A/N: There's not a lot to say really. I'm pretty sure I'll be good with the updates for the next few weeks, seeing as most of the things that have been getting in my way are now taken care of. Yay for that!! Also, the soundtrack is pretty much done; I just need to put it all together. One of you guys suggested that a score may be in order as well. How does that sound? Good, bad, over the top, just right? Tell me in a review and if you say yes, suggest some upbeat movie scores. They're not very easy to come by, let me tell you! Any help at all would be lovely.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine. Obviously. I wouldn't be writing fanfiction if that were true.
Enjoy!
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Who Really Needs Better Judgment Anyway?
I stared at the letter, not believing my eyes. There it was, printed in black ink. Looks like I got my wish. He was finally beginning to show his emotions, letting me in. He thinned the barrier between us by sharing the deepest emotion of all; love, the reason the world goes around, the fuel behind thousands of cheesy romance novels, the crème de la crème of the human psyche.
There was a moment when I first registered the words that I felt my stomach erupt into tiny butterflies, thinking it was me he was talking about. After all, we had been somewhat of an item for a few months now. But he certainly would have phrased it differently if he wanted me to receive it that way. He wouldn't have said I'm in love, but rather I love you. Right? Maybe it was just my over-analytical mind at its worst, but it seemed like I was right, it was too good to be true. It was the perfect timing, the perfect guy, the perfect everything. Nothing is ever perfect for too long. Soon enough, it would pass you by to move onto the next person, like a never-ending cycle. You only get a taste before it's gone.
Regardless, the fact remained he was in love with someone. Someone who wasn't me.
Forget my hopes and dreams, forget my future plans, forget my feelings. They meant nothing now, absolutely nothing. It was silly to think that someone would ever love me in the first place. Any love I had to offer was bound to be unrequited. That's the way things have always been. With Victor, with my extended family, nothing ever stayed with me. The only person who cared was sitting in her shop, selling the latest shipment of quills imported from India or some other far off country.
Don't forget Harry.
I groaned. I didn't even want to think about him right now.
I re-read the letter what seemed like a billion times over, trying to find a hidden message squirreled away between the lines. Something that said "Just kidding, I'm really in love with you and want to marry you!" or something. It didn't work. The words remained the same, and the pain began to intensify. It was like someone was continuously stabbing me deep in the gut with a dull railroad spike. There was a pain in my chest heavy enough to rival a heart attack. I started to see stars and had to brace myself against the chair to keep from falling. My reaction might seem overdramatic to some. Hell, it even did to me, once I thought about it. But you can't really begin to comprehend what it feels like to have your heart break unless you're experiencing it for yourself.
In slow motion, I fell down into my chair and felt the world begin to spin around me. And trust me, seeing stars plus the world spinning isn't a pretty sight. It makes you nauseous. I put a hand over my mouth to hold back a dry heave I felt build up in my throat. It was like I was going into shock.
Scratch that. I was definitely going into shock.
So much shock, that I blacked out right there on the chair. The last thing I heard was Hedwig's concerned chirps beside me.
~*~
When I came to, I felt a cold sensation on my forehead. It was relaxing, calming, and just the push I needed to open my heavy eyelids. The world was a blur when I first lifted them, but after a few blinks I could make out a familiar pair of emerald orbs staring at me. I saw him let out a breath and smile.
"Thank Merlin, I was starting to worry."
"Worry about what?" I asked groggily.
"You passed out… I think."
I wiggled my shoulders for a moment to find them cushioned by my mattress. I was on my bed. I turned a questionable eye to Harry. "I passed out on my bed?"
A slight pink tinge began to make its way to his cheeks. "Well, I sort of moved you…"
"From where?"
He pointed behind him towards my chair. Hedwig was still perched atop the back and panic began to well up in my stomach. Harry noticed my change in demeanor as I stared at the snowy owl and turned back to see what had gotten me so flustered. She hooted to the two of us and I saw a slight sparkle in her eyes. Before Harry could bring up the topic of the mysterious bird in my room, I blurted out something to distract him.
"Thank you."
His neck immediately twisted to face me again and I plastered on a small smile. He returned the gesture with a curt nod. "No problem. You had me going for a while, though."
"Sorry I-I didn't eat lunch and I guess it got to me."
I really was a horrible liar.
He raised an eyebrow and I tried my best to keep a straight face. "Right. Lack of food can sometimes lead to stuff like that. You should really be more careful."
