Mad Snorkacks and Englishmen

All right, here we are back to the long, intense chapters. I hope it\'s getting clearer that Luna still has a bit of a problem, as does Harry. They\'ll make some mistakes along the way.



Sneakyfox, I feel like you and I are on the same wavelength on the matter of Hedwig. I was crushed. This chapter goes out to you.

SoftO, I was totally thrilled by your JKR comparison! Yeah, if she wrote a dirty version of DH, how interesting would *that* be?! I loved that idea, which is why I decided to stay within the framework of the book.



NutsAboutHarry, be careful! Lol, glad you had your inhaler around.



I was so tickled that you guys had such a fun time with the last chapter. Ah well, we know what happened next in the book, don\'t we? Dark clouds ahead.











Chapter 13: Ruby-Lipped Essence of Devon







Harry tried to drown out Ron’s snores as he lay in bed later that night. In just a few hours, everything had changed. His insides were still twisted in knots and that constant feeling of wanting to puke or scream his rage into the night, or to just start beating the stuffing out of whatever he could get his hands on would not leave him.





The Order’s subterfuge had somehow been uncovered and the guard had taken some devastating hits in a surprise attack. Harry was still reeling from the casualties. Moody, the intimidating warrior, had been taken out by an Avada Kedavra almost immediately. Then to find out that Snape, the same Snape who had made him feel like shit after he’d mistakenly used Sectumsepra on Malfoy, had sliced off George’s ear during the melee. Sick fucking bastard.





But nothing could have prepared Harry for the heartache of losing his touchstone, his one constant companion wherever he went, his familiar. Seeing Hedwig slump in his cage after being shot with the green curse had shocked Harry to his core. He’d not let anyone see how much he was affected because how could he possibly justify to them that he’d been more aggrieved by losing his owl than losing the retired Auror. It was all awful, however, and now that the stillness of the house descended on him, the weight of their deaths took up residence in his chest. He could barely breathe in the stifling attic room, as it was.





The remaining group had surrounded him as they all attempted to recover from the outcomes of the ambush, insisting that he had to accept their allegiance to him, that he was more than the face of a cause. But he couldn’t make them understand, could he? Having their lives hang in the balance to protect him, he couldn’t stand the responsibility of it. It made him sick to his stomach. Yet having to admit to himself that he needed their support was the most maddening of all. He had to be stronger; he couldn’t keep relying on other people to save his sorry ass out of every mess or to consistently endanger their own.





There had been so many moments in this perilous evening when he’d been convinced he had lost more. The noxious seconds he’d endured as he waited for Hagrid’s fallen body to move, then waiting for Ron to arrive after the portkey had returned without him; feeling responsible for the Tonks’ anxiety as they waited for their daughter to appear unharmed, all were minutes where he’d tried to ready himself for the worst.





Harry railed against that powerlessness in his mind, wanting to defeat it, defeat death. And through all of his anguish, one thought threaded through all the rest.





He needed Luna.





Harry felt like his entire body was calling out for her. Being stuck in this room, knowing she was out there, so close; he felt suffocated and angry, but mad with his bereavement and fear. Seeing Voldemort flying, then having his wand act without him, only to have the whole grisly drama devolve into one of Riddle’s mind rapes had left him shaken more than he cared to admit. He knew indubitably that what he really required to get himself back on an even keel was feeling her underneath him, being inside of her and letting her serenity infuse him, her submission soothe that manic freak at his center.





He took that restless longing and fixated it on a plan as he started to plot his way to her.







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In the morning, Harry watched everyone hustle around the kitchen as Weasleys and Order members weaved in and out for breakfast. When he had some time alone with Ron, the red-head warned him that his determined, finagling mother was on the prowl. She had already been pressing her son and Hermione for information on their plans to leave before school started in fall. Mrs. Weasley was not happy about the implied suggestion that the trio would not be attending their last year at Hogwarts. Harry felt he could handle her, though, and when she had cornered him a few hours later, he was ready for her.





Amidst all of the chaos last night, the conflicted teen had been very offended by Lupin’s aggressive cynicism. His one-time mentor had made him feel like an idiot, like a child, and he wasn’t about to put up with that. Harry might not always know what he was doing, but he had good instincts, he reasoned. They had a way of keeping him alive. He didn’t need the collective adults browbeating him into performing to their liking. He was his own man and they had better start getting used to it. Harry didn’t have the wherewithal to play the beleaguered, shielded innocent for them anymore.





As much as he felt beholden to their kindness, he wouldn’t allow it to coerce him into a course of action that he didn’t believe in. Dumbledore had trusted him to take up the sword and fulfill his destiny on his own, so Harry felt he could believe in himself, too. When Mrs. Weasley had dropped her pretense of mild curiosity after a few minutes of her inquisition and went for full-on disapproval, the young man merely shook his head at her in a flat refusal.





“Molly, I can’t tell you what we’re doing. I’m leaving; Hogwarts is not my priority now, and if Ron and Hermione want to come with me, you can’t stop them. We’re of age,” he insisted with a calm casualness that contradicted the rising forcefulness he felt swirling up from his gut.





Her trademark bossiness was no match for him today and he crossed his arms in an effort to convey the futility of her arguments.





Molly Weasley looked slightly taken aback at Harry’s forwardness in the use of her name. Her expression quickly adjusted to the matronly visage that had swooped down on his eleven year old self and shown him the first touch of loving affection he had ever recalled receiving. She was as good as his own mother, he knew, but he still had to walk away, set himself apart on this quest. She had to understand that he was past her mothering clutch, now.





“I see, Harry. I was hoping that you would stay for the wedding, though. I was expecting you to help us with all of the preparations. I’m going to need every hand available,” she laid on thickly. Harry felt a stab of guilt, but suppressed it as he smoothly assured her of his participation.





