On A Night Like This

A massive thank you to Dorothea Greengrass once again, massive help on editing here.

Two-Shot

Harry/Daphne

They had come to an agreement, much quicker than he had thought possible.

Silence settled down on the Room of Requirement.

The raven haired young man and the blonde young woman sat leaned against opposite walls of the room, regarding each other with calculating looks as they each pondered what they had just agreed to do.

Internal laughter shook the young man. How had he found himself here, in this surreal situation? Things like this happened in trash novels, the kind with colourful covers of scantily clad, blonde girls clinging to broad chested and shirtless dark heroes. It was nothing that happened in real life. It was nothing that ever would happen to him.

Or so he'd thought.

The eager flutter of his stomach brought him back to reality, there was no denying he was excited about the coming event; his body betrayed that notion straight away.

The young woman moistened her lips with a flick of her tongue, she lowered her eyelids and gave him a suggestive look. Sweet Merlin, yes, she was looking forward to it just as much as he did.

And who would blame him for his anticipation? His eyes trailed to the collar of her shirt, she was a respectable Pureblood woman, so the top button was closed, emphasising the long, pale column of her throat. The tip of his tongue darted out and moistened his lips. It was there for him for the taking. His gaze travelled downward, to the gentle swell of her breasts that were hidden from view by her shirt and pale grey jumper. She wasn't big in the chest, she had the slender frame of a dancer, with long arms and legs. Well, he'd never understood his roommates' obsession with big chests, she stood out from the other girls at this school, delicate and elegant like a piece of art, someone special for him to discover. His gaze wandered further down, to her modest skirt that covered her knees, yet her long, slender legs were something he could stare at all day long.

Merlin, how he had stared at them! In Potions and D.A.D.A, whenever she wasn't looking. His stomach fluttered again, almost painful. He was done with staring, her legs were something he couldn't wait to taste, he couldn't wait to kiss his way up the insides of her thighs, up to… His manhood strained against the fabric of his trousers and made them uncomfortably tight. He shifted to get some space.

Not even an hour ago he'd collided with this girl in the corridor outside of the Room of Requirement. She'd covered her face with her hands and didn't heed where she was running as she'd bumped into him. His first gut-reaction had been anger, he'd come up to the seventh floor to find some space after Dumbledore's funeral, some peace before the world collapsed around him. So, why couldn't those bloody Slytherins leave him alone?

The impact of their collision had threatened to throw him back on his behind, and he'd steadied himself with a hard grip of his hands on her shoulders, a rude swear word on his lips.

It never left his mouth when she lowered her hands and raised her head. Tears streamed from her red-rimmed eyes down her cheeks, and her mouth quivered. 'S-sorry, P-potter,' she had said.

That had done it. The slight hiccup in her sweet voice, her desperate, hopeless undertone, had hit him like a Bludger in the guts. He never had had any dealings with her in the past, save the odd lesson together, and his discrete stares, of course. Seeing her like this, her famed composure gone and the vulnerable young woman bare without the layers of genteel comportment, had struck a chord deep inside of him. Without another word he had offered his hand to pull her into the room with him, and she had asked no questions about the room or how he knew of it.

Her cheeks flushed under his gaze. "See something you fancy?" Her voice was short of breath, the modest v-neck of her sweater moved up and down under her increased breathing, and she stroked one arm with her hand. The tell-tale signs of excitement, if the sex magazines he'd found under Dudley's mattress when Aunt Petunia had forced him to clean the baby whale's room were a trustworthy source of education.

Her pale blue eyes, still red from the tears, blazed at him.

The rise and fall of his chest grew faster with each pulse under her heated stare. Yet he hadn't forgotten why they were about to do this in his hormone induced haze.

'I've got to marry a Death Eater.'

Lust and anger pulsed within him all at the once, fuelling his desire even further as he pulled himself up from the wall a little further and leaned forward.

She swallowed at his actions.

"You," he all but growled.

She sat up further and her heated gaze intensified.

The tension between them thickened, came to a boil under their intense stares, and threatened to overflow.

She leaned forward and gave him a good view on her beautiful face. "Well then, Potter, come and fucking do something about that."

That was it. Someone as proper as her swearing? Damn it all.

He pushed himself up to his feet.

She mirrored his action. Her tongue flicked out again, her moist lips parted, inviting him.

The walls of his self-restrain crumbled, he crossed the distance between them with two long strides, grabbed her by the waist and pushed her against the wall. The next moment his lips crashed against hers, an exquisite electric jolt raced through his body as the dam of his self-control well and truly burst.

