A/N: I can't seem to get over the horrible paragraph formatting. I'm going to have to interject the cliched Later on that day... and so on and so forth. Please, enjoy the chapter, because I really enjoyed reading it.
Harry looked at the girl beside him, tangled in all the sheets with him. He couldn't believe what just happened, and the air was thick with sweat as he turned onto his side to get comfortable. The last hour's events paraded through his mind, and he couldn't keep the sheepish smile off of his face.
Harry couldn't take it anymore. He didn't feel like himself as he brutalized Mahari's lips with his own, the passion he had bottled up inside pouring out as he pushed her harder into the bed. He knew he'd bruise her wrists, but his rage came out as lust, and it wouldn't be stopped.
His hands were everywhere, roaming over everything he wanted to touch, wanted to claim since Mahari walked up to him that fated day. His lips trailed down her neck, reverently touching the bruise there as his fingers tugged at the buttons of her shirt.
She struggled weakly against him, pulling off his outer shirt and tugging on the tee beneath. Something was spurring them on, every sense heightened, the gasping in Harry's ear sweet music as he managed to get Mahari's shirt off, throwing it over his shoulder somewhere, pulling off his tee shirt and throwing it to the wind as well.
He felt lightheaded, as the feeling of skin against skin became beautiful torture, once again ravaging the lips of the amazing creature beneath him. Her skin was a bright mix of toffee, and tasted just as good. Harry was rewarded with a blessed slow moan as he kissed his way down her chest.
"Harry…" Mahari trailed off weakly as her hands gathered fistfuls of his hair and tugged gently, a desperate ragged sound to her normally composed voice. He was swollen past pleasure, past pain as her fingers found the buckle of his belt. But he couldn't help her, he was too busy exploring.
The light played games on their slowly bared skin, shadows cast on their bodies as they writhed on the bed. Harry abruptly broke off his kiss and grabbed Mahari's generous hips and tugged, pulling off her pants to her knees. He slid his hands back up to her hips, her underwear matching her bra, he mused, in the middle of all that flesh.
She kicked off the rest of her pants, the moment taken giving Harry a chance to push his own pants down off of his legs, and they joined the rest of their clothes, in oblivion. He was driven to distraction by the silken touch of her thighs against his, and a roar was building in his mind.
The need to be inside of her was great, and he tugged on the front clasp of her bra in frustration. Mahari giggled slightly as she moved his hand, undoing the clasp herself. She hesitated letting it go, suddenly bashful. Harry took her hands and pulled it away from her chest, kissing both of her palms and her lips.
"Damn, you're beautiful…" He sighed, easing her straps over her shoulders, finally exposing her breasts. Respectfully he touched the scar right underneath her right breast, and the touch seemed to ignite the passion once more. Removing their respective underwear, there was finally no barrier between them.
Mahari opened her eyes, to gaze into Harry's brilliant emerald ones. "Hello." She whispered, the glow of last night still on her body. The sheet was pulled up her chest, a seductive toga, and she shivered as Harry drew a lazy circle on her shoulder.
"Hello." He leaned over and kissed her gently. The kiss was lazy and happy, a self-satisfied thing that meandered its way through seconds, until no one could breathe properly. "What do people normally say after something like this?" Harry asked, trying to memorize the curve of her breast as it pressed against his bare chest through the sheet.
"I don't know, seeing as to this was my first time."
"It was mine too." Harry reassured her, kissing her on the brow. She smiled and snuggled down farther into the covers, a languid stretch lengthening her body. Harry stopped what he was doing to watch, and she swatted him playfully. "Hey, I've already seen everything."
"So?" She laughed, swallowing a yawn. Harry held her close, for the first time in his life, he felt as if he connected with a person on the most basic levels.
"I love you Mahari." He said clearly, feeling the need to say what he felt in his heart. She stopped moving, and looked up at him.
"Do you mean it? You're not one of those people who randomly proclaim their love to people, are you?" She was half joking, but she was half serious, and Harry could see that.
"You are the only person I have ever told 'I love you'." He stared down at her and she gave a small smile.
"Good. I love you too." Mahari yawned and closed her eyes. Harry watched her wander off to sleep again, his heart fit to burst. He just told another human that he loved them, and miracle of miracles, they loved him back.
But how could he be so sure that it was love? Beyond the physical need to make sure that Mahari was alright, he craved her touch, her laugh, and her body beside him at night. He knew he couldn't live with himself if anything happened to her, and yes, he didn't have the best record when it came to protecting the people he loved, but he was going to do it right this time.
Later on that day...
Tedros knocked on his sister's door, and she cracked it open, hair mused. She must have been sleep. "Yeah?" She asked, yawning.
"It's ten in the morning." He said simply.
"Why did you wake me at such an ungodly hour?" She rasped playfully, opening the door wider, still leaning on it.
"Because I wanted to talk about you and Harry." Mahari lost all pretenses to sleep as she straightened up and rolled her eyes.