“I might need a bit of time to myself, though, Molly. I’m just trying to figure some things out. Do you need me after dinner?” He thought carefully about how he was going to approach his next question.





“Oh. Well, I suppose I can give you a break by then. I’m not trying to play taskmaster,” she smiled tightly, “but I would stay close to the house, if you were looking for a bit of privacy. Harry.” She nodded to him with a certain measure of respect that the teen seized onto before he spoke.





“Actually, I was planning on taking a short walk. Isn’t there a path that runs through the woods behind the garden? I seem to recall part of it when we left for the World Quidditch Cup. Does it lead to anywhere in particular?” he inquired impassively while still maintaining the stalemate he had reached with the older woman. Molly tried to check her concern, but gave him the information he sought.





“Harry, maybe you-uh, well, it goes on for a bit, but it runs by the Lovegood home and up to the Diggory place, eventually, opening up to top of the hills yonder. I don’t think we’ll be eating till late, though, dear, perhaps…would you do me the favor of taking your stroll beforehand, before it gets too dark outside?” Harry acquiesced with a nod of his head. “And would you just stay within the parameters of the wards? I worry about your cover if you get too far afield. Could you do that for me, please?” she asked him warily.





“Yeah, yeah, of course. I’m not trying to make things difficult for anyone, I just…needed some air,” he finished off somewhat lamely, but he wasn’t about to tell her of his true intention.





Without Hedwig, he felt too vulnerable asking Ron, or Merlin forbid, Ginny, for the use of Pig to send correspondence to his secret lover. There was just no excuse that sounded reasonable to him. He’d have to put his faith in his trusty cloak and hope to the gods that he could find Luna on his own. Harry would do whatever necessary to get to the girl. He was already going out of his mind with need.





The Weasley matriarch made sure she utilized every able body in the house as she disseminated her long, arduous list of chores to handle in the time left leading up to the wedding. Harry had been kept busy but separate from Ron and Hermione, a point that did not go unnoticed by the trio. As he wrapped up his last batch of chicken voulavent, Molly stayed true to her word and let Harry break free from work as Ginny looked on with some surprise.





He’d grabbed his cloak earlier and shrunk it down for his back pocket, keeping it on him at all times as Dumbledore had suggested months before. Walking out in to the garden, Ron glanced at him with some suspicion as he made another go round to de-gnome the backyard.





“Where you headin’ to? Mum, got you cleaning out the chicken coops yet?” he asked as sweat beaded up on his forehead.





The sun was only just starting its descent and the weather remained warm and humid while the sky was still lit. Harry felt a little bit bad that he’d gotten the cushier job, but Mrs. Weasley had discovered by chance that he possessed some talent in the kitchen and gave him the pastry chef detail.





Harry shook his head, “I’m just taking a walk. I’ll be back soon,” he claimed as he ran his hand back through his mess of locks.





“How the bloody hell did you manage that?” the gangly boy asked, mightily impressed by the fact that Harry got out of his duties already.





“I just told your mum I needed some space. It’s cool.”





He brushed off the significance of the moment with a casual wave of his hand as he bypassed Ron and headed for the path that led through the forested area. Ron gaped at his answer, but Harry ignored him and continued on his way, feeling self-conscious but adamant in retaining control of the situation. She was nearby, he realized, and he felt like he could just keep it together a little bit longer if he knew she was within reach. The boy’s body shook with tremors even in the heat of the last gasp of daylight.





Harry mused that he could have simply stole out of the house already draped in his cloak and spared Ron his flouting of Molly’s authority, but something in him wanted to show off. Blimey, he could be a real arse when he wanted to, he granted, but he convinced himself that it was all in the name of his driving urge to be with Luna. The stress of last night and his still to-be-dealt-with grief resurfaced in his throat, and Harry attempted to swallow around that hollowness that felt like a Bludger had settled under his tonsils as he trudged along.





He could see the sun sitting low through glimpses between the foliage a quarter of an hour later, but there was still no sight of a dwelling looming up ahead by the moors. Harry was starting to feel frustrated already. Having this solitude, however briefly, just brought back all of his despair in full force. The despondent teenager thought about Hedwig again and fought the tears which quickly sprang up at the lasting image of her demise, but he gulped hard and pulled his cloak over his head, as if hiding himself would somehow shield him from scrying forces looking for his weaknesses. He supposed in a manner he was doing just that.





It had been another hundred feet or so when he thought he heard something in the thickness of woods up ahead. Harry swore he heard a voice speaking, but couldn’t quite detect which spot it was coming from when the sound of tinkling laughter was echoing around him through the trees. The boy instinctively recognized that laugh, and began running ahead blindly trying to pinpoint the exact location of its owner. He was practically shaking now.





Luna was revealed before him then, a few yards ahead. She was bent forward and chatting amiably to what was ostensibly a lopped-off tree trunk, but Harry surmised was more than likely home to some enchanted creature of a sort. Her back was to him, and she wore a long, cream linen dress with a painter’s smock over the top. The girl’s hair was wrapped up in some semblance of a bun on the back of her head while her wand pierced its center holding it afloat. Harry immediately called to her.





When Luna turned around, her eyes in that exaggerated surprise, her hair cascading to her back as the wand was ripped suddenly free from its nest to point shakily at her unseeing intruder, Harry felt a great sob build up in his bosom and tear its way to his throat. His hands grasped the invisible material and yanked as he moved towards her, appearing before the girl while he watched her surprise turn to concern after she’d focused her gaze to him.





“Harry! Harry, what are you doing here? What is it, what’s the matter?”