Her hands roamed everywhere and explored his slender but firm frame as his strong arms pressed her against his broad chest. His hands ran down her sides with a gentle squeeze that set her nerve ends on fire. Her heart hammered against her ribcage, her own heavy breathing thundered in her ears through their heated kiss.

How unlike her this was!

Her hand latched into his hair and tugged ever so slightly. His answering growl fuelled the fire that threatened to consume her.

He grinded his hips against hers, his arousal pressed against her pelvis, and an almost painful sweet pull spread out in her abdomen and made the secret spot between her legs throb. She'd been courted before or there had at least been attempts, following the Pureblood traditions she so despised, so sampling the goods without a firm betrothal contract in place was unthinkable. The only kisses she knew were respectful kisses on her knuckles. Never before had a man kissed her like this, never before had a man shown her his desire this openly.

Never before had she been this alive. She gasped against his lips.

He took the advantage of this and deepened their kiss, his hands caressed her waist, and his urgency seemed to increase, much like her own. She reached for any part of him that she could, squeezing and rubbing as her lust threatened to overtake her. She gave in to the passion and moved her hips against him, to Hades with Pureblood self control!

"I thought you'd never kissed before." He panted against her lips.

She stiffened, did he take her for a get around? She gave him her best indignant stare, although every fiber of her body screamed for him to kiss her again.

"I haven't." Damn, her breathless voice lacked the coolness necessary for delivering a scathing reply.

He raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Could've fooled me."

His look touched a nerve inside of her, heat flushed through her body, and her hands clenched into fists. Should she murder him or throw him on the nearest surface and have her wicked way with him?

The smirk intensified, his amazing eyes laughed at her with gentle mockery.

That was enough.

Daphne snarled. "Fuck off, Potter!" She took a fistful of his collar and crashed her lips against his.

She kissed him again, this time even harder. How had she gone from crying her eyes out to snogging and grinding against him like a savage animal within an hour? Then again, anyone was better than the man her father had been forced to accept as her groom. How that cad had boasted in the Slytherin common room what he'd do with her on their wedding night -.

No, she'd better not think of that, she'd better relish the moment, pretend she was with someone who truly cared for her, and make sure the scumbag who was going to be her husband wouldn't get the satisfaction to take her virginity. She pulled away from Harry. "I'm just going with it, this might be the only time I am in control. Can you blame me for that?"

His features softened, he looked deep into her eyes, his hands rested on either side of her neck, and he touched her neck with tender strokes of his thumbs.

"Might want to refer to me as Harry then, Daphne." His tone was soft and gentle, like the touches on her neck, and there was nothing but understanding in the smile he gave her.

A wave of comfort washed over her. She edged forward, as if pulled by a magnet, until their lips met again, gentle this time, almost loving. His response was soft, his tongue caressed her lips in a way that made her legs quiver, her arms snaked around his neck on their own accord, she drew him further against her, and their kiss deepened.

A small, content sigh escaped her. This was how she had always imagined her first time, passionate and gentle.

His hands slipped down her back and rested on her behind with a gentle squeeze.

Her heart skipped a beat, and she froze. No man had ever touched her there. It took all of her self control not to flinch and shy away. She'd always imagined her first time to be with a man she loved, not out of a desperate need to take control of her life. When she'd asked Harry Potter to sleep with her, she had half expected him to tear her clothes off and have at it. Yet he had surprised her, he'd been passionate, tender, and understanding, as if he read her tension and fear and did everything he could to help her and make it easy on her.

His hands caressing her behind did wonderous things to her insides. Spurred on by his wandering hands she reached for the hem of his shirt, pulled it from his trousers and snaked her hand up across his stomach.

He hissed as she touched his bare skin.

A wave of warmth rushed through her body, and she smiled against his lips. Who would've thought she could give him as much pleasure as he gave her, as inexperienced as she was? Thus emboldened, her hand explored what was underneath his shirt.

The feel of abdominal muscles was evident, not heavily defined but not absent either.

Her actions seemed to spur him on further, his lips ceased their assault on her own, drifted down her jaw and followed her neck with gentle tugs on her skin.

Her lips parted in a soft moan, her other hand slid up into his hair and she held his head firmly at her throat. His ministrations there caused her stomach to jolt with excitement. Was this really happening?

Her breath was heavy as she pressed the side of her head to his own. Her hand explored his stomach, her desire increased with each muscle she caressed.

His hands flew up to her collar, his fumbling fingers opened the top few bottoms of her shirt and grazed the soft flesh of her lower neck and collar bone. His lips followed his hands, she shivered and a low moan of delight escaped her lips.