"I don't know what you want to talk about, but I'm going back to bed. I will wake up at noon." He pushed open the door and followed her into the bedroom, sitting down in her desk chair.
"Mahari, be careful. He has lied to you all the way up till now. What makes you think he's such a great guy?" Tedros asked, leaning back against the desk. Mahari flopped on the bed, not believing she was in this conversation.
"Tedros, he couldn't tell me what he was. He was sworn to secrecy… just like we are." She whispered. Looking up, Mahari caught the look on her brother's face.
"He's not hiding for survival!" He scoffed, backing down as he saw his sister's face.
"Who the hell are you to say that? We don't know what's going on! We, as in you and I, are not privy to everything in the world!"
"What's going on?" Mahari shook her head and looked up at the ceiling.
"Something big. Something so big I can't feel all of it. This place is full of… magic." Mahari smiled to herself, reveling in the memory of last night.
"Whatever. I like Harry; you know that. But the fact of the matter is, he's lying to you, and you hate liars! Since when does this guy make you reconsider your stance on the matter?"
"Sometimes, you keep things from people to protect them."
"Bullshit sister dearest." Tedros sneered.
"Then how would you explain what you don't tell Angela? What you didn't tell Maria, and what you didn't tell Samantha?"
"That is different. They wouldn't understand." He hissed, crossing his arms and standing up angrily.
"Because we decided that. They didn't have a chance to see if they could." She said, standing and trying to reason with her brother. He looked down at her from his almost five inches of height and shook his head.
"What would I say to them? Hey, guess what, I can read minds sometimes, but I will always know where you are, no matter what! How about that?"
"Exactly. We don't know what is going on with Harry… so we shouldn't jump to conclusions."
"And you shouldn't jump into his bed!"
"Excuse me? Get the hell out of my room. Do you think I'm just some arbitrary ho?" Mahari asked, eyebrow rising.
"I didn't say that." Tedros backed up slightly.
"To hell you didn't. Get the hell out." He looked at his sister before he sighed and walked out.
"Just think about what I said." She smiled the fakest smile she could muster and slammed the door in his face.
That Evening...
It was dark, and Mahari walked into her bedroom, the day weighing on her in more ways than one. Unfortunately she didn't get to see much of Harry after she left his house in the wee hours of the morning. She had to go to London with her father, and finish her shopping. Mahari found her thoughts straying to Harry, and counting down the time until she arrived at Privet Drive.
She couldn't go over to Harry's because her father was home, and he was impossible to sneak by. His ability to sense what his children were doing disappeared when her mother died, but he had senses of a wolf, and was extremely observant.
Mahari stripped off her clothes and turned off her light, pulling on her favorite sleep shirt. Exhaustion was pulling at her, the whole day her mind was working overtime. As soon as her head hit her pillow, she entered a dream.
Mahari was in a small mansion, the stone cracking and breaking in the room she was in. Suddenly she knew she wasn't alone in the house. Walking out of the room, she came across a lobby full of people, none of which acknowledged her presence.
A man was standing above all, and all Mahari could say about the man was that he had something serpentine about him. The way he stood and stared down at the people below him made him look as if he wanted to strike.
She looked around, and everyone was dressed in the black outfits and white masks that she saw on the woman in the alley. What was this place?
"I've been waiting for you." He turned and looked straight at her, and her heart sank in her chest.
"Who are you?" Mahari asked, watching in sick fascination as he floated down the steps to land in front of her.
"That is unimportant. The Girl Who Died Twice, that's who you are."
"What do you know about that?" She whispered, backing up slightly. He smiled tightly, sliding closer to her.
"Everything. You are an open book that I read whenever I want." The man reached out a slim, almost fragile white hand and grabbed her around the neck, lifting her off the ground.
She clawed at his hand, beating on his elbow to break his grip, but nothing worked. The already low light dimmed, and he laughed, the sound filling her mind without passing her ears.
"You hold my fascination, you're something new. And I love new toys."
Mahari screamed and woke up, clawing at her neck in fear. The clock on her wall read 4:30 in the morning. She felt as if she just lay down. Sweat made her hair stick to neck, and as Mahari pulled her knees under her chin, she realized she wouldn't be able to get to sleep tonight.
That wasn't an ordinary dream. She knew that as soon as it started. But what was that man who seemed to be able to fly? And what did he want with her? She didn't know who he was… had never met him before. Mahari knew she would remember that face, those hands, that voice… she shuddered, a feeling of such fear, she had never experienced before.
The feeling of foreboding rushed at her, goose bumps all over her arms and shoulders. Something was wrong, that she knew, and the doubt and fear settled in the pit of her stomach.
BANG! Mahari jumped, almost falling out of her bed. That noise… it sounded like the sound in the alley. It came from down the street. She pulled open the bedroom curtains, straining to see in the dark, but there was no light on the street.
She felt movement on the lawn, and Eno barking. A thrill of fear sliced through her, and then power went out.