Title: Carpe noctem
Author: Caroline aka RonWeasleysGirl
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: R
Category: PWP/ Harry's POV
Disclaimer: Harry and Draco are not mine, they are JKR's. Please
don't sue, I have no money. At all. Really.
Archive: Ask me, and I'll say Yes.
Feedback: Please don't flame, this is my first H/D attempt. I know
this is been there before, probably too often and much better, but
please don't flame. Moreover, I stole half a line from a song.

Dedicated to: Arienne and Zyre, because their fiction is so inspiring.

I remember the night he came to me for the first time.

The moon had already anchored itself full and proud above Hogwarts,
shining down on me like blue ice through the open window of the
dormitory, mocking my insomnia with its silver glare. I listened to
the spring wind that rattled peacefully at the shutters, watching the
writhing shadows that were dancing on the shivering bed curtain until
I fell into a light slumber.

I remember my frightened gasp as I suddenly woke by the slender, warm
weight on my bed, how my heart leapt and started to thump frantically
against my ribs as the sheets were torn off me and his creamy-cool
skin crept across my sleep-warm body, and I sure remember how my
whole body was pulsing with desire, alarmed and electrified in every
fibre of my body, because I knew it was him.
It had to have been him.

I knew it before I even opened my sleep peppered eyes and I found
myself staring directly into his.

Those eyes which had haunted my dreams unmercifully, unforgettably -
overwhelming, powerful dreams that should have left me disgusted,
guilty and ashamed, because Harry Potter is not supposed to be
haunted.

Not by these eyes.

But instead they just woke me, sweaty and breathless, between my damp
sheets at any impossible hour of the night,; scared and excited, with
a pounding heart and desire that went far beyond anything I had ever
known.

Those dreams were about the most beautiful creature I had ever laid
eyes upon, with his Greek sculpture sort of face and body;
unaccountably timeless, with this halo of moonstone coloured hair and
movements fluid and graceful like a feline.

But the most amazing thing about him were those eyes; unfathomable
underwater eyes - the blue and black of wet mussel shells so
magnificent, standing out against the liquorice darkness of my room,
only in competition with his hair, which had been magicked to an
unworldly silver by the frosted light the moon cast through the
windows.

His scent filled the air, pouring over me and sending my brain
whirling immediately; that smell of sweet, hot sin,- deep and
sensual, combined with the fact that I could feel his arousal
pressing against me, tearing another sharp gasp from my throat, only
to be muffled by the first kiss he ever gave me.

He didn`t even wait for me to fully wake up. He just took my face in
both his hands and pressed his lips to mine; insistent, full, soft,
parted lips. And he knew I wanted it; had always known.
His hot glowing tongue found its way between my shocked lips as if he
had done it before, as if he had waited all his life and as the kiss
deepened it became so incredibly hungry...I realised that maybe he
had. The thought made sirens sound in my head, begging me to stop
this before it was too late, but my body betrayed me; my arms wound
themselves around his firm frame like an age-old reflex and my throat
gave a soft sensual sound of protest, as he released my mouth to look
at me for a split second. His face lit up with need, sending another
shiver of arousal through me before he kissed me again as if his life
depended on it.

I was scared, terrified.

Not of him, but of me — of what I could be.

Of what I longed to be so badly that it was splitting me in half.

He sensed my inner struggle even above the incoherent moans his
actions tore from my mouth and stopped again, his breathing
increased, his hands rubbing circles on my chest, his whisper hot
next to my ear, his voice and caresses drawing the last piece of
sanity from me, poisoning me with its sugar-coated venom.

"Or do you want to keep it the way it was, being the good little hero
till you`re grey and bitter? I don`t think that`s enough for you..."

And it wasn`t enough...had never been enough...

They had warned me about this, him, but I had always guessed that
this safe black-and-white life I lived was not even close to enough.

There was something missing.

Something a lot bigger than this.

My heart had been dynamite aching for a spark. Call it delusion of
the highest adolescent order, but I was sure that this was it...