I almost shouted in relief. But didn't, obviously. That would've screwed everything up. I might be a mental case at the moment, but that doesn't mean that I still didn't have some common sense left in me. "Yeah, I'll watch my diet from here on."
"That's all I ask."
We both let out a sort of awkward-nervous-type laugh and I did my best to remain calm. Hedwig was just in there to see if I was alright and now that I was awake, she would leave soon. I just had to distract Harry until then and hope that he didn't remember her presence in the room. Fat chance.
"So how did you find me, anyway? You've never even been in my room before."
"You have that pretty little bird over there to thank for that."
Shit. "O-oh?"
"Caused a real racket, flapping around the room, scratching your door. I thought you had a swarm of bats in here until I opened the door to see you sprawled across your chair like someone who just got hit by the Whomping Willow."
"Interesting analogy." I said, slightly embarrassed that he caught me in the aftermath of my breakdown.
He shrugged. "I call them as I seem them."
There was a slight pause and I felt him study me for a moment. I shied away.
"Are you sure you're alright?" He asked softly.
"No." I said honestly. There was no use lying in moderation.
"I don't suppose you want to talk about it?"
"Sorry, no such luck." I tried to look at him in the eyes when I said this, but ended up focusing on his nose instead. Oops. I refocused and connected our eyes, feeling an uncomfortable sensation in my stomach that seemed all-too-familiar. "I just want to be left alone for a while. I need some time to think things through a bit."
I expected him to retaliate, protest, do something. But he just nodded like the patient guy he had recently proven himself to be and said softly, "Alright."
He reached over to rub my knee and I felt a shot of static shoot up to my chest. I let out a small sound of surprise, but he didn't seem to take mind. He closed the door with a last lingering smile and left me be. I looked back over to my chair to see that Hedwig was no longer there. A small gust of wind hit my left side and I turned to see the window was open. I wondered vaguely how it managed to get that way as I swung my legs over the bed and walked over to close it. It shut with a click and I collapsed back onto my covers.
I went through the next few days in a mental fog that caused the minutes, hours, and days to blur together in a very disconcerting way.
I took Harry's advice and never skipped a meal, but didn't eat much. At breakfast, I couldn't digest more than a piece of toast, at lunch I barely got a ham sandwich down my mouth without gagging, and at dinner, I could only take a few nibbles of lemon soaked chicken before my stomach felt like someone rammed a brick down my esophagus. At least I tried.
I started thinking of my bedroom as my cave when I realized that I never traveled anywhere but there and the great hall in the first three day span after receiving Joe's letter. Clothes were everywhere, books were at random spots around the fireplace and on my rug, and my bed hadn't been made since Merlin knows when. A day into my self-enforced incarceration, I started knitting, a habit I had picked up in my fifth year when I tried to kick start S.P.E.W. I had gotten quite good at scarves and hats, but I still had trouble with mittens. I thought I could channel my heartbreak and anger into something productive but it turns out knitting with a broken heart can be bad for your health. I stabbed myself with the needles a record eleven times in the span of two hours, and I only had one pair of misshapen gloves to show for it.
So I turned to reading. At the beginning of break, I promised myself not to study until two days before classes. But now that other activities had proven themselves unable to ease my pain, I had no other choice. I knew that fiction books would only make things worse. Most literature in the genre always had romance lined in there somewhere. It was a part of life, therefore, a part of a writer's inspiration. So I was left with schoolbooks.
No matter how much I tried to avoid it, though, I couldn't wash my feeling away. I still felt depressed, fragile, and so much more vulnerable than I'd ever felt before. The swirling, churning apocalypse of emotions in my body threatened to overwhelm me, but concentrating on other things helped ease the storm a small bit. Unfortunately, distractions could only work for so long.
There were times when I would just cry. I wouldn't even be thinking about it until something reminded me of him. It was the stupidest things, too. I saw the fire go out and started to tear up because it reminded me too much of irony. It rained one night and I began to bawl my eyes out because we told each other how much we loved the rain in our first letters. They were silly things, but somehow they still got to me by unknown means. Sometimes I cried for so long I would end up dry sobbing, and not like the actresses you see in the movies. It was ugly. It would have sounded like a fish out of water if fish could make noises loud enough for human ears to pick up.
Before my mind could process it, a week and a half had passed.
