A/N: So here's a one-shot that came to me at work. I own very little in this. This scene is from a book I read and loved, all I've done is Harry-ed it up and brought it to you. If you like it and want to read the original the link in is my profile. Otherwise, sit back, relax, and enjoy!

Love always to Maley, my loyal editor!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

"This feels nice," she whispered over her shoulder.

"You feel pretty damn nice yourself." His breath came warm on her ear.

Then one of his hands shifted upward to caress the underside of her breast as his other palm slid low on her stomach, resting on the flat soft skin above her mound—and "nice" no longer described what was taking place. Biting her lip, she leaned back against him, realizing his cock was getting stiff against her back.

That's when the hand on her belly grazed lower, lower, cupping her through her skirt, and she literally pulsed at the possessive touch.

"Draco," she whispered.

"Yes, love?" His voice had gone gravely, sexy.

"What are you doing?"

"Touching you."

"But…" They were situated at the very corner of the tower's railing, and she glanced to either side. No one was looking at them, and the crowd atop the tower was small, yet despite the sense of solitude, they were hardly alone. "There are people here."

"They can't see where my hands are," he assured her, low and persuasive. "No one is paying any attention to us."

"Well, they might pay attention if I start moving against your hand." Her voice went lower now, too, breathy with the passion stealing through her. He molded her breast more fully now, and his erection grew harder and harder at her ass. Her body burned to thrust against his fingers.

She more heard than saw his heated expression in the dark as he lower his head to her ear and purred, "That's what I want, Gin. I want you to fuck my hand."

God, was he serious? "Here? Now? With people…"

"Mmm—hmm"

She didn't state the obvious. That she liked it in private. She knew they were both thinking that. And that this was him urging her to step out of her comfort zone and stop being ashamed of the fire inside of her. This was him urging her to let go; take a chance, the chance of getting caught.

She was always the feisty girl who could give it as well as she took. She'd hex anyone who gave her a hard time, but when it came to the bedroom… she was shy, cautious, and nervous. The thought of being caught, even by strangers, mortified her.

But, Draco's rigid cock stretching up the center of her ass felt too good to ignore. And now his hand was under her skirt, stroking her through her panties, rubbing her in just the right way and reminding her what an expert touch he possessed. Pleasure echoed through her, but at the same time, more beckoned—that overwhelming urge to grind against his fingers, to press back against his erection.

She looked again to the right, to the left. She saw people in shadow but not nearby. And it was dark—getting darker each minute now as the sky shimmered from a faded deep purple to black.

And as Draco pushed aside the bit of silk covering her and sank his fingers into her wet folds, her lust overcame her fear. She gave in and let herself gyrate against his touch.

Oh God, yes. Relief tore through her. She began simply responding, meeting his warm fingers in front, his thick cock in back. Up above he, gently, rhythmically pinched her nipple through her top and bra with each hot undulation.

"That's right, love," he whispered in her ear. "Fuck my fingers. Fuck my fingers with that sweet, hot little pussy."

The words spurred her on, and she prayed he was right, that no one would notice, that no one cared, because she was in too deep now to stop, moving against his hand, feeling how wet she was for him and knowing he felt it, too.

She bit her lip and did what he asked, even more vigorously, wanting to feel everything she could feel, wanting to drink in Draco and the night and all of Paris. She leaned her head back into his chest, arched her breast deeper into his hand, took in all the pleasure he delivered—her only acceptance of where they were being that she held in her moans and the Yes, yes, yes! She wanted to scream when her orgasm struck.

It rolled through her in delicious waves of heat, her breath coming harder, Draco's arm wrapped around her middle, anchoring her to keep her from collapsing, and only when it faded did she remember all over again that they were on top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris—with other people!

Letting out one last ragged breath, she rested against him and said, "Please tell me no one is staring at us."

She sensed the turn of his head to check. "No love—we're fine. And you," nipping at her ear,"are fucking beautiful."

He dropped a kiss atop her head, and the reprieve of knowing they'd not been seen compelled her to turn in his embrace, lock her arms around his neck, and pull him into a passionate kiss.

"Mmm, your hands," she sighed, still a bit breathless.

"What about them?" he asked with a raised brow and cocky smirk.

She smiled accusingly. "You already know. I know you do. They're… incredible."

He shrugged. "Okay, maybe I've heard that before."

She lowered her chin and cast her sexiest grin. "Well, you're hearing it again now, and… I'm going to reward you."

Draco arched one perfect, blond brow, looking almost as if he were daring her. "How?"

