Mad Snorkacks and Englishmen

A/N: DarQuing, I hope you get a better sense of Ginny in this chapter. You inadvertently brought up a good point, in that I haven\'t really established how crucial that quote from HBP at the opening is to my story. I\'ve used it as a tipping point to begin the action, but everything I\'m writing is meant to run concurrent to the original text. We\'re at the end of HBP now, and will be moving into DH territory soon, but I have no plans to re-write any of the scenes out of the books, merely refer to them through other viewpoints of the characters. Hope this helps. The plot will eventually start to fracture into its own entity, but rest assured, Ginny will be dealt with.









Chapter 4: Sticks and Stones







The girl with silver stars in her eyes sat on the folded chair and watched the Headmaster’s body disappear into flame. A moment later, the pyre was replaced by a grand, white tomb as Fawkes’ lamentation rolled through the congregation like so much billowy smoke from the aftermath of a cauldron’s boom. Her heart felt besieged by the melancholy swan song for its beloved master, but instead of the sound imbuing her with the pain of loss, she felt strangely soothed and strengthened by the phoenix’s cry. The comfort she derived somehow dovetailed the feelings she carried for Harry and the power she’d been able to draw from him since Dumbledore’s murder at the hands of Severus Snape.





Harry’s sudden intrusion into her thoughts made her peer across the body of Neville Longbottom sitting next to her to try and catch a glimpse of the dark-haired boy on the other side of the aisle. Well, she supposed she could hardly consider it an intrusion since The-Boy-Who-Lived spent most of her waking moments and pretty much all of her non wisping around inside of her head. It appeared to the girl that she had become connected to him in ways beyond her comprehension just yet, although Merlin knew she was trying to figure it out. Luna had settled on the premise that her admiration for him had simply spiraled into something more hormonal and raw after the activities they’d shared these last few days and consequently she was not thinking in rational terms; her affected state impervious to the usual barrage of hypotheticals and crippling data she collected to support her isolated status. Luna had diluted her pariah existence down to a science, after all. She had assumed the role of the observer with humility and accepted that no one had need of her input, and this let her go about her days in a haze of low expectation and minimal discomfort. But there was still that flickering fire inside her that insisted upon inflicting her personality into the lives of people she deemed ‘good’; people she wanted to call friends.





Friends were a foreign concept to her, but lately she had felt worthy of the challenge to intuit the ways of camaraderie. Neville and Ginny had extended a summons to her in their conversation and she had been only too happy to answer, and through the DA she had watched it blossom to a pseudo-friendship of sorts, peers she could count on to be nice to her and not be dismissive when she waxed on about her father’s research. The red-headed girl embodied a vivaciousness that sparked something hot in Luna, and Ginny’s gregarious nature had afforded her ample opportunities to study the ways that affability would squeeze through the skin of the Weasley witch like a sieve infecting all who came near.





Similarly, she studiously followed the movements of her comrade-in-unpopularity to the right of her. Neville was such a sweet and unassuming fellow and his disposition was significantly lightened when approached with the respect of his mates. But it wasn’t as constant as the shadow of his debilitating self-esteem which tended to poison the diffident wizard’s straining confidence at every opportunity. Luna had often considered giving him a taste of what the Slytherin and Ravenclaw boys that cornered her regularly sought. It might give him the boost that he needed, she assayed. She worried, however, that she would enjoy the encounter more so than he, as her conscience posited his discomfiture in such a situation. The last thing she would want to do is cause him any uneasiness or possible humiliation. He was as close to a real friend as she was ever likely to have. Except for maybe Harry.





A sudden image of her engaging Harry in fellatio popped into her thoughts, the visual making her breasts ache and her nethers tingle. In the course of her servitude, Luna had perfected her skills of the oral variety with great concentration and a dexterous mouth. There was a perverse thrill in admitting to herself that she was quite eager to improve those abilities which garnered such an enthusiastic reception from her tormentors. She felt a distinctly vengeful sense of sated satisfaction after making them drool and having them beg her for their release while she tantalized them into greater heights of sexual sloppiness. They would orgasm into her gullet and onto her face and gloat in their domination, but Luna knew she was guiding the action to its coerced conclusion. It would be such an easy slide for them to move their callous demands into pure brutality. She was ever watchful of their progressing moods, ever careful to push the tide in her favor.