He seemed to want to taste every inch of her skin, and wherever he placed his lips, her skin burnt with a fire only he could extinguish. He reached the base of her neck and moved across her collarbone

She let out another pleasured moan, and her breathing became even more erratic. His lips delved lower, and something inside her snapped. She slid her hands across his chest until she found the buttons of his shirt, and growled in frustration when the small buttons withstood her fumbling fingers. She pulled hard, her lust filled mind gave her unknown strength, her hands pulled the fabric open, and the pattering noise of buttons hitting stone filled the room, together with Harry's low chuckles.

"Impatient, aren't we?"

It was like in some cheesy romance scene from a book. She didn't care, she pushed the shirt over his shoulders and down until his upper body was bare, then pulled away from him for a moment, and let her eyes roam over his chest.

"I owe Tracey a few gold pieces." Quidditch had done him well, he was slender and firm, not overly muscular, yet with clearly defined abdominals. He was everything she had dreamed he would be when she admired him from afar during the few lessons they shared. Not that she would ever admit to that aloud, but there was something about Harry Potter that had drawn her in since she'd seen him first during the Sorting in their first year, maybe his vivid eyes that always betrayed his emotions, or his shy, sweet smile…

He looked as if he was about to query her words, but she did not allow the question to slip from his lips, she had better things to do right now than answering questions. The sight of his shirtless chest made the heat pool in her stomach, and she almost salivated. Sweet Morgana, they were really about to do it! The need to touch him became overwhelming. Together they collided, her hands roamed his upper body, their lips were engaged in a brutal exchange, like lovers who greeted war the next day. Her shirt buttons loosened off lower and lower, his hips pressed against her, and her shirt hiked up. The fabric surrounding her body was tight, too tight. It needed to be removed. Gods, she wanted it removed.

He growled against her lips as he finally freed the last button, then ripped the offending fabric free from her body. She was only wearing a plain lace white bra, one strap had slipped down her shoulder.

He took in a sharp breath.

The low noise somewhat brought her back to her senses. She paused, her stomach afire with nerves.What was she doing here? Was she really going to sleep with Harry Potter to get back at the men who'd decided over her life without as much as a 'do you mind?' It went against everything she'd been taught.

The memory of pale grey eyes undressing her in the middle of the common room, the trademark sneer on his face that gullible girls like her sister thought handsome flashed through her mind. Heat flooded her system, and she gritted her teeth. They'd made her a plaything, and she wouldn't stand it, she wouldn't come to the bridal bed like a sheep for slaughter, ready to sacrifice her virginity to that egotistical brat who would humiliate her to maintain his dominance.

No, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction to be her first, and she deserved her first time to be about at least mutual passion.

Her mind made up, her hands reached back behind her, and moments later the material went slack against his chest.

This was it, the point of no return, now they couldn't stop if they wanted to.

His hands flew to her legs and moved upwards, sliding her skirt up so that it bunched up about her hips. A small chuckle escaped her. So he wasn't a chest man? He'd not once looked at her breasts yet, he seemed to be more fascinated with her legs and behind. Her bra, forgotten, fell to the floor, her breasts pressed against his bare chest, and a low moan of delight slipped from both their lips. How could something so simple feel so good? His rough hands slid up her thighs, she used the wall for leverage and wrapped her legs around his waist. His evident arousal was pressed up against her, though blocked by her underwear and his trousers. The thin fabric of her knickers was moist and clung to her most intimate spot as they continued their primal movements against one another.

Little jolts of erotic energy surged from her nether regions as he ground against her in a tantalising slow, but firm motion, her hands ran down his front, her fingers dragged along the muscle there down to his belt. Their tight embrace left her little room, yet she managed to release the buckle, how she managed such a feat between her inexperience, his thrusts and lips on her neck was beyond her. By virtue of his movements, the fabric of his trousers slipped down his thighs.

Their most intimate of areas were only separated by the thin confines of their underwear. She breathed hard, and as his length grazed a certain point at the apex of that part, a little moan escaped her lips, and she smiled in triumph. Oh how the purebloods would cry outrage that someone of her lineage would bed a filthy half blood, only blood traitors did such a thing.

Fuck them! She hated the very notion of the status quo, if anything, she was about to be bedded by the worst of those half bloods as those bigots called him. She cried out again as he touched the sensitive spot in just the right way once again, and she buried her face into his neck.

His laboured breath thundered in her ear, his confined member brushed against her again, and the realisation of what was about to happen sunk in. Was she sure about this? Would she regret it? This was the first time she was going to have sex, this was a huge life moment that she would only get once, would it hurt?

