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Harry’s heels clicked against the stone floor as she strode through the empty corridors, her breath coming in shallow gasps. The Yule Ball was still in full swing, music echoing faintly through the castle, but she had needed to get out. Away from Cormac’s sweaty hands, away from the suffocating expectation of the evening, away from—
Him.
She barely registered where she was going, only that she needed space, needed air. Her emotions were a tangled mess, an unbearable weight pressing down on her chest. Somehow, her feet had led her to the dungeons, the dim torchlight flickering against the cold stone walls.
A part of her recognized the irony. Running from Tom only to end up in his domain.
She leaned against the wall, pressing her fingers to her temples. She needed to get a grip. She needed to—
“You are unbelievable.”
The voice sent a violent shiver down her spine.
Harry’s eyes snapped open as Tom stepped out of the shadows, his expression a mask of controlled fury. But his eyes—those dark, knowing eyes—burned with something far more volatile.
“Following me now?” she asked, her voice sharper than intended.
His lips curled into something between a smirk and a sneer. “No. But it seems you have a habit of running.”
Harry huffed, turning away. “I’m not in the mood for this, Tom.”
“Oh, I think you are,” he said smoothly, stepping closer. “Or else you wouldn’t be here, wandering through my corridors, looking like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Harry clenched her fists. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
Tom hummed, tilting his head. “I don’t have to. You do it for me.”
Her temper snapped. “You are so—”
But before she could finish, he grabbed her wrist, tugging her forward so quickly that she barely had time to stumble before she was being pulled through a concealed doorway.
The room they entered was dimly lit, but unmistakable—the Slytherin common room.
Tom pulled her through the space without pause, stopping only once he had ushered her into another room—his dormitory. The heavy, dark green curtains around the four-poster bed made it feel too intimate, too real.
She yanked her arm free, spinning on him. “You absolute prat—”
Tom shut the door behind them with a soft click. “You want to yell at me? Fine. But not where anyone can hear us.”
Harry’s chest heaved as she glared at him, her blood pounding in her ears. “This is completely unnecessary. There’s nothing between us to yell about.”
His smirk didn’t waver. “But there is. You’re angry. So what is it? Do you want me to apologize? Say ‘I’m sorry you hate me so much, and I’m sorry that my very existence seems to offend you’?”
Harry stood there, back straight, jaw clenched. She didn’t meet Tom’s gaze.
Tom took a step forward, and she took a step back.
It was a dance, one they had been performing for months.
“Say it. Isn’t that what you want me to say?” he murmured, his voice low and deliberate, something mocking in it. “We both know it. You want me to apologize for the sheer act of existing. You claim to hate everything about me. So just say it.”
“I don’t care about any of this,” she lied, her back hitting the bedpost.
Tom exhaled a quiet laugh, his hand rising to brush a stray curl from her face. The touch was featherlight, but it sent a shockwave through her body. “Go on, Harry. Say the words.”
“I feel nothing for you,” Harry whispered, shivering.
“Liar,” Tom whispered back.
Before Harry could form a response, Tom’s lips crashed against hers, the suddenness of it stealing her breath away.
It was hot and demanding, and for a moment, Harry was paralyzed, caught between confusion and something far more dangerous. Time seemed to slow, then speed up in a dizzying rush.
She felt Tom’s lips move against hers, coaxing, demanding, as if trying to make her respond, to force her to feel what he was feeling.
Slowly, almost against her will, she kissed him back, her hands trembling as they found the front of his robes, clutching at the fabric.
Tom’s response was immediate, deepening the kiss, his grip tightening around her as if he were afraid she might slip away.
Harry could barely breathe, but somehow, she didn’t care. The world outside them faded, leaving only the intensity of the moment, the heat of Tom’s body pressing against hers.
Then, as quickly as it had begun, Harry pulled back, gasping for air, her chest heaving, her mind spinning. She stepped across the room, her hands running through her hair, her breath ragged and shivered involuntarily.
Harry looked up at Tom, her heart pounding in her chest, and met his eyes. Tom looked torn between want and frustration as he watched her from darkening eyes.
“That… that was not a good idea,” Harry said, her voice low and strained. She couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.
Tom’s jaw clenched before he slowly stepped towards her again. “Give me one good reason that this isn’t a good idea.”
Harry swallowed hard, her eyes flickering between Tom and the floor, trying to find some way to escape the weight of what had just passed between them. Finally, she looked up at Tom who was still watching her, his gaze intense, almost searching.
“I know hundreds of reasons why this is a terrible idea,” Harry said, her voice tight, “but right now, I can’t seem to remember a single one of them.”
Before Tom could respond, Harry moved across the room back toward him in one swift motion, reaching out. Tom met her halfway, the space between them closing in an instant.
Suddenly, they were locked in a desperate embrace. Harry kissed him over and over and at one point, she was so breathless she seemed to blackout for a moment.
