The Astronomy Tower felt larger than the rest of the castle, a hollow space where the wind howled through the stone arches. Harry had left the door ajar, a tiny sliver of light spilling from the stairwell into the dark of the room. Pansy was not here, and the rest of the Slytherins were nowhere near this height. Only the telescope sat in the centre of the room, a massive brass shape that looked like a sleeping beast in the moonlight. Harry walked toward the glass, her feet silent on the stone floor as she moved away from the warmth of the door.
Harry was already there, standing by the wide, arched window that overlooked the grounds. The moon was bright, casting a pale glow over his shoulders and the messy dark hair at the nape of his neck. He turned when she approached, his eyes catching the silver of her hair in the moonlight. He looked tired, his shoulders tense as if he were waiting for a reprimand or a lecture. Harry did not give him the chance to speak. She reached out and gripped the iron rail of the telescope, her knuckles white against the dark metal.
"You should have stayed in the stairwell," she said, her voice steady despite the way her heart hammered against her ribs.
"The door was open," Harry replied, stepping closer until the heat from his body reached her. "You left it open."
"I wanted you to find your way in," she admitted, looking up at him.
"You always do everything for a reason, Harry."
"Do not pretend you do not know what my reasons are."
He reached out, his fingers brushing the skin of her waist as he pulled her closer to the telescope. The metal was cold against her skin, but Harry was a furnace. He pressed her back against the rail, and the sensation of the hard iron biting into her hips made her gasp. He was not being gentle, and she did not want him to be. She wanted the friction and the weight of him to drown out the quiet of the tower.
"Is this a reason?" Harry asked, his voice low as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.
"It is a very good one," she whispered, tilting her head back to give him better access.
Harry moved his hand down, sliding it under the hem of her silk robes to find the bare skin of her thigh. He pushed her legs apart, forcing her to wrap one leg around his waist so he could stand between her thighs. Harry felt the hardness of his cock through his trousers, a thick, blunt pressure that made her ache. She reached down to fumbling with the fastenings of her clothes, her fingers shaking with a sudden, desperate need. She pushed her knickers aside, exposing her wet pussy to the cool air of the tower before she pulled them down to her ankles.
Harry stripped his trousers off with efficient, jagged movements. When he stepped into her, his bare skin felt electric against her inner thighs. He gripped her hips, his thumbs digging into the flesh, and guided his cock to the entrance of her cunt. He pushed forward, the head of his cock sliding into her soaking wetness. Harry let out a sharp, choked cry as he filled her. He was thick and hot, stretching her walls until she felt every inch of him.
"Fuck," Harry breathed, his forehead resting against hers as he began to drive into her. "You are so tight, Harry."
"Don't stop," she commanded, her fingers clawing at his shoulders. "Just fuck me."
He obeyed, thrusting his cock into her with heavy, rhythmic stabs. Every time he pushed into her, her hips bumped against the iron rail of the telescope, the vibration travelling up her spine. The metal was freezing against her back, a sharp contrast to the sliding heat of his cock inside her. He moved with a frantic energy, his balls slapping against her cunt with a wet, rhythmic sound that echoed in the high ceiling of the room. Harry felt the pressure building in her lower belly, a coil of tension that she could not escape.
Harry gripped her thighs tighter, pulling her even closer to the rail so he could drive deeper. He was hitting her cervix with every heavy thrust, making her vision blur. She watched him through half-closed eyes, seeing the way his muscles bunched in his arms and the way his jaw remained tight with effort. He looked feral in the moonlight, a boy stripped of his pretenses and left only with the hunger of the moment.
"Look at me," Harry muttered, his voice a gravelly rasp.
She opened her eyes, watching him as he pounded into her. "I am looking."
"Tell me you want it," he said, his pace increasing, his thrusts becoming shorter and more violent.
"I want your cock in me," she gasped, her head tossing back as the sensation peaked. "Harder, Harry. Fuck me harder."
He leaned forward, his chest pressing her flat against the telescope rail. The metal bit into her breasts as he drove himself into her one last time with a deep, bruising lunge. The friction of his cock in her pussy was too much to bear. Harry felt the first wave of her orgasm hit, her walls clamping tightly around his length. She cried out, her voice a sharp command in the dark, as her pussy pulsed around him.
Harry groaned, a low, guttural sound that vibrated in his chest. He did not pull out as he reached his own climax. He thrust one last time, buried deep to the hilt, and she felt the hot, thick spurt of his cum filling her. He pumped into her, his semen coating the walls of her cunt as he emptied himself inside her. He stayed there for a long moment, his weight pinning her to the cold iron, both of them breathing in heavy, ragged gasps that filled the silence of the tower.
The air felt cold again as the intensity of the moment faded. Harry pulled back slowly, the wet sound of his cock sliding out of her pussy making her shiver. He stood there for a second, his skin glistening with sweat despite the chill of the night. He reached down to pick up his clothes, his movements slower now, more grounded.
"You're going to be the death of me," Harry said, a small, breathless laugh escaping him as he looked at her.
"You should be used to it by now," she replied, smoothing her robes back over her damp skin.
She stood up, her legs feeling slightly unsteady on the stone floor. She looked at the door, the sliver of light from the stairwell still visible. She had never been one to follow the rules of the castle, but she was a creature of habit, and her habit was to leave things perfectly in order. She walked to the heavy wooden door and reached for the handle, but she paused. Instead of pulling it shut and ensuring the latch clicked into place, she left it a fraction of an inch open. She kept the door unlocked on the way out, which she had never once done.