Harry removed his lips from her neck and looked at her, that soft expression from earlier back again. There was no deception behind those beautiful green eyes, only concern and even a little bit of apprehension. Had she tensed up without realising it? Had he somehow sensed it through his lust-filled daze? Her heart made a somersault. How many men in his place would have stopped in reaching their pleasure to make sure she was alright? The back of her throat ached, and she swallowed.

One arm still around her waist in a firm grip, he brought up one hand and cupped her cheek. His thumb caressing her cheek was almost her undoing. They hardly knew each other, their union was supposed to be a purely physical thing, yet he treated her with a tenderness and respect as if she was precious to him.

"Are you ok? I know this is a big deal, I understand if you are having second thoughts … I'm nervous myself"

She responded to his light chuckle with one of her own. He wasn't like most Slytherins thought him to be, in the short hour they had spent together he'd shown her his caring and noble side, but there was also a feeling of resignation behind his words and looks, like he thought every moment would be a last one.

"I am, it's just not how I imagined my first time to be, I've grown up thinking my first time would be on my wedding night. Now if that happened it would be with that death eater bastard who won't give a toss .." She stopped, she'd better not think about that right now.

A dark flicker crossed his face, even though he still looked at her, his eyes had a faraway expression. "Same," was all he said..

Daphne cocked her head to her side. What was that about? Would he elaborate his feelings some more? She held her breath.

The faraway expression vanished as he looked down at her with another soft smile, his attention was back on her, whatever had haunted him only seconds ago.

"Then, love me for tonight. Pretend I'm someone else if you need to." Her heart hammered in her chest, she hated how vulnerable her voice sounded.

He leaned forward and captured her lips in a gentle kiss. It seemed to linger on for an eternity, and with her eyes closed it was like being kissed by a loving groom. She trembled and almost whimpered when he pulled back.

Again, he caressed her cheek with a tenderness that made her knees weak. "I don't want to pretend you're someone else, I think we both deserve better than that. Let's pretend we're in love with each other and agreed to take the next step, it's an experience we were both denied, so we'll have to make up for that as good as we can."

Instead of an answer, she grabbed the back of his head and pulled him into a heated kiss. Virgin bride she would not be for that sadistic bastard who'd forced her into that despicable contract. No, tonight she'd give her virginity willingly to the man in her arms, a man who treated her as tenderly and passionately every girl should be treated on her first time.

She reached her hand low and grasped him for the first time.

He startled as if a jolt of electricity had hit him. "Gods, Daph!" He panted against her neck. "That's not … fair at all"

Warmth radiated through her body, a grin she couldn't contain spread across her face. She had the power to give him the same pleasure he gave her. How wonderful he felt in her hand! She had no frame of reference of course, but what was resting in her palm, twitching ever so slightly, was more than enough. The boys in their year weren't quiet when boasting about their sizes, though one had to read between the lines to find the truth. Malfoy and Nott boasted about being large, when in truth Pansy outed their disappointing appendages more than once. Another point where Harry leads the everlasting competition by… well… length.

Her grin became wicked, and she slowly and gently moved her hand up and down.

That elicited another hiss from him.

She salivated and gulped, the throbbing between her legs became unbearable and ached for relief. "You can touch as well," she muttered in his ear in a husky voice.

He wasted no time after that offer, his fingers extended under her skirt, hooked into the waistline of their knickers, and pulled them down in one swift move. His right hand slipped to her inner thigh and travelled up with tantalising sweet slowness.

Daphne arched her back and let out a groan of impatience. "Just touch me, please," she all but begged. Her hand movements had lost all coordination under the pleasure he gave her.

"As my lady wishes," he whispered in her ear with an audible smirk in his voice. Bastard! She trembled as his fingers continued their slow travel up her thighs towards the centre of her legs, until the hand of a man touched the soft and silky folds of her womanhood for the very first time. She tensed, her thighs quivered and clamped together, pressing his hand to her.

Harry cupped her cheek and locked his eyes with hers. He had next to no experience, yet by her flushed skin and the way she exposed her neck to him, his instinct told him she was as mad with lust as he was. Still, there was a touch of vulnerability behind her lidded eyes. It was her first time, and he would treat her as she deserved, no matter why they did this. He had a hard time to remember how they'd come to this point, Merlin, he had a hard time to string together a coherent thought at all. "You alright?"

She lowered her gaze, a flicker of emotion danced across her face, yet her breathing grew calmer, and she didn't pull away. The pair stood pressed together, her modest breasts pillowed against his chest, her hand gripping his modesty whilst his own was held tightly between her thighs. She raised her eyes to his again, it was as if she were studying him, and her brows creased as if in confusion. What kind of men had she grown up around for her to be so surprised by his concern?