I didn't realize that everyone had returned from break until I was in the great hall for dinner. The room was now filled to the brim with students and I found my normal spot taken by a gaggle of fourth years. Not in the mood for any sort of confrontation, I just turned my back around and skipped dinner for the first time since I made the promise. But hey, it's not as if I had sworn in blood or anything.
I was almost to Marie's portrait when I slipped on what I thought was a wet floor. I fell on my back and felt the wind leave my lungs in a rush. I gasped for breath for a good minute until I felt relief come through the media of air. My breathing came out in heavy gasps as I stared up at the ceiling, cursing myself for letting my stubbornness and emotional disdain get in the way. I propped myself on my elbows and felt around for the source of my fall. It turns out that it wasn't water at all, but a slip of paper. I recognized the bright colors immediately as the flyer that Colin Creevey had handed Harry a few days (or was it a week?) ago. Now that I had it in front of me, I could properly read the title. It was printed in lime green font and was slightly metallic when I held it up to the light, reading Welcome Back Bash!
Further information was below, circling pictures of former Gryffindor house parties. I scanned it briefly as an idea struck me. I had tried relentlessly to put my misery behind me through various comfort activities I had used in the past but knitting and studying didn't seem to work anymore. Maybe letting loose might help. I had never really enjoyed an actual house party before, only sneaking down for a butterbeer or two. Maybe embracing the company of blaring music and drinks might help. It never hurt to try, right?
Before I could lose my nerve, I hauled myself up off the ground and sped to my room. I changed out of my sweats and into a comfy pair of jeans and t-shirt. I checked my profile in the mirror and decided that since I hadn't brushed my hair since, well, a while, it would be better pulled back. I had never been a fan of make-up, so I didn't bother putting any on. Besides, most of the people in attendance would be too drunk to notice anyway. It wasn't as if I was fishing for approval. I just needed to let off some steam. That was all. When all else fails, try something new, that's what I always say. Then again, I never thought it would lead me to a, for lack of a better word, Rave.
Soon after entering through the portrait hole, I left the tower. I wasn't one to take an overly excessive amount of time getting ready. Ever.
"Where are you off to at this hour?" Marie asked as I closed her portrait behind me.
I turned back with an amused expression. "It's only seven."
"Yes, but you haven't left your room save for meals for a good week. I'll assume whatever has been bothering you is now repaired?"
"Erm," I said uncertainly. "I'm working on it."
"By getting some fresh air with a reason other than filling your stomach?" she asked cattily.
I looked down like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "Yes."
She nodded carefully, looking as though she was trying to reign in a smile. I backed up a few steps cautiously. "At what hour do you expect to return?"
"I don't suppose that I'll be gone for long. An hour or two at the most."
Marie pursed her lips. "Alright. Be safe."
"I always am."
I turned away before I could see her reaction, but I knew that she was holding in soft laughter, the kind you have when you tease someone with good intentions.
It was only a short while before I reached the portrait that lead to Gryffindor tower. Being Head Girl, I had a list of each house's passwords, so I spoke the key word to the fat lady and she opened up for me without missing a beat. I could hear the music well before the hole was revealed, it was that loud. The pounding bass came at me in a rush as I dove deeper into the room and got my first glance at the party I was supposed to lose myself in. Within reason, I thought.
There were streamers everywhere; the ceiling, the fireplace, chairs, everywhere. It was a real fire hazard if you thought about it. But that was the benefit of having a room full of wizards. There would always be a sensible one in the crowd sober enough to perform an Aguamenti when need be. More times than not, that person ended up being me. Not tonight. Tonight I was going to be one with the crowd. If there was a fire, some other responsible student could take care of it. Certainly there were other sensible people attending tonight? Well, if not, I'm sure that Colin had taken the precautions to prevent such an incident from occurring.
Against a far wall was the refreshment table, which, when I looked more closely, turned out to be two study tables pushed together covered in a red tablecloth. There was a tub of ice filled to the brim with butterbeer, another twin bucket filled with firewhisky for the older students. Back when Fred and George Weasley ruled the school, they had taken it upon themselves to come up with a few inventions to prevent any of the younger students from getting their hands on the highly alcoholic beverages, a fact I was still thoroughly impressed with. It was a trait, I was told, that was passed onto their younger siblings to use at future gatherings. And just as I suspected, there was Ron Weasley, waving his wand around the firewhisky to add the finishing touches. It always paid well to be cautious.