Her worried inquiries fell rapidly from her lips as she ran up to him, and then Harry had his arms around her squeezing with all of his strength and his face tucked into her neck, breathing her scent in deeply as his mouth ground into her flesh. Their joining felt cataclysmic to the boy, as if by clinging to her the skies would open up in a barrage of thunder and lightning and the very earth would tremble below their feet.





Something clicked into place for him now, something inexpressibly profound and fortifying. He felt emboldened by her presence, reinvigorated enough to handle whatever troubles came his way. When he pulled back to look her in the face, he knew without seeing that his eyes were turning black, his voice grating its delivery in a hoarse whisper.





“Hedwig is dead. Moody is dead. George has been seriously mutilated. Everything went to shit the minute we were up in the air,” he bit out in seething pronouncements. Luna’s pupils dilated as her eyes grew steadily bigger and more watery at each issue. She went to put her hands to the sides of his face.





“Oh, Harry; how horrible. I’m so, so sorry. Tell me what happened. Start at the beginning,” she implored, but Harry didn’t want to talk in details, he didn’t feel the need to make sense.





His hands were now gripped tightly around her upper arms, so hard that he imagined he was probably leaving bruises, but all he cared about was making her listen, knowing she would understand him even without the right words.





“I saw him. Voldemort almost had us. That fucker can fly on his own now. And then later, I was in his head again. He was torturing Mr. Ollivander, the wand maker, and he was furious with him; I could feel it running through me like a cancer. He’s poison in my system, it’s sickening, Luna. I’m never going to be rid of him until I kill him myself, am I? And the rest of them. They want me to be their cold-blooded assassin, but I’m supposed to smile and make hors d’oeuvres like everything is fine, go to school like a good little boy when I’m told, be whatever is expected and mind my manners. And when I get angry, when I yell, it’s like they’re making allowances for the pet dog that’s gone a bit daft, petting me to calm me down with those grim smiles. I can’t bear it, I tell you. I feel like I’m going mad!”





He finished spewing his tirade with his chest heaving as his body tried to draw in gusts of air. It had felt just like a vomit of speech, and now that it had all vacated his body in its violent purge, his head was clearer, his muscles less tense, his fingers loosening up on her arms. He knew what he needed to wash this all away now.





Harry pulled Luna fiercely against him and kissed her viciously. His tongue penetrated her mouth like his possession. His hand lay flat against the back of her head so he could push her into his lips with more force. He felt like a Dementor sucking out her soul.





When he suddenly pushed her away from him, he moved her up against a large maple tree. She was trembling now but resolved, waiting for his instruction, he could tell.





“Get your clothes off. I want them off this second. Move it,” he demanded when the girl didn’t spring into action right away.





She quickly remedied her mistake by flying her fingers up to the ties of her smock and pulling it over her head. Her hands grasped the button of her shapeless dress behind her neck and soon she was pushing the soft material down her shoulders and straight through to the ground. She wore no bra underneath, but Harry saw the return of her white cotton panties, functional and girlish. He couldn’t abide the innocence of youth they represented, and he stepped up boldly and grabbed at one end, pulling so hard he tore them against her skin as they broke away from her. She grimaced at the violence as her body jerked in the action.





Harry relished her expression. Yes, this was exactly what he wanted. Seeing her nudity presented to him all shining alabaster in the middle of the forest floor made him feel in charge again. Luna was his to control how he wished and what he wished was to consume her. The tingling under his skin grew hotter and the smell of her wet sex set upon him as if strands of mist were snaking their way out of her quim and lassoing their way up his form, pulling tight like thin gold cords in their potency. He felt besieged by her and was incumbent to return the favor.





“Put your arms up over your head,” he continued raggedly as he pulled his wand from his back pocket.





Thank be the gods he could use his magic around her again. Now things could really get interesting. As soon as she complied, he used the binding spell on her and watched as ropes around her wrists pulled her taut towards the top of the branches. Her toes just grazed the ground as she was pulled up. The boy was hit with a wave of such lust at the sight of her that he almost swooned, but he quickly recovered as he deliberated his next move. He couldn’t believe how much he could miss this in less than a week, and without further thought he leaned his body up against hers and rubbed up against her softness. His head rest between her breasts and he moved it side to side as he drank her in. His hands caressed her sides while his clothed crotch massaged her lower half. Harry supposed he could spend hours with her just enjoying the frottage, but for the simmering rage that butted in as a reminder.





“Turn around, Luna. And be sure to spread your legs,” he ordered breathily when he’d had enough.







He felt like a master now, teaching his wayward student, and it was time to dole out some punishment. It was as if he’d been given an elixir of life; he was renewed, reborn and so he fed off of that confidence and power as he appraised her backside. It was glorious seeing so much lily white surface at his disposal. Her arse called to him in its pristine state, literally begging him to be marked. The boy got dizzy just thinking about how he’d spanked that smooth flesh bright red before, but now he wanted to see her striped with his success, a visual proof of his control of his situation. Voldemort and Death Eaters couldn’t scare him.





He looked around the forest floor for a suitable twig. Harry saw a good sized one hanging right off the tree and went with that instead, breaking it off with a snap, but then transfiguring it to a sprightly green until it cut through the air like a bendy whip. He could see Luna visibly quiver at the sound of it and smiled wickedly. His hand reached between the globes of her bum and slid down to her soaked gash, jutting the tips of a few fingers inside.





“You’re my good girl, Luna, my very, very good girl. And you’re going to help me, right?” The blonde witch moved her legs open further and pushed against him as she tried to take his teasing fingers inside of her.





“Yes, Harry. Whatever I can do to make it better, I promise. I’ll do my best for you, Harry,” she groaned.