"You are… different, Harry Potter"

What did she mean by that?

She leaned forward and captured his lips in a gentle kiss. All questions flew right out of his head as she parted her legs and freed his once trapped hand. He returned her kiss, soft and gentle at first, then with mounting passion, and caressed her centre with his fingers. Each stroke he made, each sigh he got in response taught him more about what she liked.

Daphne wasn't passive either, her gentle touches and movements on his manhood caused the blood rushing in his ears and his breathing to increase. Merlin, how was he supposed to keep himself in control when she teased him like this?

Her whole body buckled and coiled, along with a sensual groan, whenever his fingers reached the apex of her folds. There was something round and firm there, he pushed the little knob with his index finger and got a sharp hiss and a groan in return. Had he hurt her? He chanced a glance at her face.

She had her eyes closed and her head tilted back, the wonderful column of her throat exposed, and rubbed herself shamelessly against his hand.

Harry smirked, so he had the power to make Daphne Greengrass let go all of her famed self control? He'd be happy to help her over the edge. He buried his face at her throat and caressed the pale skin with his tongue, while his fingers increased their ministrations.

She had to be close, her womanhood was hot and slick against his hand, her groans increased, and her hips thrusted down on his hand with an eagerness that would probably put the crimson of mortification on her cheeks, had she realised what she was doing.

He raised his head, he didn't want to miss the moment when she came apart by the ministrations of a man's hand for the very first time. Her hand fondling his length of hard flesh almost was his undoing. He gritted his teeth and fought for control. Soon, very soon, there would be time enough for his pleasure tonight. This time was all about her and her pleasure, and Merlin knew he'd do everything in his might to make the moment memorable for her.

Daphne's whole body shook in his arms, her centre seemed to burn against his hand, her folds fluttering and throbbing, as she threw back her head and cried in ecstasy. Her cry turned into a long, sensual groan, she thrust herself against him even harder, and he continued his ministrations until her thighs pressed together and caught his hand once more, and she sagged against him with a content sigh, her breath ragged against his chest.

He pressed a kiss into her hair. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. "I did something right then?"

She gave a breathless laugh and rested her head on his shoulder. "Most definitely so."

She raised her head, her lips parted in an invitation he couldn't resist. The kiss, laced with the afterglow of her climax, lasted like an eternity, yet was over much too soon. Her eyelids fluttered open, the tip of her pink tongue flicked across her swollen lips like the tongue of a cat that had tasted cream for the first time and wanted more.

A hot wave rushed through his body at the look she gave him from behind her eyelashes. This wasn't over yet, she definitely wanted more. However, it wouldn't hurt to get more comfortable.

He closed his eyes and willed the bland stone square to turn into a small bedroom. A huge four poster bed with drapes of shimmering white silk and matching silken bed sheets took up most of the space. The floor was covered with soft rugs.

"Hold on." Harry lifted her up and carried her towards the bed.

Daphne's legs came up and wrapped around his waist.

Harry's manhood glided against her femininity, and they both took a sharp breath.

Daphne looked at the room over his shoulder, and her eyes became wide. "How did you do that?"

"Magic." He grinned, and got a light slap in return, followed by a kiss that made his stomach flutter.

He lowered her onto the bed; there was even a smattering of rose petals across the cushions and the linens.

Daphne smirked up at him. "You're doing very well on the romance part."

"I aim to please."

"Oh, you do, Harry, you do." She beckoned him with her finger to join her on the bed.

That was all the invitation he needed, however, there was one thing still to be done. He bent down and pulled her skirt away, leaving her completely naked on the comfortable silk sheets.

Daphne eyed his trousers, half pooled around his knees, and his boxer shorts all askew from her meddling, rose to her knees and pulled down his underwear. She motioned to the untidy heap around his feet. "What are you waiting for?"

He shook off the offending garments.

The young couple remained like that for a moment, her kneeling at the edge of the bed and him standing before her. An expression of unease flickered across Daphne's face, her cheeks pinked, and her arms twitched as if she was going to cover her womanhood and breasts.

His hands flew out and restrained them. "Don't cover yourself, you are beautiful, Daphne."

She blushed even more at those words, but maintained eye contact with him as he took in every inch of her naked body. She was everything he had ever dreamed of, and so much more.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are, love." The endearment slipped off his tongue as if he'd said it to her a hundred times before. Harry stepped forward, placed one knee on the bed, and cupped her face with his hand. He inched forward, lowered his lips on hers, and worshipped her mouth with his tongue in a long, languid kiss.

She sighed against his lips and explored his body with her hands.

