Chapter Five: Bitter Desires; Remorseful Denials
Disclaimer: Yet again, I don't own Harry Potter anything, nor do I own Dragon Lance anything. No matter how hard I try I can't get a hold of Raistlin. darn. Well the rating of this chapter just skyrockets at the end. I think it is at least R by now. Oh well. I happen to have enjoyed writing this particular chapter, and hope you see why at the end. I feel a little connection the end because a good friend and I, no names, starting seriously fighting through IM as I wrote the cliffhanger part. I wanted to go on, but couldn't as this seemed to fit what was happening with me.
I wanted him.Harry lay on his four poster bed with the curtains drawn about him. The room was empty and dark. No one had come up to the room yet. He thought back on everything that had happened after leaving the empty classroom. The corridors had been almost empty, but Harry had still felt as if all eyes were focused on him as he went back to the Gryffindor common room. Everyone seemed to look up as Harry passed through the portrait of the Fat Lady. He blushed and stared at his feet, feeling that every one of them knew exactly what had happened. Thinking involuntarily on what had happened, he hurriedly ran up the stairs to the boy's dormitory. He threw himself on his bed as thoughts of Draco's kisses filled his head. No he was trying to sort through the jumble of his thoughts and feelings. Harry heard someone coming up the stairs and buried his head in the pillows. The door slowly creaked open. "Harry?" It was Ron. Harry wanted to jump up and yell at him to leave, but remained lying quietly in bed. "Are you up, Harry?" Ron was standing next to his bed. Still he didn't move; he couldn't let Ron know. He heard Ron close the door and walk back down the stairs. Harry looked at the clock. It was time for dinner. No wonder Ron had come up. Harry gazed at the ceiling remorsefully. His thoughts turning to Draco against his own will. I wanted him. Harry mused in disgust. I wanted to be with him in those few moments before. Before what? Before when? He touched his fingers to his neck, feeling Draco's graceful hand there. Again gentle lips pressed against his, but this time Draco wasn't actually here. It was all in Harry's head. His eyes flew open. "I still want him." He gasped hoarsely. "You still want who, Harry?" whispered someone in the dark. "Ron? Is that you?" Harry reached for his glasses as Ron lit the light. "Yeah, who else would it have been?" "But I heard you leave." "No, that was Herm. She decided someone should stay with you because you were acting strange. So I stayed because she technically isn't allowed up here." It made sense. She had followed him in and said nothing. Ron had lay down to stay with him, and it had been Herm he had heard leave. Harry cursed himself for a fool. "So who do you want, Harry?" Ron suddenly looked very nervous. "And in what way do you want him?" Harry flushed, thinking of Draco's soft lips and gentler fingers. Looking up, he caught Ron's eye and grinned slightly. "No Ron, it isn't you." He sighed as he lay back down and closed his eyes. Warm hands ran up his arms, and then continued the journey back down his sides. His skin almost glowed with the flame that touched his flesh wherever the fingers went. Soft and full lips caused all reason to melt and flutter away on the breeze that was his own laborious breathing. His whole body quivered uncontrollably as the lips caressed his neck, and then moved back to his own lips again. A hot, sweetly throbbing tongue found its way into his mouth; running rampant with his desires. Strong yet immensely gentle fingers brushed over his naked body with a lustful persistence. He lifted his eyes to meet those of his seducer, and was caught in the pure emerald gaze of his worst enemy. Draco's eyes flared open. NO! He wanted to scream that he didn't love Potter. He didn't want the Boy-Who-Lived. He would never look at Harry with lust, desire, and longing. Draco realized what he had been thinking. I want him. I want him so badly I can still taste him in my mouth from those kisses. He admitted to himself silently. But he will never know. Having made this silent vow, Draco got out of bed and took a very cold shower. Krista's silver-gray eyes slowly fluttered open. For a moment, she didn't know where she was. Turning her head toward the window, she saw soft moonlight reflecting off the silver plates still set out on a small table. Suddenly everything came flooding back. Her confession, Raistlin's spell, her last sensations as she fought its affects, everything. Her eyelids squeezed tightly shut against bitter tears. As she passed her hands over her face and wept, a hollow sob was wrenched from her lithe body. "Ah, the spell finally wore off." Interrupted a softly whispering voice. "I never cast it on someone just so they would rest. Usually it was in battle or self-defense, and I didn't stay to find out how long until it passed." Muttered the voice conversationally. She lifted her tear-burning eyes and gazed into mild, molten gold ones. Sitting beside the bed, staff over one shoulder, was a very nonchalant Raistlin. "You-you." she groaned, unable to find words for her contempt. "I did