Harry was very pleased. Yet, he still removed his fingers and smacked at her bottom to chastise her for her greediness; he would decide when she received her pleasure. He put his wand back to his pocket as he concentrated on the birch in his other hand, stroking its full length across her arse back and forth as if it were his own cock. Then he pointed it straight, right towards the split in her bum and pushed in until he had it pressed against her hole. The girl shuddered, but waited to see what he would do.





“Luna, luv, I’m going to stretch the ropes a bit and I want you to bend over till your back lays flat and your bum is sticking out nice and pert, do you understand?”





The girl nodded with some trepidation, but moved into Harry’s requested pose as soon as he slackened the tense binding. His hand curved under her cunt to feel it throb and he held her like that as he stood to her side even as his fingers nudged her stance wider, even as he brought down the first loud thwack of the stick against her white mounds.





Luna yelped as soon as she felt the powerful sting. Harry narrowed his eyes but then decided this could not be helped and opted to use a Silencing spell on her. When he whipped her again, the woods remained unaware of her pain. His swipes were slow to resume between strikes, giving her pause while his other hand stayed glued to her core, letting a finger slide all the way in this time as he coddled her through her discomfort.





But then he felt a rush of aggression in his fever as he watched her arse bloom with crimson streaks, and soon he had to step back from her as his hits came faster and harsher, using his momentum to carry the swings back and forth in a backhand motion. He was lit up like a rocket now, and the more he watched her skin transform, saw the slashes appear red on that canvas, the more he was energized in his righteousness, her body a vehicle for his therapy. He felt like his mind was at its sharpest, he was attuned to every sound in his surroundings and the severe thwaps against her arse were like music for his ears.





Harry suddenly stopped when he noticed some of those red streaks were dribbling.





He’d cut her, he could see. She’d been hit hard enough to bleed, and he was immediately galvanized by the vision enough to throw himself to his knees and grab hold of her flanks in reverence. Harry licked against the swath and drank up the hot blood, moaning against her flesh and letting his tongue follow the heat. His eyes were shut tight and his glasses dug into his cheeks, but he didn’t really care, just attended to her wound with a mounting ecstasy as the taste filled his mouth.





Soon enough, he had followed his tongue into the swell of her crack and he plunged between those mounds to worship its inner secret, the coppery film of the blood still filling him as it mixed with the headiness of her tang. He moved further to lap at the silky wetness of her cunt, but could only endure a few moments of this as his weeping prick demanded some satisfaction.





Luna’s body was still taut in its right angle as he stood up and pressed behind her. He ripped off his shirt so he could feel his skin against hers, but only dragged his pants open enough to let his knob break free of its prison and rise up to take claim of its rightful reward. He didn’t pause even a moment as he dove into her sweet entryway, but started thrusting in rhythm as his orgasm tantalized him from a distance. He needed this, needed her, gods, she felt perfect; she WAS perfect under his hands that were still absorbing the heat of her corrupted bottom.





The rabid teen thought of defiling it further, how easy it would be to slide his prick out of one hole into another, but even the idea of that pushed him closer to the edge and he dragged Luna’s body forward until they both hit the base of the tree.





He was fucking her furiously up against the bark now, could almost imagine it scraping that tender skin of her breasts, and his moans were thunderous and deep as they fell about the girl’s back. He…was…sooo…close, he panted, and the sweat poured down his face and clotted in his hair, leaving him sticky and drenched. Then he was wrapping both sets of fingers about her throat like a collar and pulling her weight against his prick as he pummeled her, the tide sweeping over him, dousing him and then breaking on the surf, flooding his senses as he felt his prick empty into her.





He let his body fall against hers as he caught up his breathing, molding her into the scratchy bark; he quickly reminded himself of her sensitive skin. When he gingerly turned her around to face him; her features were the very model of distress. Tears rolled down her cheeks leaving streaks in the grime from her earthy pillar. Her hair was a snarled mess and her breasts did indeed bear the brunt of the tree’s rough exterior with scratches cut into and about her cleavage. It was her mouth, though, that made his heart catch in his throat. It was open wide in a scream as no sound accompanied her terror.





Harry felt the blood drain from his face; totally and savagely undone in his panic. Shit. Oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck! He did it again, for fuck sake, what the hell?!! The young man swallowed hard as he pressed his palm against her mouth to muffle what he imagined would be a very loud cry the minute he took off the Silencio. When she had her voice back, he was engulfed by the ringing of her wracked sobs but she didn’t scream. He wrapped his arms around her instantly, kissing patches of her face as his apologies rained down.





“Oh, gods, Luna! I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to hurt you that bad! I’m such a fool!”





He begged her forgiveness through his solicitous gaze. The master still had a lot to learn about controlling his own desperate desire. “I should never have lost communication with you, what the hell was I thinking?” he criticized himself harshly. Luna’s sobs had become low wails now.





“Harry, I’m sorry, but I couldn’t handle it all. You were going so fast and I cou—couldn’t catch up,” she gushed with new tears, “It was too much, I’m sorry. I’ll be better next time; pl--please don’t be angry with me.” The poor girl looked miserable as she continued to moan and hiccup in her failure.





Harry was incredulous as to how she could turn around such a fuck-up on his part to expect any rebuke. He wasn’t going to let this devolve into an apology session, however, and he took responsibility of the situation as firmly as he could, starting by untying her binds. Once she was free, she started to slither down the trunk of her post in her exhaustion, but Harry held her up and pressed her to him, holding onto her back to avoid adding any pain to her ravaged bum.





“Luna, stop, you did very well, but I should have been able to hear you when it got too much. I won’t let that happen, again, okay? We’ll make sure that you can tell me when I need to stop,” he told her earnestly, somehow understanding that he needed to set the rules in this affair.





