Mad Snorkacks and Englishmen

A/N: The stanza Luna quotes in the first chapter is from the "Homeric Hymn 32 to Selene" (trans. Evelyn-White). In this chapter, when Harry uses the term "fanny", he\'s using the British vernacular and not American slang, which means he\'s referring to va-jay-jay. I intend for this story to be quite long and heavily involved in BDSM themes, but as the characters of Harry and Luna are both still fairly young and exploring their sexuality in the context of their experiences, it will be sort of slow moving towards the big heavy duty sex. I\'m attempting to establish a certain psychology early on that would enable them to enter that kind of relationship, but it is all borne out of their canon traits. I see both Harry and Luna as damaged, so it spoke to a certain dark romanticism in me to want to see them together. If you\'ve ever seen the film, SECRETARY and loved it, then this is the story for you.







Chapter 2: The Girl From The North Country





Luna didn’t attempt to extricate herself from Harry’s iron-clad clinch, merely gawped at his heated demand with her saucer-like eyes. She felt no compunction to lie to Harry; on the contrary, she had every intention to give him his answer, but the words couldn’t seem to connect to her voice. She was starting to get a little bit nervous now that she was up close and personal with the Chosen One’s notorious temper. Their posturing was near enough for the frightened witch to feel his racing heartbeat thudding into her chest like hooves. It was the wrap of his arms around hers secured tightly to her back and the hardness pressed into the apex of her thighs that caught Luna’s senses, however, and she let her mind linger over the pulsing between her legs again at the thought of him pinning her to the floor.





“It started with a few Ravenclaw boys, if you must know. Marcus Belby and a couple of his friends caught me coming back late to the common room after curfew one night. I had been out to the lake to leave some treats for the Giant Squid. We’d had treacle tart that night and it’s one of his favorites. He was very happy I visited.” Luna’s attention wavered as she rambled and her gaze shifted to Harry’s neck. The bulging cord coursing down his throat throbbed as the vein stood out in a purplish bas relief. “The boys didn’t seem to care about that, though. They told me I would have to pay them a favor if I didn’t want to get reported. And so I did. They were quite particular, you know, but acted pleased afterwards, so I expect they…um...they enjoyed it.” Luna faltered for a moment as Harry’s hot breath lapped over her. He was almost panting now and it sounded like he might be grinding his teeth, but his dark, emerald gaze never left hers.





“They left me alone after that, but I guess Marcus must have said something to a few Slytherin students,” she grimaced at Harry’s imperceptible squeeze on her wrists. “Their group cornered me near the entrance to the Forbidden Forest not soon after. There were more boys this time. It was mostly,” she paused again, preparing herself for what was sure to be an explosive reaction, “well, it was Draco Malfoy and his lot, I’m afraid.”





Harry didn’t disappoint. “WHAT?!” he blasted into the night. His wild eyes flashed an emerald fire before shutting tight. “That fucking, low-life, piece of… SHIT.”

His teeth gnashed viciously and he let go of Luna suddenly as he raised himself to his feet. She fell back against the stone while Harry began pacing, his fingers flexing in and out as he tried to control his need to strangle someone. That someone being a white-haired ferret fuck who was destined for a world of hurt when Harry finally caught up to him, he thought darkly.





Harry ceased his steps and turned towards the dirty blonde. She lay crouched where he’d dropped her. His mind couldn’t seem to process what he was hearing and some part of him shook its shoulders in denial. “You sucked Malfoy’s prick?” his hardened voice inquired tonelessly, needing her confirmation before he could manage to wrap his mind around the news. He wished that she’d never divulged her secrets to him now; he could do without these revelations. The Boy-Who-Lived had had his fill for the night, and this girl was dragging him deeper into the abyss. At her timid nod, another wretched thought occurred to him.





“So, he raped you, Luna?”





The silvery orbs in her eye sockets did that Luna thing again, catching the light of the moon like a shard of glass in the sun. He was briefly reminded of the shining spheres along the shelves of the Hall of Prophecies. This time she shook her head side to side in the negative and Harry let loose a breath of relief he hadn’t realized he was holding.