Harry's hands were not idle, either, he reached low and caressed her backside, and Daphne pressed herself against him, his manhood trapped between their bodies. His other hand trailed down to her breast, and he flicked his thumb over her erect nipple.

Daphne arched her back with a sensual groan, her kisses became demanding and heated, and she rubbed her hips against him.

Even as inexperienced as he was, Harry understood her meaning. He pushed her down onto the bed, she opened her legs, and his body settled over hers.. She arched her back, her wet heat slid against his length, and he groaned. He had not penetrated her yet, but their grinding alone threatened to bring him over the edge. His hand at her backside squeezed and stroked the soft but firm flesh, whilst his fingers at her breast rolled over the hardened nub there. In a haze of lust his own lips left hers and trailed down her throat and chest. Her heavy breaths urged him on, her hips rolled against him and drove him insane. His lips reached her breast, he took one nipple into his mouth and circled it with his tongue.

Daphne let out a loud moan of delight. She grinded herself against him, hot and wet, and he clenched his teeth, or this would be over much too soon.

She reached between them, took his length, and pressed it against her entrance. Oh yes, her body was ready for him. But was she?

He raised his head from her breast and rested his forehead against hers. Green eyes met blue, and an unspoken understanding passed through them. He captured her lips in another deep kiss as he lowered himself into her. Daphne moaned into his mouth, there was no resistance until he met a barrier, he pushed and was through before his brain realised what he had done.

Daphne let out a sharp hiss of pain, and he froze. Had he hurt her? He was not unaware of a girl's plight during their first time, bleeding and pain was common, Hermione had said, and Lavender had complained that most boys inexperience made the whole process that much worse. He'd made a silent vow that he at least would be passable on his first try. Well, it seemed he'd bollixed that one up.

He raised his head and looked at her. Surely she'd push him away, and he moved to slide out of her.

She fitted him with a firm glare and wrapped her legs around his hips, holding him in place.

"Just give me a moment," she muttered.

So, he did.

He held himself still whilst the girl beneath him took steady breaths, his manhood half buried within her, wet and warm, and causing his being to shake with desire. Daphne moved beneath him, rolled her hips and took more of his length into her.

His eyes rolled back as he buried his length in her up to the hilt, she was delightfully tight and warm, and the squeezing of her inner muscles threatened to break the little self control he had left. She slipped her arms around his back, her nails moved along his muscle, and he shuddered in her arms. Her eyes opened and locked with his own, her movements became bolder as the seconds eased by. He had yet to move, she had to give her permission first.

She leaned up, her lips gazed against his. "Love me tonight, for it might be the only time someone does."

He tightened his arms around her, his heart hammered in his chest. She was his, he'd give her what she desired. His reasoning for doing this was basic. He might be dead tomorrow, next week, a month or even a year from now. If that came to pass, then her life would be reduced to nothing but a showpiece, a prize claimed by those unworthy.

He moved with her, their thrusts met in the middle, she cried out in gentle bliss whilst his own breaths became laboured. He found a particular angle and had her receptive, her movements becoming errant with each stroke.

His hands caressed her neck, shoulders, back, breasts and bottom, and she writhed with ecstasy beneath him. Her legs quivered and her hips shook, the next moment she convulsed beneath him. She called out his name, her hand fisted in his hair, and she tightened her arms around him. At last he gave in to the pressure, his final thrust buried deep within her, and his own climax shot his seed deep inside of her. The next second he collapsed over her.

Daphne's heart raced as the waves of her climax ebbed away. Harry had buried his face into her shoulder, their limbs still entangled, and his ragged breath brushed over her skin.

So was this it? She closed her eyes and waited for him to pull out and get ready to leave, this was only meant to be a one night thing after all, right?

Her heart dropped at the thought. Why did the idea of him leaving her… hurt?

He stirred above her, and she schooled her features into the bland mask that had helped her to survive six years in Slytherin. She would not show him how humiliated she was when he treated her like a cheap lay.

The next moment his lips brushed hers, gentle and slow, and her stomach gave a small skip. His arms drifted along her sides and embraced her. Tears burned behind her closed eyelids. How could she ever have thought that Harry would leave the moment he had had his pleasure? He was the sweetest man she had ever met. Her one hand cupped his cheek and the other rested at the middle of his back as she returned his soft kisses that made her toes curl. If he carried on like this she might just melt right there.

"Thank you," he whispered as they finally broke apart, both breathless and flushed.

She raised an eyebrow. "I think the thanks is owed to you, Harry, I'll never forget this night. First times aren't normally pleasant for us girls, pair us with an inconsiderate boy and it can hurt a lot, so I am thankful my first time was with you."

