The music filled me
The music filled me. Tonight is a night to forget and to remember. To be carefree for a few short hours before adulthood is thrust upon us. The Great Hall is packed with hormone filled teenagers moving to the beat. To the beat of their own hearts or the bass, no one could tell any more.
You can't even hear yourself think, but what is there to think about? The fear that grips every fiber of your being, the courage that you must somehow show, the thought that you or your loved ones might not see another sunrise or be able to hold a lover close during a majestic sunset? We knew it would all come down to one gloomy day where we would be forced to kill or be killed.
Couples dancing, bodies close enough to meld into one, ignoring the old prejudices, houses intermingling. I danced alone. Head bobbing, hips swaying, eyes closed, lost in my own world.
Fear clings to us but we push the feeling aside with the help of alcohol and sex. The professors turn a blind eye, allowing our guilty pleasures to go unnoticed. I continue to dance, to smell the sweat of the never-ending movement, to see couples leave to have one night of ignorant fun.
A fight breaks out near one of the doors and suddenly the song changes to a fast techno with a catchy beat, hopefully to distract the fighters. It works and they take another shot and continue to dance. We don't need that now, I don't need that now, and I don't need that to remind me that my best friends are at the top of the enemy's hit list.
I take a sip of my drink when I stop to catch my breath. Its effects are instant as it slides down my throat. I suddenly feel freer and I don't care anymore about being able to breath all I care about is dancing.
The beat is stronger than any drug and more soothing than any other remedy.
I dance.
Then suddenly there's a hand on my hip and an intoxicating blend of rum, cigarette smoke, and a hint of cinnamon, that I smell as the hand runs up my side to my shoulder.
I spin around and see stormy gray eyes. I start to panic but then the hand is caressing my cheek.
No words are spoken; just a silent acknowledgement that we need escape.
We dance.
A tray of whisky floats by us and I grab another shot. He raises his eyebrow and gives me a questioning look but I just dance closer to him and he lets the issue go. I know I'm drinking too much but I'm still afraid of the future.
As we grind against each other I realize why so many students have decided to fuck their way out of fear. Its nice to be with someone and know that they need you as much as you need them and that someone cares, if only for one moment in time.
I take a step closer to Him and his trademark smirk appears. But for an instant I glimpse nervousness and fear in his eyes, two emotions I've never seen there before.
We are almost touching but not quite. My heart beats frantically and I almost step back but then I'm being kissed. I've never experienced such a kiss before. Frantic, passionate, eager, gentle, tender, beautiful, and absolutely wonderful. I'm lost in the movement of his lips, the feel of his hands, the softness of his hair; the taste of him intoxicates me more than alcohol ever could.
The rest of the world disappears as we share this moment. A feeling I thought only existed in film and fairy tale. The music gets muted, the smell of sweat becomes sweet, and the bump of other dancers becomes gentle caresses.
We kiss.
For the first time in months I am completely relaxed.
Then the kiss ends and the music turns back on, the sweat returns with a vengeance and the dancers are still drunk dancing.
Lust filled eyes stare at me. No words are said but I get pulled out of the throng of students and out into the corridor.
We hurry to the Room of Requirements and before we could do the custom door opening routine I am slammed into the wall and passion overtakes me as we kiss again. Feeling every part of Him that I can reach. The door opens. The magic in the castle must understand our overwhelming need.
The room was simple, just a normal bedroom with moonlight streaming through sheer curtains at a window.
We stumble in and He kicks the door shut as He bites and sucks the nape of my neck. I can't help but to moan. It's obvious that His reputation as a sex-god is true. I want to be a part of Him, I want to feel His skin, see how Quidditch has toned Him.
As I stare into those gray eyes I unbutton His shirt slowly, teasingly, I want this night to never end.
I run my hands up His perfectly toned stomach, up His hairless chest to push the shirt off His shoulders. It falls to the floor and I step back. He starts to reach out to me to draw me back to Him but His arm falls back to His side as I reach up to the straps of my tank. Slowly I run my hands down my chest and stomach to the hem of my tank and I pull up tantalizingly slow.
His eyes widen as I throw my shirt on the ground and I walk toward him in my black mini skirt and black lacy bra. You can tell He never thought that I could ever wear something so risqué.
I've never felt this bold in my life. Only once did I initiate anything sexual before this night, even then it was only to hold hands, which doesn't count.
I place my hands on His shoulders and kick off my strappy heels. Still there are no words exchanged.
Somehow we end up on the bed. He's on top and for the first time I get a chance to really look at how much he had changed since we were young. The thoughts of a time long ago fade from my mind as He sucks on a particularly sensitive spot on my collarbone.
His hand slides up my thigh, pushing my skirt up as He goes. As He draws circles on my inner thigh I reach for His belt and undo it, pulling it out of the belt loops in one swift movement.
He smirks and lets out a soft chuckle but then attacks my breasts through my bra with hot wet kisses and sucks from his trained lips. I know He is thinking on how I was able to do that so quickly, frankly I'm surprised myself but I smile and trace every curve of His back with my nails, pressing lightly and He elicits a moan.
I take the opportunity to flip us over. Straddling Him I give Him a quick kiss then I sit upright and skillfully unsnap and take off my bra. I suddenly feel very self-conscious and I move to take part of the blanket to cover up with but He grabs my hand and breaks the silence. You're beautiful He says and flips me over and we are kissing again but something is different about it. Instead of urgent and lustful the kiss is full of an emotion that I can't place but it fills me up nonetheless.
Tongue against tongue, lips against lips, and His bare chest rubbing against mine.
The night carries on and my fears dissolve as we partake of the unthinkable. Far too soon dawn arrives and we are thrust into the future we never hoped for.
Turning over in bed I see Him sitting by the window smoking a cigarette, the smoke curls up and around his head. He looks over at me and smirks through the soft hairs falling in front of his face. The beauty of it makes me want to cry and a tear falls. Then he is kneeling next to the bed wiping away the tear.
"Just so you know Granger, I am on the other side. And no matter how I feel about you I must do my duty."
"Well Malfoy, I will kill you myself if you don't survive this war."
I laugh and cry and just hold him to me.
Who would have thought such love could exist in such a time of hate.