The Dark Side of the Moon

Chapter 7

Pet Names

Professor Jaysen Burns strode out onto the Hogwarts grounds with long, lengthy strides the bright sun casting warm glowing rays across his lean figure as he moved. A mixture of muggle and wizard curses flitted from his tongue as he slipped in the muddy grass, fighting to maintain his balance on his journey to check his Grindylow traps in the Great Lake. His gaze remained on his feet and the sodden ground for the majority of his travel across the grounds, however as he neared the lake he halted, inhaling the cool morning air to catch his breath.

His blue-grey eyes fell closed and he pinched the bridge of his nose, his wire-framed glasses resting on his knuckles, at the sight that greeted him in the early morning light.

The crumpled form of a child was lying out across the ground, her body shockingly clean considering the muddy ground that surrounded her. One hand curled around her mouth as if stifling a cry or a scream, the other gripped the torn, white fabric of her nightgown over her legs, whether in an attempt to protect herself from the cold or some other demon Jaysen Burns was unsure.

Burns sucked in a large gulp of air, steeling himself for what he was sure was death, before carefully moving toward the girl. Placing his fingers to her neck, he choked down a sigh of relief at her faint heartbeat and he ran his fingers through her short, matted hair. "Oh sweetheart, what have you done?" he asked her unconscious form quietly.

Carefully, he lifted her into his arms, his bones protesting against her weight. "It's a good thing you're a little thing, honey," he told her softly, though she couldn't hear. "'Friad, I'm getting a bit too old to be carrying around pretty little things like yourself. And we've seemed to have made it a habit."

The journey to the Hospital Wing was a slow one, but to Burns' great relief it wasn't because he had to weave in and out of breakfast traffic.

Moon hung limply in his arms as he kicked open the doors, her head bobbling, her arm swaying lifelessly. Madame Pomfrey screamed at the sight.

"Whoa, whoa, Poppy, she's okay," crooned Burns as the nurse placed her hand over her mouth, aghast, running toward the pair. "She just spent the night out in the storm. I'm sure a bit of soup and tea will patch her right up." Madame Pomfrey withheld her opinion on that statement and ushered the professor into the room, guiding him to a bed.

Professor Burns watched with intrigue as the usually cool and collected school nurse went about checking Moon's vitals with shaking hands. At one point, Madame Pomfrey paused, pressing her hand to her forehead and harshly reprimanding herself.

"Poppy, are you okay?" asked Burns and the nurse brushed him off. A long while passed as Madame Pomfrey flicked her wand, casting numerous charms on the girl, summoned dozens of potions and coaxed Moon's unconscious body into drinking them, as the professor watched.

With a shuddering breath, Pomfrey stopped, and collapsed into the chair beside Moon's bed. "There was nothing in her system. Nothing," she sighed, shaking her head. Her worried eyes sought out those of the professor. "There's never been nothing before. Even before… She smokes. There should be at least traces of nicotine. And there's nothing."

Her companion nodded slowly. "The bruising on her cheeks, her lip was busted. Surely that—"

"No," interjected Pomfrey. "It wasn't enough to render her unconscious. It hurt, it stung, but it didn't incapacitate her. No, she took something." For the first time in her life, the nurse felt defeated she looked defeated — her head held in her shaking hands, her graying mousy brown hair falling limply around her face, her frail shoulders slumped. "She's afraid of thunder. Deathly afraid of thunder," she murmured. "She couldn't have gone out there without some sort of drug."

"Are you sure?" asked Professor Burns.

Madame Pomfrey laughed solemnly. "Yes. I'm sure." She stood, brushing Moon's short, crimson locks from her eyes. "She's still running a high fever and she'll be ill when she wakes. I'll keep her here for a few days. Will you let the Headmistress know?" Burns nodded once, smiling sadly at the nurse, he's brow furrowed in thought, before he turned to leave.

"Oh, and Jaysen?" called Pomfrey as he reached the doors. "If you'd not tell her about the drug, I'd greatly appreciate it. Lilith and I will discuss it when she wakes."

Burns agreed, his mind running wild with all sorts of confusing thoughts and ideas.

Draco Malfoy wasn't exactly sure of what he was doing, he only knew that if he didn't see her he wouldn't sleep, again. And, he wanted sleep, desperately. Guilty conscience or not, the previous night was the best sleep he'd had in ages. Slowly, he padded through the long, dark halls of the Hogwarts castle, after ditching the brushy-haired goody Granger, and up toward the Hospital Wing. Casting a charm on the door to the nurse's sleeping chamber as he a cracked the door to the wing open, he prevented her from being alerted to his presence. He slipped inside quietly and suddenly halted just inside at the sight that greeted him.

Lilith Moon swayed dramatically on her feet, one hand clutching the bedpost, the other held out before her like someone walking in the dark. Her breaths were wheezy and tears spilled from her eyes. She coughed hoarsely and tumbled forward. Malfoy watched, hypnotized, as she collapsed to the cold floor and her violet coughing intensified until she was curled up on her side gripping her chest as she hacked.

He stared at her for what seemed like hours before she fell silently and slowly dragged herself to a sitting position. Leaning against the edge of the bed, she tugged at the frilly pink lace at the edge of her nightdress, coaxing it to cover her legs. She tilted her head back and inhaled a deep breath. It was exhaled in another painful fit of coughing.

"Moon?" whispered Malfoy softly and she slowly forced her eyes open.

Numbed panic rapidly consumed her, but each of her attempted to escape him only agitated her cough, her headache, her raw throat, and eventually, she creased fighting. Let him do as he pleased, she thought exhaustedly. She couldn't fend him off anyway.

Malfoy observed her, enraptured with her frantic and pained attempts, and then with amazement as he watched it fade and her resolve to escape die, and be replaced with something new.

