Fitzsimmons

Seventh Year- Part Three

Quick Note: This will probably be seven parts, with an epilogue part at the end, because Harry Potter.

I'm so excited for season two! It's only a month and a half or so away!

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It was late Autumn at Hogwarts, and Jemma's feelings hadn't changed. If anything, they had increased, and she was certain it showed when she talked to Fitz. Fitz used to make her feel like the smartest person on earth when they talked, but now he made her feel completely ridiculous. She agreed with most everything he said and giggled way too loud and way too often. Jemma had been subtly avoiding him so she could get the reins back on her emotions.

"Jemma, are you mad at me, or something?" Fitz asked her one day at breakfast. Jemma tried to remain as emotionless as possible when she answered, although it felt like someone was stabbing her heart.

"I'm sorry, Fitz. I'm not mad. Just stressed." It was only partially true. She was under stress. Stress about her changing feelings for Fitz.

"Can I help you with anything?" he offered. Jemma mentally sighed.

"Yeah. Stop being adorable and perfect." Jemma almost said aloud.

"No, it's just some stuff I need to work through. I'll be fine." She actually did speak those words aloud. And she meant them.

It's funny how she could hate and love Fitz at the same time. On one hand, he made her feel stupid and rejected, on the other hand, he made the struggles of life more bearable. Jemma had never had a real crush before. She thought, in the past, that she had crushes on various Hogwarts students, but the intensity of her feelings for Fitz proved any past crushes to be irrelevant.

"So, how have you been sleeping?" Fitz tried to pick up the conversation. He was also genuinely worried; Jemma had had dark circles around her eyes for days now.

"Dreaming of you." She wanted to answer. Truthfully, in the short hour or two that she could sleep, she dreamt of him.

"Horribly," she said instead. "I barely get two hours of sleep on a regular night. I've piled on all of my blankets. It's just too cold."

"My offer from the beginning of the year is still on the table." Fitz spoke with a gentle, nonjudgemental smile. It did nothing to help the blush that was rising up Jemma's cheeks.

"I'll call you over if I need you," Jemma said quickly with a shy smile. Fitz's grin widened.

"So," Fitz began to change the subject. "Did you hear Headmaster McGonagal is retiring at the end of this year?" Jemma gaped.

"No! When was that announced?" she asked, upset that she wasn't informed of this sooner. "It's just a rumor right now, but Stanley told me that he overheard McGonagal talking to Filch about selecting a new headmaster."

"It does seen awfully likely," Jemma pointed out. "McGonagal has been here for nearly sixty years now. And she's throwing this ball that-" Jemma stopped herself. "I shouldn't have told you that. Don't mention it to anyone else, okay? It's Head of House knowledge only." Fitz nodded.

After their classes that day, the Ravenclaws ended up having an unofficial wizard chess tournament in the common room. Fitz made it to the final round after beating Garret Davies, then Jemma made it after beating Lucy Chang. The other seventh years surrounded them, cheering for one or the other, as the game began.

Jemma had a hard time concentrating, and she wondered if Fitz was, too. Their feet were nearly on top of each other under the table, but they were both too scared to move them. The tension between them was extremely obvious to everyone in the room.

"Just snog already," muttered a sixth year in the back, causing the crowd to snicker. Jemma blushed for about the zillionth time today, and Fitz looked away politely.

For the rest of the game Fitz played easy to let Jemma win. He didn't care if he won or lost, anyways. He only cared that Jemma felt comfortable, and he saw that the sixth year's comment had made her squirm. It wasn't an act of admiration so much as providing an escape. The crowd applauded Jemma as she quickly stood and scurried up the stairs to her room. Fitz wanted to follow her and make sure she was alright, but he was certain his classmates would assume the worst.

"Why haven't you two made it official yet?" asked Fitz's roommate, Grant. Fitz had been studying in a chair by the fireplace, ignoring the party going on in the common room.

"She doesn't think of me like that." Fitz replied, not hiding the disappointment in his voice.

"I'm sorry, mate," Grant apologized as Fitz closed his book and stood.

"It's fine. I'll always be there for her, you know? If she doesn't want me as a boyfriend, well, that sucks for me, but I'll go with it." Grant nodded. "I'm going to sleep."

"See you." Fitz barely heard him; he was already halfway up the stairs, trying to hide the sadness rising up in him, blinking back tears.

Just as Fitz reached his room, a familiar voice spoke to him. "Fitz," she called out. He located the voice at the end of the hallway. There was Jemma, dressed in light blue, sheep-printed, cotton pajamas.

"Jemma?" he whispered.

"Yeah," Jemma lowered her voice. This was ridiculous. Why was she doing this?

"What's wrong?" Fitz asked. He knew her too well. Something was definitely wrong.

"Um, my room is cold," Jemma tried, then shook her head. "Never mind. This is stupid." She turned to walk back down the hallway.

"Wait, Jemma." Fitz jogged over to her. "It's fine." he whispered. "Let me just go grab some more comfortable clothes. Give me two seconds." Fitz tried to make her request as un-awkward as possible, and quickly changed into some pajama pants and a t-shirt, leaving his robes in a mess on the floor.

Once Fitz was back, Jemma led him to her room, where she opened the door and ushered him inside. Before Jemma entered, she made sure no one saw, then nearly slammed the door behind her.

"Jemma, calm down." Fitz whispered gently.

"Sorry... it's just... this is new for us, and I-"

"Shhh." Fitz quieted her. "You're cold and sleepless. I'm here to help." Jemma shakily breathed out, a little relieved but still anxious. Fitz sat on Jemma's bed, then swung his feet up and backed up to the wall as far as he could.

"Come on," Fitz tried to sound as calm as possible. Jemma stared at the small space left for her.

"Jems, let me help you," Fitz pleaded. Jemma held her breath and laid down in front of Fitz, her back pressed against his chest. She could feel the rising and falling of his chest, and she could feel his soft breath against her ear.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" he whispered, his mouth right behind her ear. Jemma let out the breath she was holding as Fitz grabbed the blankets and swung them over the two of them, his arm relaxing around Jemma.

After a few minutes of heart-pounding silence had passed, they started to relax into each other. Jemma brought up a hand to touch Fitz's hand that was lying on her chest comfortably. Fitz pressed his head into the back of her neck and let out warm, sleepy breaths.

For a moment before they both fell asleep, it seemed as if it didn't matter what they were and what they meant to each other. Just peace.