Harry moved her lips away from Tom’s smoldering kisses and breathed in the smell of him. Tom slowly maneuvered them to pin Harry back against one of the cold stone walls, pressing wild, tumbling kisses onto any part of her he could.
Harry pulled Tom’s head back to hers and kissed him again. There was nothing but Tom. Tom and her. They were all that existed at that moment, the bond humming as if in relief at this acknowledgement of what they were to each other.
Tom groaned against her lips, his hands sliding to her waist, his fingers pressing into the soft fabric of her gown as he guided her backward. Her legs hit the mattress, and before she knew it, they were tumbling onto his bed, the weight of him pressing against her, his body hot and solid against hers.
“Tell me to stop,” Tom whispered against her mouth, his hands slowly working up her dress.
“Don’t stop,” Harry gasped. Her fingers worked blindly at the buttons of his robe, desperate and clumsy, and he laughed against her mouth—low and wicked—before rolling his hips into hers, making her gasp.
“I hate you,” she muttered against his lips, her hands fisting in his shirt.
Tom smirked, kissing the corner of her mouth before trailing down the curve of her jaw. “Liar.”
Before long, most of their clothes were discarded, and Tom’s warm weight hovered close to her again. Harry let out a shaky breath as his skin pressed close to her.
As he kissed her again, long and slow, almost without Harry realizing it, Tom slowly unlatched her bra, his thumbs tracing circles on her soft skin.
Harry hummed against his mouth as he tossed her bra onto the growing pile of discarded clothing.
And then Tom’s thumbs brushed against Harry’s breasts, causing her to gasp, her breath catching in her throat. He trailed his fingers lightly over her stomach, making her squirm slightly.
Soon, his hands reached her panties, red and gold things that she’d let Lavender talk her into wearing.
"Come here," Tom rasped softly, grasping her hips and hooking his fingers under the band of her panties. With a low groan, he slowly slid them down over her hips. He tossed them aside as well.
Harry let out a nervous whimper as the silky fabric was pulled away, baring her completely to him.
Tom’s breath hitched as he paused and just looked at her, drinking in her flushed cheeks and parted lips. “God knows you’ll be my ruin,” he whispered reverently.
Strong, skilled hands made their way up Harry’s body as Tom began to stroke, nibble, and kiss his way up every inch of skin he could see. His hands moved confidently over her curves, igniting trails of fire wherever they touched.
When he got to the crux of her thighs, Tom felt Harry tense underneath him and merely left a slow kiss on her silky hip before continuing his way up.
By the time he dropped a kiss on her mouth, they were both panting, eyes glazed.
Tom’s mouth slanted over hers, his tongue probing urgently for entry. Harry arched against him, a soft moan escaping her lips as he slipped inside.
As their tongues danced, Tom’s hands cupped Harry’s breasts, his thumbs brushing over hardened nipples, sending electric shocks coursing through her body.
Tom broke the kiss briefly to catch his breath, his forehead resting against Harry’s. Their gazes locked, and for a moment, they simply stared at each other, chests heaving.
Then Tom leaned down to kiss her again, deep and slow.
Harry yielded, melting into the sensation of his lips moving sensuously against hers.
As Tom kissed her, his hands nudged her knees apart, and Harry felt something build up; whether panic or excitement, she couldn’t readily say.
His breath tickled her neck as he settled his warm weight on top of her again, his hips between the delicate flesh of her inner thighs and his large hands firmly wrapped around them.
When Tom shifted slightly, positioning himself between her thighs, Harry felt him, hard and hot, bump up against the inside of her thigh, and she inhaled sharply.
“Tom?” Harry whispered against his lips.
He hummed, one hand gently tracing the curve of her hip.
“I’m a little scared,” she admitted, trembling as she felt his thick hot length rub momentarily against her.
Tom nuzzled her neck briefly. “Just relax, Harry. Trust me." He kissed her, long and deep.
“I’ll make it good for you. We’ll take it nice and slow,” he added, mumbling against her mouth as he raised her knees up to widen the frame of her thighs around him, planting her feet firmly on the bed.
He nudged his hardness closer to her entrance, the tip rubbing softly against her folds.
Harry’s stomach fluttered nervously as she nodded, closing her eyes tightly and trying to focus on their kisses as she felt him rub and push against her slowly.
Tom moaned appreciatively as he pushed forward experimentally, feeling the warmth of her wet folds and burying his face into the side of Harry’s neck, trying to suppress his pleasure. The friction was incredible, her wetness caressing him as he began to slide inside.
Tom held himself there for a moment, his whole body shuddering. Then, he drew back slightly, teasing her with the tip of his cock before pushing in further.
Harry’s eyes widened, a small gasp escaping her lips as Tom pressed deeper, stretching her.
She squirmed just a little, but with that small brush of her against him, Tom lost control. Rasping out roughly, “You’re so tight. I don’t want to hurt you but you’re so, so tight,” he groaned and with one hard, deep thrust, he was inside her.