The room was absent of anyone below fourth year, as per usual. They were always escorted to their dormitories a half hour before the party started and locked in their dorms. I didn't approve of this method until a third year had snuck down to chug a pint of firewhisky that he had somehow gotten a hold of. It was best they were locked up, I think. They would mature eventually. Until then, they were safest in their dormitories, pouting about how it was unfair that they got treated like children because of their age.
Couples and groups of people already lined the middle of the tower, which was used as an impromptu dance floor. I was sure there were a few people going stag as well, but they weren't as easily spotted. Against a corner was an old wooden turntable that was being used as a deejay booth. Dean Thomas was behind the speakers nodding his head to the beat of the music. Coming out of the overly large projectors was an upbeat wizard band that reminded me of something you would hear in a Muggle dance club. Trance I think it was called. Everyone that was occupying the room was either on the dance floor, grinding against someone or moving their hips around to make it look like they were dancing, or near the fireplace, talking with someone above the music.
I knew where I had to go and headed straight past the bundles of people to reach my destination. The drink table looks innocent enough when you first see it. But when manipulated accordingly, it can serve your will however you please, including lowering your inhibitions and worries. I reached for a bottle of firewhisky to pour myself a shot, but paused as a faint red siren began to sound in the back of my head.
Are you nuts?! You're about to drink your problems away?!
You never know what will work until you try it.
Do you want to poison yourself? Alcohol does horrible things to people, Hermione.
Oh Gods, if I didn't know any better, I'd think it was Harry in my head. But no, it couldn't be. My conscience had always been this way.
I'm not going to get wasted. I just want a small drink to ease my mind a bit.
A small drink turns into another small drink, which turns into a larger drink, which ends up being the contents of three bottles.
That's ridiculous.
Is it?
Look, I can handle myself. If things get too out of control, I'll leave. Drinking doesn't make you do anything you don't want to do.
Yes but-
But nothing! I need to loosen up, forget about Joe for an hour or two, and then I can go to sleep.
There was a pause. Promise?
Cross my heart.
I felt my stance relax as I reached towards the nearest bottle. The glass was cool against my fingertips. I popped off the cork and poured myself a clean cup. The glass was no more than a few inches tall and too skinny to be considered a glass at all. It looked more like a tube. I studied the glass for a moment, watching the unfamiliar liquid swish around and begin to bubble over.
"Are you going to drink that or what?" A voice hissed from beside me.
I looked over my shoulder and rolled my eyes. "Obviously, or I wouldn't be holding it."
"Well then stop looking at it and just down it already. You're wasting the coldness."
"Shut it, Weasley, I can handle my own liquor."
"Obviously not."
I glared at him. "Just give me a moment, okay? Unlike some people, I have a conscience that wants me to be careful."
"That's no fun. If you want to go in, go all in."
Oddly enough, his analogy actually made sense, a fact that I didn't overlook. "Bugger off, Weasley."
He scoffed but remained silent. Not wanting to hear him bitch any more than was necessary, I put the glass against my lips and downed it. The liquid burned my throat and I had to resist the urge to cough. It wasn't as good as I thought it would be. Looks like the name really did do it justice. Firewhisky. Who would've thought? My nose scrunched up as the taste somehow made it to my nose like some drinks do when you're about to laugh.
Maybe I drank it wrong. Just to make sure, I quickly poured myself another glass, only to get the same result. I tried once more and almost gagged at the awful aftertaste welling up in my mouth. Well, that theory was a bust. Looks like I was doomed to depression forever.
I put the tube-glass-thing back on the table and turned to the dance floor. I could spot a few familiar faces. Looks like this was a multi house party, I thought. I spotted Luna Lovegood dancing as though she was in some sort of trance alone in a corner of the room, her signature bottle cork necklace bobbing up and down in midair. There were a lot of drunken people scattered throughout the room. You could pick them up easier than most think. Just look for someone with no sense of balance and who giggles at something that could be funny if there was something else behind it. In a sick sort of way, I was jealous of them. They looked so carefree, so unaware of their surroundings. I wanted to be like that. I wanted to forget. Why did they get the privilege of doing so and I was stuck here, three shots of firewhisky down and not feeling a damn thing? It's practically criminal.
I didn't even realize I was looking for anyone until I saw a tuft of ebony hair somewhere in the crowd. Was Harry here? Maybe he could help me out. He was really good at distracting me, after all.
