Ghost Kisses
By Juliet Norrington
Harry watched Hagrid getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more wine, finally kissing Professor McGonagall on the cheek, who, to Harry's amazement giggled and blushed, her top hat lopsided. p203-204, "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone", American paperback edition
Set sometime in the 1940's.
---------------------o.O;;
I smile to myself, lost in the place between sleep and wakefulness, and remember him. I remember the way he smiled at me as though I were the only person in the world he wanted to see. I remember the way that he touched me when we were somewhat hidden from the prying eyes from the rest of the world. Over and over again I play those two hours and nineteen minutes over in my mind. And I remember when he said that he guessed he wouldn't be getting any sleep that night. Neither did I- at least not that much, and even when I was asleep he was there.
And yet...
I throw off my sheets and walk to my window. Leaning out the open window, I look down at the moon's pale reflection flickering in the calm blue waters below. I wonder how this happened. How I became like this. I look up at the sky so thick with stars, and long for him. Since when do I long for anyone? Since when do I miss the touch of someone's hand? Since when does a voice echo in my mind? Since when do I feel discontent in the one place I have always felt content?
No longer is this tranquil villa my place of comfort. No longer will all my troubles wash away in the crystal-clear waters. Now, in the same bed I have slept away every worry, the memories of him creep back into my mind- images, voices, feelings. Every night he visits me in the night to haunt my dreams, and in the morning I wake and weep to know that they were only dreams.
I dreamed about him again last night.
It was an erotic dream of night, two bodies intertwined, and a heated rhythm that controlled all our movements. I can still the feel of his hands on my bare skin, hear the sound he made as I kissed his ear, feel his lips on mine. I can still hear the soft sound of his voice as he whispered in my ear, see the way he smiled at me, melt at the memory of when he told me I was more than he deserved. It is a ghost of a memory compared to the real ones I also possess, but my wanting it to be a memory makes it that much stronger.
Like the memories of his kisses.
Ghost kisses, only felt in my slumber, only known in my dreams. Why are the only kisses I have yet to feel the ones in my dreams? Ai, how I wish they were real! Every time I see him, every time I touch him, I want it all that more. Am I crazy? I don't know... All I know is that I am in a place where when he smiles at me, every problem I have instantly vanishes. A place where he is always in my thoughts, always in the back of my mind. A place where my body craves his touch, every moment of every day. A place where in the back of my mind I admit that if he wanted to throw me down and take me now, I would not stop him.
Is that wrong?
--------------------o.O;;
This evolved from "In Love?" another Hagrid/McGonagall piece. It's probably not important, but just so you know... by the official Harry Potter timelime McGonagall's about five or so years older than Hagrid, however in my mind that's swapped and Hagrid's about five years older than McGonagall.