disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, just Arabella and her story.
Well, friends, this chapter occurs during DH. It took me a while to get this chapter right because of the contents and it does happen twice.For those of you who do decide to read it, I hope you like it and any feedback writing these sort of things would be greatly appreciated!
The Long Night
Arabella closed the door behind her and turned around.
"Why did you do that?" she asked.
Harry shrugged. "Maybe because I wanted to and, well, I thought you wanted to as well."
The answer was quite surprising to Arabella – the absolute cheek of him, the pure boldness in his voice – as well as the gasp of laugh that came out of her mouth because of course, she wanted to kiss him. Of course – of course – of course! She always wants to kiss him, but she didn't think it was going to happen, especially since their last kiss was so rudely interrupted and they were forced apart for the sake of Dumbledore's mission. She sighed as the back of her head softly touched the wooden door.
"Listen," Harry began, his head up but eyes trained on the floor, "if you want me to go, I'll go, but I couldn't sleep knowing that there might be a chance…"
"A chance to kiss me?"
"Is there?"
Arabella didn't speak. She didn't know if words could possibly convey what he wanted to hear from her. She didn't know if words could do justice to what she wanted to tell him. There's was so much to tell him. Instead, she slowly walked towards him, staring at him as though this was the first time she has taken a good look at him. There was something in his tone she recognized – a slight worry, but that same boldness that continued to make her heart skip beats. His eyebrows twitched ever so slightly as she placed her hands on his chest. He was about an inch taller than her and she could see every bit of his face as clear as day. His emerald eyes were on her, the stubbles were recently cut, his jaws clenched at her touch, and why oh why did he have to look at her like that?
His eyes roamed her face, his expression softening as he took her in. She pressed two fingers against his bottom lip and his eyebrows arched up. She didn't know what was going to do or what she even wanted to do, but something inside her tugged her forward.
"Do you remember that night?" she asked him.
"Which night?"
"You know what I'm talking about, Potter."
Harry took both her hands into his and kissed her knuckles. "I think about it a lot."
"Do you trust me?"
"Arabella, you have more than my trust," Harry stated. "After all this time, how do you not know that?"
Her shoulders jerked upward for a second as his words hung in the air, almost repeating itself around her. It was a fact and a confession wrapped into a gift just for her.
"We don't have much time," said Arabella.
"Actually or figuratively?"
"Both," she told him with a smile. "We're shit out of luck and we might as well make the most of what we have now. I'm not leaving this room and neither are you. So, what do you want to do, Mr. Potter?"
Slowly, he brushed the hair off her shoulder, cupped her cheeks, and leaned in. He pressed their foreheads together and kissed her lips. It was short, but long enough for a spark to ignite inside her. The kiss was a challenge. His thumb slid over the hollow of her throat, over her collarbone, and down to the first button of her pyjamas.
The cool air kissed her flesh and her own fingers fumbled at the strings of her pants. Her finger quickly went to the hem of his shirt and helped him out of it. Soon enough, they were standing in their undergarments and a smile bloomed over Harry's face as Arabella looked away, her cheeks burning red at the image in front of her.
"Nervous?"
Arabella sighed and turned back to him. "You're an ass, Potter."
"Well, I think you have a nice one, Black."
Arabella let out a small snort and shook her head. She checked over her shoulder to make sure the room was locked and then turned back to Harry. She lightly pushed him towards the bed until he sat down, looking up with an expression that threatened to completely devour her. He places his fingers against her hips and they were so incredibly soft her skin. The hairs on her arms stood up and something in the back of her mind purred and moaned for him to just take her against the wall, for her to feel him relentlessly until neither one of them could move anything. But this moment, this tiny, fleeting moment… she could not let it end like that. She couldn't let it end in an instant they would both regret.
"You're overthinking this," Harry whispered.
"I know," said Arabella, simply.
She moved closer and kissed the top of his head as his arms circled around her. She curled her fingers in his hair and wanted to feel more of him, all of him, but she had to make this last. The space between her legs was growing warmer and she felt very greedy as she grasped his hand and began moving it against her thighs to where she needed him to touch. He took in a sharp breath against her skin as she gasped when he moved his fingers – oh, that's the spot.
"Th – There," she said breathlessly as he moved his fingers again.
Jolts of pleasure were sent up her spine as Harry pressed himself closer, his mouth now against her navel and her fingers digging into his scalp. It was all too much and all to fast, but what she was feeling was beyond words, beyond comprehension and the growl that came from within her was a little too loud –
Harry's hand snaps towards her wand and then instantly at the door.
"Silencio!" he whispers.
Nothing happens as Harry places her wand back on the bedside and they both stare at each other, panting.
"I always thought we might do this again," he said, stalling with his fingers on her hips. "But I never thought it would be like this."
