disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the song One Night by Elvis Presley. So this happens during the sixth book of the 'Potter and Black' series. This is their... well, dance with no pants. Hope you like it and any feedback regarding the writing of this chapter will be greatly appreciated!

One Night

One night with you
Is what I'm now praying for
The things that we could plan
Would make my dreams come true

"Not here," said Arabella. "I don't… I don't want to do it on this floor. Let's go somewhere. Somewhere else."

Something seemed to have clicked inside Harry. He moved towards the door and looked out into the corridor. He then grabbed her hand and lead her down the corridor, up the stairs, and onto the seventh-floor landing. It almost surprised her that they did not get caught, but, as she watched Harry pace in front of the enormous tapestry and the polished door appeared, she realized how strangely lucky they were today.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked her.

Arabella reached for the brass handle and turned it. "This is the most sure I've ever been, Harry."

It was the truest statement she ever said in her life. She couldn't think of a time where she had ever been more confident of herself, more sure of herself, and the fact that what she was doing was inevitable, meant to be, was always going to happen…

She pulled the door open and led Harry inside.

It was a rather small room compared to what they had last year when they were practicing spells. There were lit torches along the wall that illuminated a small bed on the floor with silk cushions. Arabella turned red at the sight and fiddled with the hem of her shirt as Harry closed the door behind them.

"Are… are you sure?" Harry asked her again.

Arabella took a couple steps forward and took out her wand. She brought the tip of it towards her abdomen and muttered the Contraceptive Charm under her breath. The tip of her wand glowed a light periwinkle, and something strange and foreign settle in her chest. She turned around towards Harry and found him watching her, his tongue darting out and licking his lips.

"Do you want me?"

Her voice was barely above a whisper as she took a step towards him. She then took another step until their chests were touching and she could feel his breath on her cheek.

"Yes."

His voice was husky and rough, as though he was straining himself, trying to control himself. She didn't realize how much he wanted her, needed her until now. It was such a strange feeling to be wanted like this, a way she never experienced until now. When Ernie or Anthony or Terry talked to her, they wanted her in a way that was fleeting and brief. Harry… Harry was different. He was always different for you, she thought, and she did not want to deny him, or herself, this.

"Do… do you want me?" Harry asked, his thumb brushing over her knuckles.

Arabella smiled and looked into his eyes. "Long before you wanted me, I'm sure."

"Impossible."

He kissed her and the noise she made would have even made Mad-Eye blush. She pushed hard into him until they were pressed against the door. Their heads rolled and turned against one another as Harry's hands slipped under her shirt. Arabella pulled away and began kissing his cheeks and neck and throat. It was all rather sloppy and could see the trail of saliva after her. But Harry did not mind. In fact, he didn't even notice. All he was able to concentrate on was the smoothness of her back and the softness of her hair against his skin. Arabella kissed the skin under his ears and a strangled moan left Harry's lips, and she was immensely proud of herself.

He then snapped his eyes open.

"I don't… I don't know what to do," he admitted meekly. "I've… I mean I've heard Dudley talking to his mates and I've seen the magazines under his bed, but I've… got not clue, Arabella."

"Me neither," said Arabella, shrugging. "We'll… just have to find out together."

She then took a step back and noticed the way her hands were shaking. She did not know what to do. She heard stories, of course, in the common room when people thought their conversations were private, but everything she was doing… it was all instinct.

"Arabella…"

Slowly, she grabbed the front of her shirt and pulled it over her head. Her hair dropped over her shoulders and she used them to cover her arms. She did not want him to see those terrible scars…

Harry stared at her for a moment and moved forward. He gently swept her hair away, his eyes scanning every inch of her skin. She was not all scars and marks, but sometimes she felt like it, like it was the only significant thing about her.

"I…"

Harry struggled to get the next word out and when he stared at her with such unadulterated passion, she felt as though that feeling in her chest was going to combust.

"I've never felt more lucky," he whispered, his fingers gently caressing her skin.

Arabella licked her lips and nodded, unable to think of any words to fill the moment. In truth, she felt as though she were the lucky one to spend such a night with Harry. She then reached forward and helped him out of his own shirt. Soon enough, her jeans followed, then his, and finally they were standing in their undergarments.

Neither of them moved and neither of them were able to take their eyes off each other. Carefully, Harry took off his boxers and Arabella eyes diverted, her cheeks red. He had a build – of course he did, he was the Captain of their Quidditch team. There was hair on his upper thighs and some on his navel, and she was unable to look at him.

"There's still time to back out, if you want."

Arabella shook her head and turned around, facing the bed and the silk cushions. She reached behind and unclasped her bra. Quickly, she tossed them aside and her underwear followed shortly. There were no clocks around or a window to tell her if morning came. She had no idea how long she had stood in front of him, her shoulders quivering with goosebumps on her arms. It could have been hours, days, years for all she knew… until Harry came up behind her, moved her hair away and kissed her shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her hips and Arabella felt… my god…

His fingers were sprayed against her skin and Arabella turned around. Her mouth was soon on his and they knew each other's needs. Her heart was racing against her chest and she found herself unable to think coherently. His hands were on her buttocks and they were walking backwards until her back was on the bed and he was on top. He stopped abruptly and stared down at her, his eyes flickering around her with a kind of yearning she had never seen before.

"I had a dream like this," Harry whispered. "You… I dream of…"

Arabella leaned up and kissed him as Harry moved his hips forward.