The witch merely nodded her acceptance and then folded herself into him completely, lifting up her legs to wrap around his hips as she held tightly to his neck. Harry noticed that the light was starting to disappear as dusk settled around them and he grew worried about getting her back to her father in this state. He stroked her hair to comfort her, but then kissed her shoulder as he moved to set her back on the ground.





“I’m going to walk you home, alright? We need to get you sorted so you can look presentable again. Can’t have your dad seeing you like this, can we? Here, let’s get this dress on,” and he reached to the floor as he pulled together her garments, scooping up her smock in his other hand.





When he faced her, she appeared to have calmed down a tad and the boy was grateful that he might be able to come out of this with her respect for him intact. She still submitted to him as he pulled the fabric over her head and allowed him to dress her once again. He asked her where her shoes were and she told him that she left them at home.





“Won’t your feet get scraped up outside? That’s not too safe, Lu,” he cautioned like he was her parent.





“My toes feel good in the grass.”





The girl offered her dreamy smile at that and Harry felt encouraged that things were returning to normal. His scare had certainly cleared his head out and he felt that clarity stick with him as he prepared them for their return home. He pulled bits of bark from her hair as he tried to straighten it with his fingers.





“What were you doing out here anyway? I thought I was going to have to sneak up to your house to get your attention through the window or something,” he confessed. Luna looked at him now as if she would not have been surprised by the occurrence in the slightest.





“I was just talking to the crickets.” She brought her hand back up to his face. “Are you going to be alright after you leave me? Do you want to stay and talk for a while?”





Harry’s stomach flipped at that, but then he was feeling just fine, strong enough to deal with these matters on his own now.





“I’ll be okay, luv. But thank you. You don’t know how much I needed you last night; I was going out of my mind.” His face tinged pink a little at that. “Er, I guess you got some idea of it, though.”





He turned her to face them both forward as he started to move them in the direction towards her home.





“You can show me the way now, though, and I’ll visit you later tonight, alright? Will that be okay with you if I sneak in over to your room after everyone’s gone to bed?”





He was feeling buoyant now as he thought ahead to a midnight tryst. He still needed to take care of her, he reasoned, she deserved extra special attention to her bits after his abuse of them just now.





“Oh, how will you do that? Daddy has wards on the house so you wouldn’t be able to Apparate into my room.”





“Well, if I fly right up to your window, can you let me pass through them?” he suggested. The girl’s face brightened and she nodded. He took a patch of his shirt at the bottom and attempted to wipe her cheeks with it; there were still some streaks of dirt. Luna flushed at his closeness.





He took her hand and led them forward, allowing Luna to navigate them when necessary. The night crickets and bullfrogs started their calls as the night slowly moved in to envelop them. Harry could make out the last bit of sunlight over the horizon and then noticed an odd shaped structure in his view. It really did look like the rook off a chessboard, he marveled. When he got close enough to the edge of the woods to see the path down to the back garden he turned and regarded her in the shadows. Yes, he was really going to have to make things up to her later on.





The contented raven-haired Chosen One bent his head down to sweep his lips across hers one more time before they departed each other. He deepened their kiss as Luna’s hands fluttered around him not knowing where to land, and leaned her backwards in his embrace as his body sparked to take her again. It was like a bottomless well of desire for her, a hunger never sated completely. He took control of his libido this time, however, and broke them apart, running his hand along the slope of her neck.





After watching her descend the trail out of the woods leading to her property, looking back over her shoulder at him once before heading to the garden, Harry folded the cloak over him and pulled out his wand to Apparate. Screw the license; he knew what he was doing, he justified.







~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~







A mere half hour later, he and Ginny were setting the table for dinner as his thoughts meandered over how he might achieve multiple orgasms for Luna once he got to her bed. His hair was still wet after jumping in the shower for a few minutes to rinse away her smell and his sweat but now he was so lost in his thoughts he barely noticed how closely Ginny brushed across him to set the plates or heard her speak to him as she asked about his whereabouts. When she prompted him again, Harry finally turned to face her full on and focus on her words. She looked at him curiously but he wasn’t able to define her mood exactly.





He shrugged. “I just went for a run. You know, work off some aggression,” he stated simply.





Ginny wrinkled her nose and wondered how he’d been able to escape her mother. Harry didn’t offer an explanation this time, but blithely switched the subject to Molly’s plan of divide and conquer. Ginny agreed that she was most definitely keeping the trio from talking.





“What does she think will happen,” Harry muttered, "Someone else might kill off Voldemort while she\'s holding us here making vol-au-vents?.”*





Ginny’s eyes widened in a vague solemn surprise, as if it had finally dawned on her that Harry was really leaving with the intent to finish off a crazy murderer and he was taking her brother and friend with him. Harry could feel a slight aggravation creep in at her epiphany coming a little too late in the game. What had she thought he was going to do after breaking up with her? Did she really not expect this would come to pass sooner or later? He didn’t have time for naysayers and people who didn’t believe in him. He had too much on his plate as it was without needing to appease their narrow-minded sensibilities. Surely, after her brothers’ brush with mortality last night, she would have cottoned onto the deadly reality they all faced with the Boy-Who-Lived at the very center.





Later on during dinner, Harry felt a buzz through his frame as he surveyed everyone at the table. It had grown to quite a large group with the ever rotating cast of visitors. He was squeezed in tight between Ginny and Bill, but felt every much a part of the adults’ conversation as they discussed goings on at the Ministry.





Ron tried to glean some kind of relevant information from him with wide stares and head nods, suggesting that they would get to their own discourse after the meal, but Harry merely shrugged one shoulder noncommittally before asking Arthur to pass the peas. Arthur took a beat to acknowledge the intimate referral before smiling to Harry and handing the bowl over.