nothing more than cast a sleeping spell on you. I have been sitting her letting you sleep since." Krista's eyes opened wide. "You mean you didn't-" "No, I didn't do more than lay you in bed so you wouldn't be cold or uncomfortable. Although a sleeping spell would probably be the only way I could ever be with a woman in any way, I have no such intentions. At least, I have no such intentions against the woman's will." She flushed brilliantly. "Then why did you cast the spell on me?" "You seemed like you needed the chance to truly push your worries aside and rest. As if you never had a chance to lay things aside, and I decided to give you the chance." Raistlin turned his eyes to the window as Krista lay back down in the soft quilts. "Thank you." She whispered gently. His head whipped around to stare at her, his eyes wide. "Y-y-you're welcome." He stumbled slightly over the unfamiliar words. Words that hardly if ever came to his lips. No one had thanked him for anything before. Well perhaps Bupu thanked me at one point, but if so I forgot about it. He smiled slightly as he though of the small gully dwarf. Krista saw the warm smile spread across Raistlin's thin lips. For once he didn't look cruel or cynical; he looked almost human again. Silvery-gray irises met golden ones as he lifted his gaze to her beautiful face. He found himself leaning closer to her; desiring her arms around him. These carnal desires were new to him, but he found himself unable to even begin to refuse them. She leaned toward him, drawn in by his molten gold irises. She wanted the warmth promised by a passionate closeness to his glittering, gold skin. Raistlin rose slowly from his chair as he moved closer to her. An overwhelming, burning, zealous fervor swept over him as his fingers lightly brushed her feverishly hot cheek. His hand cradled her neck and head sensitively as his moist breath brushed over her cheeks and dampened her skin. She lifted her lips to brush sensuously across his. His whole body quivered with lustful inclinations as his free hand moved from her arm to her side and ran over her waist. His fingers brushed artfully across her hip and drifted down farther to leg. As his hand began to drift toward her inner thigh and up slightly, the door was thrown open and a roar split the tense, electrified air. "Krista!" Bellowed a deep voice from the doorway. Both sensualists' head snapped up. Two pairs of eyes, still containing lingering traces of lust, widened alarmingly as they were met by the cold, hard stare of two black ones. Sirrus had come looking for his twin sister when she hadn't shown up for dinner, and now he had found her.
Disclaimer: Yet again, I don't own Harry Potter anything, nor do I own Dragon Lance anything. No matter how hard I try I can't get a hold of Raistlin. darn. Well the rating of this chapter just skyrockets at the end. I think it is at least R by now. Oh well. I happen to have enjoyed writing this particular chapter, and hope you see why at the end. I feel a little connection the end because a good friend and I, no names, starting seriously fighting through IM as I wrote the cliffhanger part. I wanted to go on, but couldn't as this seemed to fit what was happening with me.
I wanted him.Harry lay on his four poster bed with the curtains drawn about him. The room was empty and dark. No one had come up to the room yet. He thought back on everything that had happened after leaving the empty classroom. The corridors had been almost empty, but Harry had still felt as if all eyes were focused on him as he went back to the Gryffindor common room. Everyone seemed to look up as Harry passed through the portrait of the Fat Lady. He blushed and stared at his feet, feeling that every one of them knew exactly what had happened. Thinking involuntarily on what had happened, he hurriedly ran up the stairs to the boy's dormitory. He threw himself on his bed as thoughts of Draco's kisses filled his head. No he was trying to sort through the jumble of his thoughts and feelings. Harry heard someone coming up the stairs and buried his head in the pillows. The door slowly creaked open. "Harry?" It was Ron. Harry wanted to jump up and yell at him to leave, but remained lying quietly in bed. "Are you up, Harry?" Ron was standing next to his bed. Still he didn't move; he couldn't let Ron know. He heard Ron close the door and walk back down the stairs. Harry looked at the clock. It was time for dinner. No wonder Ron had come up. Harry gazed at the ceiling remorsefully. His thoughts turning to Draco against his own will. I wanted him. Harry mused in disgust. I wanted to be with him in those few moments before. Before what? Before when? He touched his fingers to his neck, feeling Draco's graceful hand there. Again gentle lips pressed against his, but this time Draco wasn't actually here. It was all in Harry's head. His eyes flew open. "I still want him." He gasped hoarsely. "You still want who, Harry?" whispered someone in the dark. "Ron? Is that you?" Harry reached for his glasses as Ron lit the light. "Yeah, who else would it have been?" "But I heard you leave." "No, that was Herm. She decided someone should stay with you because you were acting strange. So I stayed because she technically