One Night Away From Hell

Sirius’ POV

“This is wrong,” I say to
her. I try to look away, to turn around and just leave her there,
in the deserted corridor. But it is impossible, I cannot turn
away from her. She is so beautiful tonight. Her eyes – her
beautiful, almost black eyes, how I adore those eyes! They have
such a fire in them, filled with passion and desire.

“I know. It’s probably the most
wrong thing we’ll ever do,”  she answers
with a faint smile, and puts her long-fingered hand on my cheek.
Her skin is very pale, but still it is so soft and she smells
like a rose, such vivid contrasts to her personality!   

“But you want to… anyway?”
 I ask her nervously. I wonder if she’s just making
a fool out of me. A girl like Bellatrix, not only a Slytherin but
a callous, stunningly beautiful one, would she go with an outcast
like me, and not only an outcast but also her cousin? It’s
all so wrong, and yet we are both yearning for each other. Every
inch of her body is so perfect, so fulfilled.

“Yes,” she says quietly. I
can’t remember hearing her speak so quietly ever before. I
stretch out my hand and she takes it. Hers is pale and soft, mine
is brown and rough. I lead her to the seventh floor, and she
doesn’t even object to me taking the lead. It’s not
like her. She hates following, just like I do. But for her it
doesn\'t stop there - she\'s powerful. She holds everone and
everything in her hands. Even me. Maybe that\'s why she let\'s me
decide where we are going. I stop in the middle of a corridor
with entirely blank walls. I look at her and I see from her
perplexed frown that she doesn’t know what I know about this
corridor. I tell her to concentrate on needing a bedroom. She
giggles and her eyes are full of mischief. A fleeting memory of
playing as children in a big mansion crosses my mind. I had
forgotten that she could look like that. So happy. So innocently
thrilled. So… alive.

After a mere moment I turn around to spot a
door that wasn’t there before. I smile at my lady and I open
the door that leads to the Room of Requirement. I walk in first,
and it doesn’t strike me until we’re both already
inside that maybe I should have let her go before me. She doesn\'t
seem to care, though, and just walks through the door after me. I
look around with awe in my eyes. The only furniture is a bed.
It’s a giant one, with bedclothes of satin in red, green,
gold and silver. A mixture of Slytherin and Gryffindor. Like us.

I freeze there in the doorway, but she walks
past me and respectlessly jumps up on the bed and sits down at
its center with her legs crossed. Now, I’m supposed to be
the most daring and reckless guy of our year, but I atriftrified.
It’s not as if I’ve never done this before either,
I’ve had more girls than the rest of the Gryffindor boys
have had put together. But she is different. The way she looks at
me, surveying me… It’s so clear in her eyes, she’s
not being playful and romantic, she’s challenging me. We are
two persons, two cousins, supposed to be equals, she - the
Slytherin Lady, and me - the Gryffindor Lord, opposites, but
still similar, and we have yet to see who will come out on top of
all.

Nobody is going to say that Sirius Black
doesn’t dare to take a challenge. I slowly walk toward the
bed and jump up on it me too. She just keeps smiling at me like
that, as if she is amused, as if she’s waiting for me to
prove what I can do. Well, I am gonna prove myself. She’ll
see, and she won’t be smirking then.

I tentatively put my hand on her shoulder.
Her smirk only grows wider. I climb closer to her on the bed and
start rubbing her body. I rub her shoulders, her back, I caress
her neck and her breasts… I love every moment. She is mine.
Not in the reality that awaits us right outside this room, but
this night she is mine, and I am hers.

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Bellatrix’ POV

He’s sitting there in front of me, so
scared, so shy. Not at all like they say. I have prepared myself
for a night with an experienced, self-assured lover, not a shy
schoolboy. I wonder if the stories I’ve heard of him were
all lies. Maybe, if I smile like this, he’ll get angry and
show what he’s worth… Well, it does some good.
He’s touching me now, at least. It feels good, too… His
hands are the hands of an expert, and so are mine, even though
the latter aren’t joining in. Not yet. 

