The Tribrid and Her Prison {Book One - Complete}

It Happened

"Checkmate," Albus said as he moved his piece, having it slice through Hope's with a wretched clatter.

Hope groaned and fell to the side, landing on the pillows strewn on his office floor. "Why can't you just let me win. Once."

Chuckling, he shook his head, resetting the board. "That would teach you nothing."

With a roll of her eyes. "That would teach you nothing." She said in a feigned deep voice.

"Are-" Albus started, sitting back on his hands, watching her with a smirk and a raised brow, "are you mimicking me?"

"No." She retorted just as quickly.

Newt chimed in then from his place on one of the chairs where he was reading a book. "I think she is."

"Whose side are you on?" Hope snapped her eyes at him to see him smiling at his text. "You know what, Hufflepuff? You're not as innocent as you make yourself to be." She pointed a finger at him.

After their walk back to Hogwarts, the snow had really picked up. It turns out Hope had been right; a massive ice storm blew in from the North and was creating blizzard conditions. As soon as they'd returned, they'd dressed in warmer clothing and started a fire in the hearth. The only light source lit the room in a comforting glow.

"I think," Albus set the game board aside and took hold of her ankles, pulling her to him with an unexpected jolt that made her squeal with laughter, "that you are starting to get that attitude of yours back."

She laid her head back on the pillows and watched the paintings vacate the office. Rightfully so, if she was right in what she imagined would happen next. Her calves rested on his hips from where he'd pulled her.

Hope scoffed, "Back? Uhm, my attitude never left."

"Is that right?" He asked, stroking her knee with his thumb.

Glancing over at Newt and smirked, seeing he was watching them intently.

"Newt will rescue me, won't you, Newt."

That earned a crooked smile from him as he slowly shook his head. "Don't count on it."

Hope's grin dropped as Albus turned her over, forcing her to lie on her stomach. He touched the tip of his wand to her wrists and murmured. "Incarcerous." At that moment, the rope began wrapping tightly around her wrists, binding them together tightly but not enough to cut off circulation.

Gasping, she wiggled her fingers and looked over at Newt, who had a hungry, glazed-over sheen to his eyes. His book must be long forgotten in his mind, though he still kept it open on his lap.

Albus lifted her hips and placed not one, not two, but three pillows under her pelvis. Creating a forty-five-degree angle with her body. "Now then, which lesson shall I teach? Do not mimic your superior, or don't be a sore loser?"

"You are not my superior."

He lifted the hem of her bed dress and bunched it under her arms to keep the fabric out of the way. "So we'll add insubordination to that list as well, then?"

"Hope," Newt bit his lip with a smile, "you are just digging yourself a deeper hole."

"Well, why don't you grab a shovel, Newt, and dig me out."

Newt nodded with a grin. "How many shovels do you have, exactly?"

"Oh, I think just the two." She lifted her two middle fingers at him, but two swats came down hard a moment later. One on each cheek. Hope gasped and quickly looked over her shoulder at Albus, who smiled at her, a glint in his eyes.