let's conspire to ignite

Spoiler:

Earlier in the day, Trent had accompanied Millie for her first tattoo, and some awkward moments had transpired, what with Millie's devil-may-care attitude and (surprise,) his own conservative one with her. After the tattoo, they set on a more painful ordeal, to alarm Mrs Finnigan about the new feature embedded into her daughter's back, and to dash out of the house as soon as that was done. Trent had tried to insist on staying outside the house, since he really did not want to ruin the Finnigans' impression of him. But Millie had dragged him in along with her, and he relented.

The duo had dashed out of the house with Lavender yelling in the background. At least it was possible to walk from the Finnigans' to the Thomases', since Dean and Seamus had wanted to live close by. Still, it was a bit of a walk. Trent stopped at a convenience stall to stock up on supplies. Thankfully for his height, he could pass off as old enough to buy cigarettes, which he did, and a pack of beer. A fake ID helped too. There were no such luxuries while at Hogwarts, and Trent seized the opportunities for such during the holidays, as much as he could.

Stopping just outside the suburban townhouse that Trent had grew up in ever since he was born, the boy placed his pack of beer on the ground before lifting Millie up and throwing her onto his back. And then, swiftly, he picked the pack of beer again and dashed into the house. It was quite a din that he made, bursting through the door, yelling gibberish, and then rushing up the steps to his room, yelling somemore, and then tossing the girl down onto his bed, before plopping himself into the beanbag in front of it. Trent let his head fall back and panted, as soon as the pack of beer landed near him with a thud.

"Ain't that quite a workout. Well, for me, I mean. Ah, well." Trent pressed his back deeper into the beanbag and closed his eyes, a smile of rest suddenly coming onto his face. It was getting a little too comfortable. And then his head shot up. "What--..." He looked aghast. "Mum tidied my room! Not again!" He surveyed the tidy room and looked extremely disturbed, as if a catastrophe just swept through his room, an awfully neat one. "How is this fit for living?! This ... organised disaster." Trent shook his head and continued to study his room, before putting his face into his hands. "I'm so traumatised."

"Trenton Seth Thomas. You bumbling fool! What's with the noise and --" The door to his room was opened, and the exclamations of Demelza was more clearly sounded. "Oh, my dear. Millie, dear. I didn't know you came in. Would you like some dinner? We've got leftovers in the kitchen. They're warm still. Please, go help yourself, dear. How're your parents? I should really get down to organising that picnic that your mother suggested the last time for us. Yes, I will. It's just been so busy at the Ministry--"

"All the time. I'm not surprised." Trent commented in a bitter tone. "Trenton Thomas. Don't get smart with me. Your father and I have been telling you, evenings are meant to be quiet rest times after work, and you're not to raise hell with your noise. Do you understand me, for the umpteenth time?!" Trent rolled his eyes, annoyed to be spoken to as if he were some annoying pest or disturbance. Demelza sighed her usual sigh of resignation. She really did not know how to handle children these days. She remembered how she was never such a difficult child during her time. Like always, though, she shrugged. Before she left, though, Demelza turned to give Millie a smile. "Remember dinner in the kitchen, dear." And then she turned to join her husband in their bedroom, where every night was spent reading the news, watching the news, talking about news, and basically doing things that Trent never really bothered finding out.

The door was left ajar, and Trent knew it was deliberately left so. Annoyed, he reached a leg out to kick hard at it, so that it closed with a loud slam. Scowling, he crossed his arms at his chest and slumped back into the beanbag.

It didn’t take an Oracle to prophesise that telling her mother wasn’t going to end well; no, Millie just knew, she knew it would end horribly. When she’d opened the front door, she noticed immediately her brother standing at the top of the stairs, waving she sheets of parchment she’d spent hours poring over with a pencil and an eraser in an attempt to pick a design. His lips were curved into a malicious smirk and as they parted to voice a taunt, Millie shot after him, unable to quell her anger. She had no intention of letting him off lightly, not for rooting around in her room, but Millie couldn’t decide whether to break his nose (again) or trash his computer. Millie had settled for both, smirking at the sickening crunch, and laughing as she pulled the plug on his computer mid-download. Then she’d left him, squirming on the floor, clutching his nose and hopefully wishing he wasn’t such an asshole.

