasing his wrist, “continue listening to Professor Binns.” Adrian began to rub her slowly through the fabric.
The heat radiating from her skin was immediate.
The silk grew warmer and damp beneath his fingertips.
As he rubbed slowly over her, the shape of her lips became easier to feel through the fabric.
Whenever another student shifted nearby or passed down the aisle, Susan simply pressed her thighs together, trapping his hand between her thighs until the nearby student had passed.
She controlled the entire pace without saying a word.
When she wanted more pressure, she dropped her hand under the table and moved his wrist.
When Binns drifted toward their side of the room, she clamped her hand over his, holding him perfectly still.
When she wanted his fingers to move higher, she spread her thighs a fraction wider beneath the desk.
Adrian shifted his hand, rubbing his fingers directly over the place where her clitoris sat, though he kept the silk fabric between them.
Susan kept her attention on the lecture, although her handwriting became less even and her breaths were beginning to fall out of rhythm;.
Several minutes later, Binns turned fully toward the blackboard to copy a list of dates.
She reached beneath the desk, hooked her finger under the side of her panties, and lifted the edge of the fabric herself.
She guided Adrian’s fingers smoothly beneath the silk.
His fingertips met her wet outer lips first.
He traced the slit between them, then moved upward until he found the swollen clitoris.
Adrian rubbed around it in slow circles, increasing the pressure only when Susan shifted her hips toward his hand.
He did not push a finger inside her.
Susan pressed her lips tightly together.
Her fingers tightened around the edge of the desk, and the point of her quill remained motionless against the parchment.
She kept her thighs open just enough to give his hand room to work, shifting her hips slightly forward in her chair to increase the friction.
At the front of the room, Binns unexpectedly paused in his droning.
“And which of you can identify the primary economic grievance of the 1612 Goblin Strike?
Miss Bones?” Beneath the desk, Susan’s hand clamped down hard around Adrian’s wrist.
Adrian froze instantly, his fingers still pressed against her clitoris.
Susan swallowed once.
“The goblins objected to the Ministry’s taxation on wand-metal imports, Professor,” she answered.
Her voice was perfectly normal, if only slightly tighter than usual.
“Indeed,” Binns wheezed, turning back to the blackboard.
Susan exhaled a long, shaky breath.
She released Adrian’s wrist beneath the table.
“Continue,” she breathed.
Adrian found the rhythm that affected her most.
Susan’s thighs began trembling around his wrist, and her hips moved forward in small, increasingly impatient motions.
Her breathing shortened.
The hand gripping the desk slipped once before closing around the wood again.
Before the tension could break, Susan caught Adrian’s wrist and pulled his hand away.
This time, she didn’t just hold him still.
She pulled his hand completely away from her.
Adrian stopped without trying to finish the movement, letting her guide his hand out from beneath her skirt.
Susan smoothly closed her legs, adjusted her panties, and smoothed down her skirt.
She picked up her quill and continued taking notes, her face visibly flushed but her posture perfectly upright.
She leaned slightly toward him, her eyes on the blackboard.
“The first time you make me come,” Susan told him quietly, “will not happen while Professor Binns discusses goblin taxation.” Adrian smirked, wiping his fingers discreetly on his handkerchief.
When the bell finally chimed, they packed their bags and walked out into the corridor.
Hermione Granger was waiting for them.
Hermione was waiting just outside the classroom.
Her gaze dropped briefly to Adrian’s right hand before moving to Susan’s flushed face and the parchment containing several long gaps in her notes.
Hermione stood with her arms crossed, her eyes narrowed.
“Adrian,” she said sharply.
“Did you injure your hand?
Because it disappeared for most of the lecture.” Susan met Hermione’s glare without an ounce of shame.
“His hand worked perfectly,” Susan answered.
Hermione did not look frightened or concerned for Susan.
She looked furious.
“Adrian, did you injure your hand?” she asked.
“Because it disappeared beneath the desk for most of the lecture.” Susan adjusted the strap of her rucksack.
“His hand worked perfectly.” Hermione’s eyes narrowed further.
She had seen Susan take Adrian’s wrist beneath the table more than once, which made the situation obvious enough.
What angered her was the risk to their house points, the abandoned notes and Susan’s complete lack of embarrassment.
She pointed toward an unused study room farther down the corridor.
“Professor Binns assigned twelve inches on the causes of the 1612 strike.” Adrian looked at Susan.
“Did he?” Hermione’s eyes narrowed.
“That answers several questions.” Susan adjusted her bag without looking embarrassed.
“You take excellent notes.” “Which neither of you are copying.” Hermione walks away irritated.