Chapter 26 - Stolen Moments

"Think of it this way," Brooklyn started optimistically, "He's more like your personal bodyguard."
Harry stared at her, mouth slightly agape. He then buried his head in his hands miserably.
Brooklyn came and sat next to him on the bed, taking his hands in hers. "I'm sure he'll humble a bit."
"Are we talking about the same person here?" He asked sarcastically. Harry moved her hair covering her neck, pulling out the chain that lay beneath her shirt. "I miss being alone with you."
A sad smile formed on her face as she scooted closer to him, placing her forehead against his own. "Soon," she breathed.

It was tantalizing beyond recognition. His hand immediately tangled its way into her hair in response and her hands now rested upon his thighs. It felt like it had been forever since the last time their lips had met. Hastily, he drew her as close as possible. He did not know the next time he would be allotted this and he was going to make the most of it. Her reactions signaled no protest, only amplifying his own as one of her hands ran through his hair, the other coursing evocatively up his back.

"Ugh, not again." Malfoy's voice sounded disgusted from the doorway.

Brooklyn broke away first, relinquishing all contact. When Harry opened his eyes he noticed she appeared flushed and was staring intently at the ground.

Harry turned his head in Malfoy's direction. His expression clearly showing his appreciation for being interrupted. "What do you want?"
Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Forgive me your majesty, but your presence has been requested downstairs."
"I'll be down in a minute."
"How unsatisfying."

Brooklyn stood up abruptly, shoving the chain back underneath her shirt. She walked straight toward Malfoy, pushing him aside to clear her path.

Malfoy smirked. "Feisty."
"She'll obliviate if you get any ideas." Harry said nonchalantly. "That and I'll make sure you're in quite a lot of pain."
"Touching." Malfoy sounded bored. "Now get downstairs."

Malfoy turned to leave as Harry quickly scanned the room for something close enough to throw at the back of his head. By the time he found the Chudley Cannons figurine his opportunity had passed. He studied the figurine in his hand. It had been one of the very first paraphernalia Ron had gotten of the quidditch team.

He placed the item back on the nightstand, next to a picture of Ron, Hermione and himself. It was taken last year before they parted for the Hogwarts Express. Harry didn't want to be apart of it, but they dragged him in at the last second. He wasn't smiling at all…until Ron and Hermione came up on opposite sides and pulled on his cheeks in an attempt to create one. Harry couldn't help but laugh at their attempt and a grin now resided on all of their faces. The scene played over again.

Harry reached out to take the picture, but stopped short.

"Soon."

For two out of three that soon never came. His reaching hand fell listless. Reluctantly, he stood up and made his way to the downstairs of The Burrow.

------------------------

Luna was sitting next to Brooklyn, who looked as confused as ever with their conversation. Neville and Ginny were next to them, seemingly engrossed in their own conversation. Harry was about to take a seat next to Brooklyn when he noticed Lupin motioning to him slightly. There was an empty seat for him…Malfoy right alongside. Groaning inwardly, Harry took the seat.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was conspiring against us to force us to get along." Malfoy muttered in an undertone.
Despite himself Harry snorted. Then, as if to cover for it, he turned a small glower towards Malfoy as he methodically spooned out some spaghetti. "I still want my clothes back."
Malfoy took a bite of his own, grinding his teeth perhaps a bit too much. "Like I'd want to keep these hippogriff toilet wipes anyway."
Harry's fist clenched around his fork a bit tighter. "Changed my mind, just burn them. Can't risk getting infected with that pureblooded, albino mania you have."

From across the table came a quiet 'Hem Hem,' that reminiscent of Umbridge. Both boys ignored it, so fixated on glaring at the other. The way Malfoy's fingers were curling around his spoon, as if preparing to deliver a dagger like thrust, did not escape Harry sight. In response, he coiled his fingers around his fork until he felt the metal actually beginning to bend.

