Disclaimer: The author of this fanfiction does not, in any way, profit from the story. All creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).
The Joining of Bodies
by Pout
“Oh God.”
The moan echoed sharply, knifing through the midnight silence of a sleeping castle. An answering sigh slithered through the air.
“Faster!”
The occupants of the dark classroom panted in strained passion. Somewhere along the way, they had given up their attempt to maintain a level of quiet. Quick, wet sounds accompanied their tryst in the dark. Frantic hands urged the act on: faster, harder, more.
Breaths were not taken, they were swallowed. Eyes squinted closed, as if to bar against the amazing black of the lightless room.
“Oh God!”
“Fuck! Yes!”
Deities and profanities mixed freely, thrust together by heat and friction, need and desperation.
No names.
In darkness, with no names, only bodies performed, only bodies twisted and writhed, only bodies climaxed in messy release. And when the door clicked shut, the act could be denied, for only bodies had visited that night.
* * *
“Who is it that you go to in the middle of the night, Harry?”
“What?”
“You leave in the middle of the night, Harry. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”
“Wh-what are you talking about? I didn’t go anywhere last night.”
“Yeah. I know. I’m not talking about last night. You’ve left every other night this past week. Care to explain?”
“Not really.”
* * *
Push, push, push, his mind chanted as his body obeyed. The breath left his body and soon he was decorating the desktop beneath him. Behind him, a body pressed close, smothered him, shook and withdrew. Good, so good, his mind praised.
* * *
“All right. Fine. I’ve been screwing a Ravenclaw. Now, where have you been going?”
“What?”
“You leave in the middle of the night, Ron. I did finally notice.”
“Finally.”
“I’ve been busy. So where do you go? Is it a girl?”
“No.”
* * *
This is sick, he thought. I’m sick.
So good, so good, his mind praised.
* * *
“Come on, Ron. I told you about mine.”
“I didn’t badger you into telling. You told me on your own so you’d have leverage against me.”
“Yeah, and now I’m using it. I told you. Now, you tell me.”
“I really can’t, Harry. I’m sorry.”
* * *
It’s mad tonight. There’s a lot of grabbing and scratching and biting and hissing. The dark is hot because of it. The blackness is red hot. The need is crackling and spitting. Bodies are insistent.
In the darkness, nothing is sacred and their cries worship the fact.
* * *
Harry watches and his eyes grow wide. The door swings back, about to shut, the click is anticipated, but first-
“Ron. And Malfoy? Oh God.”
No names.
Click.
The darkness is behind them.
* * *
“It’s insane, Ron! We hate him! He insults you. You hit him. It’s been-”
“It’s different, Harry. Will you just breathe for a moment?”
“How long has this been going on?”
“It’s never going to happen again.”
“What? Oh my God. I don’t think I can take all this right now.”
“It’s not that big a deal, Harry.”
“Yeah, you’re only shagging our worst enemy. It’s like… It’s like…”
“Like sleeping with a snake? Like fucking a sharp knife?”
Harry’s nod was accompanied by a disturbed grimace.
“Yeah. Well, it won’t happen again, so just breathe and get over it.”
* * *
During the day, the room is bright and exposed. They cross paths here and neither is bitter, neither acknowledges that anything ever happened under the cover of night. They were bodies, but now they’ve been named, and the darkness only welcomes the nameless, so they meet no more.
If you would like to provide feedback on this story, please feel free to e-mail me at: poutonly@gmail.com.