Of course, intellectually, Luna somehow knew that providing them with such a pleasurable dispensation only kept them coming back and she foolishly hoped that Malfoy’s disappearance meant they would finally leave her alone. Without their anointed leader conducting them, surely they would hesitate to pursue her in the following school year. If the school even re-opened, she wondered. This drew her attention back to the soft snuffles and sobs around her as the music came to a close. Her eyes slanted again in Harry’s direction and with heavy compassion noted the tears falling fast down his cheeks. The boy quickly looked away towards the lake, though, concealing his conspicuous grieving from the crowd and the girlfriend at his side. In a surreal moment, Luna daydreamed running to him in a show of histrionics, clutching him to her bosom while she bade him to unload his pain directly into her heart, screaming to Merlin and all who were near to save this boy from any more anguish. She shook her head back into reality. How silly, and so unlike her. But that very real need to administer whatever comfort she could muster swelled inside her like a hot-air balloon. Harry deserved relief; he deserved an outlet from the crushing expectation which the Wizarding world continued to lower on his shoulders. And she had resolved to give it him.





After the service had ended and the attendees slowly disbanded, a stream of students, teachers, parents and dignitaries poured back into the castle. Luna trod up to Ravenclaw tower, a certain apprehension in her steps along the way. It would hurt to be away from Harry now, she thought distantly. The idea that she would miss him in the hiatus came to her with muted shock as the admission caused her a physical pain in her gut. That longing for the boy had become most acute in a very short time and now she would have all summer to drown in it. What unmitigated torture for her, she thought with some detachment. Perhaps she could use a bit of a diversion in the interim. Maybe she’d paint a mural for her room.





By the time she’d pulled the contents of her trunk together and dressed for the ride home, Luna’s thoughts had run through a string of safe subjects as she tried vainly to file Harry away into storage. It would do her no good to dwell on his absence from her days ahead. It was time to look forward to Daddy and what trips they had planned together. Living with her father meant living with a perpetual assault of information, though it was cheerily welcomed. The man was a walking encyclopaedia whose brilliance never ceased to enrich and inspire his daughter. He took her to so many enchanting places, both figuratively and through their travels afield. She adored the time she spent with him and took great pride in his many achievements. He saw The Quibbler as just another phase of his never-ending education in the mysteries and marvels of the world. Yet, the doting daughter was all too-aware of the side-benefits of this latest undertaking to his mental health. The periodical had reawakened a faith in her father that had been dashed since their troubles began, and it was affirming to see him so steeped in his passion. There were still the occasional bad days, but they were fewer and further between.





As Luna headed towards the destination point for the Hogwarts Express, she wondered if Harry would join her and Neville in their compartment for the ride home. Damn. She wasn’t supposed to be thinking about him. He had Ginny to keep him company while Hermione and Ron performed their duties as prefects. But….maybe. Perhaps the gods would grant her benevolence and allow her to bask in the couple’s presence anyway. Unfortunately, she didn’t really believe in the gods or their ability in rewarding her. Damn, again.





So it was that she found herself lost deep in thought as she dreamily traipsed through the corridor of the Express when a bump to her back and a foreboding presence made her jump around.





“Keep movin’, luv,” came the low order from Goyle as he pushed her forward with his bulk, never slowing his step. Flanked by the usual gang, sans Draco, including his Tweedle-Dum, then Vaisey, and Nott, the four boys made a moving wall behind her as they continued towards the back of the train. Luna spun her head around to take in her location, realizing too late that she had automatically headed toward the more thinly populated section out of habit. It was slow to fill up back here and the booths she passed were still mostly empty with only a smattering of faces about. One of those faces poked out into the hallway now, sizing up the situation with a leer. Bugger. It was that overeager Ravenclaw, Terry Boot, who always managed to spray his cum into her hair.





“Oooh, what’s this? Taking the Goodlove for a spin?” he smirked in a husky drawl. He probably fancied himself as posh as the missing Malfoy prince the way he was always preening in any available reflection. Luna wished she’d known what an arse he was when they practiced together with the DA lessons. She’d actually felt kindly to him once upon a time. At least he had kept his mouth shut to the rest of her house after hearing about her exploits from Belby. No, he just used the threat of soiling her reputation to obtain his own style of payment for his silence. It wasn’t that Luna truly feared she had a reputation worth damaging, but she didn’t need any more of the harassment. She had enough on her plate as it was.





“Oi, don’t give us any shite, you ponce. We don’t need no fackin’ Raver to mix wid’ our bis’ness. Us real men have the bird for the hour. Go wank yourse’f, cunt, you can have her later.” Crabbe was nothing if not eloquently thuggish. He took it to a whole new level.