"Going to kill me with a spoon, blondie?" He growled quietly.
Malfoy's mouth curled into a sneer. "Better than that damnable spork."
"Fork," Harry growled indignantly.
"HEM HEM!"

Both continued glaring at each other, the metal in Malfoy's hand beginning to bend as well. Then Harry saw a chunk of bread hit Malfoy in his temple. As he turned to cheer for someone's brilliant aim, he got hit right on of the tip of his nose by another piece of bread. Malfoy muttered something along the lines of Potter's dumb girlfriends. Harry saw his ex, and current, both smiling sweetly, armed with more bread projectiles…much larger than the prior ones.

"You two about done there?" Brooklyn questioned with a smirk.
"No, no," Luna interjected. "Leave them be. All this tension sets the perfect mood for planning You-Know-Who's downfall doesn't it?"

Many, many gazes turned to the blue-eyed blonde's happy expression.

In response she smiled jubilantly. "Perhaps once we kill him we could partake in the ancient rituals of the Boozelebee tribe, where we roast marshmallows over his dead carcass." Luna calmly wound a strand of spaghetti around her finger, sliding it into and out of her mouth like a popsicle before looking around the table with the happily vacant look of the recent binge drinking contestant. "We could make smores," she added. "Won't that be fun?"

Besides him Malfoy started spluttering. And then to Harry's great amazement, he started laughing. It wasn't a full body laugh, but the kind of intermittent, shuttering laugh of those who have had little use for such a vocal expression in their lives.

Shacklebolt reluctantly agreed, "No, no, the girl's got a good point. We need to finish our final assault plans."
Luna bounced up and down like a small child. "And then we'll plan the after party roast?"
Moody's magical eye swiveled to her, following her bouncing movement with jerky up and down eye twitches. "Desecrating the fallen enemy? I see no problem with that."

Luna squealed happily, landed on her seat, and promptly lost all expression as she diverted her attention to the tomato red sauce. She had poured it into a small cup and taken to drinking directly after her spaghetti was inserted into her mouth via her improvised eating utensil. Next to her, Brooklyn was trying very hard not to laugh, taking to shoving the bread she was armed with into her mouth. Ginny followed suit after a snort slipped from her. Neville was just shaking his head, thoroughly amused.

"Alright, let's get down to business." McGonagall said heavily.

-------------------------

Harry sighed heavily, his hand rubbing his forehead. He realized he was shaking slightly. Everyone was getting up from the table after finishing their combined meal and meeting, he had yet to move. His plate moved in front of him, but he didn't bother to see who was cleaning up after him.

There was a whisper of breath on his ear, a slight brush of hair on his cheek, accompanied by its intoxicating smell. His breath hitched at the casual contact their bodies made as she retrieved his plate and turned to bring it to the kitchen.

His mind was dissonant. The meeting still raced through his mind, causing the racking nerves in his body. Genuine lust was its challenger, begging him to forget everything that had transpired during the meeting, if even just for the night. Dissonance. It was something that could be costly in the end.

Still vaguely shaking, he made his choice. He had to find a way to be with her tonight.

A soft, Umbridge-like 'hem', ruptured his thoughts, sending his glance sliding across the room to its creator, Ginny. His eyes followed Ginny's gesture. In the doorway stood Brooklyn, something fiery and needing burning in her eyes as her gaze cut across the crowded room to his. His eyes fell to her empty hands, startled to see how quickly she had gotten rid of his plate. Knowing her though, the poor, unloved plate was probably resting in some potted plant. And he was unsurprised to find that he really didn't give a damn about its whereabouts at the moment.

Rising to his feet, he heard Ginny launch into some loud exclamation, drawing the eyes of everyone in the room to her. Sneaking a glance her way, he saw the gleam of triumph in the red head's eyes. Merlin bless that red head, he thought to himself. He and Brooklyn would be getting her something nice as a thank you. Most likely something shiny and wrapped in that ridiculous brown paper she liked so much at Christmas time. Hell, if this got him alone time with Brooklyn he'd wrap up Malfoy and give him to the girl if that was what she wanted.