There was an unwritten law that though you couldn’t choose your family, you had to love them anyway. For a long time, Millie had begrudgingly adhered to them as she continued down her rebellious, hell-raising path. She prided herself on the amount of Howlers she got per year from her mother and though she did subconsciously (and consciously at times) try to gain her mother’s approval, it seemed as if she’d given up. It was Lavender’s problem if she could not accept her own daughter for who she was; not Millie’s. She was not the dozy half-wit of a daughter that Lavender had wanted. No, she had been blessed with a mind and a mouth with which she could use to voice all of those ambitious, dangerous thoughts. She wasn’t interested in Cosmetic Spells and tying down wealthy wizards; no, she was far more interested in Death Eaters and planning explosions in the Slytherin Dormitories.

She’d packed the promised bag, bunging in a handful of things from every drawer, and zipped it up, slinging it over her shoulder as twatface emerged from his bedroom, clutching his nose, blood staining his hand as he stumbled towards the bathroom. Millie’s lip curled and she shook her head before trundling down the stairs into the hallway where her mother was waiting a thunderous look on her face. It was as if she already knew. In fact, Millie could see it in her eyes that she already knew. That, Millie hadn’t been able to predict though she had been right about one thing; Lavender had swung for her.

Millie had nigh on shoved Trent out of the door after that. Thankfully Lavender had missed but Millie wasn’t going to stick around to let her try again. No, she pushed Trent outside, slammed the door shut to prevent the flaming harpy from following and rushed down the path, only stopping to pluck Lucius out of his bush. She was quite sure that her mother wouldn’t forgive her for this. She’d been right in assuming that she was going to get kicked out. Millie knew that only her father could butter her mother up enough to let her back in. Then again, if Brother-Bot’s propaganda against her wasn’t enough then Lavender would soon over-exaggerate and turn her husband against their daughter. The vindictive woman had no shame; it was perhaps the only trait she shared with her daughter, but it was used for different reasons.

Lucius, although put out, didn’t look as if he was going to put up much of a fuss. The overly fluffy animal merely stretched out in his owners arms and gave a little meow - which Millie was sure was the cat version of a yawn - before closing his eyes and snuggling against her. Millie couldn’t help but purse her lips at the spoiled animal but she didn’t want to fight with him; not her little fluffy baby. It didn’t look as if he’d noticed Trent quite yet, otherwise he would have been out of Millie’s arms in a second, he just continued with his snoozing, regardless of the motion and the rush that seemed to be going on around him. He was completely oblivious.

Thankfully there was only one detour which his majesty decided he was going to wake up for. He propped up in her arms and looked about himself, wrinkling his nose a little at the smells of the alcohol. Millie smiled brightly at the man behind the counter though he hardly looked as if he was willing to return it. Lucius glared, as he always did with people he didn’t know, and he turned his head towards Trent, eagerly awaiting the attention he believed he was due. Millie decided to pet the cat instead, knowing that Trent’s hands were full with his purchases. And so they set off again, Lucius huffing quietly to his self and Millie rather on the quiet side.

When they arrived at Trent’s house, Millie was barely prepared for the man-handling she received. She screamed as he picked her up, hoisting her onto his back. Lucius was equally alarmed and scrabbled out of her arms so he could sit on Trent’s shoulder. Millie soon collapsed into giggles as Trent took off, miraculously balancing her, the beer and the cat as he rushed up the stairs to his room. Millie plucked Lucius off of Trent’s shoulders as he threw her onto the bed and she hugged the fluffy animal to her chest as she landed against the pillows. Lucius made an indignant, unintelligible sound and scrambled out of her arms again, hopping off of the end of the bed and onto the beanbag so he could be nearer Trent.

“You traitor, Lucius!” She exclaimed accusingly with a carefree grin on her face. “I swear you corrupted my baby...my beautiful fluffy boy...you corrupted him!” Millie dropped her hand onto her forehead and gave a melodramatic sigh before reaching up and running her nails across the neatly lined CD’s on the shelf above Trent’s bed. Millie lifted her head. “Are you insinuating something Trent?” She asked pointedly, a smirk playing at her lips. “Do I need to get my kit off again just to prove a point to you?”

