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I kissed her hard on the mouth, pulling her head into mine with the hand which had a moment ago been stroking her hair like a father. She made no attempt to resist, returning my kiss eagerly, and hungrily slipping her tongue between my lips to meet my own. I held her tighter, fearing she might be carried off at any moment by the forces of the modern world which had somehow involved this sweet little flower in the sale and use of class A narcotics, and as I held her close she became limp in my arms. My hand slid down her back and gently stroked her ass, giving it a small squeeze, to which I felt her breath in my mouth and on my cheek become more rapid. I lifted up the bottom of her dress and slid my hand up her inner thigh. The slowly intensifying heat as I approached her groin made my trouser leg strain under the pressure of my gradually growing erection, which made her whimper ever-so-faintly as I pressed it against her leg. Her hand curiously explored my torso and made its way to my. She lay in her own bed, wide awake, thinking of how sorry she felt for Harry. He was holding so much in, she was afraid he would burst someday soon. They were all sad Sirius was gone, but they had others to fall back on. Harry formed very fast and very strong attachments to people, probably because he’d felt so alone for so long. Sirius of course had been no exception and to take him away from her friend was simply cruel. And those muggles! How Harry could continue to suffer in silence for what those horrid people did to him, she just didn’t know. She figured it was probably because he was embarrassed, but she didn’t care. She wished the Order had done more than threaten the Dursleys, she wished they’d cursed them straight to hell. Tossing and turning for more than an hour, she finally gave up on sleep and kicked off the covers. There was nothing she could think to do to help Harry through all of this… she certainly couldn’t force him to talk to her. And if he didn’t talk to her, how.
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