Stealthily, he made his way toward the staircase, Brooklyn already there waiting for him. Ginny could be heard going on about something that was apparently outside as they made their way up the stairs. She grasped onto his hand tightly and he knew then he would never make to the top landing. He settled on the vacancy that was Percy's old room on the second floor.

Slamming the door shut, he shoved her up against it and she dragged him by the collar of his shirt toward her. They both stopped short, her eyes fixated on his lips. He raised his hand and brushed a stray hair away from her face. Her eyes raised and her intense gaze met his own. Her hands were fiddling around the waistband of his jeans as his ventured down the curvature of her body, making their way underneath the sweater she was wearing. Their lips finally met, involuntarily causing his lower body to press onto hers. Somehow she managed to pull him closer, his shirt beginning to rise in the front on its own accord. He made sure hers' followed suit and he soon felt the warmth of her skin against his own. He found himself walking backwards until the backs of his knees met the unknown and buckled beneath him. He found himself lying on a bed, Brooklyn holding his wrists above his head, straddling his waist. Leaning down seductively, her lips delicately met his again. He trembled beneath her, anticipation getting the best of him. One of her hands released his wrist and was now fumbling with his belt buckle. His now free hand began aiding in the process.

"Damnit! Why is it always me?!" Malfoy whined from outside the open window.

It was Brooklyn who reacted before he could. She strode to the window, flipped Malfoy off and slammed the window shut. Harry had barely propped himself on his elbows before she was back on top of him, her actions clearly stating that foreplay was no longer an option and he readily complied.

There was a knock on the door. Both of them froze instantly. If that door opened, they were about to be caught in a more than compromising position.

"Fair warning." Malfoy's voiced sounded from behind the closed door. His footsteps could be heard walking away.

Harry banged his head against the soft pillow in extreme frustration, while Brooklyn's fist punched the mattress.

"Unbelievable…" He muttered, rising into a sitting position, attempting to adjust his clothing in the process. Brooklyn, however, had a string of obscenities flowing from her mouth as she did the same.

The sound of voices filled the downstairs once again. Brooklyn plopped down next to him, placing her forehead on his shoulder, sighing. He put his arms around her, her scent enticing his senses once again.

"Come upstairs tonight. I'll make sure it's just us." He promised softly, all the while envisioning ways to kill Malfoy to ensure their solitude. She nodded in response.

--------------------------

Harry subtly excused himself from the conversation downstairs. There was something he realized he needed to do in the event that things did not go in his favor tomorrow. He found himself alone upstairs in Ron's room once again, sitting at his desk. Making space for a parchment and inkwell, he tried his best to keep Ron's things in the order they had been. Taking a deep breath, he dipped the quill into the ink and began to write.

The Last Will and Testament of Harry James Potter

About an hour into writing, he dropped the quill on the desk, massaging his aching hand. Scanning over the parchment, he checked to see if there was anything he left out. Satisfied with what he had, he picked up the quill to add the final details on a separate sheet of parchment.

Living Will of Harry James Potter

The last thing he wanted was to end up like Neville's parents. He signed the bottom of each page.

He folded up the parchment and put it in an envelope. He would have someone downstairs take it to the Ministry tonight for the records.

Standing up, Harry stretched out his back and neck from the stiffness of being in the same position for some time. He was actually surprised that no one had come up to check on him, but maybe they figured he needed to be alone. Either way, he knew his soon to be kicked out roommate would probably be up shortly to go to bed.