It was at that point that Mrs. Thomas’ voice floated up the stairs and Millie sat up as the door was opened. She smiled as innocently as she could manage. “Hey Mrs. Thomas!” She greeted the woman who seemed a little more frazzled than Millie remembered. “Oh! Yes, in a bit probably,” Millie smiled in thanks. “The parental systems are good-ish. Yeah, it’s best to Owl mum about that though...Dad’d be nigh on useless. Uh yeah...the Ministry seems really busy-” Millie’s eyes flicked over to Trent and she frowned a little. Her eyebrows knitted together and she bit her bottom lip, amazed how quickly the woman’s emotions flitted from irritation to just, well, neutral. Millie managed another smile and nodded before Demelza disappeared once more.

Millie pushed herself forward onto her stomach and reached out her fingers wiggling in an attempt to get to Trent. She managed to poke his cheek with one of them and she giggled before rolling over and sliding off of the bed onto the floor, with only her feet, which were oddly now absent of her shoes though she didn’t remember taking them off, and calves left on the bed. “Smile, puppy!” She told him before reaching out and picking up one of the highlighters on the floor. She took the cap off and pulled one of the legs of his jeans up so she could scrawl on his leg in big bold letters, I LOVE MILLIE! She even drew a pretty little heart on the end. Millie capped the highlighter once more and tossed it away before laughing and poking Trent again, this time in the arm. “Don’t be moody, Mr. Grumpy!” She teased with a grin. “Your mum means well. Now! Entertain me!” Millie threw her arms into the air and laughed again before dropping them down onto the rug.

Earlier, Trent had caught what Brother-Bot had dangled in sight of Millie. He wondered why the other boy enjoyed torturing his sister sometimes. It was probably for attention. Trent felt sure that if he had siblings, he would undoubtedly be in cahoots with them instead. If not for the presence of Lavender, who had rooted Trent to his spot, he would have flew at Brother-Bot, and picked him up for some tough love. After all, the other boy needed to learn how to treat his sister better. He was a decent friend, sure, though not always as fun as Trent would like. But when it came to the Finnigan twins, Trent already had a favourite. It was becoming more obvious recently, and it was clear that Brother-Bot was not ignorant to it either. The Finnigan boy had started to warn his friend not to corrupt his sister, although Trent merely did what Millie had wanted from him -- to simply be a friend, and a fun and good one at that.

With his thoughts on how Brother-Bot had, in a way, betrayed Millie, Trent shook his head. And then he felt something soft snuggle against him. Opening his eyes, a look of surprise evidently flitted across the boy's face. "Lucy!" Trent exclaimed and picked the cat up, choosing to call it by a female name, mostly to annoy his friend. Trent rubbed his nose against the cat's belly and heard it pur in response. He had briefly heard Millie's accusations, and turned to stick out a tongue at her, before allowing Lucius to settle against his stomach. Trent was about to respond furiously against Millie's suggestion about proving her point when his mother barged in. After the woman's nagging din and Trent's resulting physical vent against the door to his room, he sulked, and continued to do so until he felt a poke at his cheek. Millie's first attempt took some tension off him, but Trent chose to continue to enjoy sulking. "I'm no puppy! I'm--"

Trent's eyes widened at what Millie had scrawled on his leg, before he narrowed them again. "What makes you so sure." It was a statement, not a question. Trent decided to slowly relent to the girl's wishes though, and turned to look at her. "I'll go get dinner." He had planned to sneak down to get it, preferring to not let his mother discover that he wanted to touch the food she made, since she chided him earlier. He wanted nothing to do with her, or so he believed. "I'll bring it up, okay? I don't want her to see me eating downstairs. She's so annoying." Trent stopped babbling and pushed himself off the beanbag. By this time, Lucius had already jumped off the boy's lap, wary after the sudden kick that Trent had effected on the door. Trent looked down at it now. "Don't worry, Lucy. I'll get your share." Without a further word, Trent rushed down as quietly as he could, making a sharp turn for the kitchen in their narrow townhouse.

Soon enough, Trent pushed the door open again, and loaded off the many things he had carried up onto the rug. "It's butter rice and salmon. And here's the salad." Trent continued to unload utensils and an empty plate, of which he picked one salmon from the dish to place it on the plate, before putting it in front of Lucius. "Hope you like it, Lucy." It seemed as if he was treating the cat better than his friend. Trent watched for the cat's reaction, reaching out to pat it gently before allowing himself to settle on the floor, cross-legged. "And then you get milk after ok?" Trent set a small bottle of milk that was still not opened yet, near the cat. As soon as that was done, he reached for a fork and began to poke at the rice, eyeing Millie as soon as he fed himself a first mouthful of rice. "No plates for us. Not enough hands for them. Just poke in, no one's going to eat this anyway."