When I widen my smile he seems to get a bit
angry. He moves a bit closer. That’s good, but I want him to
be closer still, so I put my arms around him and pull him closer.
Then I help him get rid of those robes. Myself, I’m only
wearing a black, slightly transparent negligé. It amazes me that
Sirius, who always breaks the rules, is wearing proper robes.

He has a gorgeous chest. I wish I had ripped
his robes off, as if I were a wild cat. I should be more vivid,
more vicious, like an animal. Suddenly I’m struck by a
daring flash and I lick his nipples. He moans and I smile, which
is unnecessary since he can’t see it because of my long
black hair falling down over my face. But I smile anyway, I feel
like smiling. His hair is rather long and black too. Well, we are
cousins. And that also means we shouldn’t be doing this. I
hope to God that noone finds out… That would be the end for
me.

The same thought seems to have struck him,
because he has turned into his usual self. It must be the
sensation of doing something he shouldn’t be doing that has
made the shy boy phase disappear, it’s almost as if
he’s grown up in just a few seconds. The way he kisses me;
as if the world depended on it, as if it was his last kiss
ever… I kiss him back with equal passion and wrap my hands
around his warm, muscular back. His skin is tanned, mine is pale.
He greedily takes off my negligé, and we wrap our naked bodies
tight together.

Never before have I experienced such a
delicate loving. Never before have I made love to someone quite
like him. Someone who shares my passion. Not like my Rodolphus,
Rodolphus is the ice I have to turn on fire. Sirius is already
burning. Him and me are equals.

He makes me lie down on the bed, and then he
separates my legs and pushes himself in between them. He starts
kissing my breasts, he sucks on them as though they were a
treasure. I close my eyes e hie his tongue travels down to my
stomach and he licks around my navel. I feel like I’m going
to explode. I wonder if he’s going to go further down, but
he doesn’t. I’m glad he doesn’t, I don’t want
to make it too quick.

I lie there like a pompous queen, not having
to do anything, just enjoying myself. I merely clutch his brown
back and respond to his kisses with all my heart while he enters
me. I’m surprised that I don’t feel a trace of pain, he
handles me so different from how the lovers I am used to do. He
thrusts and I sigh of pleasure. He thrusts again and I sigh
louder, and for every thrust I feel as if he’s pushing me
one step closer to utopia. Soon we’re both panting and
almost shouting in fervour. We are such a perfect match, never
before has the world seen a pair of lovers as passionate as us. 

When the tension finally releases I feel
like I’m a bottle of champagne which has just been uncorked.
We lie next to each other on the big bed, both of us feeling
exactly the same. As if we’re condemned to a lifetime in
hell, and were lent a night in paradise. We stare into each
other’s equally gloomy eyes. I have to fight back tears. I
know this can never happen again. We’re just not meant to
be. He knows that too. I turn away my eyes.

“D’you know what I’m gonna do
tomorrow night?” he asks me. I shiver at the mere sound of
his despaired voice. Oh, how I love him.

“No, what?” I reply. I know
he’s looking at me, but I keep staring at my nails. I
can’t look at him, I’d only cry, and I don’t want
to do that.

“I’m gonna drink so much
Firewhisky that they’ll have to carry me to the
Infirmary,” he says and his voice is very bitter and y. Please,
don’t cry, I think. I know I will too if he does.

“You do that,” I say and look into
his eyes. “Just make sure you don’t say things
you’ll regret… about us, I mean,” I say and turn
my gaze away again.

“You always worry so much,” he
says. I don’t answer him. There’s no need. We both know
that he takes too many risks withthinthinking and that I worry
and schieve too much and too carefully.

“I think I’ll be burning my
negligé tomorrow,” I say instead. He doesn’t ask why,
he understands. He knows what memories are like. They can be so
repressing. He doesn\'t blame me for wanting to get rid of future
reminders. We always understand each other. Even though he’s
in Gryffindor and I’m in Slytherin.

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