“You’re mental. There’ll be too many people back here before long. Where’re you taking her? I’ll stand watch if you give me a turn,” the boy countered.





The Slytherins looked each other over in consideration of his proposal before a few nodded their approval. Goyle met Boot’s eye and then jerked his head in a conspiratorial motion to a farther point down the corridor.





“We’re taking the last compartment. It’ll be a while before the prefects and the Trolley bitch make it down here.”





In all the back and forth, Luna kept her head down and waited for their next move. It was easier to stay quiet and just get this over with. She was not happy about Boot’s inclusion, especially with Nott in the bunch; he took forever. She was sure to be exhausted by the time they were through. All of a sudden, a dash of hope flowered in her chest. The girl raised her head and tried to see behind the shoulders of the blocks of boy at her back, straining for a glimpse of messy black hair and glasses.





Would Harry sense she was in need of him?





“C’mon, let’s not muck about. Move it, Goodlove. I want you on your knees the minute you’re in there.” Goyle sped up his pace till the boys were practically racing down the final strip. She could see out of the back windows of their train car that students were still milling around the tracks waiting to get on. There was still some time before they would even be moving. It seemed she would be with them for a while, she reckoned, and Luna closed her eyes and attempted to mentally prepare herself for their demands and their taunts.





True to fashion, her entry into the final compartment was accompanied by a hard shove to her back. Luna fell to her knees as the gang scuttled in around her. It looked like one of them was drawing the shades over the glass. Terry hovered at the doorway, but was promptly kicked back into the passageway and instructed to take guard.





Then Goyle grabbed her chin and gave her a nasty smile. “There, there, luv. We’ve missed you, is all. I was just telling me mates this morning that we couldn’t possibly go home for summer without one more visit with Loony Suckgood.” He sneered at the latest nickname they had given her. It was Goyle who had come up with the moniker; he was obviously quite impressed with his cleverness. Luna sighed. With Malfoy gone, that would mean it was Goyle who got first dibs. He was a big bloke with a big dick and one who reveled in making her choke on it. The strapping boy pulled back his robe and started to unbuckle his pants.





“Now, Loony. Let’s get those pretty lips to use, shall we?”





The girl with flat grey eyes wished one more time for Harry to hear her silent call.





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





The Chosen One was feeling slightly annoyed. He’d been listening to Neville discussing his upcoming plans during the break in half-attention mode, while inside he was trying to come to terms with his break-up with Ginny, and the boy was brooding in his thoughts. He had only wanted to protect her, he reasoned, and yet her cool reception of him dissolving the relationship had bothered him. Ginny was a beautiful girl, she was bright and spirited, she was fun. She totally got his sarcastic sense of humour. Harry had been completely sincere when he told her his time with her had been like something out of another person’s life. She had let him feel normal, something even Ron and Hermione couldn’t always accomplish. It had felt huge for Harry, though, until having his real life come careening down on his head in the midst of his teen romance put things back into bleak perspective. He chided himself again that he’d been kidding himself into thinking he could be a part of that kind of experience.





However, her words at the funeral had brought into sharp focus how different they both saw his situation. It\'s for some stupid noble reason, isn\'t it? she had asked him. Why did people always assume he wanted to be noble, as if he actively pursued the idea. It wasn’t a fucking calling. Just like Hermione criticizing him for his “saving people thing”. Fuck that. This wasn’t anything calculated, his responses were as natural as breathing. He didn’t want any of this. It had been thrust on him by a madman, what was he supposed to do? Sit back and put his head in the sand?





I knew this would happen in the end. I knew you wouldn\'t be happy unless you were hunting down Voldemort. Maybe that\'s why I like you so much.





That had stopped him cold. He wouldn’t be happy? What a horrible choice of word. It’s true; he did want Voldemort to pay for every bit of misery and loss he had ever cast out, especially to the Boy-Who-Lived. It was also true that he wanted to be the one to finish this. It was only right. The megalomaniac had marked Harry; he had tried to kill him, had tortured him, and had murdered his parents, striking them down in cold blood in their own home. How on earth was he supposed to feel about this? Even still, arriving at this decision had not been easy for the teen; in fact it had been agonizing. In the end, though, it was what Dumbledore had shown him, that there was a difference between being dragged into his destiny kicking and screaming than to facing it unflinching riding in on your own steam. And she thought he was happy to do it? HAPPY?? It had taken everything in Harry’s control not to slap her. He stared at her now through narrow slits as she chattered blithely with Neville while Harry stewed.