When the young man let his eyes sweep over the occupants one by one, he couldn’t help notice Remus’ very intense scrutiny. The man stared at him as if he were trying to discern just who this boy was before him, and Harry felt hackles raise on the back of his neck as he made a point to stare right back at him with a challenging confidence. After a few seconds, Remus cast his gaze downwards to his food and didn’t look back up. That’s right, bitch, mumbled Harry’s inner monologue, eat your meat.





Wow, he marveled, this alpha-male shit really does stoke up your testosterone. He felt like shots of it were sparking off his skin and floating down on the family around him, infecting them with his virility. He sized up each member for a moment as if they might pose a threat, but then settled into his comfort zone when he felt more than their match. He reminded himself he was amongst friends as he eased back into his skin.





Mrs. Weasley had plenty more assignments for the clan after dishes had been cleared, and it wasn’t until very late that Ron and Harry were slipping into their beds. Ron tried to engage him in some whispers about the Horcruxes, but fell asleep with a loud snore in the middle of a sentence. Harry just laid there thinking for a long time waiting for the night to usher in its soporific effects on the denizens of the house. When it had been a hefty chunk of minutes ticking by after the last footfall across the hallway disappeared behind a closed door, Harry sat up and took in his roommate. Ron was out stone cold, he determined, and he’d been his dormmate long enough to know which sleep stage he was in. It would take a booming Reducto to wake him up right now.





He glanced over to the corner of Ron’s room where the boy kept his treasured Cleansweep 11. While Harry didn’t much like the notion of borrowing his friend’s things without asking, his Firebolt was nothing but twigs now sitting on the roof of someone’s house and this was a tricky situation he was about to undertake. He tried to convince himself that Ron wouldn’t mind too much if he knew his mate’s purpose for it; not that he was ever planning on telling him, but as a fellow bloke there was certainly a tacit understanding that one did what one could to help a mate get a leg over when it came to birds.





The bespectacled wizard crept out of his bed and tiptoed over to the broom. He didn’t even bother to change, as he was only in a pair of cotton pajamas, but threw on a jacket to brave the cool night breeze, topping it off with his cloak while he shimmied up to the window and quietly raised the pane. As he maneuvered his body onto the window sill, he propped the broom in front of him and hopped on in one smooth motion as he swerved it out into the yard. Then he was on his way to her, and he felt that thrumming in his center course out through his limbs. He kept the broom low to let the treetops provide cover and this slowed him down a bit, but before long, he could see the black cylinder poke up behind the hillside as he cruised over field.





As he circled the house, he scanned the window of the strange structure, looking for a clue to Luna’s room. He saw a faint light like a beacon from the very top square and coasted over to it carefully as he tried to monitor the activity inside from his perch. The glow was set around a dark covered bed and he was sure he could make out long blonde highlights glinting from the sleeper’s form.





He got up close enough to toss a pebble inside the open window and watched hesitantly as the figure in the bed moved to face in his direction. Those glistening huge eyes peered at him and blinked. Harry remembered he was under the cloak and pulled his head free, calling her over in a whisper.





The girl got out of bed, but Harry could barely make out her shape as she wove around the furniture in her room. As she got closer to the window, he felt a spike in his groin and the need to purr as he watched her pad towards him in nothing but a pair of chartreuse knickers, her platinum hair falling over her shoulders and trailing down her breasts like a cover. He gripped the broom handle in front of him like it was his very own pecker and unconsciously stroked the wood as he waited for her to let him in.





Luna’s wand drew some sparks as she waved it over the opening, but then she was pulling the window panes all the way inside to give him the maximum amount of space to make his way in. Harry quickly entered and dropped to the floor soundlessly as he watched her back up. The impassioned boy held a finger to his lips and then looked around for a door. Luna nodded before moving to close her windows all the way shut.





She walked over to…well, it couldn’t really be a corner of the room because the space they were in appeared to be spherical with no edges in sight. But there upon the floor next to a wall was what looked like a hatch. The young witch cast a series of spells against it while murmuring to herself and then shuffled back to Harry on the cobalt blue carpet.





He had propped his broom underneath the window and now moved to take her in his arms. Her skin was warm and he rubbed his hands up and down her back.





“Hello, Gorgeous,” went his greeting. Luna’s nose crinkled in the most delightful way as she looked away; appearing embarrassed by the compliment.





“Harry, don’t be silly,” was all she could mutter into his sleeve.





“What, you don’t believe me? Perhaps you really are loony if you don’t realize what a beauty you are,” he teased. He felt like showering her with compliments in that moment.





Her face blushed hot, but she kept her head down as her grin perked up on one side. She slowly gazed up at him under her lashes and Harry was burning to taste her. He moved his arm under her knees and then swoop up to cradle her as he walked over to the bed. She tried to reign in her squeal, but even a partial version of it was enough to get his hard-on going. He ceremoniously plopped her on the bed, but she winced in pain when she landed and quickly adjusted herself to her side. Harry froze as his knee hit the duvet.





“Are you alright?” he asked hesitantly, a sneaking suspicion looming to the forefront of his brain.





She had that perennial frightened doe in the headlights look, but this time he was a little more concerned with the reason for it.





“Oh, it’s nothing, Harry. I’m just a little bit sore,” she attempted to murmur off-handedly. Harry settled onto her brightly colored bed and folded his legs across each other.





“Let me look at it, Lu. I want to make sure your skin is doing better.”





She seemed reluctant, but then his expectant look intensified and he tilted his head slightly. The girl returned his stare for another moment before haltingly turning on her stomach and laying flat. Harry ran his hand up and down her back again a few times to soothe her before finally settling above the waistband of her panties. He could see the dark red lines stretching out from under the material on either side as he slowly pulled them downwards. His breath caught.