“None of them had sex with me ever, Harry. He never…did that to me.” The implication that whatever had taken place had happened more than once was not lost on the boy.





“What do you think ‘performing oral sex’ is, Luna? It’s still sex. And Malfoy and his goons forced themselves on you, right? Just because the wanker didn’t shove his filthy knob inside your fanny doesn’t make it any less of a rape.” Harry rubbed at his face as he tried to reason with her.





He justified his coarse language in the hopes of rattling her composure. The young hero wanted to see her fuming about this, not passive and accepting of their heinous deeds. Although he found the subject matter uncomfortable and distasteful, Harry felt a certain responsibility to light a fire under the girl. He could bear the rage for the both of them, he expected, and as he seized onto this new disturbing bit of crisis, images of dead, watery faces and moaning, begging Headmasters were pushed to the recesses of his consciousness. Here was a cause that he could manipulate to his sense of justice. The sniveling, pasty, reluctant assassin that Harry had felt sorry for in a moment of compassion was once again revealed as the hateful, vindictive bully he knew and despised. Harry mentally thanked Luna for restoring some semblance of rightness to his situation. Malfoy was a thug who deserved no pity whatsoever, it mattered little that he cared for his family.





“I know what rape is, Harry, and I understand the concept of sex, thank you,” the witch explained in a remarkably bitter retort for her. “But while it was an unfortunate encounter, I was at least somewhat in charge of the proceedings. Mum would always say that you can’t hold back the river, but you can swim with the current. They may have been rather unpleasant in their demands and perhaps, it’s true, that I didn’t have much choice about the whole arrangement, but I’m the one who gave them their pleasure. They saw that. They knew who I was. Draco was pretty angry with me and my part in getting his father put away, but by the last visit he’d taken to using my surname like it was a badge of honor. He didn’t make fun of me so much anymore.”

She shook her head mournfully at Harry’s baleful glare. “All of them are just scared little boys trying to live up to their fathers’ legacies,” she imparted wisely.





“I see, so I suppose that makes it alright, then? Did you even try to fight them?”





His curiosity waged battle with the sheer gall rising up in him with her words. He conjured forth moving pictures in his head of Luna on her knees bowing over Crabbe or Goyle (they seemed a safer choice than the ferret) while her pink tongue swirled around their cocks as her eyes darted like Cornish pixies in that dizzy gaze she held so often. Harry’s own hardened prick made its presence known as it throbbed in anticipation of her answer.





Instead of getting angry, Luna gaped at him as if he was quite daft. It was such an unusual look for her that for a moment the messy-haired boy thought he might laugh at the sight. He stifled it with a strangled cough, however, as he watched the skin on her tits glow under starlight.





“They may be sad little boys, but it doesn’t mean they’re not bigger and stronger than me, Harry. They have fists and they’re cruel and the five of them had their wands out and directed towards me. I mean, their actual wands, ready for hexing.” Now it was the ethereal girl’s turn to narrow her eyes at him in disdain. “What would you have done, o’ savior?”





Harry couldn’t understand why her biting sarcasm was getting him hotter. The girl had subverted his idea of her and flipped it several times on its head. This quirky, dejected little wisp of a thing who allowed her roommates to steal her belongings with nothing more than a sigh of resignation was somehow leading a double life as the Blowjob Queen of Hogwarts and he’d had no clue. He really needed to stop being so self-involved and start paying more attention to his friends.





Harry ignored her snarky question and turned away from her as he scanned the skies again. He could detect a faint bit of light looming on the horizon and he idled over the lateness of the hour. When he gazed back at her again, there was a quiet strength in his pose that declared his resolve in this matter. He regarded her very carefully, his hopeful plans for the remainder of this twisted night propelling him into action before the dawn could greet them.





“Are you a virgin, Luna?”





He was surprised by his forwardness, yet it persisted. Luna bent her head and cast her eyes downward demurely, but shook her head again silently. Harry noted with something akin to tenderness that there was pain in this admission, the girl’s slumped form broadcasting her shame. If his heart hadn’t already taken a beating tonight, Harry might have been able to muster some more pity for his friend, but in all the tumultuous emotions he was feeling for her right now, pity had taken a backseat to desire.