Yeah, with his tongue.
I sighed and put that idea away. As tempting as it was, I would have to be hammered to even consider that an option. And seeing as that wasn't going to happen anytime soon, I let it be. Perhaps another time, after I read a manual on how to get drunk the right way. The party for me was over. Looks like it was going to be an early night in once again. I let my feet begin to carry me towards the door, bowing my head in defeat. You win, better judgment.
And then the most wonderful sensation passed through me. It was like warm honey fresh out of the bottle, pouring over my senses and glazing over my every thought, action, and body part. The room suddenly seemed more golden, more alive. The people were not only dancing, they were singing; singing with the sound of a thousand doves. It was beautiful. The world around me burst into a collage of warm fall colors. Every time I moved my head or even took a breath, the scene would move as if in slow motion just so I could see it all before it passed. I felt a silly grin spread on my face.
Hello, numbness.
Feeling an overwhelming urge to dance, I joined the crowd in the middle of the room, moving around in what I thought to be dancing. Perhaps it was more like swaying, but I was too buzzed to tell the difference. The song had changed to one in which you could hear the turntable scratching behind it. The singer's voice slid through the sound system like liquid estrogen. The beat was a sensual one and I was vaguely aware of everyone around me pairing up. It didn't even matter if you knew the other; all that mattered was the beauty of the music to which you were dancing. Whoever was closest was your new partner. I felt a pair of warm arms wrap around my waist and melted into them. Maybe it was the alcohol, but they felt really good pressed up against me. Our hips moved in a mutual rhythm that matched the beat.
I felt my better judgment begin to melt away. Is that another effect of the drink? It must have been. I would never dance with a random stranger if I was in my right of mind. But damn did it feel nice.
I felt hot breath on the crevice between my neck and shoulder and shivered as I felt goose bumps erupt on my skin. I leaned even further back into my partner's chest and heard a masculine sound of approval sound from deep within his throat. I smirked at the new sense of power. Hooking my right arm over his neck, I twisted my body to press against him from the front, wanting to lift the sense of mystery surrounding our sensual dance.
Even the buzz of firewhisky couldn't mask the shock.
We looked at each other for what felt like an eternity. It couldn't be. Not again. I had already suffered enough today, now I had to face my mixed feelings on top of heartbreak. Thank you, irony. Harry looked equally as surprised, but not so much like he wanted to run out of the room as I did. The fire had already been lit, now someone had to add the gasoline.
My hand was still around his neck and I didn't want to take the chance to move it. But my hesitations ultimately lead to my downfall. Recovering from his end of the shock, his arm snaked around my waist and pulled me snug against him. The fire began to rise up to a dangerous level once more. His chest collided with mine and I felt my body immediately react. I didn't even bother blaming the firewhisky. What was now between us was too real to be blamed on anything but pure need. I felt my will begin to give into him as he began to move against me once more. I was scared to respond at first, but the feel of his body against mine was too strong to ignore. I threw away what little sense of doubt I had left and ground against him.
Our legs seemed to entangle with each other and soon the only thing between the two of us was the clothes that were snug against our skin. I moaned as pleasant sensations began to fill my body. Sensations I had never felt before. What the hell had I been missing out on all these years?
The same scratchy tune was still blaring around the room. The softly spoken words and harmonies of the performer adding to the heat. It was when the song entered a high crescendo that an idea struck me. If this was how good it felt to fill the need, what about the want that I was now experiencing? I was with the one guy in the world that seemed to want me. It would be taking advantage of the situation, yes, but I needed so desperately to feel wanted. You never know how empty you can become when no one wants you. It's like a hole in your chest that keeps sucking in all of the ambient negative feelings from the world into you and enveloping your entire body. In other words, it pretty much sucks. But now here I was, and if I was reading the situation right, I could get rid of that feeling as well as the other I had sought out to squash. It was like hitting two birds with one stone. I pulled back slightly from Harry and did the one thing that I would have never thought I would ever do in a million years. The thing I thought I could only do if I was hammered.
I added gasoline to the fire.
He looked at me with curious eyes for a moment. I recognized the familiar glaze of alcohol in them. Smiling coyly, I pulled his head down to mine, capturing his lips. He was quick to respond. His lips moved sloppily over mine, the kind of messy way that lets you know a small part of what was letting this be was the alcohol in our bloodstream. But right now, I could care less. All I needed was to feel wanted, and if this was the way to do it, then by Merlin, I would enjoy it.