It seemed like he had known years before me, while I had been naively
unaware. I was not ready yet for the intensity of this, but he let
his qualities glitter for me, until he was bright in my head every
waking minute of my life.

And I realised that I was finally living up to my rumours, losing my
mind with breakneck speed, as I understood he had been only waiting
for that day to come, where I was ready to shed my boy skin and
become a man.

That day I awoke, I ran into him like I had done so many times
before.

He was coming inside from the pouring rain. He had been flying until
he was caked with dirt and soaked to the skin with black mud and
grass smeared across every bare part of his body. His clothes were
encrusted with soil, and his hair dyed chocolate and plastered to his
beautiful head.

He was the image of perfection.

And I had wanted him right there and then, till he was inside of my
pores... *I* wanted to be the object of his passion. Not just the
thrill he got from beating and humiliating me.

*I*. *Me* - my Body-Me and my Heart-and-Soul-Me.

His eyes had been blazing at me with something primal, under eyebrows
that trailed cobwebs - I had been drunk with the pull of his dark
danger, had wanted to experience him and I didn`t give a fucking damn
about the consequences.

And then he was there; ready to give to me until I was screaming for
more.

I didn`t think...I couldn`t talk. I was speechless with curiousity,
ready for everything, everything he had to offer.

I gave in, dived right into the darkness and kissed him back with all
my passion, prepared to go all the way and witness it all go wrong.

I had never felt so full. His tongue was soft and hot against mine
and he tasted like warm syrup, and then it was him who gave a
startled sound as I took control of the kiss. Suddenly his hands were
everywhere, sending jolts and tremors through me, filling the air
that surrounded us with hot, intense moans, ripping open my shirt
with an impatience that spoke of a yearning so deep that it shocked
me again.

And then he spoke. I hadn`t expected him to, god, and certainly not
like this, but speak he did, and his words burnt inside me, touched
me like an invisible black spell.

"You`re my counterpart." he whispered, before he dived in for another
soul-searing kiss. "You're day, where I'm night."

I was losing my mind.

I knew it. This was nothing but the hallucination of a fucking
lunatic.

"You`re burning...inside...where I`m freezing".

"No...no, I've never burnt in my whole life. Make me, make me
burn..."

And he did...

I closed my eyes as I felt his lips trail softly over my body. I
moaned his name. I was burning, arching into his hands he ran down my
chest wonderingly, followed by his eyes.

I knew what he was looking at.

We looked beautiful together, so simple, so different and yet so
complete.

Like mocha and milk.

Olive and pastel.

I was choking back mindless, endless cries, when his naked front
collided with mine as he pulled me to him hotly again, closer even
than the moment before, longing for more, more, more of this.

I responded to every move he made, sucking his tongue in my mouth and
pressing my body against his; desperate to get as much as possible
from him before one of us would come to our senses.

I was losing my mind.

I had longed so badly to lose my heart to someone, and then and there
I was about to lose my mind.

I had always believed that one day love would break the spell that
had kept me waiting, waiting for something I didn't understand - and
then and there it was about to break my world.

I knew I should have escaped from him,; fight him as long as I was
still able to before my soul was his...but it was too late, much too
late.

That night I would have given everything I had believed in,
everything that defined me for one moment where I was completely
his...

"Draco...", I moaned, saying his name again, savouring the way it
felt, how it sent my tongue dancing round of my mouth. "I want you...
I want you, inside."

I was desperate to be like he wanted me to be- even if I was
destroying myself.

I wanted... I *needed* him.

"Yes...yes...", he answered, hoarse with lust, as his hands and mouth
took inventory of my oversensitised body once again, while I was
lying in the dark and yearning for him to wrap me in his shadow for
good and re-create, re-invent, re-define me.

For him to fuck me until I forgot which way was up.

We both were on fire.

He touched me, my face, my body...

I closed my eyes while he tasted me, licked my throat...

I remember the hot nudge of his tongue against my ribs, my belly, all
the while caressing me with his burning hands...

My head was spinning, spinning like crazy and I don't think the moans
that broke loose from deep, deep inside of me ever reached my throat.