“Are you still cold?” he asked suddenly. He really didn’t want to hear the grisly details of her first time. The change in subject was noted by Luna with a raised eyebrow as she searched his expression.





Harry glanced around his feet to locate the discarded cloak and as he grabbed it where it lay he kneeled to the floor and flapped the magical material across the stones. He urged Luna to shift her rear-end onto the fabric and they both briefly marveled at the effect it created over the solid rock. It was like peering into nothingness, a flat shapeless void. As she tentatively rolled on top of the make-shift blanket, Harry cast a warming charm across its surface. “Thank you, Harry,” she smiled up at him. “I like your Hallow.”





“My what?” he wrinkled his nose in bemusement. “Nothing,” she sighed. Her nightgown had by this time slipped down far enough to settle around her waist, leaving her topless in the crisp twilight air. He scooted over to her feet and laid his sweaty hands on top of them, rubbing back and forth to bring her some heat. The teen’s eyes caught sight of pink flesh under her skirt and the tight ache in his jeans renewed with vigor. Did the Ravenclaw not believe in underwear, he wondered in amazement?





“I want you to lie back, so you can get warm all over,” he directed patiently.





She immediately followed his command without question and for an instant Harry felt that ache move up to his heart. He still wanted her, wanted to fall into her sadness and weave in his own despair. The two of them had to be the most messed up people in the entire school; the bloody planet, even, he figured. Ginny popped into his mind’s eye for a split second, but he quickly dispatched her face from his thoughts. It wouldn’t do to worry about her now. The youngest Weasley had his heart, but she would never understand the comfort that he craved. He couldn’t even understand it himself. Her happy face and happy kisses and gusty challenges were like something out of a dream to Harry. He had been kidding himself to think he could belong in her world.





“Can I lie down with you, Luna?” he made a point to ask her.



His voice remained quiet and steady as he spoke. The girl merely lifted up her hand in an invitation. With a sure grip, Harry grasped the hem of his shirt and tugged upwards, pulling it over his head and glasses deftly with one hand. He tossed it to the side as he clasped her wrist and let her pull him to the ground. The boy oomphed into the iridescent cloak and a tiny cascade of giggles erupted beside him. He bore a lopsided grin as the young wizard raised himself on one arm and contemplated the figure lying next to him further. She really did glow, he mused.





Harry watched her face as his hand reached out to stroke the soft milky skin of her belly once more. This time when he bent down for a kiss, he made sure to move slowly and leisurely. His lips closed over hers in a wet, plush spill of tongue. He licked the corners of her mouth and across her teeth, he sucked on her bottom lip and tugged, he plunged into that sweet opening to let his pink probe sweep every inch inside. She tasted of pudding, he decided; butterscotch or pecan, he couldn’t quite tell.





Luna simply let him plunder her mouth in a yielding gracefulness that spurred on his ratcheting eagerness. His touch continued to appraise her flesh as he sought out her body’s secrets. Luna was ticklish near her armpits and along her collarbone, he determined, but she moaned into his mouth when his hands crept around her throat. Subconsciously, the implication seemed to do a number on his ever suffering hard-on, and he wondered if any more blood could possibly pump to the region without causing him brain damage. His fingers spread open wide as he brushed them lightly across the tops of both breasts, her nipples now hardened peaks that were driving him spare. Unbidden, he bit down on her lower lip again as he pinched one of those rosy points between his thumb and index finger experimentally, but almost exploded a second later when Luna arched up her back towards him in a deep groan. They were both practically shaking now. Harry tentatively resumed his exploration of her body, but this time when he placed his palm on her stomach he deliberately pointed downwards, and as his fingers wound their way down her pelvis like a snake in search of prey, he sucked in a gasp.





The smell of her...well, her cunt wafted over him like a summer afternoon by the lake, the salty breeze ruffling his hair and trundling up his nostrils. He thought of freshly baked bread served outside at the Burrow and ripe, bursting fruit full of sweetness and tang. He felt his whole body reach towards her core as his hand slipped under her lacy gown and dipped into salvation.