I found the seam of his lips with my tongue and plunged in, wanting to make it known to him that I wanted him. I needed him. He was my escape. He took quite well to the message, if I do say so myself. His mouth opened for me and his velvety tongue met mine in a tangle. I had almost forgotten what he tasted like. It's harder than you think to hold onto someone's specific taste. But this time there was a small hint of firewhisky from both of our mouths.
His hand moved lazily up the back of my shirt and moved around the skin smoothly. I arched into him and he smiled against my lips. I felt the urge to pull back and scorn him for acting cocky in a moment like this, but decided against it. He had every right to feel that way. He was doing things to me, making me feel alive. He deserved a moment of glory. I wonder how it felt to know that you had a certain pull over another. I moved my free arm behind him and lifted the bottom of his shirt and felt the smoothness of his skin. I felt him moan, his pleasured oration vibrating into my mouth. I felt a sense of empowerment close to the burst I had felt earlier. But this time, it was layered with lust, a tide of lust that enveloped me like the first wave before a tsunami hits. I detached my lips and he gave me a hazy look. I bit my lip and took his hand in mine.
I don't know how we managed to get to the common room. I can only imagine how we said the password with how drunk we were. But none of these worries slowed us down.
My back hit the wall next to a lamp. The impact was such that it fell to the ground and cracked. His lips crashed down onto mine in a blaze of desire. I could still hear the song that had been playing radiating in my eardrums. I reached down and pulled his shirt off of his chest, wanting to run my hands over his skin again. I had only gotten a taste before, and now I wanted-no needed-more. He shrugged it off and gave me a sexy grin. I giggled deep in my throat and wrapped my hands around him, running them around his abs to feel the muscles that lay there. They contracted slightly as I touched them and I found it fascinating. I pulled off my own shirt next, curious as to what it would be like if we were skin-to-skin.
It was like an explosion of fireworks. As soon as I discarded the seemingly useless piece of fabric, he pulled me to him and my still covered breasts were pressed against what I had once called his rippling pectorals. And boy was I right. Surprisingly, the whole time I had dedicated to taking off my shirt, our lips had only detached once as I pulled it over my head. His tongue was doing things to my own that made me want to scream in ecstasy. But that might ruin it. I held back any reaction similar to that and continued to join my tongue with his. One of his hands began to trail from my waist up to the bottom of my breast. I moaned and pressed myself to him, lifting my back momentarily from the brick wall. He cupped it and began kneading it firmly. I gasped at the new sensation and had to pull back from our kiss. He didn't miss a beat, moving his lips to attach at my throat. They were like cool ice against my flaming skin. He made a trail of soft kisses from my collarbone to the bottom of my chin, stopping there to suck and nip at the tender flesh.
I was writhing against him, not wanting him to stop, but knowing that he would. I had to distract him so that he would never stray. I moved one hand from its place on his waist and began to move it down to his zipper. My other hand was busy rubbing his abdominals and tracing them in slow circles. As soon as I reached the metal fastening, I began to rub up and down in a motion I thought mirrored sensuality. He took very well to the theory and moaned into the nape of my neck. I continued the movement until he began to nip at my ear playfully. I gasped, not expecting him to change course and drew back for a moment. He took advantage of my falter and captured my hand with the one that had been kneading my breast. I looked at him curiously, but he avoided my gaze and placed small kisses on my chin, nose, and neck.
I didn't know where he was moving my hand until I found it atop the zipper once again. This time, he arranged my fingers to grasp the button and release it from the hole. I smiled drunkenly and took the hint. After the button was unfastened, he led my hand to the zipper and helped me move it down. The sound of it coming undone was the only sound in the room other than our heavy breathing. I needed to cover it up before I let the sound pierce through to my better judgment. I angled my face up to his and captured his lips in a fiery kiss. He kissed me back with great force as his pants fell to the ground, leaving him in only his boxers.