The door slid open and Hermione and Ron descended into the padded benches with a weary gust of air. Ron still looked out of sorts from the funeral, and he was unusually reticent now as Hermione interjected into the conversation.





“The Express isn’t even full. It appears quite a few students went home before Dumbledore’s send-off.” Her eyes were still red and puffy from earlier, but her demeanor was business-like and sharp. “Everyone just looks so sapped. It must have been grueling for McGonagall these last few days.”





“I know, poor thing. But she’s hard as slab, that one. I’m sure she got through it well enough,” Ginny supplied. “It was Flitwick who was the real mess. I saw him bawling some more as we were heading out of the gates.”





At the mention of Flitwick, Harry suddenly looked around the cabin expecting to see blonde hair and Spectrespecs. Why wasn’t she here? No wonder he’d been caught up in all his angst, she wasn’t around to take his mind off it.





“Uh, Neville, did Luna say where she was heading after the service? I thought she would be on the train with the rest of us.” Harry frowned upon thinking that he might not get see her at all before, well, he wasn’t really sure, was he? He certainly wouldn’t be seeing her at school since he had decided not to return.





“No, she should be on the train,” Neville offered. They’d already been in motion for the last half hour and he was only just wondering about her now, Harry thought shamefully. He had a burning need to see her, all of a sudden, and he turned to his friend in alarm.





“What do you mean, she’s on here? Where would she be? I thought you two always sat together?” Neville blushed at that as if he’d been caught in a secret tryst, but Harry had only meant it as an observation. He was becoming quickly frustrated by her absence. He wanted her now, damnit.





“Maybe she decided to sit with someone else, Harry, why are you causing such a fuss over her whereabouts?” Ginny asked accusingly. Harry gave her a haughty glare. “Who would she be sitting with aside from us, Gin? All of her pals who call her Loony?” He threw up his hands at her ridiculous suggestion then stood up in aggravation. Ginny looked affronted by his confrontational attitude.





“Where are you going?” Ron asked as Harry headed for the door.





“Where do you think, I’m going to find out where she is,” he rumbled as he slid back the partition on its track. The wild-haired teen was storming down the passage before anyone could think to protest and his concentration settled on the path ahead of him as he promptly forgot his friends. There was no one that he could possibly think of that Luna would want to sit with outside of their circle, but he was certainly familiar with a few faces that just might want to occupy their time with her regardless of consent. He began checking through every window on his way down the corridor, receiving some curious stares along the way, but it was taking too long like this. He felt a hard yank in his gut telling him that something was wrong. He stopped for a moment and considered his options.





Where would he go if he was a randy wanker in need of some oral attention? He started to run through the cars on his way to the back.





As he barged towards the end of the train, he could see that prig Terry Boot dawdling in the aisle up ahead. He slowed his steps and narrowed his gaze suspiciously. Terry startled as soon as he noticed the boy advancing, and his guilty expression was immediately present. Harry’s eyes slid to the compartment on the left of the Ravenclaw and saw the windows blocked from intruders. The whole scenario looked a bit dodgy. Harry sauntered up to him and gave him a darkened glare.





“What are you doing out here, Boot? Where’s your boyfriend?” he snarled, referring to Terry’s sidekick, Anthony Goldstein.





“Oh, very funny, are we? Sod off, Potter. I don’t answer to you.” Boot spoke tough, but his twitches belied his talk. He was nervous, alright. While the respect they held for each other was flimsy and there existed a bit of house rivalry between both boys, Terry still exhibited a jealous awe for the hyped youth and his skill.





“What’s going on in there?” Harry gestured his head to the shaded booth. He heard titters of churlish laughter from inside. He moved towards the door.





“Hey!” Boot shouted, and the laughter shut off abruptly. Harry went to pull back on the frame, but the catch had been locked. His wand was out and he charmed the door open. The boy slid it open with such force, the door slammed back on its track. The picture that it revealed slammed into Harry just as hard.