When the tips of his fingers curved over her pubic bone, the terrain became slick and more varied. Her flat belly’s smooth glide in the descent now gave way to fleshy folds and ridges with a light tickle of fuzz. It was…wet, she was very wet, was his first impression. For a scary second, Harry had thought it might be blood or urine, and his cheeks burned hot when he realized just what substance he was soaking in. The wide-eyed boy let his hand circle that forbidden flower a few times while his breath abated in awe. The bit of hair that he’d detected seemed to be exclusive to a small patch above that bony jut. He could feel thick, padded flesh run parallel on either side of her drenched center, but as his fingers moved to explore, the sleek skin parted and he gained entry in the throbbing gash. Luna moaned and writhed underneath him and Harry thought he might faint from want. Those two middle digits had plunged into her heat before he could even understand what was happening, and as it dawned on him that he was inside Luna, he mentally cheered himself on.





Feeling the velvety grip of silky muscle was a fascinating revelation for the rookie wizard. He pushed in and out a few times lightly to elicit a response, and the squelching sound of fluid accompanied the panting girl’s cries. He removed his sticky fingers and brought them under his nose inhaling deeply, the powerful scent providing another kick to his groin. Without a moment’s hesitation, he slipped them in his mouth and sucked. The tangy bite on his tongue was more than he could have imagined and he gave his ardent approval with a grunt. Oh, Merlin, he had to get out of these jeans before his weeping, petrified cock broke in half.





“Luna, I’ve really got to strip, okay?” He had his hand on his buckle before she could offer a reply. The belt was already free and his top button undone when he heard her rejoinder. He gripped the corners of his jeans and pants together and pushed down in one fell swoop, tripping backwards in his haste to slip off his trainers. The night breeze swirling around his erection cooled the burning, tender skin and he slowly exhaled in the relief. He lost any shyness he thought he might possess in his nudity and turned back to the witch with a wild fervor. He needed to feel more of her. “Let’s get this gown off of you,” he said as he swiftly reached for the lace. Luna was already lifting her hips while her feet planted firmly on stone and the two teens quickly removed the final impediment to their lustful demands.





“Harry,” the girl called to him again as he straightened up from the floor on bended knees, “Harry, look at me.” He paused with his hands preparing to spread her legs open and stared down in askance at his friend. She rolled up and curled her right hand around his bicep, the left moving to caress his cheek. Those big, glittering eyes pierced deep into his with a beseeching mixture of need and melancholy and something inexplicably haunted that brought home the horrors of that evening. The boy felt his morbid reality brush up against his back again, returning that flinty edge to his nerves. “You will be careful, please?”





Her voice rose up slightly on the ‘please’ and its plaintive sound struck an alarm deep inside the boy. Yet, he nodded with an assuring smile before something clicked in his overcharged brain and he suddenly blushed with understanding. In a halting stretch, the aching teen reached for his dungarees to fish out his wand from the back pocket. He furiously tried to recall the prophylactic charm that the twins had teasingly taught him using a green banana last summer at the Burrow. He chastised himself now for not taking better notes because he’d been too embarrassed at the time. “Um, you might have to show me the hand movement again, Luna, I haven’t really used this in practice,” he confessed.





Luna’s baffled expression suggested they weren’t talking about the same thing. Harry tried to clarify. “The, uh, Prophylaxis, I’ve only seen it done once before.” He knew it worked much like the Bubble-Headed Charm, encasing the caster’s ‘designated area’ in some type of protective coating, but Fred and George had insisted you couldn’t feel it at all, unless done with some augmented versions which served to heighten the pleasure involved. He was thankful that he’d had the two of them acting as surrogate older brothers, so at least he wasn’t completely clueless. His roommates knew squat in the realm of practical sexual data, he’d gleaned from their late night chats. Seamus was all talk, and lewdly so at that, whereas Dean still seemed to rely on the Muggle world for relevance. He wasn’t even going to bother wondering what Neville could possibly offer on the subject, and Ron…well, let’s just say the two friends avoided any talk revolving around how ‘bits’ actually worked. Harry couldn’t quite ascertain the nature of the discomfort in that area. They talked shite about everything else.