"How did you think it was going to be?" she asks him.
"Certainly not a frantic fuck on Bill and Fleur's mattress, especially if this is going to be… well, you know…"
The dread and the truth loomed over them and Arabella hated him for reminding her of it.
"Yeah, I do," Arabella whispers. "But if we don't," she continues, her voice very small, "I'll be very angry with you for putting me in this situation. Don't make me beg."
"I would never…" He paused and then declared, "Arabella."
His voice was full of want and wonderment and there was no turning back. Not for her. He said her name like it was a sentence that should tell her all she needed to know about him and what he was feeling. This could be their last time together. He knew it and so did she. So why not live for just one more night? Why not just stop thinking about the future and focus on them, on their warm skins, their wondering fingers, their greedy needs?
He stands up, walks around her, and undoes her bra. Her underwear follows shortly and she can feel him move against her, taking his boxers off. A tingle spreads through her body and for a second, nothing happens. She raises her hands to cover her arms, but then realizes that he's staring at the new scars against her back. His fingers lightly touch them and she flinches away, shaking her head vigorously.
"Don – Don't, please don't do that," she chokes, moving away from him and towards the window. "Just don't touch them, please don't do that."
"Okay, I won't – "
"I'm – I'm ashamed of them," she blurts out, covering herself with her arms. "I shouldn't have – I never should have left and – and these scars –"
"You shouldn't be ashamed –"
"I am! It's – they're on here because of me and – I – I never should have left –"
"You did what you thought was best," Harry told her with a strong tone, leaving no room for arguments. "I didn't like what you did, but you did what I would have done as well. And these scars aren't ugly or some sort of misfortune. These scars prove how resilient you are. I honestly can't think of anyone else in the world who could have gone through what you did and come out on the other side sane. I won't touch them anymore, so please, come here."
Slowly, and almost reluctantly, she walks back to him, shy and still ashamed. He cradles her face in his hands, caressing her skin, and tilts her head up. He kisses the bridges of her nose and she sighs against his skin before pushing him back against the bed. He looks up at her in surprise and tries to sit up, but soon collapses when she moves on top of him.
"Fleur gave me a lot of pillows when I first arrived," Arabella tells him with a tiny smile. "We should finally put them to use."
A small gasp leaves Harry's mouth as she rolls her hips forward. His jaws tense and when she does it again, his eyes flutter.
"As you wish," he whispers, his voice soft and breathless.
He kisses her and she tries to savour the taste of wine in his mouth, the smell of the salty sea clinging onto his skin, and the softness of his unruly hair. His caresses are gentle, his kisses rough but not unwelcomed, and the noise they both make drive her wild. It's been a while for them, more than a year, but she's only ever had him and he's only ever had her. It would be like coming home after a long night.
Her mind drifts back to that night, their first night, and it was strange to think that they would be so intimate and connected once more. The man beneath her was a different person than he was a year ago. The person on top was hardly recognizable. The memory seemed like a lifetime away, a small, warming memory that continued to dim and she found that she was fine with that. They were not the same, they certainly shouldn't be the same. Their bodies suddenly shifted, bringing her back to their current reality, the dark cloud hanging over them. They didn't have much time, he said what they were both thinking and, to a degree, she found she was fine with that too. Again, to a certain degree.
He moaned her name into her mouth and they shift once more, the weight of his body over her. Her legs parted for him and he settled between them with a sigh.
"Nervous?" Harry asks her, his emerald eyes shining.
Perhaps who they once were was not completely lost.
"No," Arabella tells him as she tucks a lock of hair behind his ear. "I've got you."
Something deep within her core tightens and twists as Harry pushes forward. The feel of him completely inside of her leaves her breathless as she digs her nails into his shoulder. A half-groan, half-moan emits from his lips as he buried his face against her neck, unable to move or possibly even think clearly. They both formed around each other perfectly and they struggle to find their breaths. He's swearing under his breath, profanities that would make every single Weasley blush, and she bit her lips, stifling a desperate noise that could wake the whole house up, Silencing Charm be damned.
He begins to move and she follows suit. A little sloppy at first, but they find their rhythm in no time and she sees stars above her as she scrabbles for something, anything to hold onto – the headboard, the sheets, his broad, broad, broad shoulders… His fingers are somewhere between her hair and the pillow, moving slowly around her, as though tracing every inch as to not forget this one moment. His face is still buried in the nook between her neck and shoulder, and he's kissing every inch he can reach. His thrusts are somewhere caught between agonizingly slow and rapid speed, and she is desperate for him to slow down, for there to be friction and time and a stillness that cannot be duplicated.
"Harry, Harry, I need you – need – oh my – I need you to stop – right now."