She worried her lower lip with her teeth and waited for his reaction with bated breath. How would he take her admission? And why did she even care for his reaction? This was meant to be quick fling, why by the gods was his opinion of her important to her?

A mischievous grin appeared on his face. "So I met your expectations, Heiress Greengrass?"

She crossed her arms behind his neck and pulled him towards her until their foreheads touched. "You surpassed them, Mr Potter. I think just like on your broom you're a natural in the bedroom."

They both chuckled, their foreheads still touching. Oh, she could look into those beautiful green eyes all night long.

His mirth ebbed away, and that tender look appeared behind his eyes again and broke past her defenses. He lowered his head and kissed her, slow and tender.

She replied in kind. His kisses became more demanding. They were still joined at the hips, his manhood twitched inside of her, became bigger until he filled her completely. That now familiar heat pooled again in her stomach. She moved her hips, and as if he had only waited for that moment, he met her halfway. This time he made love to her gentle and tender, his slow, agonizing thrusts teased her in sweet torture until her body shook with desire and desperation. Her back arched high as an earth shattering climax rolled over her, and she let out a loud scream.

She was still catching her breath when Harry moved off her and rolled to the side, pulling her with him. "Maybe I should ask the room to be soundproof next time," he whispered into her ear.

Heat shot into her cheeks, yet she was still too winded to talk, so all she could do was send him a withering look.

He chuckled and adjusted her head at his shoulder, one hand in her hair and caressing her scalp.

For a while they were silent and basked in the glow of their love making.

A thousand thoughts ran through Daphne's mind. How was she supposed to go on from here? She had asked Harry to be her first in a fit of rage and rebellion against Pureblood politics that forced her to marry a despicable man in exchange for the safety of her family. This night didn't change her fate, Lucius Malfoy was still out there, backed up by his horrendous sister in law, and out for the Greengrass seat on the Wizengamot and – even more important – the vast Greengrass fortune. Whatever he had used to blackmail her father into agreeing to marry her off to Lucius' little shit of a son, it had to be huge, her father wasn't intimidated that easily.

The tip of her index finger drew small circles on Harry's chest. If only she hadn't made love to him, now she knew how being loved by a decent man felt like, Malfoy's touches would be unbearable after that.

"So, Malfoy, uh? Is your father friends with his father to pick him for you?"

Obviously Harry's thought had followed the same path as hers.

She gave a derisive snort. "My father would rather bite his tongue off than calling Lucius Malfoy his friend. I don't know for sure what went on between them, but I know that Malfoy senior threatened my father if he didn't sign the contract. Father had to agree to keep the family safe."

Harry's eyes darkened.

How much of his annoyance was owed to his feud with Malfoy? Or did he really care for her?

"And your feelings on this? Why do you go along with this plan?"

Daphne brought a hand to his face and locked eyes with him. 'It's not only my life that is at stake, Harry, it's my whole family. I am the heiress, the future head of House Greengrass, I've been raised to ulfil my duties and put the needs of the family before my own. Besides that, I love them, I can't let anything happen to them if it is in my might to prevent that. I can't run away, Harry."

He tightened his embrace around her and murmured to himself, "Maybe we are more alike than I thought."

Her heart skipped a beat. What did he mean by this? Was the Daily Prophet right that he was the Chosen One who had to put his life in the line to destroy that monster that terrorised their world?

Harry left her no time to dwell on that thought. "Yeah, I can get that. But why you, love? There must be dozens of Pureblood heiresses who would be glad to call themselves Mrs Draco Malfoy."

Her heart fluttered at the endearment. Could it be he really cared for her? Or was it just the intimacy they shared?

"Not as much as you might think, Harry, and none of the other available heiresses brings a hereditary seat on the Wizengamot and a huge fortune to the bargain. Not to mention the little shit has wanted me since third year. When he couldn't get what he wanted on his own merits, he ran to daddy, and daddy delivered, as always."

Harry grimaced at that. "When will you have to marry him?"

"When the war is over, the Dark Lord forbade any of his followers the right to marry or try for heirs, he has some kind of curse on them, if they try to break it they will suffer horrible ends, my father told me. Apparently it's to inspire his followers to win this war quickly, threatening a pureblood that their line will end with them is a great bargaining chip."

Harry nodded in understanding.

"The idea of belonging to Malfoy sickens me, but if I do have to, the moment he tries touching me I will hold this over him." She looked up at him, a feral grin on her lips. "I'll tell the ferret that I was shagged royally senseless by Harry Potter, and I loved every second of it."

Harry chuckled at that. "As much as I love the idea of Malfoy tearing his hair out that he has my seconds, won't that put you in danger? He would likely hurt you or worse."