“You don’t have to worry about that.” Harry’s eyebrows flew high to his forehead. “Really?” he intoned.





Luna shook her head while her skin flushed pink. “I won’t be having any children anytime soon.” There was bitterness in her words that suggested the young wizard leave the matter alone. “And I’m free of any contagions that could harm you. The potions see to that. I’m assuming you haven’t been with anyone else sexually, then?”





The casual inquiry chafed at Harry’s ego and he felt a sliver of annoyance return. “Right, whatever. Go on then.” Not bothering to confirm Luna’s query, he drifted his focus back to her legs, bent in half like gates barring a glorious garden. Clutching her ankles, he pulled open those gates with a brusque jerk to either side of him. As he peered down, Harry employed his personal inner choir of angels to sing once he beheld the sight between her thighs.





The visual was almost as empowering as the tactile sensation. The golden down of her mons looked trimmed and tidy, he noticed, nothing at all like the mass of wiry black curls surrounding Harry’s heavy package. The pink folds now glistening under the moon’s beam were full with the promise of heady fragrance and pleasure untold. “I thought girls were supposed to have more hair,” he muttered curiously before inwardly cringing at how ridiculously young the remark made him sound. He had come face-to-face with monsters and crazy men, for fuck’s sake, he didn’t need Luna thinking he was a complete tosser. But Luna took it all in stride.





“One can never be too careful with Nargles, Harry,” she cautioned. “It’s imperative one remove all temptation to possible infestation.” Harry grew suddenly worried what she would think of his own unkempt bush. Then the beginning of a smirk pulled up one side of his mouth as his palms pushed her thighs further apart, ready to detail his own inspection. He dropped his face close to her core as he bent low from his waist, shifting his knees and elbows into a more comfortable position. Meanwhile, the swollen head of his cock tapped the cold stone and he leapt back from the touch.





“Uh, how about we spread this out some more,” and he pulled Luna up on her bum while he cast an Engorgio on his cloak. The material grew double in size and Harry was able to redirect their bodies in a diagonal line inside the square, his head between her legs and above her twat, while still giving him some protected space below her arse with which to lie on his stomach. “This is much better.” He felt satisfied that he was calling the shots again.





The two students both lay propped on their elbows, she on her back and he pushed up from his waist, regarding each other over Luna’s midsection. The-Boy-Who-Lived-For-This fixated on her cunt once more, deciding that the matter of taste had not been investigated fully and warranted further research. His hand palmed her pubis again and he stroked it lightly like he was petting a small kitten, delighting in the way Luna mewled at his touch while her juices slicked his fingers again. “Has anyone ever gone down on you before?” he asked nonchalantly while inside his body thrummed in expectation.





A girlish giggle caused him to look up, and he was surprised to see her grow bashful as she gazed coyly down at her breasts, her long lashes fluttering like a butterfly basking in the sun. She shook her head shyly as she murmured her answer. “No, Harry, that has never happened to me.”





He smiled devilishly. GOOD.





“No one has ever been interested before now.”





Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously and frowned. Well, he didn’t really want to hear that, but highly doubted it was true, at any rate. Ugh. That just made him think of Malfoy, which made him think of Dumbledore, which made him think of a bunch of shit he wanted banished from his mind. It’s a good thing he had a sopping wet snatch right in front of his face to distract him then, wasn’t it? Harry decided. Yet, even as he attempted to close off that cacophony of battle sounds and protests that lingered in his ears with a determined shake of his head in order that he may fill it with the much more favorable hymns of Luna’s breathy moans, the wasted teen felt a wash of misery sink deep in his bones. The desperation propelled him in a haphazard lunge to her crotch, until the bridge of his nose bashed into her pubic bone, his glasses digging into his cheeks.