Lucius Malfoy the Cat was probably the most pampered thing Millie possessed. Half of the time, the ruddy animal received more love and care than she did and Trent’s attitude towards the fluffy creature was a testament to that. She grinned but soon made a face at the nickname. ‘Lucy’ was something that Millie had protested against from the very beginning but she soon gave up, especially when the sodding thing refused to ‘talk’ to her afterwards. No, it was best to just pander to Mr. Malfoy. He, like all cats, had his favourites. Millie was the one he had to put up with but he loved Trent. He was just as bias as his owner towards their friend. Though, between Millie and Lucius it was a battle to see who got the most love from Trent. Occasionally, Millie would win; most of the time though, Lucy was the clear winner.

Millie laughed at Trent’s expression when he moved his leg around to get a look at her childlike scrawl on his leg. “Because I love you too, Trenty!” Millie exclaimed with a grin. She watched as Lucius hopped off of Trent’s lap and she picked her kitty back up again as he rose to his feet, explaining hastily his reasons for not going downstairs. Millie nodded watched him disappear before chucking Lucius up onto the bed. The cat gave a protesting mew despite landing on all fours and turned, a thunderous look on his face, before launching himself at her toes. Millie squealed and covered her face with her hands as the kitty bit and scratched at her feet, punishment for throwing him. Millie collapsed into a fit of giggles and when Lucius finally realised he wasn’t getting anywhere, he climbed off of the bed and sat himself down on the beanbag to wait for Trent while his owner rolled over and sort of slid awkwardly onto the floor.

Sitting up, Millie leaned back against the bed, deciding to wait for Trent before any more cat shenanigans took place. She did poke Lucius though, and again, and again, and again. Lucius turned and glared at Millie again who grinned back in response and just as the two were gearing up to fight again, Trent returned. The pair plastered looks of complete innocence onto their faces and Lucius mewed, playing the part of the nice, kind kitty that didn’t attack his owner. Millie merely wiggled her toes in her thick orange sockets.

She tipped herself forward onto her front again as he placed the food down, her stomach rumbling as if on cue. Lucius was lapping up the attention and Millie couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the way he laid it on thick for the salmon. He was a conniving little sod really. Still, he made for great amusement. “You spoil him,” She chided, picking up a fork. “I swear to Merlin...he won’t want to leave after this. He gets it too good here.” She laughed and shook her head before poking her fork into the rice. She could feel the effects of the second dose of pain potion begin to tingle and wear off on her back and she frowned a little as the pain, irritated from all of the moving she’d done just then, started to return. Millie folded her lips around the forkful of rice and dragged the fork from her mouth. Absent-mindedly she began to chew and swallowed before asking. “Can you have a bubble bath with me, Trent?” She had a feeling his response would be a stuttered variant of ‘no’ but she was prepared for that. “I’ll play nice,” Millie added with a smirk.

Despite a mouth full of salmon, Trent talked through it. "Don't you worry. I'll tell Lucy that only girls can stay. Boys have to go down to the living room. House rules. Uh-uh." And then he decided to chew and swallow his food first because it was getting difficult to talk too much with a full mouth. Once that was done, Trent turned to the cat. "Lucy, I love you. You're my bro, my lad. But as long as you got no girl parts, you sleep downstairs. This is the world, yeah. Reality bites, I know." Attempting to sound serious but obviously failing to do so, Trent chuckled before snuggling his nose against the cat's body. Quickly, he pulled away because no one likes to be disturbed when they are eating. Trent tucked back into his portion.

"You, on the other hand ..." Trent wiggled his eyebrows at Millie, and pretended to look her up and down with cheeky intentions. "... can stay right here. Trent will treat you to a ladies' massage. Complimentary in this house for only selected lady guests." The boy really did not know what he had got himself into. He reached for another poke at the rice, and paused.