She let out a half-moan, half-gasp as Harry kissed her neck, shoulders, and chest. His hands explored her curves. They were tentative and the tips of his fingers danced above her skin. She wondered if he was scared or worried that he was going to hurt her somehow. How foolish, she thought to herself. How could he ever think he would hurt her? Or perhaps… he was scared that this moment would end too soon and they leave the room with no change between them. This moment, this perfect moment between them, will end and they would go back to acting as though nothing happened because they had so much going on – their private lessons with Dumbledore and McGonagall – Voldemort and Bellatrix were out their hunting them – and this, whatever this was between them, seem so insignificant in the grand scheme of things and –

"Oh!"

Harry looked up and moved away from her chest. "Did I hurt you?"

"Far from it, actually. I just… was not expecting that."

"What? This?"

His lips clasped around her nipple once more and Arabella moaned, her body nearly arching against the bed. Oh, he was surely torturing her, he surely was, and he knew what he was doing. She groaned and somewhere in between the noises she made was his name. She heard it and he did as well. The way his name came out of his lips, as though it were some sort of prayer or mercy. He was torturing her in such a way that was driving her wild.

Harry kissed the skin of her throat, her neck, her chin, and finally her lips. She parted her lips and the space between them became nonexistent. He settled between her legs, the weight of him pressed against her chest. In the morning her lips would be bruised and her hair unsalvageable, but that was tomorrow's problem.

She pressed herself closer to him and felt him against her hips. She broke the kiss and he let out a sigh of disappointed against her cheeks. Her fingers trailed against his jaw and she moved some hair behind his ear.

"We've come this far," Arabella said softly.

"Nervous?"

"No. I've got you."

With another kiss, Harry steadied himself and pushed forward. She dug her fingers into his skin, turned her head away and made no sound. He stalled for a moment and laid his forehead on her shoulder, his breath shaky and rough. There was no more frantic hands and feverish kisses. Now there was stillness and awe at this strange sensation.

He then moved his head over hers and kissed her jaw. She moved her head as well and they stared at each other, struck at this sudden transformation. In that moment, they were past friendship and puppy love. They were in uncharted territory, somewhere they've never even explored within themselves. Harry looked at down at her, his gaze bold, and Arabella turned away, unable to match it. She had only seen him look at her like that once before and it happened in the same room, but that moment was a lifetime ago and they were here now… Two kids that never really got to be kids with the weight of the world resting on their shoulders and now seeking a certain comfort she could not name.

Sex? Too anatomical.

Fuck? Too impersonal, they weren't like that.

Making love? This was their first time, it couldn't be that.

Perhaps it was better this way, her unable to find a word to describe this moment. If it ever got out, the school would go into a frenzy. The girls would envy her and the boys… they would want to know if she was good. They would whistle and ridicule her as she walked through the corridor. Word would get around that they fucked, that he finally got that Arabella girl, and that their one night was this and that, and Arabella would laugh at them. Laugh at the way they tried to understand her and their relationship. As if they ever could. This was more than just a flimsy excuse to get rid of some sort of social cherry that never truly existed. This was… years in the making.

"Keep going."

He did. He pushed himself until he was completely buried inside her. He groaned against her lips as the warmth and softness spread through their bodies. They seemed to fit with each other effortlessly. He sprayed soft kissed against her cheeks and neck as her muscles relaxed against his. It did not hurt half as much as she thought it might. Perhaps it was because she was with Harry, someone she trusted, someone she knew would never hurt her, someone that lit a fire inside of her… Her body relaxed against the bed and she caressed his hair before pulling him into another kiss and whispering a single word that encouraged him to move.

He began to move and she followed in suit. For a moment it was sloppy and they butted heads, trying to figure out what to do, but soon enough, they found a rhythm that made Arabella cry out. Tension began building inside of her and she clutched his arms. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and his fingers were both in her hair and gripping the sheets tightly. She moaned his name in his ear so many times that she lost count and the tightness inside of her continued to grow and grow.

Her legs wrapped around his hips and their kisses now became erratic and – and –

Then there was her release. Stars danced across her eyes and a shudder left her lips. Her head fell back against the bed and every muscle inside of her clenched in elation. Harry let out a small cry, his breath hot against her skin as he found his own release. He moved with her once, twice, three times, and he was halfway through the fourth when warmth spread through their bodies.

He nearly collapsed on top of her but held himself up with a wobbly arm. Their breaths were hollow and unsteady. They were in a tangled mess and Harry carefully moved himself to lay down beside her. Arabella signed and tried to cover herself against the sudden rush of cold air. Harry glanced over at her and brushed a bit of hair sticking to her cheeks. He smiled and kissed her forehead. Arabella moved her head forward, trying to catch his lips, and instead got his chin. Harry let out a small laugh and gently pressed his lips against hers. It was tender and light, and when they broke apart, his lips lingered upon hers.

"Are you going to leave?"

"No. Not tonight."

"Good," said Harry, pressing their foreheads together. "I don't care if anybody finds us. Even Filch could come through those doors and I wouldn't move."

Arabella wrinkled her nose. "I rather not let that happen, thank you very much."

"Nobody's going to find us," said Harry. "It's just you and me. Sleep," he whispered against her cheek.

She laid her head against one of the cushions and turned on her side. The fire coming from the torches danced against the side of his face. His eyes were already closed and his chest was rising and falling peacefully. Arabella closed her eyes and moved closer towards him, leading her head against his shoulder.

One night with you
Is what I'm praying for
The things that we two could plan
Would make my dreams come true

Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you guys think of this chapter!