Luna yelped as her body jerked forward. Harry swore under his breath then uttered a quick apology with an abashed roll of his eyes. He rubbed the offended area to mitigate the sting, but as she relaxed and eased into his touch once more, the boy watched as his fingers slid over that fleshy hood and settle onto a wrinkled nub of skin. Her bottom moved upwards again, but this time in a thrust for more contact. He licked the pad of his thumb before pressing against that tip and rubbed harder. Harry astonished at the way her sex seemed to redefine its shape before his unblinking eyes. This close he could see her juices secrete from her depths like the very spring of life. His tongue responded before his mind could catch up, and in a second he was licking and slurping his way into oblivion. He gulped her pearly issue like a starving man and swirled it around his mouth, mingling it with his spit then spreading the mixture back across her slit.





He could hear some kind of meandering chant from somewhere above his head, and wondered idly if Luna could possibly feel as hungry as he was right now. It was a high he’d never before experienced, this dominating force that hovered around him as he took control over someone else’s pleasure. With a gradual awareness, Harry felt a tightening grip around a raven lock of his hair and a tug upwards. There was a hand at the side of his face urging him back to that protected pith of flesh and he lavished it with their combined fluids as he nibbled and sucked it just as he’d punished her lips earlier. In a detached sense of analysis, he supposed her female folds were much like the lips of her mouth, and he approached the idea with relish as he increased his tempo of suction. Without stopping his worship, the boy slid his two fingers back into her swollen hole. She felt so fucking deep, he thought gobsmacked, and a guttural timbre climbed up from his throat. The girl under his power moaned in reply and Harry’s fingers pumped in and out of her with a reckless glee.





“Oh, Morgana! Don’t stop, Harry! More! Please!”





As Luna’s cries echoed into the lightening sky Harry could barely register the faint twittering of birds greeting the new morning. He added a third finger and pushed them as deep as they could go to the tops of the knuckles, his hand butting against her, soaked with her essence. Even amidst all the frenzied action, he felt her slickness roll down his skin in fat dewy beads. The whole of his being curved up around this mysterious girl as he let his body listen to hers, in the same way he was attuned to his broom, flying through the air like he was a part of the wind. It was an intuitive act and he drew from that well now as he heard the tiny flutters signaling the girl’s spiraling rise towards her release. He sucked hard on that nub, his mouth feeling like it was wrapped around her beating heart, and as he brought his teeth to her pulse they bit her instinctively. The sudden slam of her cunt into his waiting maw was like a bolt of lightning for the boy as her gargled scream rent the early dawn. White points of light danced behind his eyes as his scar burned in solidarity and he actively gulped down his reward from her gushing cunt.







Harry was transformed.







Luna’s crumpled body wracked with sobs and expulsions of deep breaths. The boy stared at her in a mixture of pride and veneration. He glanced down at his prick hesitantly, expecting to see his own emissions scattered over the cloth (would he even be able to see it?), but was surprised to see its still stiffened form standing in drooling attention. Harry appraised Luna again as she tried to regain control of her breathing. He supposed it was now or never.





The girl was lying with her eyes shut whispering a prayer of thanks. As he pulled closer to her face, he heard his name repeatedly in a tumbling mantra of gratitude. It felt fucking magnificent. For the first time this evening, Harry noticed the absence of her ever-present butterbeer necklace and it occurred to him that she looked different to him now. She no longer possessed the air of silliness and whimsy. She was really a young woman, one with a sexual knowing that delineated her from the other girls he knew. And he wanted to fuck her now, fuck her hard, fuck her into the ground. The chant grew louder in Harry’s head.





There was something indefinably delicious about admitting what a dirty, dirty boy he truly was at heart. It was a part of him that absolutely no one in the wizarding world had any knowledge of, all except this girl underneath him. It was a bit of an epiphany, really. He wondered again in an unfamiliar voice how far he could push her, even as he sought out ways to protect her.





He leaned down to kiss her in her afterglow, her face positively beaming in a rushing euphoria. He captured her lips again and rubbed his cum-soaked face against her own. She pulled back a little at first with the pungent aroma assailing her, but Harry reached up to hold her head in place and sighed in her mouth. He adjusted himself on top of her while settling between her thighs once more. “Open your legs more, okay?” he motioned to her and she obliged his command, those sparkly gray irises never leaving his countenance.





