Beyond Fear

The rain was still falling gently outside, creating a soothing melody against the bedroom windows. Harry lay beside Luna, both silent, each lost in their thoughts about what had transpired between them that day. It was late, and the room was wrapped in a comforting dimness, with only the soft glow of a lamp casting gentle shadows on the walls.

Luna shifted slightly, adjusting the pillow beneath her belly. Harry noticed the movement and turned toward her, propping his head on his arm as he looked at her.

"Can’t sleep?" he asked, his voice low in the quiet of the night.

Luna opened her eyes softly, her lips curving into a small smile. "I think the babies are as restless as I am," she replied, placing a hand on her belly.

Harry reached out to gently touch her belly. "They must be eager to see the world."

Luna chuckled softly, but the sound was interrupted by a sigh she couldn’t suppress. Harry’s touch, light and almost reverent, sent a shiver down her spine. Their eyes met, and the tension that had lingered between them all day seemed to intensify, filling the room with palpable energy.

"Harry…" she began, but her voice faltered. It wasn’t quite what she wanted to say, but it was what had been stuck in her throat for hours.

He remained silent, simply watching her. His eyes scanned her face, noting every detail—the soft glow of her skin, the way her blonde hair fell in disheveled waves over the pillow, and the vulnerability in her expression. His heart raced, and he didn’t try to hide it.

"Luna," he murmured, as if saying her name was enough to explain the whirlwind of emotions consuming him.

She observed him for a few seconds longer before moving, slow but decisive. Her hand found his face, her fingers softly tracing the line of his jaw. He leaned into the touch, as if her warmth was something he hadn’t known he needed until that moment.

The distance between them shrank. It wasn’t abrupt, but immediate, like two celestial bodies being drawn toward each other. When their lips met again, it was different from the kiss that morning. There was no surprise or urgency, only a mutual surrender to the desire that had been building.

Luna sighed against his lips, and Harry felt her hands glide through his hair, pulling him slightly closer. The heat between them was almost overwhelming, but not uncomfortably so—it was like a collapse, something that finally made sense. He pulled her gently closer, mindful of her belly, but unable to resist the growing intensity in his touch.

The kiss deepened, but there was no rush. Every movement seemed deliberate, as if they wanted to savor the moment, to absorb every sensation. When they finally pulled apart to breathe, their foreheads touched, and Harry’s eyes found hers again.

"I don’t know how this happened," he murmured, almost breathless, "but I don’t think I want it to stop."

Luna’s eyes sparkled with something between affection and desire. "Maybe we shouldn’t stop," she replied, her voice as soft as the rain outside.

He chuckled quietly, but the sound was cut off as she moved again, pressing her lips to his once more. Harry’s hands roamed gently over her body, but they didn’t go beyond kissing. Perhaps it was best to take things slow.

As the kiss continued, the world around them seemed to disappear, leaving just the two of them, wrapped in this long-awaited moment.

The aroma of breakfast filled the kitchen as Harry stirred a pan of scrambled eggs. It was a calm morning, despite the night before. He moved lazily, still shaking sleep from his eyes, but his thoughts were on Luna’s kisses. They had spent a long time kissing and caressing each other gently. It was wonderful.

Harry was pulled from his thoughts by the soft sound of Luna’s footsteps entering the kitchen, and when he turned, the sight of her made something tighten in his chest. She was barefoot, her hair messy, and wearing one of his shirts, which barely covered the curve of her belly.

"Good morning," she said, her voice low and soft.

"Good morning," he replied with a sleepy smile, continuing to stir the eggs. "You should have called me to help you downstairs." He knew she was feeling much better, but he couldn’t help worrying.

Luna moved to the counter where he stood, and Harry, without much thought, leaned down to kiss her. It was a natural gesture, as if it were something they did all the time. Their lips touched with initial tenderness, full of something that had been growing between them.

"Harry," Luna murmured against his lips, not pulling away.

"Yes?"

"The eggs..."

He pulled back abruptly, glancing at the pan with an unmistakable smell of burning. Laughing, Harry removed the pan from the heat.

"I guess we’re having toast and coffee today."

Luna laughed, but there was something in her eyes—a mix of amusement and intensity that left Harry breathless. She sat at the table while he finished preparing breakfast, trying to focus on the tasks at hand while feeling her gaze on his back like a silent question.

Why couldn’t he stop wanting her? And why did it feel so right when nothing about this situation was simple?

Later, they were at the table surrounded by books and scrolls, trying to make progress on their OWL revisions, though the more they worked, the more there seemed to be to study. Harry was scribbling a list of defensive spells while Luna, one hand resting on her belly, sketched diagrams for Advanced Potions.

"You’re distracted," he commented, not looking up from the scroll.

"Maybe," she replied enigmatically.

Harry stopped what he was doing and looked at her, raising an eyebrow. "Maybe?"

Luna just smiled, and without warning, leaned over to kiss him. It was quick, almost playful, but it quickly transformed into something more serious, more urgent. He felt her hand slide to his face, holding him as if afraid he might disappear. Their mouths opened, tongues entwined, and Luna sucked his lower lip, making him groan softly.

When they pulled away, Luna laughed softly, her lips still slightly parted.

"That definitely wasn’t in the study schedule." She tried to catch her breath.

"Maybe we should include kissing breaks," he suggested, trying to sound casual but with his heart pounding too hard.

Her gaze lingered on him longer than usual, as if searching for answers to unspoken questions. Harry looked away but thought:

Why did this feel so easy and yet so terrifying at the same time?

That night, while watching a movie in the living room, Luna was lying on the couch with her head resting on Harry's shoulder. He absentmindedly played with a strand of her hair as a Muggle romantic comedy played on the screen.

His thoughts were on the events of that afternoon. They had been finishing the painting of the bedroom, which could have been completed that day, but he and Luna kept getting distracted, stealing kisses like lovestruck teenagers.

Was he falling in love with her? His feelings for Luna were so confusing. He knew it wasn’t just friendship, but he couldn’t quite define what it was.

His eyes drifted back to the movie.

“This movie is awful,” he commented.

“I like how awful it is,” Luna replied, laughing.

Harry looked at her, and their eyes met. The moment seemed to stretch, and as though drawn by an invisible force, he leaned in to kiss her again. Luna responded without hesitation, and the kiss quickly became more intense as he pulled her into his lap.

When they broke apart, she rested her forehead against his, her eyes still closed. “Why is it so hard to stay away from you?”

He pulled her back in for another kiss, pressing her breasts against his chest. The kiss was wet and sensual, and he wanted so much more than just to kiss her. It was becoming increasingly difficult to stick to his decision to take things slow.

Harry hadn’t answered Luna’s question because he felt the same way but couldn’t put it into words. He couldn’t stay away from her. He wanted to kiss her all the time and have his hands on her. It was as if something greater was guiding them, something he wasn’t sure he was ready to face.

Luna pushed him to the edge with her sounds, her body, her scent. He wanted her, and she wanted him too—neither of them tried to hide it. Spending the whole day alone with her was now pure temptation. There was nothing to stand in their way except their own resolutions, and Harry’s resolve was slipping. Luna didn’t seem to have any intention of taking things slowly; she clung to him and kissed him with abandon. She was a blend of delicacy and sensuality that Harry hadn’t expected but loved having.

When the kiss ended, he kissed her neck, feeling her body shiver. He wanted to trail kisses down her neckline, but he took a deep breath and pulled back, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

“You’re killing me,” she said softly, her eyes dark with desire.

Harry smiled. He definitely wouldn’t be able to take it slow for much longer.