He let out a small whine as his hips stopped, but not completely. His hips are thrusting ever so slightly, as though they were moving in their own accord, and Arabella places her hands on them to stop him completely.
"Do you really, really, really want me to stop?" asked Harry, looking down at her with a pained look. "Like right now? Seriously?"
"Trust me. You do trust me, right?"
He let out a groan before nodding. "Yeah, of course. Sure."
"Okay, then. Get on your back."
Arabella found she quite liked the idea of him underneath her, looking up at her with marvel and lust. She liked the idea of slowly lowering herself down and angling her back. Their fingers are intertwined as she tilts her hips and she felt quite daring and powerful as they meet up again and again and again. He made her feel beautiful in ways that nobody else ever had and when he wraps an arm around her shoulders and brings her in for a kiss, she's in blissful agony. She switched positions hoping for this moment to slow down, for them to savour what they had left, but they simply got lost within each other. Harry held onto her with a firm grip, tilting her hips as she kissed his neck, the spot underneath his ear, his collarbone… Her voice was faint against his deep growls as his name lingered on her lips and she's trying not to stop because it's right there, there, there, there –!
And then she's consumed, burning and twisting and the words coming out of her mouth were pure gibberish. His mouth covers her own as he continued to move, desperate and seeking his own release. The feeling of him still insider her and moving made her sign. She wanted to remember this feeling – his hair between her fingers, his hand on her hips and legs and sides, their legs tangled together, and the heat of their breaths on each other's cheek. She whispers his name again and he suddenly snaps back against the pillows. She stares down at his face, contorted with something between euphoric pleasure and blissful grandeur. She moved against him once, twice, trice, and he shudders against her neck, unable to move any longer.
She tried her best not to collapse completely on top of him, to avoid putting so much weight on him, but his arms around her shoulders were unyielding and she liked being so close to him, to the point where she couldn't tell where his body began and hers ended. His breath was hollow and she let out an unsteady laugh.
"If you, um, ever want to do that again, just – just go for it," he panted.
She laughed again and moved closer to him, if that was even possible. She had no desire to move away. Her head was resting on his chest, her fingers tracing swirls against his skin, while his hand curved to the shape of her hips, trailing up and down. She listened to the rhythm of his heart expanding underneath her as the lump in her throat grew.
"You look like a mess," Harry whispered suddenly, his fingers twirling a lock of her hair.
Arabella lifted her head and looked at him with an insidious smile. "You look like more of a mess than me."
"Perhaps," he said, shrugging a shoulder. "But nobody ever looks at me when I'm out with you –"
"You're the Boy-Who-Lived, what on earth are you talking about?"
"And you're simply the most beautiful woman in the world."
"Oh, shut up."
She pulled away from him and he quickly grabbed her arm, pulling her back. She turned her head towards him once more, her grey eyes roaming his features while his bright green did the same. He then leaned in and this kiss was much slower than before. Softer. Gentler. This kind of kiss could stop time, stop the earth from rotation, pause the sea, clear the sky, and bring colour back into her life. This kiss was worth everything.
Harry woke up the next morning, a little groggy, with his arm searching for something beside him. When he found nothing, he lifted his head and saw the space next to him empty. There was no sign of Arabella in the room. Her wand was still on the side table, but no Arabella herself. He turned his head and saw the bathroom door slightly ajar and a bright light shining through. It was still dark outside early this morning and he supposed they should get their day started sooner rather than later.
He slowly stood up and made his way towards the bathroom, trying to be as quiet as possible. The door creaked open as he stepped through. Arabella looked at him from the freestanding bathtub. She was sitting there with a peaceful look on her face, her hair up, and the water up to her shoulders. She looked slightly surprised but pleased.
"I – I can leave if you want," he added, his cheeks turning red.
"What, why?" she asked, her voice full of mirth. "You've already seen me naked. There's nothing to be embarrassed about."
"Well, I mean, if you want some privacy…"
"No, I'd love some company. If you want to join me."
With a small smile, Harry joined her in the rather small and awkward tub. He slid in behind her and pulled her close to him, almost pinning her to his chest. The water was near boiling and he wondered how she could possibly sit in this with ease. After a few seconds, he found that he didn't mind the situation at all. Arabella was practically sitting on his lap, her muscles relaxed and humming quietly to herself. The water didn't seem so bad after all.
"This is nice," he commented.
"It is," she whispered, moving closer towards him.
He kissed her cheek and held her closer. "I need to tell you something."
"Hmm? You breaking up with me or something?"
"Arabella –"
"I understand that you might want to see other people, Harry, but I don't think it's a good time considering there's a lunatic out there waiting for you –"
"Arabella," he said loudly, "just let me tell you something. Give me a minute, please."
Arabella dropped her smile and turned her head a little towards him. "Is everything all right? What's wrong, Harry?"