"You can take Lucy in with you. I ain't gonna step into a bubble bath with you!" As if the memory of Millie being topless at Dryad's was not enough, it seemed as if there was a danger of more to come. Trent felt some sense of nervousness seep into his veins, hoping to avoid the situation. "I'm not going to shower tonight! I need some dirt to survive in this awful ... room of neat-ness." Trent surveyed the room again and shook his head. Even his skateboard looked as if there was some shine on it. A shudder almost ran through him.

The cat always wore an expression of understanding on his face but that soon morphed into something Millie saw more often than not. The bloody animal had the gall to look put-out at Trent’s words. Mind you, it didn’t exactly make much sense. At home, Lavender would have had a cow if Millie had boys upstairs. But then she was relaxed about the idea of Brother-Bot having girls upstairs. Then again, having said that she probably knew that he’d never be able to pull let alone get past a kiss on the cheek. Perhaps she was her mother’s daughter after all. Millie could pull; her brother was no so fortunately. There was something Millie didn’t quite get though. If Lucius was a girl then he could stay but as he wasn’t he had to be downstairs. Oh, poor kitty. Millie couldn’t help but poke her tongue out at the cat, mentally thinking “hah” because he wouldn’t be able to stay. Knowing the cat though, he’d probably bugger off at two am and she wouldn’t see anything off him until lunchtime.

“Ooooh!” Millie grinned at the promise of a massage. “I might just take you up on that. Excellent idea.” Millie looked down at the cat and laughed a little. “Awww, look at his face. He doesn’t want to leave you, Trent!” She giggled again and bright another forkful of rice to her mouth as she watched the two. The cat really did like Trent though he did share Millie’s love of harassing Brother-Bot. He’d crawl in there and settle down on his pillow and the asshole would walk in, strip down to his boxers and get in bed only to find that he wasn’t alone. That was one of the many reasons why Millie loved the cat as much as she did and it was why she let him get away with making Trent pander to him. He was a Slytherin, just like his namesake, but both of them manipulated poor Trent in some way or another so he’d do their bidding; Millie just loved him more.

Millie put the fork down and tugged jumped to her feet. She hopped round the plate of food and tugged at Trent’s arm. “Please baby!” She cooed in his ear, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Andrew said a bubble bath was just what the doctor ordered! Come onnnnnn....please? There are plenty of ways to dirty you up afterwards so just come and have a bath with me. Otherwise, I might just wander around naked.” She raised an eyebrow at Trent and her hands came to her shirt. “Are you testing me here boy; because you and I both know I’ll do it?” Even the cat looked horrified at the prospect of seeing his owner naked - not that he hadn’t before, but that was another horrifying experience he didn’t want to have to go into - and was now nudging Trent’s leg. Millie leaned forward and gently bit on Trent’s earlobe. She smirked a little and released it before pressing little quick kisses across his jaw. “Come on baby...you know you want to see me naked.” She coaxed. “And besides, you need a bath. Now come on!” She pulled his arm again and grinned. “Do I need to give you a striptease or will you come willingly?”

He should have known better. Trent regretted making that offer of a massage. As if he did not know Millie well enough to know that she would gladly accept it. He now shook his head in silent protest, not knowing how to form the words to express it yet. Thinking it'll be better now to have the cat around, Trent reached for it and let it perch itself on his left shoulder. "I-I've changed my mind. Lucy gets to stay. He'll love to come into that bubble bath with us, won't he?" And then suddenly Trent felt the lack of weight on his shoulder. Apparently, the word bath had made Lucius very cautious now, ready to bolt before anyone dragged him to a bath. Trent shot it a look of plea, but now the cat was not paying attention.

Millie had her ways. He had not expected Andrew's advice to entail him jumping into a bath with his friend. Trent felt ready with the curses already. It was not as if his friend was no attractive. He just could not bring himself to do it. When he felt his the slight of a bite at his earlobe, Trent almost allowed his eyes to roll back, but he stopped them in time. He wondered at his surprising self-control. For someone who never knew how to stop or say no to something that feels good for a moment, he was faring well despite his friend's oblivious teasings.

"Alright! Alright. I will come willingly. But I have rules." It was a rare word to use, rules, but he used it, and seem to have meant it. It was odd to him, but Trent tried to ignore that observation in his head. "No touching, okay?" He inhaled deeply and letting the air out again. "I'll get into that bath, but no touching, please." It seemed like a strange request, and Trent not proceeding with an explanation gave greater cause for curiosity, but his mind was too occupied to consider these factors.