Ginny could barely understand what had just come over her. But the fact that she'd managed to climax without being noticed, and that the night seemed to grow darker still, and that the elevator had just departed, taking some people away but, from the quiet around them, apparently not delivering any—it all made her bolder than she'd ever been in her life.

They weren't totally alone—she could hear the soft echo of the two people's voices from the opposite side of the tower. But she decided they were alone enough.

The elevator sat on the side of the tower far opposite them, and she prayed the other people would stay there, as well, and that it would take the elevator awhile to arrive again.

She pushed him back against one of the tower's inner walls—then she dropped to her knees.

When she reached for his belt buckle, Draco gasped, "Fuck."

The thrill in his voice was all the encouragement she needed to deftly undo his buckle and unzip his jeans. Spreading them wide, she pressed her palm flat against his sturdy erection.

Mmm, yes—nothing had ever felt better in her hand. Then she lifted the black cotton briefs over his enormous, jutting cock. God, it looked even bigger from this angle. And though she'd never thought she cared about size, that suddenly made her want it more.

She'd never been this up-close with his penis, and despite the darkness, she was able to see the roundness of the head and its straight , bulletlike shape. On impulse, she leaned in to kiss the front of his length. A shuddering breath escaped him, and—oh god, he was so hard… and yet incredibly silky against her lips.

But she had no time for a leisurely perusal, so, grabbing back onto his shaft as the breeze lifted her hair from her neck, she lowered her mouth over the tip, then farther, letting it fill her mouth.

Above, he let out a shaky sigh that told her he was trying his damnedest to stay quiet as she adjusted to the fullness—and then began to move up and down.

She'd never been on to instigate a blow job—she'd always sort of considered it a duty, an obligation, when she was in a relationship with someone, and it was never a particularly enjoyable experience.

But somehow, after Draco had made her come, she'd needed to do this, needed to take him into her in whatever way she could, right here, right now. She'd yearned to pleasure him, deeply.

Accepting as much of his majestic cock as she could handle, she took delight in every move, every sensation. She looked up at him and hoped he could see her well enough in the dimness—even if she looked obscene right now, she wanted to, for him.

He'd clearly opened her up to new experiences, more forbidden sort of excitement, this hot thrill of taking sex of out the bedroom, out of any room at all.

Because the longer she worked over him, the more his large erection stretched her lips, the deeper he gently drove into the recesses of her mouth… the more ensconced in pure joy she became.

She wanted to do this right now more than she wanted to exist.

She wanted what she wanted, and nothing else mattered.

The words of her mother whispered in the back of her mind, "The heart wants what it wants." And the same was true of the body, and at this moment her body wanted to suck Draco's cock, hard and deep and thorough, until he came.

That's when she heard the elevator doors open on the other side of the tower. And then the light laughter, voices—more people.

She sucked him, felt his thrust, silently willing him to come.

She could tell from his ragged sighs that he was getting close, he pumped harder between her lips, but she also sensed the new visitors growing nearer, working their way around the tower.

So she released his cock from her mouth, stood up, grabbed onto it, and—in one determined move—yanked her thong aside and mounted him, one leg hitched on his hip, and being thankful she wore heels high enough to make the angle feasible. "If someone comes," she breathed, her mouth swollen and stretched, close to his, "we can be still. But this way, it'll maybe look like we're just kissing, not fucking."

He simply nodded, but his eyes blazed with lust as he began to vigorously plunge up into her welcoming warmth. "Fuck, won't take long," he murmured against her lips. Then thrust again, and again, and again, until—

"Miss Weasley!"

Opening her eyes, and whipping her head up, she came face to face with a very livid ghost.

"Um.. sorry Professsor," she mumbled, adding something about long Quidditch practices and a promise that it won't happen again.

Damn, and she just got to the good part. She sighed roughly, looking back up to the board to see the notes she had missed.

Of course within seconds she was reminded why see had used Fred and George's Daydream charm to begin with—History of Magic was dreadfully boring.

I need to talk to those two about getting rid of these annoying side effects… I was almost there! At least Binns is completely clueless; McGonagall would have had my head. Hmm… head…

With that, she closed her eyes and let her mind wander—remembering her daydream and contemplating what she'd see with the Charm she was saving for Trelawney's class.

Fred and George have something brilliant on their hands, no? Just another reason why HP should be real. *sigh*

So, I've gotten some requests for a second chapter... hmmm another daydream... this could get interesting!

Show your love people! xx