Goyle and his buddies had stopped what they were doing to turn to him with frozen looks on their faces, caught in depraved tableaux. There between them on the floor was Luna with two of their cocks in her small hands pointed toward her like hoses. Pearly strands of spunk decorated her cheeks and nose. Her mouth was wide open in shock while those saucer eyes looked comical in their prominence. The whole lot of them stood there staring at each other for another second before Harry broke the charm. He cast a Stupefy to Vaisey on his left and then punched Crabbe in the stomach on his right with all of the force his fist would allow, all before the hoods could react. The portly Slytherin oofed inwards as he landed back in his seat, his reddened knob still flailing about the open crotch of his trousers. Then Harry bore down on the teen holding Luna’s hair with his prick in her face. Harry’s fists flew hard into the assailant’s head until he heard the gratifying crunch of bone and saw blood spurt from the boy’s nose. Nott had cried out and fallen back, while Goyle tried to jump Harry and Boot called for back-up from behind. Yet, Harry was already too far gone in his rage. Goyle had at least a foot on him plus several stone, but the smaller boy pummeled his bloody knuckles into the git’s face and chest until he had him on his knees. Harry then kicked him viciously in the groin and Goyle screamed in falsetto before Crabbe was upon him again, having briefly recovered. Harry backed the heavy lad into the doorway frame as hard as he could manage, the bang of the boy’s head echoing through the passage.





Meanwhile, Luna had gotten out of the way and crawled into a corner. She threw her hands over her head at first, as if waiting for bombs, but then she pressed into action as she remembered her wand that had been knocked from behind her ear. She saw it rolled against the bench under the Stupefied Vaisey and bounced to retrieve it, turning it quickly on Harry’s opponents. By this time, several other students had come out of their own compartments and were making their way to the commotion. Harry had turned to Boot and was threatening him with his own wand.





“Get the fuck out of my way, now,” he told him gravely. Boot stepped to the side to make way for the dark, heaving boy and then glanced over to the on-lookers. Harry reached across to grab Luna’s hand then pulled her up so hard her body leapt into his. He pulled her out into the corridor and they bypassed the ogling crowd to head back in the other direction. Harry tugged her along as he sped down the carpeted hall and Luna tried to keep up with him without tripping into the boy. He didn’t speak, he didn’t turn to her; he just kept barreling along past the other booths while his hand on her wrist gripped so hard she feared it might break.





Midway through the train, Harry strode up to one of the doors with a WC lettered across it. It was apparently occupied as the handle was locked. He moved farther down until he came to another loo, this time with better results. Harry grabbed the doorknob and pushed in, still pulling Luna along. Once he’d stepped inside, he threw her against the wall and shut the door with a slam. Then he pointed to it and ushered a few spells in a low murmur, Luna could guess which ones. When he turned to her, she felt completely terrified. She had never seen Harry so angry before, even on top of the Astronomy tower. He was seething, his chest expanding in and out like an accordion, and for a moment Luna flashed on that nasty dragon he’d fought in the First Challenge of the tournament. She was actually afraid of him right now. His glasses were askew, and a bruise was starting to form on his cheek. His lip was split, too, she could see, a few drops of blood stained his chin.





“What. The. Fuck. Was that about?” His cold stare was unnerving her, aside from his mouth his mask was still as death.





Luna stared frozen again as her mind leaped around for some kind of trinket, some kind of balm she could use to soothe this wild boy in front of her. But nothing was there, nothing she could tangibly offer him, no words that would leave that dry mouth to utter in prostration. Her mind was blank except for the unadulterated fear swimming through her brain in spurts of black ink. A frisson of eroticism coursed through her like lightening and the residual impact caused her face to burn red as deep feelings of shame poured over her in a wave of hot piss. She thought her limbs might tear from her body.





Harry’s face contorted into a menacing sneer. “Do you want to explain to me why you let them put you in that position AGAIN? Is there some deep-seated need for cock you neglected to tell me about, Luna?”





The girl trembled as tears pricked her glassy orbs. She remained silent.





Harry grabbed her by the hair and pulled her towards the basin, the small space of the bathroom cramping their movement. Then he pushed her head in the sink as he turned on the faucet, cupping his hand under the flow to splash cold water against her contaminated skin. Luna spluttered from the rinsing.





“I can’t even fucking look at you like that,” he hissed hard bent over her shoulder as his rough ablutions continued to wipe away the ropes of sperm. “Why would you just take it? What is the matter with you?!” He pulled her up by the arm like a rag doll and shook her, his snarling face looming in close.







“Do you like it, Luna? Is that what this is? I mean, I know you can fight, I taught you, for fuck sake!” Still his berating went on as he pushed her back against the tiles, his palm in her chest now.