Trent strolled reluctantly to the door of his bathroom. It was small, cosy, but still enough to fit a bathtub enough for him. Looking at it again and knowing that the tub needed to fit both Millie and him, Trent wanted to groan in further protest, but decided it was useless against her anyway. "Please tell me you're wearing something." Even the towels were replaced. Good ol' Demelza Thomas. And then, swiftly, Trent walked back to his room again, only to return with one of his t-shirts. "You'll wear this after the bath, okay? So, do you have to do anything besides a bath? Like ... potion ... thing?"

Trent was stalling for time, contemplating if he should run out of the house and wait for the girl to be done. Something told him she could follow him out, naked. At that horrifying thought, Trent decided to stay instead. It was a lesser risk.

As soon as Trent said ‘alright’ Millie squealed and gave him a great big kiss on the cheek. “You are an angel!” She exclaimed, kissing him once more before springing towards the bathroom, ahead of her friend. “Baby, just because you’ll be starkers doesn’t give you a right to make extra special rules!” She told him as she bounced into the bathroom. It was nice. Smelt nice too, as if it had been freshly cleaned. Millie couldn’t help but appreciate the fact that Trent possessed a bathroom of his own. Though sharing a bathroom with everyone in the house had its downsides - the amount of make up her mother possessed being one of them - changing the shower gels over so her brother smelt like a whore’s handbag was especially worth the lack of privacy. She still would have given her high teeth for her own bathroom but then again, unless Seamus sorted things out with his wife and convinced her to let their daughter back in, Millie would be in a predicament as to her official place of residence. She just hoped that Brother-Bot would shrink her trunk and put it in with his stuff if her mother insisted on being difficult until Hogwarts.

“But baby,” Millie turned around, jutting her bottom lip out as she stared up at him. “What if I want to touch you?” Her lips spread into a slow grin and she shook her head. He was so awkward about the whole affair and she was just pressing his buttons. Millie adored Trent and she adored annoying him just as much. He was sweet in his attempts to keep her for private eyes but she really wasn’t the type to keep anything private; much less her own body. Some things remained secrets for good reason but most of it was all out and gossip fodder. Millie loved it. She loved the shock factor it produced. It seemed to affect Trent more than anyone else, who seemed forever persevering to, well, keep her covered up really. She loved him for it but he was so silly at times; so silly. “I’m joking!” She backtracked after a moment.

When Trent left the room momentarily, Millie took the time to put the plug in the plughole and run the water into the bath. She sorted through the different bottles of stuff in the corner and finally picked out a bottle of bubble bath. She twisted the cap off and poured an unmeasured amount into the water as it ran, slowly coating the bottom of the bath. She capped the bottle again and put it back before leaning over and swirling her hand around in the water, encouraging the bubbles to form. She looked up at the sound of Trent’s voice and she raised an eyebrow at him; at his nervousness. Millie rolled her shoulders a little, encouraging a flutter of the wings imprinted into her back and she winced a little as a wave of pain reeled forward with the movement of her muscles. She nodded for a second and straightened up, her hand coming to her back. She braced it despite knowing that it would do little good.

“I’ll go and get the potion,” She murmured gently, gliding past him back into his bedroom where she found the bags that had been discarded in their rush. Millie picked up the plain white one and rifled through it, taking out a pot of salve and one of the vials of Pain Relief Potion which had thankfully been charmed to be unbreakable. She was thankful for that because she knew that without it, there would have been a gooey mess inside the bag. She uncorked it and brought it to her lips. She downed the potion, having learned from experience that it was better to take the foul mixture in one gulp than a series of gulps, and corked the vial once more. She tossed it back into the bag and dropped it down onto the floor again. She then turned and wandered back into the bathroom, her eyes fixed on the salve label. It was the good stuff; the kind of stuff that they lathered on fallen Quidditch players so they could get back on their brooms - instant relief.