“Harry?”





“Yes?”





“Are you okay?” she asked in a concerned hush.





“I’m,” he searched for the words for a second, “I’m bloody elated. I hope to be even better in another two minutes.”





“Harry?” she repeated, seemingly unaware of Harry stroking his rigid cock against her opening.





“Yes, Luna?” he responded, growing steadily irritated with this style of questioning.





“I’m sorry about Dumbledore tonight. You must have witnessed some awful things.”





Thud.





It was as if time stopped for a moment while he held himself over the girl with his having-endured-all-it-could pecker in one hand ready to penetrate, figuratively and literally, into the unknown. This was about escape. This was about controlling one’s own fate. He didn’t need her pity. He needed a good shag. He’d thought she’d understood. That terrible fury rose up in him again and he closed his eyes to a seething mass of reds and green strikes as the night’s failures flashed in his head like lurid pictures out of an old comic book. He swallowed.





“Luna?”





“Yes, Harry?”





“For once, why don’t you shut your fucking gob.” He plunged his ramrod prick into her wet heat and pushed deep.





Sound disappeared but for a whooshing in his ear drums as soon as he entered her. As he leaned his palms flat against the stone, he straightened his arms and used his bum like a pendulum swinging into that place of silent pulsing, while a tight pressure built up in his spine and traveled down behind his bollocks. He stared down at Luna’s blank gaze in a hungry rage. He imagined that this was what Professor Lupin might feel as he ripped at his skin while the beast burst forth. Looking in those saucer eyes was like falling into silver pools of reckoning and he tried to reach for that calm he’d had moments after her orgasm. Shame waved its red flag again and he fought it like a bull in an arena, his imaginary horns driving his head into Luna’s chest. His hands pulled up and he reached for her thighs again, pushing them wide as he rode her into the enchanted floor, her hips meeting his as he reached ever deeper, ever further for his escape.





“God, I need to get deeper. Let me get deeper, okay?!” He shouted to her in a frantic plea. “Harry, I’m trying,” came her reply, and he looked up to see that he’d pushed her legs up against the sides of her breasts, her ankles and feet flailing over his shoulders as he rammed into her. Her face was twisted in want, but as Harry stared in horror, it morphed into a cavalcade of the adults in his life molding his very existence. “Stop!” he shouted. Those ghostly masks swam before Harry’s eyes and he shut his lids against their demands and their expectations.





“You don’t own me! You don’t! I can’t be everything you want!” His voice rang through the last wisps of blackened sky as his relentless shaft searched deep in the willowy, wanton, woeful girl locked in this savage union. And as those faces taunted him, even the twinkling blue emanating from his mentor, the man who set him on this road and taught him to take back his fate, his mind whirled with the thousands of words he wanted to express. He wouldn’t hold back anymore, his destiny was calling.





“Fuck! You!” he wrenched out in great heaping sobs. Somewhere in the background of this miasma of loathing, he could hear Luna’s voice steering him back to safety. She hooked her feet tight around his neck, her toes pointing to the evaporating moon and howled while Harry hit a wall so hard his sight went white and then popped in little eruptions of light with the sound of rushing water against his senses. His cock shook its spasmodic release before floating into blissful nothingness as his body fell upon the girl.







After a few minutes of groggy silence, Harry rolled his heaviness off of Luna and lie beside her. He could see tears streaking her cheeks, but her expression was serene and sported a beatific smile. He studied her face in reverence and awe as the moment of his purging clung to him in sweat. She was a miracle, he decided. He had hold of a miracle. He knew the demons were still there, could feel them jostling for attention in his subconscious, but for right now he was sated and sane. Clarity enveloped him like a cheering charm and he smiled at Luna’s peaceful state of being.





Peace. He could make peace with this. He could finish the job Dumbledore had begun, no, Voldemort had begun. Harry would find a way to defeat him. He could feel it as sure as he felt Luna’s hand pressed into his.









I would love to hear your comments