“Answer me, god damn it!! I want you to tell me!” The girl started to shake violently when sobs began to wrench through her. The boy just looked at her with naked disgust and incredulity. Harry got up close again, his lips almost touching her cheek as he spewed vile invectives in a hoarse whisper.





“Do you like those Slytherin cocks in your throat? How many does it take to make your cunt throb? Sucking and slurping them down like a fucking slag. Tell me that you liked it, Luna. I want to hear you say it. Tell me how much you want to suck my prick right now, you bloody freak.” He emphasized his last demand by slamming her against the wall again with his fingers curved into fists of her robe.





Luna couldn’t take his venomous taunting anymore, the pain like slashes from a wielding razor. This wasn’t her Harry. She opened her mouth…and barked.





“Arf!!” She stared dead in his blackening eyes and watched them grow large. “Arf, Arf!!! ARF!!” The girl felt unhinged; she didn’t think she could stop this. She pleaded with him through expression to help her stop. “Woof! Woof! ARF!"





His cruel speech was struck dumb by her inarticulate outburst, but his horrified look said it all. Luna could only watch the next move unfold in a slow motion reel as Harry’s hand reached out and struck her face hard. The slap knocked her head sideways into the wall, but the dog cries had thankfully ceased. Neither one moved for a moment, the only sound their heavy breathing distorted by the tiled room. Harry put his hand to his mouth in disbelief then extended it back to her in a gentle arc through the space between them in a silent request. She let him caress the hot handprint on her cheek, her body suddenly still.





“Luna, oh my god,” came his hushed apology. Then the words were all over her skin as she felt Harry murmur “sorry” into it over and over between his kisses, his body pressed tight against hers. He put his hands to each side of her head and brought his lips to her mouth in further entreaty. Luna kissed him in reply with all of her heart, so happy was she to have him back again.





“I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean it, didn’t mean it” went his new chant, but she let his hands roam all over her while he cried; his breath like hot scorches across her goosepimpled flesh. He grabbed her bottom suddenly and squeezed her to him, his tongue dancing with hers across time, her body absorbing into his. She wanted to breathe his oxygen into her lungs, wanted to feel his heart beating inside of her ribcage. She tasted the coppery tang of blood from his mouth and swallowed it down. Harry was soon pulling at her robe, as he popped open buttons and dragged the heavy layers downward. He stepped back in an agitated stance as he went to rip his own robe from his frame. Unceremoniously dumping the cover to the floor, he then threw himself down on his knees before Luna in supplication, his fingers reaching behind her waist to unhook her skirt. She arched her hips up slightly to gain him better access, and then down came the slip, down came her white cotton panties, and then Harry was opening her up, his tongue probing through her in another plea for absolution. Luna opened her mouth to sound a loud grunt, only to feel him grab her with another intense dash, and then her legs were around his head, her thighs resting on the boy’s shoulders, while Harry pushed deeper with his tongue like a man dying, gasping for his last breath.





“Harry,” came her voice at last.





By this time, the boy was pushing her up on his shoulders so that her feet were no longer on the floor and they dangled over his back; her lime green laced socks tucked in her beloved orange high tops grazing his waist. Luna felt her back start to slide, but Harry wrapped his arms up over her thighs and held on, his licking and plunging developing a bobbing motion that surged her up and down like a perverted amusement park ride. There were deep groans coming out of her now in a slow cadence blurting her song of release. Her hands buried deep in those inky black roots, fingers furrowing along his scalp like caterpillars inching forward to find food. Harry urged her on, moaning his approval of her massage while he coaxed her towards her explosive reward. He swirled his tongue around her cunt lips and sucked hard on her fleshy bundle of nerves till Luna was seeing the night stars blink in her vision. And with one final thrust inside her, Luna arched flush against his mouth and screamed while a veritable river of pearlescent benediction rolled down into his waiting gob, like a communion of the blood turned into wine.





Then the boy-who-was-alive was crying: Crying in great heaping sobs, his mouth still against her sex, his twisted lips sucking her dry while he fought for air. The wetness she now felt between her legs was the spill of tears from his cheeks. He shuddered deeply in a paroxysm of misery, his sobs wracking his shoulders underneath her, but she calmly stroked his head, carding through that raven hair like her mother used to do for her as a child. Eventually, Harry’s weeping faded into sniffles and he wrapped his hands under her bum as he gently slid her off of him. Luna let him take her to the floor, her legs folding under her while she watched him.





Harry expelled a sigh in one long winding breath. “Luna,” he croaked, “Merlin, please forgive me.” Luna let the corners of her mouth turn up into her wistful smile.





