A/N: This story was came to me as I rode a bus recently and was written in an hour. Hope you like it and please review. Thanks!
Nothing She Wouldn't Do
It had happened again.
For the fourth time - or was it the fifth - in his existence, somebody close to him was gone. Forever. Somebody he loved had been extinquished, made into worm food with merely a pair of curt words and a malicious wand wave. Rendered falsely insignificant and inconsequential.
He wasn't anywhere to be found, having fled upon receiving the news of their friend's death. The other boys of Gryffindor Tower sat silently, haphazardly about the common room, quickly stifling any and all attempts at conversation with looks of appalled consternation. The dead man had been very well liked among the Gryffindors, even if his lessons had left a bit to be desired. Respect was due, dammit, and right now silence was the only means they could bear to utilize.
She sat with her housemates, the fading firelight reflecting fleetingly against the shiny Head Girl badge on her bosom, lost in anguished thought. Not for the dead man. She would miss him, she was very sad he was gone but was there anything she could do for him now? Must she not put all her efforts into helping those who still lived - especially the one for whom she lived? The one for whom her heart ached? The one for whom her cheeks were stained by tracks of salty tears, now dried? Her eyes, bloodshot, her nose-
There was nothing she wouldn't do for him.
So why was she sitting in the common room when he was out there, needing her? He'd always needed her, badly, though of course he'd never articulated as much. It simply went without saying. He knew he could count on her. For anything.
Or did he?
She walked the corridors to the seventh floor, her footsteps echoing almost obscenely in the deserted stone hallways. What right did her feet have of making such racket when the whole - ok, the majority- of Hogwarts was wracked with grief? But it couldn't be helped. He needed her and not even the laws of decency could hold her back.
There was nothing she wouldn't do for him.
The handle materialized out of thin air and she grasped it, wondering vaguely what the room had redesigned itself into, what it thought he required. She registered mild surprise upon seeing him sitting on what appeared to be a regular Hogwarts canopy bed. Was that what he needed? His bed?
"What're you doing here?" he asked, drawing her out of her musings.
The ache in her chest intensified at the look of utter anguish in his emerald eyes. He had obviously been crying and there were angry, red scratches up and down his arms, as if he had been clawing at himself in his grief.
He needed her, never mind the hollow tone of his voice.
She restrained herself from rushing him, made herself walk slowly across the room and sat down beside him. She gathered him into her arms and as she had expected, he didn't resist. Rather, he clung to her fiercely, sobbing into her neck and she welcomed the wetness of his tears on her skin, the sound of his harsh, guttural breathing, the quake of his sobs through her chest. Let him. Let him let it all out.
She might have held him for an eternity or an hour; what did it matter, since he gradually calmed down? He pulled away and wiped his eyes, avoiding her gaze until she touched his face. He might have cried himself out but he hadn't cried away the anguish. He hadn't cried away the guilt or the grief. They were still right there, shamelessly vying for the top spot on his self-overburdened conscience. She could almost hear the thoughts as they clashed in his skull. It'smyfault-ohGod-he'sgone-it'smyfault.
He needed to not think. To not think for maybe five fucking minutes. And she knew that. Knew, too, what she must do.
So, not taking her eyes off his, she reached for the buckle of his belt. His eyes widened - for a second, anguish, guilt and grief were knocked off their puffed up soapboxes by the bold, brashness of surprise.
"Wha-" he began but she put a finger to his lips, silencing him.
He watched her, looking steadily more amazed, as she undid his belt, his fly, his zipper and pulled his pants down.
She caressed him though his boxers, watching the deep, forest green of lust cloud his eyes as he hardened in her hand. She had never done this before, for anyone, but at this point in time this was what he needed.
There was nothing she wouldn't do for him, which was why she pushed the boxers down too and stroked him slowly, marvelling silently that something so firm could feel so soft all at the same time. That was why she took him into her mouth, tentatively swirling her tongue over the swollen head. That was why she breathe in his musky, boy-scent and felt the softness of the curly hair tickle the underside of her chin. It was why she cupped and fondled the soft pouches of his virility, registering his gasp.
She opened her eyes to watch him. His were closed, his cheeks flushed and his mouth slightly open. He was beginning to breathe hard though his nose as she bobbed slowly up and down his length. Her jaws were starting to ache but she kept going, picking up the pace, rubbing him with her hands too now and he gripped the blankets and groaned, raising his hips ever so slightly; pleadingly.
There was nothing she wouldn't do for him, so when he stiffened and cried out - her name - when his warm saltiness began spurting against the back of her throat - even though the taste caught her by surprise and she gagged - she didn't let go. She swallowed every last drop he gave her and slowly stroked his thighs until he calmed down. Then she tucked him in and zippered him up again, her hands shaking almost as badly as he had just been.
It was her turn to avoid his gaze just as it was his turn to touch her face, brushing a strand of her brown hair aside in awe.
The Head Boy badge glittered in the waning moonlight that streamed through the window as he kept his hand on her face, softly. She looked up into his beautiful, green eyes and found them shouting. They were shouting what his mouth couldn't articulate. The almonds of green were saying that he knew.
He knew there was nothing she wouldn't do for him.
And he loved her too.