NOTE

Sexual content.

19. Of Her Pleasure

Snape left the potion one hour before sunset on the final day. I sat by the fire and waited for Remus to come.

The light was already leaving the sky when he entered the room, anxious and agitated. His eyes glowed as he walked towards the desk where the smoking goblet sat, his gaze only flickering to me once, as though by accident.

My skin prickled with anticipation. I watched him drain the goblet, and then touch his throat with two fingers. The silence was deafening.

The slightest hint of movement rippled through him, but I stopped him with my voice. "Don't go."

I stood from my chair and slowly walked towards the door, standing in front of it. His eyes were full of dread and his voice was strained with vexation. "I would hurt you."

"That doesn't matter right now."

"Shut up, Wilma, of course it matters!"

I flinched at the volume of his voice, and couldn't pretend that his words didn't sting. But I wouldn't be defeated. He had been avoiding me like the plague for the past week, but I still had his mother's ring around my finger. That meant everything.

His body was still, but full of intent to leave the room. I steeled myself. "You don't know what they'll do if we don't follow the law," I said. "I'd rather whatever happens between us than what they would do. If it would make you feel better, I can go to Poppy afterwards."

"You don't understand!" he shouted. I clenched my jaw as he raked his hands through his hair and pulled on it in frustration. "This is bloody ridiculous."

I looked at the window and saw through it the darkening sky. "Remus, please," I said, my voice higher than usual.

He shook his head. "Absolutely not."

But I was blocking his way to the door, and I made myself stand taller as he made his slow approach.

"I will move you," he threatened. I'd never seen him like this before, and suddenly I wasn't so sure that he was just putting it on to intimidate me. We shouldn't have left it to the final hour, when he had such little control, but it wasn't my fault that he'd denied my previous propositions.

A rush of fear unfurled through my body, but rather than shrinking away I stood my ground. Remus stopped a mere breath away from me, and I looked up at his burning eyes.

"Wilma," he warned. "Move."

But before he could force me, I trapped his hands in mine, and kissed them.

"Don't..." he said. But I could feel his resolve weakening already. He didn't pull away. Firmly, I led his hands to my breasts. I felt my own body respond, my nipples growing hard. My shirt was thin and I wore no brassiere, and I knew he could feel them, pressing into the centres of his palms.

"Please," I whispered. He looked at me and trembled, and there was a change in him. I felt an unfamiliar power radiating from his skin. His eyes were hot.

I had won.

There was no time for breath, even for shock, as he suddenly embraced me and seized my lips in a compulsive kiss. My mouth fell open to his invasion and I clung to him for dear life as he pushed me against the door. He was quite forceful, and my heart quickened with instinctive fear, but I didn't care. It was happening.

I realised that I'd never been close to him–not even in the same room–on the evening of a full moon. His body was hot to the touch, and either he had always held back half of his strength, or he was suddenly twice as strong.

He kissed me brutally, and I was surprised at myself for enjoying it. I should have been more afraid, but I only wanted to go further. "The bed–" I gasped, when he finally released my mouth.

We hurried, tearing at each other, up the aisle between the desks of the classroom and up the stairs to the bedroom. Remus shut the door loudly and grabbed me again, pulling my knee to his thigh and half-carrying me to the bed. His body was full of power and weight, and as he fell over me I began to throb between my legs.

He fiercely took off my shirt, the buttons popping away and scattering across the bedcovers, and he roughly yanked my trousers off. There was no patience, no gentleness in this–but I wanted him exactly as he was. My senses were drowned from the overload of awareness. There was no resistance; everything was simple.

My mind reeled as he kneaded my breasts in his hands, and when he wedged his knee between my legs I shamelessly wailed.

My hands went down to help him free himself, but he slapped me away and kissed me again. The depths of my throat vibrated with his growl, and offered it back up as a gentle moan. I absorbed the wild look in his eyes as he spread my knees wide and entered me.

From the first moment I was shaking and helpless with pleasure. I cried aloud as Remus jerked my hips upward, forcing my back to arch, and sucked at my breasts. I was imagining things, or he had swollen larger than he had before. I was at the edge of my ability, a shaking mess as he did what he had never done, holding my hands firmly against the bed. His body was burning and shaking, pounding into me as he shouted with desire.

My whole body hurt with need. It was unlike any sensation I'd felt before. My hearing was blocked; everything was blocked except for his body, which slipped through every defence and inflicted desperate pleasure. His every touch sent sparks through my blood. I was on fire with overwhelming rapture, the deepest I'd felt in my life. My mind was far away.

I came quickly, a shout of pleasure ripping through my throat. But Remus wasn't finished, and as his thrusts grew harder I felt a second wave of explosive release building to a peak. I was reduced to wailing incoherently as I came a second time, my body shuddering violently. Remus finally climaxed with a roar, his whole body crashing against me, leaving my head thick and buzzing. I felt him claw at my lower back, felt blood trickle across my skin. I moaned, my mouth dry and hot, and the sound vibrated from the tips of my fingers to the tips of my toes.

The slight sting of the scratch he'd left on my back merged with the throbbing pleasure that pooled throughout my whole body, soothing the burn of my desire like rain. I was nothing more or less than a shimmering puddle of bliss. Remus was still clinging to me, his hips twitching every few seconds, his erection continuing to throb deep inside my core.

It was a long time before he spoke, as though he were coming out of a dream.

"Wilma?" he asked, his voice so gentle, so at odds with the instincts I'd just witnessed dominating him.

At first I couldn't respond, my vision blurry, my ears ringing. I was apart from the world, in a distant realm of deep sensations that was ever so hard to escape.

"Wilma?" he said again, his voice panicked. His body withdrew and I groaned from the loss. He shook my shoulders desperately, lifting me up. My neck was limp and I struggled to hold up my head. "Are you hurt?"

"No," I managed, my voice hoarse.

He looked at me dubiously, but I squeezed his hand with what little strength I had left. I wanted with my whole being for him to stay and hold me, but he had to go. Now.

"Go, Remus," I managed. "Go quickly."

He looked at the sun slipping out of sight outside the window and cursed. He softly lowered me to the bed and restored his clothing to a messy but acceptable state. Then he touched my face, his hand trembling.

"I love you," he said.

And then he ran from the room.

I heard my own heartbeat, the small stirrings of myself in the depths I so rarely probed, so rarely allowed others to see. Remus had torn me open in the most beautiful way. And then he had told me those words.

I told myself he'd only been overwhelmed with relief that I wasn't injured, and the words had slipped out. But I didn't believe it. I remembered his eyes at that moment, and knew he had meant it.

I moaned as I pressed myself up to sit. My arms quaked from adrenaline and heat bloomed in my belly as I moved. I moaned again as I slipped over the edge of the bed and managed to stand. My legs were liquid.

I took it slow, walking across the floor and putting my dressing gown on. It almost stung to pull the smooth silk over my sensitive skin. I limped to the window and watched the hill until I saw Remus running down it. The Whomping Willow froze in the darkness of the early night, and when I saw him disappear inside of the secret passageway, a singular relief flooded me. He would be safe.

I stumbled towards the safe haven of the bed and eased my body down, astonished. I turned his words over and over in my head like a piece of chocolate until they melted. I savoured the pain of the scratch he'd left on my back until my eyes slipped closed and my mind sank into a calm grey sleep.

When I woke at midnight the light of the full moon in the clear sky was bathing the whole room, and I couldn't even feel the scratch through the ocean of agony. The greatest bliss of my life had twisted and warped into the greatest pain. A deep, coursing pain, from which no part of myself was free. Something was terribly wrong.