“I’m sorry, Harry.”





He looked at her in confusion, then cast his eyes down and sighed again. “That’s not how it’s supposed to work, Luna,” as he shook his head ruefully. “It’s all gone tits-up, hasn’t it?”





All of a sudden, the two startled violently when a heavy banging at the door broke their peace. “Oi, who’s in there and how long do you plan on being?! Some of us need a wee,” a booming voice demanded. Harry turned to the door, aggravated by the interruption, but grabbed his wand to motion the Muffliato off before he replied.





“Leave me alone, I’ve got food poisoning. Go away!” he shouted to the person outside. They heard a loud thumping of footsteps heading away while someone muttered rude epithets. Harry added another diversionary spell to the door.





The young man turned back to her with a world-weary face. He looked exhausted and beat down. Luna wished she could help him. He opened his mouth to speak and then shut it again. He looked lost.





“What is it, Harry? You can say it,” she encouraged.





Another deep sigh.





“Luna, I wish I could understand how you think. I wish I could make you see that…you’re more than what they say. You don’t need to put up with that bullying and teasing and all that bollocks.” She just blinked at him. His eyes cast to the ceiling as he groaned in frustration. He tried another tactic.





“You’re such a strong girl, Luna. I’ve seen it. I just don’t understand this, why you would be their plaything. I mean, is there….” And he hesitated, suddenly uncomfortable, “Is there something in it for you?” He asked, genuinely baffled.





Luna thought for a second before answering. “No, not really, Harry. But I don’t want them to hurt me, either. Although, they really can’t. None of them. They really can’t bother me, you know.” She narrowed her gaze trying to make him understand her. One was not the other. The ones who jeered at her, who used her; they could only hurt her if she cared. And Luna didn’t care about them. She cared about Harry, though.





Harry stared deep into her eyes for several minutes before reaching out to take her wrist. He pulled her hand toward his lap and let her feel his erection still pulsing for her, waiting patiently through all of this heartache.





“Do you feel that, Luna?” he asked her in a flat voice.





“Yes, it feels nice.”





“Take it out for me.”





Luna complied immediately, reaching over towards him while rising up on her knees, her fingers quick to pull open the clasp of his pants and tug the zipper down. She peeled back the fly and then reached into Harry’s boxers to pull free his cock. His skin felt like warm satin around a metal rod. She let her gaze linger over its perfection: the darkened flesh, the ridges of his veins, the tightened globes in their sacks like eggs, and the beckoning softness of that cushy, mouth-watering head. Luna automatically moved her lips toward it, but Harry stopped her with a hand to her shoulder.





“No. That’s not what I want. Just stroke it while you kiss me.”





“Okay.” She agreed in a baby whisper. And that’s exactly what she did. Luna gripped Harry’s hard pulse in her palm as she stroked upwards in a smooth glide. Her head lowered to receive his mouth, and he let her lips press to his as she poked her tongue out to touch his teeth. He opened wide for her. They kept up this simple exchange of pleasure for a while, stroking and kissing, kissing and stroking, stopping once in the flow as Luna held her palm open for him to swipe with his spit and then resuming her wet slide back around the heat of his prick. Too soon for her, Harry stilled her hand and moved her backward.





His voice grew rough and gravelly as he directed her. “Stand up, Luna. Grab my hand.” She propelled herself upwards before taking hold of Harry to pull him next to her. The boy immediately put his hands to her waist and turned her body towards the basin. He bid her to grab the sides and face forward.





“What are we doing,” she asked in a breathless anticipation. Harry crossed his arms across her belly and pulled himself tight against her back. His head hung over her shoulder and when he spoke, her silvery eyes looked up to meet his glittering green in the mirror.





“We are going to learn a new lesson.” He made sure he held her gaze while he went on. “I’m going to learn a new position and you’re going to learn something about yourself.” It was then that she felt Harry’s foot nudge open the inside of her legs to a wide-V. The still hot weeping cock was now rubbing against her backside. He rubbed the dew from his slit all over her arse leaving a slimy trail like a garden slug.





“Now, I want you to bend over slightly while I get inside you, but I don’t want you to break eye contact, okay?” The girl stared; a trapped bird in her throat. She nodded acquiescent to his reflection.





“Keep looking at me, and when I tell you something, I want you to listen. I want you to answer whatever I ask you. Do you follow?”





“Yes, of course, Harry.”