"Last night was, well, it was great and I just… look, I want to say it, but I shouldn't, but you know what I mean right? You know what I'm talking about, don't you?"
The look on her face made him realize she knew what he was talking about immediately. They understood each other perfectly, more so than anyone else in the world. He loved her for that.
"I know what you're talking about. I don't think I've ever said it before – actually, I don't think we've said it to each other at all. I've always thought that, well, you might and I might and all that, but… it never seemed right saying it."
"There was never a right moment," he added. "And even now, if one of us would say it, it would only be because we don't expect to live."
Arabella nodded and leaned her head back towards him.
"Even if," he continued, "I felt it every day and every moment I'm with you. When you're not in the room, when you're right beside me, when we're miles apart or just inches away from each other. It might be the only thing I know for sure."
He gave her a big, sloppy kiss on her neck, causing her to shriek and splash the water against him.
"Harry! What's wrong with you?"
"Clearly it's you. You've made me into a madman," he said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Come back, just for a couple minutes."
He wasn't planning on it, but couldn't help himself as he kissed her shoulder, her neck, and her ear as his fingers trailed up and down her arms. His other hand was resting gently on her thigh and he felt her tense against him.
"Harry," she said, her voice throaty.
"Just… just let me do something. For you. I want to."
He's had it in his head since last night and he's got a general idea for years. His nails scratched gently across her skin as they went upwards on her inner thighs. Instinctively she pressed her legs together and he let out a low chuckle.
"It's just me. Here."
His fingers slip between her legs and Arabella lets out a whimper that seemed to come from the back of her throat. The face she made yesterday when he did this could only be described with one word – awe. He wanted to do it again. For her. Only her.
"Ha – Harry –"
"Yes?"
He slips a finger inside and chuckles as she jolts up. He's not quite sure what he's doing, it's all based on instinct and Arabella's small encouragements. She was so incredibly soft, not just there, but everywhere and he wanted her to feel good and feel him.
He presses a thumb down and the noise that came out of her mouth is imprinted in his brain. His thumb circles her skin carefully as he slips another finger insider and his other hand cups the weight of her breast. He pinches and twists her nipple as he croons nonsense in her ear. There were times when he shifted his fingers or experimented with various angles, and it seemed to drive her wild. She grips the sides of the tub as her moans got louder. He turned her head towards her and kissed her roughly, their lips moving furiously against each other as she chases after her release that he was more than happy to help with.
Her hips bucked against his hand and her hand snapped towards his, stopping him from moving. She moves her hips once, lets out a small moan, and collapses against him, her chest heaving.
"I've never done that before," he said suddenly.
Arabella let out a small huff. "You're unbelievable."
For a moment they sat there like that, her pressed against his chest and him in awe of what had transpired. He looks at her, moves her damp hair away from her cheek, and kisses her cheek – or at least tries to. She moves her head at the last second and he smiles at her before pressing their lips together.
"I meant what I said earlier," he whispers, as though he didn't want anyone else to hear them in the private room. "About how I feel about you. It's not like this with anyone else. I double it will ever be even if I tried. I know you have a hard time believing it, but it's true."
"I feel the same way, Harry," she told him earnestly. "I just don't want to say it because… our chances are so slim and… if I said it and something happened to us? I think I'd go mad. I wish we had more time."
He gave her a small nod. "But the time we did have, it was…"
His voice trailed off, unable to properly think of the correct word that could somehow, someway summarize their relationship. It was impossible to find and when she smiled, he knew she felt the same.
"Unexplainable, isn't it?"
"I guess we're just special that way," said Harry.
"Oh, we're something for sure."
They shared a small laugh and Arabella leans in, quickly kissing his cheek. Nothing sexual about it, not even she rises from the tub to dry herself off. Just comfort. Bliss. Domesticity. This is the Arabella he wrote a letter to Remus about. This is the Arabella he wants to spend the rest of his life with, no matter how small that might be. She was his as he was hers. They chose each other over and over again, and he wouldn't have it any other way. Perhaps this is all temporary and he's simply fooling himself, but for a moment, for this small moment, everything was suspended and he could simply pretend.
Harry rises from the tub and dries himself off. He looks at the reflection in the mirror and lets out a long sigh. It was going to be a long day ahead. He needed to keep his head on straight for what they were about to do. He walks back into the bedroom and practically gets ambushed by Arabella, pressing herself against him, her hands and fingers in his skin, and her lips moving against his.
"I didn't want to do this in the tub," said Arabella, her hands trailing downwards.
"Do – Do what?"
"Just simply returning the favour, Mr. Potter."
Thank you so much for reading!
It feels like this chapter is slightly more mechanical than the previous attempt at something like this. Let me know what you all think of it or if I made any grammar mistakes! Until next time, friends!