Millie put the salve down on one of the shelves and leaned over the bath again which was literally overrun with bubbles. She giggled, sticking her hand into the water to test it. Satisfied, Millie reached out and turned the taps until the water no longer ran from them. She straightened up again, wiping her hands on her jeans, and smiled brightly at Trent. “Chill out baby,” She murmured. “Arms up,” She teased, tugging his shirt upwards, she pushed herself up onto her tiptoes and pulled the shirt over his head before tossing it onto the floor. Her hands dropped down and danced around the waistband of his jeans. “Do I really need to undress you? I will but you need to return the favour, love.” She smirked as she tapped her fingernails against the little pieces of metal that the manufacturers always enjoyed adding to jeans - for flair or whatever.

Leaning forward, Millie gently brushed her lips against Trent’s collar bone. She brought her hands up to rest on his shoulders and she peeked up through her eyelashes at him. “Calm,” She murmured gently. “Relax, lovely.” She patted his cheek and smiled. “Go and get a beer. Go on. Oh, out of curiosity though...” Millie turned around and unbuttoned the shirt. She pulled it off and looked over her shoulder at Trent. “It smarts a little, even with the potion. Is it really red?”

Millie sighed with resignation and tossed the shirt over with Trent’s, deciding to at least make an orderly pile of sorts. She bent over and pulled her pumpkin coloured socks off and soon the rest of clothes joined the pile. Millie giggled to herself and pulled her hair up into a high pony tail before hoisting one leg over the side of the bath into the water, then the other, before finally sitting herself down amongst the bubbles. She sighed happily, closing her eyes as the water moved, accepting the new level that her body had pushed it to. She let it lap gently at her back, soothing the ache she felt there. She was beginning to understand why Andrew had put as many tubs of salve in as he had. It was a big tattoo and there was a lot of skin to cover but also because it was a better pain relief than the potions from what she’d read. It soothed, relieved and healed but the bath did two out of the three.

“So why no touching?” Millie asked with a smirk. “That’s kind of unfair,” She pouted a little and lifted her hands, bubbles having settled into her palms. She parted her lips together and inhaled before exhaling abruptly, blowing the bubbles into the air. She giggled and looked up at Trent. “Come on. Kit off. I’ll even close my eyes if you want,” She put her hands over her eyes and grinned broadly at him. “See...totally not looking.”

No one really questioned why Dean Thomas and Demelza Robins merely stopped at one child. It was less cause for curiosity than why the two even became a married couple. No one even knew that they were dating, and then suddenly, wedding invitations were sent. The wedding was a quiet and small affair. Romance did not seem to be a part of the equation, but family thought the match was decent, and friends thought it rude to question. Some thought it was a marriage of convenience. Seamus himself thought he knew the answer -- Ginny was the only girl Dean really loved. But Dean was, above all, a better friend than a lover. His friendships were priorities, along with his family. He remained fiercely loyal to Harry despite having to suffer the fact that Ginny would never be his again. And so it seems as if Demelza was chosen as a fitting match. Even if she might not truly have Dean's heart, she had his supposed commitment in marriage.

Trent definitely was not interested in the story of his parents. He came after, and he enjoyed the privileges of an only child -- no one to compete with for attention, no one to fight with for toys, the privacy of his own room ... Although as soon as the boy became a teenager, he thought that he would rather have siblings so that he did not have to carry the weight of parental expectations alone. Somehow alone the way, his father grew distant too. And mother was merely being dutiful as a wife and mother. It had become mere expectations at home, but Trent felt so lonely at times, doubting his parents' love because he was often chided for failing to meet with their expectations. It had gotten so bad that he believed that he was not his parents' model child, and they were disappointed, therefore they withdrew their attention or validation towards him. The only thing he could enjoy, and which Trent failed to consider, is that he still had certain material luxuries by not having siblings. The house that he grew up in was a narrow town-house, with a decent kitchen and dining space, living room, the parents' bedroom on the second storey, and his own bedroom on the third. He enjoyed the privacy, although it looked like he was relegated to the top so that if Dean and Demelza pretended to ignore the additional floor, they could jolly well be living on their own.

Trent wore a stern scowl, an expression to what Millie had got him into. He wished, for a moment, that she was some muggle girl who did not matter. That would have made for an easier night. This, though, was someone he could not just easily avoid, not that he would have wanted to. It was precisely because he did not want to have to avoid his friend, that he could not trust himself in situations like that with her. Still, he could not share that concern with Millie. It sounded strange in his head already, let alone when it is said. And it seems like the girl's actions were striving together to push him over the edge.