isn't allowed up here." It made sense. She had followed him in and said nothing. Ron had lay down to stay with him, and it had been Herm he had heard leave. Harry cursed himself for a fool. "So who do you want, Harry?" Ron suddenly looked very nervous. "And in what way do you want him?" Harry flushed, thinking of Draco's soft lips and gentler fingers. Looking up, he caught Ron's eye and grinned slightly. "No Ron, it isn't you." He sighed as he lay back down and closed his eyes. Warm hands ran up his arms, and then continued the journey back down his sides. His skin almost glowed with the flame that touched his flesh wherever the fingers went. Soft and full lips caused all reason to melt and flutter away on the breeze that was his own laborious breathing. His whole body quivered uncontrollably as the lips caressed his neck, and then moved back to his own lips again. A hot, sweetly throbbing tongue found its way into his mouth; running rampant with his desires. Strong yet immensely gentle fingers brushed over his naked body with a lustful persistence. He lifted his eyes to meet those of his seducer, and was caught in the pure emerald gaze of his worst enemy. Draco's eyes flared open. NO! He wanted to scream that he didn't love Potter. He didn't want the Boy-Who-Lived. He would never look at Harry with lust, desire, and longing. Draco realized what he had been thinking. I want him. I want him so badly I can still taste him in my mouth from those kisses. He admitted to himself silently. But he will never know. Having made this silent vow, Draco got out of bed and took a very cold shower. Krista's silver-gray eyes slowly fluttered open. For a moment, she didn't know where she was. Turning her head toward the window, she saw soft moonlight reflecting off the silver plates still set out on a small table. Suddenly everything came flooding back. Her confession, Raistlin's spell, her last sensations as she fought its affects, everything. Her eyelids squeezed tightly shut against bitter tears. As she passed her hands over her face and wept, a hollow sob was wrenched from her lithe body. "Ah, the spell finally wore off." Interrupted a softly whispering voice. "I never cast it on someone just so they would rest. Usually it was in battle or self-defense, and I didn't stay to find out how long until it passed." Muttered the voice conversationally. She lifted her tear-burning eyes and gazed into mild, molten gold ones. Sitting beside the bed, staff over one shoulder, was a very nonchalant Raistlin. "You-you." she groaned, unable to find words for her contempt. "I did nothing more than cast a sleeping spell on you. I have been sitting her letting you sleep since." Krista's eyes opened wide. "You mean you didn't-" "No, I didn't do more than lay you in bed so you wouldn't be cold or uncomfortable. Although a sleeping spell would probably be the only way I could ever be with a woman in any way, I have no such intentions. At least, I have no such intentions against the woman's will." She flushed brilliantly. "Then why did you cast the spell on me?" "You seemed like you needed the chance to truly push your worries aside and rest. As if you never had a chance to lay things aside, and I decided to give you the chance." Raistlin turned his eyes to the window as Krista lay back down in the soft quilts. "Thank you." She whispered gently. His head whipped around to stare at her, his eyes wide. "Y-y-you're welcome." He stumbled slightly over the unfamiliar words. Words that hardly if ever came to his lips. No one had thanked him for anything before. Well perhaps Bupu thanked me at one point, but if so I forgot about it. He smiled slightly as he though of the small gully dwarf. Krista saw the warm smile spread across Raistlin's thin lips. For once he didn't look cruel or cynical; he looked almost human again. Silvery-gray irises met golden ones as he lifted his gaze to her beautiful face. He found himself leaning closer to her; desiring her arms around him. These carnal desires were new to him, but he found himself unable to even begin to refuse them. She leaned toward him, drawn in by his molten gold irises. She wanted the warmth promised by a passionate closeness to his glittering, gold skin. Raistlin rose slowly from his chair as he moved closer to her. An overwhelming, burning, zealous fervor swept over him as his fingers lightly brushed her feverishly hot cheek. His hand cradled her neck and head sensitively as his moist breath brushed over her cheeks and dampened her skin. She lifted her lips to brush sensuously across his. His whole body quivered with lustful inclinations as his free hand moved from her arm to her side and ran over her waist. His fingers brushed artfully across her hip and drifted down farther to leg. As his hand began to drift toward her inner thigh and up slightly, the door was thrown open and a roar split the tense, electrified air. "Krista!" Bellowed a deep voice from the doorway. Both sensualists' head snapped up. Two pairs of eyes, still containing lingering traces of lust, widened alarmingly as they were met by the cold, hard stare of two black ones. Sirrus had come looking for his twin sister when she hadn't shown up for dinner, and now he had found her.