Shite. Oh, man. This…this was…not good, his mind stressed as he sat there staring while his fingers started to waver in their grip. What the fuck had he done. Harry felt a little sick as he surveyed her scarred flesh. The marks were still bruised scarlet and one of her cuts appeared to have opened again as he noticed the dried blood which had crusted over. And he had been so full of himself earlier, thinking he was some cock of the walk, while here Luna tried to sit in her pain.





“I tried to do some healing charms, but it’s a little hard for me to reach there. I don’t think I could have explained it to Daddy very well, to be honest. I tried to put an unguent on it, but I don’t know how well I did, really,” the girl tried to excuse.





Her tinkly voice was low, but obviously trying to make light of her wounds.





Harry swallowed thickly again and looked stolidly into her face as she peered over her shoulder at him. His breath exhaled in an almost whistle before he spoke.





“You should be really furious with me.” Luna looked at him in confusion then balked at the thought. She shook her head vehemently, but Harry reached to hold her head in place.





“I got out of control again. This is unacceptable, Luna. I really hurt you, and I promised you that I wouldn’t. I really don’t deserve your trust. If you were to think I was a total prick after a stunt like this, I would completely agree with you,” and he threw his hands up in his prostration.





“You were very upset, Harry. I could completely understand….,” but the shamed boy cut her off, his self-disgust complete.





“That’s not an excuse. I don’t have the right to pour my pain into you. That’s not fair; you’re not my dustbin. I don’t know, Lu, maybe it would be better if you just stayed the fuck away from me.”





Luna grew panicked at the suggestion and she gripped his wrist tightly. “No, Harry! Please. I want to help you, I’ll do better.”





Harry paled at her refusal to see him as the arsehole in this. He sighed again and rolled back his head in frustration as his eyes floated to the ceiling.





That’s when he saw it. He saw his face looking back down at him. The boy’s mouth fell open as he sat there stunned into silence. She had painted the rest of them, too. Ginny, Neville, Hermione, and Ron, all looped together with a winding gold thread. He peered closer and saw the inscription written lovingly around their portraits.





friends…friends…friends, it scrolled. Harry thought his heart might explode.





He put his hands up to cover his own solid face and felt the tears fill the bottom lids, but then he wiped his palms back over them as he sniffled. Harry was moved, ashamed, amazed, and overwhelmed all at once. When he looked back at her, she lay resting on her arms waiting for his decision calmly, resigned to her fate even as a struggling desperation hovered in those protuberant silver orbs.





He tried to insist to himself that maybe he should run away; she needed protecting from him more than from Voldemort and his minions, but he couldn’t do it to her, couldn’t leave. He owed her, for one. Harry wanted to take care of the fair, special girl. He had never met anyone like her.





“When did you paint that,” he croaked out. Luna didn’t even look up at her work, but stared straight at him as she answered in that matter-of-fact way of hers.





“I started when I got home from school. I just finished it the other day, actually.”





“It’s really incredible,” he stated rather flatly, but he really meant it. It just hurt to speak right now.





“It felt good to do it. Ron took me a long time with all of those freckles. But I had to work at yours the most. I wanted it to be as perfect as you.”





Harry cringed inside. “I’m nowhere near perfect, Luna. I’m as far from perfect as you can get. Don’t ever lose sight of that.”





“I think there’s a definite perfection about you. Sometimes it’s breathtaking to watch you move through the halls at school or in action with defensive spells or on the Quidditch pitch. There’s something very pure in you,” she concluded with a small smile. Harry didn’t want to get upset so he tried to change the topic.





“What did you do with your cream? I’m going to finish putting it on,” he explained to her.





Luna went to reach for a tube just off her nightstand under a lamp, but Harry saw it and grabbed it first. It sat next to a photograph of a younger Luna with a woman who looked just like her. The smaller blonde looked fresh-faced and cared for. And happy.





“This is your mother?” he asked his companion as he pulled the tube’s top off and prepared to spread the contents over her cuts. She gave him a soft yes as she lay back down on her chest.





“She’s very beautiful. Like mother, like daughter, I suppose.” He added his own hint of a smile this time.





He carefully applied the salve to her battered rump as he talked about nothing in particular. She asked him how the wedding plans were going and he filled her in on his enlightened chat with Mrs. Weasley. Luna told him about her father’s big piece on the Loch Ness monster for the next issue, how he’d gotten a great interview with a Scottish captain who apparently had carried on a long-term friendship with the beast. Harry told her the best way to make a bearnaise sauce.





When he’d coated her marred flesh with as much of the unguent as he could, he told her to hold still while he performed the most suitable healing charms he could muster with his limited training. He attempted to diminish the angry welts by dragging his wand across the raised flesh gently. The redness looked slightly muted when he was done, but he wondered if he was simply kidding himself to feel better and it was just a matter of the lighting. Luna told him sweetly that the stinging and burning had subsided.





The teen looked around for something to wipe his hands on and Luna handed him an old shirt. As she continued to lay still with her hands under her head, Harry decided to move his hands up to her back again and started massaging it. He let his hands roll over her shoulders and press tight, easing his fingers into her ropes of muscles as he followed them to her neck.





He stretched her arms out and rubbed them all the way up. When he made his way down to her waist and pressed his thumbs along the small of her back to drag them upwards, the girl moaned in that breathy way of hers. Harry leaned across her back to speak low in her ear.





“Luna, will you let me pleasure you?” he asked fervidly, yet wary of her reaction.





She turned her head to him and blinked in a slow understanding. Harry tried to convey his sincerest wish to only make her body feel good and not take her senses over again as he bulldozed her into surrender. Once she had given him her baby-voiced approval, he had a moment where he’d had to reign in that surge of voraciousness. This was only about her, his inner self chided.