And right one cue, Malfoy arrived. "Hey Potter, what are my chances of scoring with the Weaslette? I figure if I'm going to die tomorrow I might as well. I sure as hell don't want to be the only one not getting laid today."
Harry turned toward him, his initial shock from the question vanishing when making eye contact. "You'd stand a better chance with Luna."
Looney Lovegood?!" Malfoy was aghast.
"She was making you laugh downstairs." Harry pointed out.
"I was laughing at her!"
Harry shrugged. "You've obviously never seen her in one of her summer solstice get ups then."
Malfoy's jaw dropped, and he had to smother a laugh as he tried vainly to sound disinterested. "What exactly would that get up entail?"
Having been lying through his teeth, Harry couldn't help but seize the chance to egg him on. "You know Muggle Bikinis?"
"Yeah! I mean erm...no."
"Picture that only in a white, see through material."
Malfoy fell onto his bed, letting out a low whistle. "Merlin, Loony just got a hell of a lot more interesting."
"Off you go then." Harry said encouragingly.
"Hey now, I need to think this through! Don't rush me!"
"Don't care. Out. Now!"
"And where am I supposed to go?!"
"I believe Luna and Ginny are both in the same room. You might get really lucky tonight."
A wicked smile appeared of Malfoy's face. "Potter, I might owe you a big thank you in the morning."
Harry grabbed his arm as he turned way too quickly to leave. "Ginny is basically my sister. Touch her and you die."
Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Was she your sister when you were snogging her last year?"
Harry let his arm go, he had no counter argument. "Damnit…" he swore, stomping to the other side of the room and dropping onto the bed.

The hell of it was, he couldn't make himself shudder over it either. He didn't like Ginny that way, but she had been a good kisser. Not realizing it he began swearing some more.

"Losing your mind, Potter?" Malfoy asked amused.
"If you hadn't brought up incestuous thoughts I wouldn't be!" he growled.

It was then he noticed that Ron in one of his pictures was shaking his fist at them. Hell, they both deserved it.

"Just get out of here Malfoy," Harry rolled his eyes. "I highly doubt you'll score."
"We'll just see about that," he said quite confidently as he left the room.

Well, at least he was gone. He just hoped he wouldn't come back after being rejected and most likely hexed. After a few minutes of agonizing silence, he heard the doorknob turning. Brooklyn appeared in the doorway, quietly closing, and locking, the door behind her.

"Harry, why was Malfoy looking at Ginny and Luna like Christmas had come early?" She inquired.
He almost laughed at the mental image. "If I survive this, Ginny's going to hex me into next week."

To his surprise, Brooklyn did not laugh. She did not even crack a smile. Her face became a blank canvass, an emotionless mask as she walked, step by slow step towards him. As she grew closer, the lines in her brow began to show. The fear flitting behind her eyes was breaking through as she reached out a hand towards him.

"Don't say that. Don't even joke," she pleaded in a cracking voice.
"Brook, I was just..." he stopped short, knowing there was nothing he could say to make up for it.
"I just don't want this to be the end." She placed a shaky hand on his chest.
He covered her hand with his. "Let's not think about that. Not tonight."
She nodded solemnly placing her other hand on his chest.
"Wait…" Wandlessly, a silencing spell was slung towards the door. Somehow, looking at her, he knew that if he didn't do it now that he never would.

Turning his heavy gaze back to her, he watched her dark eyes sparkling in the dim moonlight filtering in through the windows. Her dark hair streamed haphazardly down her shoulders, and back, her form clad in average night clothes that somehow failed to take away any of the sensations coursing hotly through his blood. Suddenly her eyes changed, something melancholy mingling within her barely there irises, so widened were her pupils in the darkness. Concern flooded him in a way he would have found inexplicable only months before.

"Brook," he whispered, seeing her expression growing taunt before his eyes. "Brook, what's wrong?"
"Is this wrong? Doing this, on his bed?" she whispered tremulously, pointing a solitary finger towards the too-orange comforter gracing the very spot where his best friend once slept.

Harry's gaze flicked towards the picture on the nightstand, the one of all three of them, where Ron and Hermione were still a tempting to make him smile. Surprisingly he felt no shame, nor doubt as he answered her.

"No, I rather think he'd be rooting us on actually."