"Oh, Millie, you don't know how chill I feel now, alright." Trent started sarcastically but allowed the girl to get his shirt off him. And then he jumped away when she let her hand danced around his waistband. "I'll do that on my own, thank you very much. And you should do yours on your own too." Trent looked at his own waistband, and then he felt the girl's lips at his collarbone. Expletives started to sound off in his head.

"No, touchinggg." It came out in a whine. Trent, however, nodded at Millie's suggestion of a beer. His nerves were on edge, and it would probably help to have some beer. Before he turned to fetch it, the boy observed the tattoo. "Well, it is, sorta. A little pink-ish red, I suppose." And before he had to stand there to watch his friend strip completely, Trent turned abruptly away and back into his room, trying to locate his pack of beer. With a can in each hand, he walked back into his bathroom to see Millie getting all comfortable in the tub. He admired the specimen in his tub as she closed her eyes and soaked up the comfort of the bubble bath. And then her eyes fluttered open, of which his own shot to the ground. "What's so unfair about no touching? Save that for your other ... boys."

Trent scowled. He had thought he could put off stripping if he pretended, and if Millie got carried away in her own comfort in the bath. It was unlikely now. Sighing, Trent placed the cans in the sink first, and began to unbuckle his belt. Not trusting the girl, he turned around to face the door, and began to get his jeans off. The boy had no intentions of taking his boxer-briefs off, and so he stood there, glad that he had donned a black one the night before. Turning slowly, his hands felt awkward, especially since his limbs were long. Trent had an uncontrollable urge to shield his precious parts with his hands, and so he did.

"The tub is too small. Seriously. I mean, a kid could fit in, but I doubt there'll be space for me. You know."

He was such a baby at times; an angel, but a baby one. She really didn’t understand what his problem was. It wasn’t as if she was the first girl he’d seen in the world, he’d said it himself, and yet he was acting like some virginal forth year who had just discovered the wonders of breasts; or not, in Trent’s case - he was pre-breast-stage. So he was a third year discovering what was in his trousers and the wonders of pornography. Poor lad. Millie shook her head, grinning at the thoughts that were dancing through her mind in pumpkin coloured tap shoes. It was sort of like her dream about the elephants dressed up as ballerinas; it was bizarre but to Millie it made perfect sense. Where Trent was concerned he was somewhat the opposite. He was bizarre and he made no sense at all. He was like that recurring dream about different newly-orphaned children in what looked to be some sort of Scandinavian country, each one wandering, tears streaking down their face, through what was left of their homes. Those were truly strange, true nightmares that she suffered through with the children.

It was best to brush them from her mind though. Their presence in her unconscious state of slumber was bad enough. She had no idea what she’d do if they leaked into her conscious. It had happened once before. The summer prior in fact, when they went to go and get her brother a new wand from Ollivander’s. Her curiosity, having got the better of her, had lead her to a wand that had clattered to the floor as her father had moved the boxes so they could sit and wait. She didn’t know whether it was the wand or the core but something had brought them to the forefront of her mind so violently that her legs buckled from beneath her and her breaths became shallow. Spots appeared on her vision and she could recall the indignant shouts from her brother, accusing her of making it so they couldn’t get his wand. Millie would never quite forget the knowing look on the old, ancient by then, man’s face as he handed the wand to her, instructing her to keep it. Millie had refused to touch the thing though she did not part from it. Though it wasn’t on her person now, it was in her trunk, tucked between a box of Bertie Bott’s Ever Flavour Beans and a Quidditch magazine - perfectly safe.

Millie raised an eyebrow at Trent’s turned back and she scoffed quietly, a smirk on her lips, before leaning back into the water. She slowly sat up again at Trent’s protest and she cocked her head to the side, not really sure she was actually seeing what was before her. “How is that fair? I’m completely naked!” Millie frowned. “Oh come on Trent, seriously?” Millie moved back a little but was careful not to get too near the taps. “Didn’t you used to have baths with your parents when you were little? Okay? Think about me, my dad and twatface. Okay in fairness we were about three but it’s the same principle.” She paused to smile for a moment before bringing her arms up and letting the water drain onto her shoulders. “Just stop being silly and get in the bath. It won’t kill you to be in a bath with me. I’m not diseased. C’mon, where’s your Gryffindor bravery gone?”