He looked down for a second to make sure he was heading his shaft to the right place, but glanced right back up to lock into her irises, now bright with curiosity. He grunted as he pushed forward, but she felt him ease inside her with little trouble, so slick and coated was her path. The two of them spent a few minutes getting adjusted to each other’s bodies in this pose, but then molded their forms into the rhythm as Harry slowly pistoned in and out. She moaned, but never let her eyes leave his face.





“Luna,” his breath ghosted across her cheek, turning her nipples to points of ice. “When we fought the Death Eaters at the Ministry, you went to help me, to protect me. Why?”





She didn’t think about her reply; just let the words issue forth at his prompting. “Because you’re special, Harry. You were special to me. I would do anything for you, I think.” The girl was a bit taken aback by her answer.





Harry’s face grew dark for a second, before continuing his questioning, his hands sliding up over her breasts. “So, you would do anything to help me protect what’s mine, right, what’s important to me?”





Luna thought about that a minute but then nodded with more fire in her eyes. His thrusts were still so slow, but as he increased his pressure to the tug of her nipples, her breathing became labored. Harry suddenly looked ravenous.





“But you are mine, Luna. Isn’t that so?”





The girls faltered at this bit of information. “What…what do you mean, Harry?”





“I mean, you belong to me now. These are mine,” he squeezed her tits for emphasis, “and this is mine, too,” and with that, Harry moved a hand to cup her sex, his deft fingers sliding to the places she needed his touch. “I want them and you’re going to give them to me.” He thrust hard enough at that to slam her pubis against the porcelain, but while Harry’s hand provided a buffer against the sting, she could still feel the shock reverberate through her core. Still, his palm stayed curved around her protectively, and this more than anything made her feel loved.





Harry watched her shrewdly as he waited for her to respond, but his hands kept moving, his fingers deliciously rubbing at that nub while he pumped her. He was a beautiful boy, she thought, beautiful, kind Harry Potter. She felt something deep inside her reach out to him, an ephemeral lurch of her soul, and she wanted to make him happy any way she could. She wanted to please him.





“Okay, Harry.” She whispered so low she could barely hear herself.





“Okay, what?” There was an inherent demand in the way he spoke to her. She had to give it all.





“They’re yours. My body, it’s yours. No one else’s.” She understood what he was asking of her now.





“And that means this, too,” and with that Harry crossed two fingers and slid them into her mouth, moving them in and out obscenely like a penis. Luna instinctively sucked, and Harry frigged her cunt harder never stopping the way he was fucking her into the sink. The fact that his eyes were still watching her like this, her own bulging even as her head moved lower in the mirror, made her body burn like a torch. She whimpered around the fingers in her mouth and moaned while he simultaneously pounded into her slit and abused her poor clitoris mercilessly until she felt that spooling coil start to rise.





“I don’t like it when someone messes with my stuff, Luna. Don’t like it, at all. Is that clear?” his voice had turned raspy now as his breathing came hard in her ear. “So, if anyone comes along and wants to touch what’s mine, Luna, what are you going to tell them?”





“No,” the girl whispered.





Harry pulled his fingers from her gob and used the soaked digits to grab the back of her head by another chunk of her fine hair, this time pushing her face right into the glass panel before insisting she say it again. “I want to hear it louder this time,” he ordered gruffly.





“No.” Her voice rang out clearly and the girl felt a power surge through her body from the very stem of Harry’s prick. Like a volt, it coursed through her stomach and up into her chest until it set off a charge in her vocal chords. “No!”





“What are you going to say, Luna?” shouted the boy as he drove into her with abandon. She cried out the word for him one more time before seeing her face screw up into an expression of blissful pain as her orgasm blasted through her. Harry followed hers right after with a deep groan that sank into her back. He let his forehead droop against her like that for several moments while the teens tried to catch their breath.





When he finally pulled himself off of her, sliding his spent cock back into his pants, he watched her in a daze. Luna pulled herself off the sink gingerly and turned fully to him, but didn’t know what to say. The two just stood there staring at each other until Harry cleared his throat and let his eyes move to their clothes on the floor. He bent to pick them up, but then knelt before her again as he dressed her. They remained quiet as he worked, Harry finishing with their robes back on. He took a towel off the bar on the tile and wiped her face with it, then brushed her hair back with his fingers, his movements specific and gentle. When he was done he walked them both up to the door, his hand reaching for the handle. Luna saw that the cut on his lip still bled and she suddenly thought of what she could say as she brought out her wand.







“Episkey.”







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