Harry cried out, the unexpected invasion making her arch her back, pressing closer to him.
Tom froze above her, grappling with the intensity of how perfectly she fit around him. “Harry.” His voice was strained as his eyes found hers, “Harry, are you okay?”
Harry shivered, looking back into his dark eyes. And suddenly, it didn’t hurt so much. It felt good. Right. She kissed him in response, pulling his head back down to hers.
Encouraged by Harry’s response, Tom pulled out partly before slowly pushing back in.
Harry gasped at the sensation of the slow drag of his thick length against her inner muscles. She was suddenly very aware of the fact that she was stretched and very full.
As Tom slowly rocked inside her, Harry began to move tentatively beneath him, drawing fast, sharp breaths as she adjusted to his thickness.
Tom shuddered at Harry’s tentative movements, her inner walls hugging him tightly. Gritting his teeth, he continued to slide back and forth in steady strokes, maintaining a careful pace.
With each measured thrust, Harry’s body grew hotter, more needful. She moved in rhythm with him, sensation blooming within her as the last of the residual pain subsided, replaced by waves of pleasure that drew a soft moan from her lips.
There was nothing else that existed in that moment. It was just the luxurious feeling of Tom inside of her and the sweat of their intermingling bodies. It was the dark pools of Tom’s eyes as their gazes locked before he leaned down and kissed her, hard and desperate.
"Relax, sweetheart," Tom panted against her ear. "Let go."
Harry did her best to relax, to lose herself in the feel of Tom moving inside her. She inhaled sharply as Tom pushed deeper and a hot curling feeling built up low in her stomach.
Losing all reasoning as her world boiled down to the sheer feeling of them, the want—no, the need—for more, Harry ached. It was impossible to say where she ended and he began.
Because she didn’t know how else to vent her frustration at the slow building feeling, Harry raked her fingernails across Tom’s back, fingers digging into his shoulders. With a muted groan, he kissed her fiercely, swallowing her moan, and began to move in earnest, thrusting harder as their tempo increased.
Harry pulled her lips from his and buried her face in his shoulder as she struggled to keep up with the mounting sensations coursing through her.
She felt it just right there, right there, just out of reach. “Tom,” she begged, unable to understand how she could still talk, “please—I need—I need—”
But the intensity increased, and before she could finish her thought, Tom slid one hand between them, his thumb finding her sensitive bud and circling it with expert precision.
Harry cried out, her body bucking off the bed as he swirled his thumb against her most sensitive spot. A hot wave of pleasure surged through her, and she could feel herself getting closer, teetering on the edge.
Tom’s relentless thumb kept teasing her clit, pressing hard then light, rubbing against it. Harry thrashed and moaned as pleasure flooded through her, ricocheting off each nerve ending, clouding her thoughts.
Finally, finally, Harry was pushed over the edge. Wave after wave of molten pleasure erupted, and she was helpless to do anything but ride it out. She moaned and whimpered and ground harder against Tom. There was nothing to do but feel. Coherency had all but ceased.
Moaning in response, Tom thrust into her harder and faster. The ache of pleasure only grew greater as the two of them moved together.
Tom felt the tremors racking Harry’s body, her climax washing over her and taking hold as she squeezed him tighter in her ecstasy.
Groaning desperately, Tom hitched up her legs around his waist and thrust into her tight warmth frantically, his thrusts becoming harder and more urgent as Harry clung to him.
Harry’s heart pounded, her breath coming in short gasps as she reveled in the release that washed over her.
Tom pumped into her rapidly, driven by desperation and desire, groans echoing in her ear.
His desires echoed her own. All she knew was that she wanted him closer, needed him to fill her completely, needed to feel every last bit of this connection that had been ignited between them.
She clung tighter, her legs wrapping firmly around his waist. Growling deeply, Tom leaned back, grasping her hips tightly with both hands. He bucked upwards powerfully, losing himself in her body.
As Harry’s legs squeezed Tom’s waist, pulling him deeper, he felt her heat enveloping every inch of his erection. He grit his teeth as the first sensation of electric pleasure began coursing through him.
“Oh, Harry," Tom groaned, his body tensing as his orgasm crested. With a few more powerful thrusts, he came undone, his hot release pulsing deep inside her.
Tom thrust in deep into Harry again and again, his body shuddering as wave after wave of pleasure consumed him before he finally buried himself in her as far as he could go, slowly grinding his hips flush against hers.
Gasping at the unfamiliar sensation, Harry tensed around him as she felt Tom spill himself deep inside her. The liquid warmth of his cum spread through her, filling her completely and overflowing from her.
Tom collapsed atop her as the final tremors wracked his body, their hearts pounding furiously against each other.
Harry slowly wrapped her arms around his sweat-slicked, naked torso as her legs fell away from his waist.
In the aftermath, there was only the breathless, dizzying realization that this—this—had always been inevitable.