Her heart hammered at that, again he was choosing concern for her over a victory of Malfoy. Why was she only talking to him now and not before?

"Well, if you win then I won't have to marry him."

"That's true"

She looked him in the eyes, she didn't want this to end tonight. She had gone soft, the manner in which he had made love to her was surely playing on her mind.

"Truth be told I'd rather he kill me in a fit of rage than have to allow that bastard inside of me. In the meantime… I'd not be objecting to more nights like this after the summer... If I something you'd be interested in." Gods, she sounded needy, yet she didn't know how she was going to cope without that kind of passion and tenderness without him.

His face dropped.

Her stomach sank, had she misread the signals he gave her?

"I won't be returning next year Daphne, there's something I need to do and I cannot be at Hogwarts for it." He tightened his arms around her as if he didn't want to let her go, and that faraway, forlorn expression appeared again in his eyes.

What was that about?

Then it snapped.

Her stomach sank, and she flung her hand in front of her mouth to suppress her gasp of horror.

He didn't expect to survive whatever he was about to do.

She cursed herself. No wonder he'd slept with her so willingly and did not question it, something within him thought this may be his only chance. A wave of heat shot through her body, and red spots distorted her vision. Oh no, she wouldn't allow him to give up, make himself a lamb for the slaughter. She'd give him something to live for.

She pushed herself up and straddled him, her hands splayed across his chest.

His eyes widened in alarm.

"Harry Potter, you listen to me! I have seen you overcome odds that frankly should not be possible for Auror's let alone teenage boys." She lowered herself closer to his face. "I don't know half of what is going on, but you better get out there and win, kill that bastard and come back to me!"

Heat shot in her face, she hadn't quite meant to be that passionate with her statement or mention that last part. It was out there now, time to own up to it.

"What we shared tonight was something special, it certainly went beyond the physical for me, and I'd like to find out what we can be. You win the war, kick the little ferret into the arse, and you have a very grateful and intimacy starved witch waiting. I like to think that's quite the incentive to win a war?" Would that give him the shot in the arm to rethink his survival stance?

He gaped.

"I didn't think… I thought you'd likely want to never speak of us again after tonight." A wry grin played around his mouth. "But what kind of man would I be if I didn't at least try? " He winked at her, the next second, however, his features evened out, and a serious look took over. "I prom…." He lowered his head.

Was he struggling to make a promise he thought he might not be able to keep? Her hand slipped to his cheek and she kissed him gently. Hopefully that would drive her point home.

He studied her, at last he gave her a nod in confirmation and understanding.

"I promise"

It was nearly four in the morning when she snuck back into her shared dorm with Tracey. She tiptoed to her bed, wincing slightly as she did so. Her sensitive parts were still tender from their last love making session after his promise.

"And where do you think you have been, young lady?"

Daphne closed her eyes. Busted!

"I went for a walk. " She turned around.

Tracey sat up on her bed and regarded her with a raised eyebrow.

"A walk ... " Her best friend dragged out the words, while she still studied her from top to toe. The next moment her eyes went wide and she let out a little squeal.

Daphne became cold inside. Oh no, she wasn't in the mood for the third degree from Tracey tonight. She'd rather curl up in her bed and replay their last time together, after his promise, when he had worshipped her body as if he wanted to commit each part of her to his memory for the time of their separation.

Tracey was oblivious to her mood. "Oh my god you got laid like I told you! Who was he? Was he big? Was he good? Did you come? Did yo-"

"Tracey!" She hissed. The dorms might be soundproof with charms, but she didn't need her best friend shouting from the rooftops what she had done tonight..

Tracey stopped, yet by the way she bounced on her bed and the flames of mischief dancing behind her eyes it was evident she was desperate for gossip.

"Come on, tell me anything, please!"

Daphne sighed in defeat and walked to Tracey's bed, wincing slightly as she went, which had Tracey giggle. She ignored her friend, flopped onto the bed, and looked up at the dorm room ceiling. All she could see were Harry's eyes as he kissed her goodbye under his amazing Invisibility Cloak in front of the entrance to the Slytherin common room. There had been a new fire in them. Was it determination to win the war and return to her? She surely hoped so..

"I'm still waiting, Daphne."

She let out a wistful sigh. "I didn't get laid Tracey, I was loved."

There was a pause.

"Oh sweet Morgana, you shagged Harry Potter didn't you?"

End of Part One

This fic is going to be one part of many short stories involving Harry/Daphne, part two is nearly finished.

If anyone wans to make any requests for the future one/two shots let me know, I have the next instalment in the works as well.