I wasn't afraid of him, not for one moment. I was only afraid that I
might die from pleasure before I could feel him wholly.

His soft feverish lips trailed across my heaving chest and my hands
sought for him, any part of him, and found his hand and I kissed it
from finger to wrist,- licked the palm and sucked each digit, before
pulling him up in my arms again, throwing his body against mine.

I don't know how we got there, but we must have been naked by then
because I remember him hard against my own aching arousal, and I
remember that my trembling fingers clutched the thick curtain of his
hair hard and that I touched and kissed every part of him that I
could reach.

His skin felt softer than crushed rose petals to me, and he tasted
more exquisite than anything, his sweat sweeter than peach juice, and
I knew that I was falling hopelessly in love with him.

"Lead me. Protect me," I whispered.

And then he was inside.

First his fingers, gently probing, encouraged by my deep moans and
then he was inside completely.

Maybe there was pain, but it was not important. Pain was drowned out
by the wave of other sensations that crushed over me and by my need
to have him there where he belonged.

I took his face in both my hands and held it close to mine the moment
he slipped inside of me.

I had to close my eyes for a second as the intensity of the moment
seemed to overwhelm me. He was inside of me in every way. His whole
being was swallowed by me. But I wanted to see him so I opened them
wide again and saw how he looked at me with the same wonder in his
eyes.

He was beautiful, so beautiful.

A starchild with the eyes of the night - dangerous mirror eyes with a
surface of quicksilver that hid tunnels, winding stairs and mirror
mazes; labyrinths that led to no recognisable place.

"You're mine. Only mine." He said, almost brutally, as he started to
move inside of me, his voice rough yet sweet, honey-salted with the
accent of desire.

I lost myself. I found myself.

He was the wonder that reconciled me with reality.

I preferred *this* to reality. I chose his appearances and abysms
over *every* reality.

I was no hero.

I tumbled and failed and enjoyed every second of it.

I didn't want to save the world.

I wanted the boy.

"Nothing can keep us apart. Nothing. No-one."

We both knew it was lie, but it was a beautiful, necessary lie.

Truth could wait till dawn.

That night chaos was our hope.

We moved and rocked together, agonizingly slow and tender and quiet,
apart from my small cries and his desperate moans.

He did not lose sight of my face for a second, his eyes penetrating
me to the very core, his breath over my flushed, hot face.

His eyes rolled back in his head and they fluttered shut for a second
as his rhythm grew more desperate, and I kissed the conch-shell curve
of his closed eyelids, the predatory shape of his cheekbone and every
other part of his face as I pressed myself against him as close as
humanly possible...

And then the universe narrowed to his black and blue eyes, wide and
glossy in the moonlight, bright as ice, hot as molten silver, his
damp blond fringe brushing my face like a caress as he bent down in
an attempt to capture my lips, thwarted by our need to draw in great
aching lungfuls of air whilst stars exploded behind my eyes, sparks
setting me on fire and I burnt.

For the first time in my life I burnt brighter than blazing flames,
as I spiraled towards eternity, falling, long and hard, before I
crumbled into ashes, shattering into a million pieces as my orgasm
hit me like a torrential, delightful cloudburst that put out all the
fire, wrapped, surrounded and filled by him in every possible way.

And I could only watch, through this starry haze how he came as well,
my name on his lips, a soft, sure hum vibrating in his throat that
grew louder and finally slipped over his tongue in a choked cry.

I held him, hugged him close until his shudders ceased.
His eyes were flirting with fear as he slowly fell back to reality,
but I ignored it and closed mine.

I didn't want the moment to end, didn't want to face everything that
went beyond it.
Not then.

Not ever.

I wanted to stay there in that moment of post passion simplicity, of
raw emotion, where I felt his breath damp against the curve of my
neck, where he lay on top of me spent and hot and sticky and mine,
where our hands joined again in the dark, a gentle lover's gesture.

We knew we couldn't.

But we could pretend we could. We could pretend the curtain was going
to close on a kiss and night would camouflage our denial forever.


THE END