The image of Ron choose that moment to catch on to what was occurring on his bed, and immediately covered his eyes, dragging a gawking Hermione behind Harry's surly looking form. To be truthful, picture Harry looked rather annoyed that he wasn't getting to join in on the action.

Looking between her and the picture, Harry smiled sheepishly at his image friends. "Sorry guys," he said not unkindly, "but I'll spare you the rest."

And then he picked them up, setting them facing out on the windowsill so that the three separated friends could view the starry night once more.

"We're alive now, Brook. That's all that matters," he whispered. "What will come, will come. Whatever it is..."

He never finished, for she had crossed to him, her lips slanting over his with the unrelenting pressure he longed for and needed. If this was it, if this was the end, he was going to make sure it was unforgettable. Her scent traversed his senses again, washing away the trepidation of the upcoming battle. Freedom from anxiety, it allowed him to feel completely, experience things as he never had before. He had let go of everything, leaving himself as vulnerable as he could ever be just so he could give her the one thing he could never give anyone else: the essence of his very being.

And as more and more of their skin came into contact, he reveled in her warmth, the cool, salty sweat that began to form between them, the sensation of her lips exploring his body. His need for her was overwhelming, yet he let her continue her ministrations. Her lips found their way back to his and he longed for it to never end. But he yearned for something more and he pulled away gently, looking into her eyes he could wait no longer. The sensation alone left his breathing haggard as it coursed through his whole body with the slightest of movement.

Through the miasma he could hear her sounds, his name breathlessly leave her mouth, her absentminded struggle for dominance. He took it all in like he never had before, waiting for her until he could have his moment of idyllic satisfaction. She threw her head back and he instantly knew. And when the moment was upon him, sensory took over, leaving him in a tremulous state of gratification he had not fully experienced until that moment.

His arms enveloped her, placing sensual kisses on the side of her face. She sighed happily, turning her body toward him, her hands placed gently upon his chest. The moonlight showed her content, relaxed state. And as they gazed into what they could see of each others eyes, the fatigue began to set it. Her eyes fluttered shut first, another sigh escaping her lips as she nestled herself against him even more. Holding her tightly, he looked to the window, seeing the back of the picture frame he had placed there earlier. A ghost of a smile crossed his features. Wherever they were, he knew Ron and Hermione were smiling down on him. His eyelids grew heavy and he knew he needed all the rest he could get. Placing one last kiss on the top of her head, he allowed his eyes to close.

-----------------

"Everyone ready?"

The lot of them huddled into three separate groups, in the center of each a portkey to none other than Godric's Hollow. Harry was discreetly holding Brooklyn's hand in the tight cluster, Malfoy was located on his other side.

"Any luck last night?" Harry asked him casually.
"A gentleman never tells." He replied coyly.
Harry smirked. "That's a no then."
"You should be thanking me for sleeping on the couch." Malfoy said not so quietly.

Before anyone had a chance to react, the portkey was activated and they were off spinning into oblivion, waiting to let go. And after another not so pleasant landing, Harry found himself standing in the middle of a square. An eerie mist lay lowly over the village, and considering it was in the middle of the day, this was quite unsettling. As the last arriving group gathered themselves, one group set off to rid the village of as many muggles as they could, while the other two began striding toward their respected destinations.

Malfoy had warned of a cottage being utilized across the street from the Potter's old dwelling as sort of a base for Death Eaters. As soon as fighting would commence, Voldemort himself would stand waiting patiently in the graveyard for Harry to stray along.

Harry would go into the graveyard alone. He refused to do it any other way.

Harry stopped short of the rest of the group who were all standing outside of a gate surrounded property. He stared motionless at the blasted out second floor of the house, just being able to make out the remains of what appeared to be an infant's crib.

To his surprise he found Mrs. Weasley standing in front of him. "Harry dear, I'm so sorry you have to see this."

He nodded in acknowledgment, but showed no sign of emotion. Today, he had to be strong no matter what horrific sight was placed in front of him.

And he knew this was only the beginning of many.