Striding across the room, with a slow, lengthy gait, he halted before her and roughly hoisted her up. Depositing her back on the bed, he brushed his hair from his eyes, attempting to ignore the prickling desire washing across him. "How are you?" he asked gruffly, perching in the chair by her bed.

Moon glanced at him warily before growling, "Get the fuck out." Her voice was a mere rasp, her body trembling, and her glower useless when it was cast through puffy, teary eyes.

"Tsk, tsk, little Moon," he reprimanded. "Such language is not fitting for a young lady." Moon attempted to glare more fiercely at him, however the effort only sharpened the pounding in her head and she was forced to close her eyes, tears sliding down her cheeks.

"Not well, I suppose is the obvious answer," drawled Malfoy, using her moment of blindness to his advantage. He stood, gently tugging her blanket over her shivering form. The heat of her fever warmed his hands as they brushed across her skin.

Her fingers curled in his silky blond hair and she jerked him away weakly, fighting down the urge to cough again. "Don't fucking touch me," she said firmly and he flicked his smoky grey eyes to her.

Wrapping his slender fingers around her wrist, he clucked his tongue again. "Little Moon, is that anyway to treat someone who is taking care of you. Honestly, now," he scolded her lightly, entwining his fingers with hers as he removed them from her hair.

A shudder ran up her spine and she attempted to rip her hand from him, he only tightened his grasp, digging his nails painfully into her skin. She whimpered and fell into a fit of violent coughing once more. When she managed to regain control, she whispered, "Please, I don't feel well. Just leave me alone."

Malfoy cooed mockingly. "I know, poppet." Stroking her hair, he pushed her back down onto the pillows, her painful coughs amusing him slightly. "I know," he breathed against her cheek, sitting on the edge of her bed. "Now, poppet, why don't you tell me where you were going?" he asked softly, trailing his fingers against her fever reddened cheeks.

"Bed," she answered, weakly shoving him away, praying for the nurse to emerge from her domain. When she realized her efforts were in vain, she pleaded, "Please, stop touching me."

"But, why?" questioned Malfoy. "You aren't panicking nearly as much as last time. And, by Merlin, Little Moon, I like the way you feel under my fingertips." His fingers slowly traced down the side of her neck, following the path of scars. She tilted her head away from him, crying faintly and he pressed a wet kiss to her hot cheek, tasting the salty remains of her tears.

"How about we make a deal, poppet?" he whispered into her ear. "You kiss me. Just once. And I'll go. No more questions, no more transparent fabrications from you. Just kiss me, and I'll leave you to sleep off this flu."

Moon nodded once, praying that Madame Pomfrey hadn't given her anything to prevent the virus from spreading. "Good," he breathed, tilting her lips back to him. Pressing his lips to hers softly, he felt her fever burn him and he groaned sliding his hand behind her head and pushing her more fully against him. As she parted her lips to welcome his desire to deepen the kiss, the panic her cold-drugged body had been numbing welled inside her and Malfoy greedily drank her scream.

Her taste was on fire as he devoured her. He couldn't get enough of it, the way she burned him, the way her panic enticed him. He was a fool for thinking just a taste of her would sedate him for the night. Her trembling, her panic, her raging heartbeat, how could he ever get enough of it?

Moon found herself stuck in a sort of limbo, unsure if she should purge her body of the invasion or just let him have his way with her so he would leave. Surely, he wouldn't fuck her when she was ill, she told herself. As the thought fled her mind, however, he straddled her, his erection pressing against her. She screamed again, placing her hands on his shoulders and desperately shoving him off. "Enough," she cried, "enough."

Malfoy was panting as he pulled away, his lips swollen and yearning for more. Chuckling coolly, he took her hand and placed it over his hardness. "This upset you?" he asked and she nodded.

"Please," she begged, "please. Not tonight."

Smirking, Malfoy rubbed himself against her hand. "But, when you're well." She trembled beneath him and shook her head. "Yes, Wednesday, after we finish our Runes assignment."

"No," she told him defiantly and leaned forward, biting into the soft flesh of her neck.

"Then, I suppose, I'll just fuck you now," he said angrily, rising up to glare at her coldly, her blood staining his lips. "People give me what I want, Moon," he hissed, ripping her blankets down and tossing them to the floor. "Because, people don't like me when I'm unhappy." Sliding his hand between her legs, feeling her burning heat, he whispered, "You'll be hotter now anyway, burning with fever, as you are."

Moon panicked, squirming away from him and Malfoy fisted her hair in his hand, increasing the shrieking pain in her head tenfold. "Wednesday," she gasped, coughs overtaking her again as her hysteria overtook her. "Wednesday."

Malfoy smirked and pressed a firm kiss above the pale lace of her panties. "Wednesday," he repeated and he was gone.

1) I'm not particularly fond of this… but, it was necessary. We can't have the girl spend the night out in a storm and be right as rain the next day, now can we?

2) For those of you impatiently waiting for more on Moon's past, that's up next.

3) Draco's a heartless bastard, isn't he? Last night he was guilty, tonight he's like 'Fuck guilty, I'm gunna fuck her!' He needs to be a bit more vulnerable, at some point, so that'll be arriving soon, too. It's just easier to write bastard Draco, than weepy Draco. -shrug- Yeah, I take the easy way out sometimes.

4) Thank you all for your delicious reviews and if I haven't replied to you personally, I apologize. I'm afraid a few review e-mails got lost in the process of cleaning out my files. I'm currently trying to go back and discover which ones they are manually. Very tedious work, I'm afraid.

5) Thanks so much for reading and you're support. After the last chapter's oh so yummy reviews, I'm itching to write more smut. So, expect that in the near future, I suppose.