He warned her that he was moving her body beforehand, but then shifted her to the side of the bed so that she was centered in the width instead of its length, yet he still kept her on her stomach. He appealed to her to get comfortable again while he positioned her legs down at his end. He laid them along the bed’s edge so that her toes pointed to each end and she was spread in a flat split before him. The athletic boy admired her lissome form; the girl was supple in her movements and managed to accommodate every pose he bent her in.





“I’m really lucky you’re so limber, Luna,” he admitted. “I don’t realize how much strain I put on your legs, sometimes.”





“I’ve always been this way, I\'m very stretchy, but this is kind of hard to keep them like this, Harry. Did you want to restrain my ankles to keep them straight?” she asked innocently.





Harry gulped at the suggestion. “Um, I don’t—well, we don’t have to do that for me, Luna. I want you to feel relaxed, so if you don’t want your ankles tied up, I can move you some other way.”





“No, it’s okay,” she spoke liltingly, “This feels interesting. I just need some help, is all.”





He watched her indulgently for a few minutes before leaning over to tap his wand to each foot and see the ropes coil their way around her ankles. He made sure they didn’t pull her too tight. He was kneeling on her floor now, and he scooted to the middle as he aligned himself with her cunt. When he went to put his hand on her bottom, she flinched with a whimper.





“Does this position hurt, Lu? I promise I don’t mind moving you if it’s not working,” he contended.





“Oh, it’s just some of the scratches are a bit tight, Harry, with my skin stretched like this. I’ll get used to it, I’m sure.”





Harry attempted a numbing spell on her behind to see if that would ease some of her discomfort. She moaned her content.





The boy then threw himself into keeping his promise to saturate her in pleasure. He affixed his mouth to her flower and stayed there for a long time. When she would cum across his pouting lips, he would smooth his hands down her back for a short bit to calm her, but then put his head back down to her pulsing center to begin again. At one point, he started to use his hands to build the sensations, varying the pumping motions in her twat as he sucked on her, rubbing her pink nub as his tongue fucked her, while his fingers moved in and out of her posterior channel.





After she had climaxed a fourth time, he stroked up and down her legs for several minutes, but then using both sets of fingers to explore her, and letting the squishing sounds delight him as he watched her swollen cunt bubble in the intense penetration of having several digits moving fiercely inside both her arse and core.





Listening to her vast collection of sexy sighs, moans, whines, and grunts was sending Harry into his own realm of delectation. There really was nothing else like her, his mind acknowledged. He ignored his prick completely as he simply followed her bliss. Watching and tasting her cum over and over again was as rejuvenating as all the other tricks he had employed to dominate the girl’s body and mind. He wondered again at his hunger for it; why he had that sense of calmness after controlling her so completely.





When Harry felt those sex muscles flutter and grip his tongue for a sixth time, and then seconds later feel it again, Luna protested loudly that she could not do another one, she was spent and incoherent. He undid the ties on her legs and then ever so gently pulled them back to her body straight like closing a pair of scissors.





He curled his body around hers and nibbled at the nape of her neck. It was a spot of sheer heaven for him. She smelled so incredible under here, normally buried away by her mane. He felt he was going to have to address his fascination with her neck very soon before it got him in to trouble, too.





Later, as the teens slipped in and out of sleep, Luna crawled on top of his body as he lay flat and rubbed her sex against his prick until it filled with desire for her. Harry lay under the girl and let her use his body for her satiation. He could see his face beam down at him over Luna’s shoulder while she fucked him, the moon spotlighting the mural through her window, and he felt his duality acutely; not so much of good and bad, but of an internal struggle to beat back his darkness.





The boy tried not to glance too often at the representations of Ginny and Ron, not wanting to think about either of their thoughts if they had any idea what he was doing right now. Even Hermione would undoubtedly give him grief, he imagined.





After the two of them had peaked together amidst frantic limbs and heavy breathing, Luna had fixed her body to his side and buried her face in his neck. The Boy-Who-Lived had never felt so peaceful in his life. Then Luna’s gaze had turned to the beams of white across the faces on the ceiling to contemplate it as if for the first time.





“I’m thinking of adding Hedwig, Harry. Would that be okay if I put him near you as if he were perched on your shoulder?” she whispered in his ear.





Harry bolted upright in bed and trembled as he tried to grab at his clothes and flee, but Luna put her arms around him and murmured to him sweet words of comfort until Harry folded back into her. She pulled him back down the bed and held him tight while he let the tears flow forth. There was no help for it, Harry decided in his sadness.





He missed her so much already; that majestic white plumage that the bird had preened so proudly for him, her eyes so sharp and attentive, sometimes his only consolation in the middle of a fitful night. They took her from him, too, just like everybody else who meant something in his life. The thought made him grip the girl in his arms tighter while his shoulders shook.







When Harry’s eyes opened again, he could see the first sign of dawn off on the horizon ready to flood the land. The reality of where he was currently sleeping slammed into him fully and within seconds he was leaping from the bed and pulling his stuff together. Luna stirred beside him, but then simply watched as he made his kinetic dash around her room to gather his things. With a last passionate kiss goodbye, Harry was at her window and jumping to Ron’s broom, speeding low to the ground before Apparating in mid-leap to the receiving point outside of the Burrow. Flying back up to Ron’s window, he heard the cock crow.















* quote from Deathly Hallows. Is it just me, or did everyone else notice that Harry never got his Apparition license through all of DH? Because it only just occurred to me the other day. I\'ve looked and looked, but there is no indication of it, so the whole argument about tracking Apparition really does fall to the analogy of driving a car without a permit in the eyes of the law.