I repeated the same movement with my hand, leading his to my button and letting him slide my pants down to the floor. Before I could make a move to do anything else, he grabbed a hold of my hips and picked me up. My legs automatically moved around his waist and I felt his arousal against my inner thigh. I broke our kiss and attached my lips at his throat, sucking his skin as he had done to mine. I felt him begin to move and was vaguely aware of the elevation as he proceeded up the stairs. I don't know which room he led us too, but at the moment, it didn't matter. The door was against my back and I detached one of my hands from around his shoulders and groped around for the doorknob. I found it within seconds and turned it to let us through. Apparently my quick hand had earned me the reward of another breathtaking kiss. I held tight to him as I absorbed his taste.
He backed us up into a bed and lowered me gently on to it. The soft covers were a nice change from the hard wall and door. I maneuvered to the back post and saw him climb towards me. He reminded me of a tiger about to pounce his pray. Oddly enough, I didn't mind being the field mouse in the situation. Call me crazy.
He crawled atop of me and kissed me hungrily. Maybe it was the effect of the bed, but things moved a lot more quickly once we got there. He reached behind me to unhook my bra and my breasts spilled out into the cool air. It was remarkably how fast one can act when they come into sight of a private part of the human anatomy. He dipped down to my chest and began to suckle at my breasts like they contained the sweet nectar of life. His tongue swirled around the buds and I groaned huskily. I reached into his silky hair and pressed him closer to me. His switched back and forth, giving each breast equal attention. I soon grew impatient with his teasing and tugged him back to my mouth.
My hands trailed from his hair to the muscles of his back. His hand began to move once more, but this time taking refuge in my inner thigh. I inhaled a large amount of air as he began to softly stroke the most sensitive part of my body, a part I had never even dared to touch. Not once. It was a good thing I never did, too, because I feared that his actions would vastly trump my own. His one finger turned into two as he rubbed more vigorously. I let out a gasp into our kiss and felt him smile. I didn't even have time to return the favor and feel that rush of adrenaline because he swiftly pulled down my panties. I looked at him with a bewildered expression and he gave me one of his signature grins in return. I couldn't help but smile back and did a little surprise of my own. With as much sensuality as I could muster, I trailed my hand to the elastic of his boxers and pulled them down more skillfully than I thought I could pull off.
I knew what was going to happen next. But I wasn't scared. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the rush of estrogen pumping through my bloodstream. Nothing could stop me from continuing. And I did it with a clear head, exactly what I had set out to accomplish in the first place.
I didn't get a good look at his, erm, member, but from what I did see, I felt very bad for ever criticizing him about his anatomy. Turns out I was wrong. Go figure.
He lowered himself to me and I grasped at his shoulders, bracing myself. He looked at me for a moment before swooping in for another kiss. I melted into him once more, letting my body relax. That was the moment he plunged in. I felt a sharp burst of pain and tried to scream out of reflex. But Harry's kiss muffled it. It covered the whimpers I emitted as he began to move as well. At least someone was thinking. If only he could think of a way to take the pain away. That would make him a downright god.
Thankfully the worst of the pain ebbed away after only a few moments, but there was still a slight discomfort. He must have noticed I wasn't enjoying myself, because one of his hands trailed down my body and began to stoke near where we were connected. Now that was a way to help me enjoy myself. I began to move more freely with him and that was enough for both of us to begin to reach some sort of nirvana. I can't really describe what it felt like when I began to climax, but I'll try my best. First, my hips began to buck as if I was riding a mechanical bull I had no control over. Second, stars appeared in my vision; which was pretty impressive seeing as I had my eyes closed. Third, the most amazing sensation began to pour over me. Forget the warm honey; this was like a shower of hot liquid bliss pounding down on me like little drops of heaven. Mix that with the feeling whenever I get a 112 on an assignment, and you had my first taste of climax. To complete the picture, the both of us let out noises that could only be described as purely animalistic. Hot, right?
It lasted for a good half a minute before I felt something warm spill into me. After he spent himself inside of me, he pulled out and I felt a gush of fluids spill out from my broken hymen. Wow, way to ruin a moment. Harry didn't seem to care, though. He broke off our kiss only to place a butterfly-like one on my forehead. I smiled like an idiot at how that small gesture made my stomach feel. He returned my smile with one equally as lopsided. I just had to kiss him, it was in the rulebook. What rulebook you ask? I'll answer that when I come up with one. I pressed my lips gently to his for a moment and buried my head in his chest, feeling sudden fatigue. He rolled over to my side and placed his hands around my waist, drawing me to his chest. I snuggled into his warmth and the world began to fade.
And the funny thing was that I did all of this with the same stupid smile.
The world faded into black, velvety content.
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