The Gravity Between Us
The night had settled over Hogwarts like a heavy curtain, the stars above twinkling coldly in the dark sky. The castle seemed more alive in the quiet hours, its stone walls holding secrets and desires that no one else could hear or see. Narcissa stood in the Astronomy Tower, looking out over the grounds, her thoughts a tangle of confusion and guilt. She had come here to find solitude, but solitude was a luxury she no longer possessed.
The events of the day, the countless moments when she had tried to ignore Lucius, had brought her here. His touch lingered in her mind, the soft brush of his hand on her skin, the warmth of his breath against her ear. She couldn’t escape him, no matter how far she tried to run. The way he had looked at her in the hallways, the way he had whispered that he understood, that he wanted her, had cut through all her defenses. He had made her feel something she couldn’t ignore, couldn’t push away.
Narcissa closed her eyes, leaning against the cold stone of the tower as the wind ruffled her hair. She hated this—hated the pull he had on her. She had never been one to let anyone get this close, but with Lucius, it was different. Every time she thought she could push him away, he came back harder, more insistent.
She didn’t know how long she had been standing there when she heard the soft sound of footsteps behind her. She tensed instinctively, but before she could turn, a familiar voice reached her ears.
“Narcissa.”
Lucius. She should have expected him. She should have known he wouldn’t let her hide away forever.
Without turning to face him, she asked, her voice strained, “Why are you here, Lucius?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” he replied, his tone low and edged with something she couldn’t quite place. There was a desperation in his voice, something raw that sent a ripple of unease through her. She didn’t want to hear it, didn’t want to acknowledge the feelings she knew were brewing between them, but she couldn’t stop herself from listening.
She could hear him step closer, feel his presence even before he was right behind her. The warmth of his body seeped into the cold night air, and her pulse quickened. The space between them was shrinking, and she didn’t know how much longer she could hold on.
“I thought you wanted space,” he said, his voice barely a whisper, but it carried the weight of a thousand unspoken words. She felt him reach out, his hand hovering near her arm, but he didn’t touch her. Not yet.
Narcissa’s chest tightened. She had told herself she wouldn’t give in. She had told herself this was a mistake. But the truth was, she didn’t want space. She didn’t want to keep running from him.
“I don’t need space,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I need distance.”
Lucius let out a low, frustrated sound, and in one swift motion, he turned her to face him. His silvery eyes were wild now, desperate, a sharp contrast to the calm, controlled facade he usually wore. She was trapped in his gaze, held by the intensity that radiated from him. She could see the struggle in his eyes—the need, the hunger, the raw emotion he was barely holding onto.
“Distance won’t stop this,” he said, his words coming out in a breathless rush. “You think I don’t feel it? This… this pull between us? It’s killing me, Narcissa.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught in her throat. What could she say? That it was killing her, too? That she felt it too? That she was terrified of what it meant?
But before she could form the words, Lucius’s hand slid into her hair, his fingers threading through the strands with a force that made her gasp. His other hand rested on her waist, pulling her closer. And then, his lips were on hers.
The kiss was sudden, intense, everything she had been fighting against for so long. She froze for a second, her mind screaming at her to pull away, to stop it before it went too far. But her body betrayed her. She couldn’t stop herself from leaning into him, from deepening the kiss as his lips moved against hers, urgent and hungry.
It was as though everything she had tried to bury was coming to the surface in that moment. The fear, the desire, the desperation—it was all there, swirling between them, and she couldn’t escape it. She had never felt anything like this before—so raw, so real. Lucius’s hands were everywhere, caressing her back, pulling her closer, and she found herself pressed up against him, her hands tangled in his robes, her body responding to his in ways she couldn’t control.
When they finally pulled apart, they were both breathless, their chests heaving with the effort to catch their breath. Narcissa’s heart was pounding, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. She couldn’t believe she had kissed him, that she had let him kiss her.
But Lucius wasn’t done. He didn’t give her the chance to process what had just occurred. His lips were on hers again, his hand sliding down to the small of her back, pulling her even closer. The kiss was deeper now, more insistent, as though he was trying to convey everything he had been feeling in that single moment. The world around them faded into nothingness, and all that existed was the two of them, locked in this desperate, consuming kiss.
Narcissa’s mind was a haze, but there was one thing that was crystal clear: she wanted this. She wanted him. She didn’t care about the consequences, about the dangers, about everything that told her she shouldn’t do this. All she cared about was the heat between them, the way his hands made her feel, the way his lips tasted, the way her body responded to his.
But then, as quickly as it had started, it ended. Lucius pulled away, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths. He looked at her, his eyes filled with something she couldn’t name, something that made her feel exposed and vulnerable.
“We can’t do this,” she said, the words slipping from her lips before she could stop them. But even as she said them, she knew it was a lie.
Lucius stepped back, his hands falling to his sides, his eyes never leaving hers. There was a quiet anger in his gaze now, but it wasn’t directed at her—it was directed at the world, at the rules, at everything that had kept them apart. His jaw clenched, and for a moment, he looked like a man who had lost everything he cared about.
“I know,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t care anymore.”
Narcissa could feel her heart shattering in her chest. She wanted to reach out, to tell him that she cared too, that she couldn’t fight this anymore. But she didn’t know how. The weight of everything—the fear, the consequences, the world they lived in—was too much for her to carry.
“I have to go,” she whispered, turning away before he could see the tears that had begun to well in her eyes.
But Lucius didn’t stop her. He didn’t say a word. He just watched her walk away, the gravity of the moment pulling them both in opposite directions.