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Author’s Note: Thank you to everyone who reviewed – they really motivate me to write! Someday I might write the backstory to the cupboard, but it’s hard to say when. It’s kind of an amusing but ridiculous story. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Please review. :)

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, the fans would be severely disappointed, I’m sure. Please don’t sue me – I’m simply borrowing a few characters and etcetera.



Duality: The Cupboard


oOo


“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good…” Harry whispered under his covers in his dormitory. He could hear all the other boys’ snores from the next bed, telling him that they were asleep, for sure.

He’d been keeping a close eye on Malfoy on and off for the past few hours, watching the pointed ferret prowl around the school. He’d told Hermione earlier – Ron had passed out almost as soon as he collapsed onto the sofa when they returned – about the attack on Katie Bell and she thought he was absolutely mad with his theory about Malfoy. She, like McGonagall, obviously believed proof was needed and apparently wasn’t aware that Malfoy was acting suspicious.

Given Harry’s recent – begrudgingly admitted – obsession with the blonde Slytherin, Hermione was even less apt to believe him. Especially after he told her what McGonagall had said about Malfoy being in detention – but that didn’t mean he wasn’t behind it.

Who was the accomplice?

Staring at the map, his eyes searched the dungeons and the seventh floor corridor where he usually spotted Malfoy. But now, according to the map, Draco Malfoy wasn’t in his dormitory anymore, like he was earlier with Zabini and Theodore Nott… Malfoy was in the Astronomy Tower – pacing. After curfew.

Then he noticed that Daphne was out and about as well, but he had to look twice; she moved quickly. Her name streaked across the page as if she were running… Harry’s brows wrinkled. That’s weird.

Was she in trouble?

Harry got up and threw his invisibility cloak on. Why was she moving across the page so quickly? He ran down the stairs as quietly as he could and exited the common room, slipping past the Fat Lady, who was snoring loudly in her portrait.

Hurriedly, he trekked to the corridor where Daphne resided a floor below him, stopping just around the corner. He looked at the map under the light of his wand. She seemed to be staying still at the moment, until –

She was heading straight toward him!

Harry looked up and noticed she was on a broom; his eyes widened, watching her. She did tell him that she went ‘racing’ every Saturday, but if this was racing… He watched her pause at the end of the corridor and look around the corner and up the stairs he just came from. He could hear Filch’s distinct footsteps and Daphne flew toward him, but this time she flew lower, heading at him, full speed –

Harry completely forgot that she couldn’t see him.

Bang!

They were sprawled out on the floor, and the sound of Filch’s slinky footsteps quickened, pattering against the stone floor. Harry’s cloak was tangled around his feet as he tried to get up. His arsebone was surely bruised as it took the brunt of his fall. A hand pulled on the back of his shirt, and he realized he was being dragged and shoved into a broom cupboard, Daphne close behind him – she kept her finger over his mouth.

“Shh,” she hissed, unnecessarily, as they heard Filch pass.

“Well, well, Mrs. Norris, what do we have here?” Filch’s slippery voice sounded, loudly. “A broom, I wonder how that got there…”

The doorknob on the broom cupboard jiggled, but didn’t open. Harry’s heart thumped loudly in his chest, he shooed Daphne’s finger off his mouth. He couldn’t see a thing in the dark broom cupboard, but he could feel her eyes boring into him.

When Filch’s footfalls faded in the distance, he could hear him grumbling about ‘bloody lazy students mucking up the castle’ to his cat. Harry let out a sigh of relief when it went silent and he felt Daphne slunk down onto a shelf. “For once I can thank Merlin that this cupboard is always locked when people are inside it,” she whispered.

Harry tried to open the door. “I didn’t hear you lock it,” he mused, glancing in her direction out of the corner of his eye despite not being able to see anything. She stayed silent. He pulled out his wand and tried to do an unlocking spell but the door wouldn’t open.

He raised his wand again determinedly-

“You’re wasting your time,” Daphne interrupted, lighting her wand. She adjusted her position on the shelf she perched upon. “This is the cupboard. I thought everyone – or at least every boy – knew that?”

The cupboard? As much time as they had spent in broom cupboards, hiding away from everyone, he had never seen the inside of this particular cupboard before.

“What exactly is the cupboard and why can’t we get out?” He glanced back at the door. If only Hermione were here, they’d be able to.

He wondered if she was out doing Prefect duties tonight. If she caught them in here, he’d be safe enough, but if another Prefect caught them, it spelled detention for him and Daphne. Hopefully they checked the Astronomy tower first – Malfoy was bound to more than occupy their time. His map was probably on the floor somewhere and he didn’t want to risk picking it up in front of Daphne.

Daphne snickered, her eyes shining. “You’ve never brought a girl here?”

Harry shook his head. “Of course not, why?” he asked curiously, looking around at the usual dusty cleaning supplies that plagued a few cupboards throughout the castle. It didn’t look like any special cupboard.

“This is the snogging cupboard of the century. Draco tried to get me in here a million times before I finally relented.”

His lip curled at the mention of the very reason he was locked in a cupboard. Not that he minded being locked in the cupboard with Daphne – often it was one of the most enjoyable experiences of his life. But if they were stuck and had to wait for someone, to spell open the door… that wouldn’t do well for the ridiculous rumours flying around. “Snogging cupboard?” Harry asked. “I thought they’re all… fit for snogging?”

Daphne shrugged. “The Weasley Twins cursed it in second year. Most people call it ‘the mistletoe cupboard’.”

Then it hit him.

“Are you serious?” Harry’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. When she nodded, a wide grin spread across his face. “We’re trapped in here till we snog?”

“Mhm,” she replied with a smirk, standing up, lifting a hand; their bodies brushed against each other in the cramp space of the cupboard. His stomach tingled anxiously as he glanced at her lips; her tongue slipped out to wet them. Her wand clattered to the floor, casting strong shadows over their faces, but through the darkness he could see her clear blue eyes staring up at him.

He felt her hand on the back of his neck and, capriciously, her lips met his in a searing kiss, tasting of nothing but smoke and Daphne. Harry had to force back a moan, his mouth opened slightly and she took advantage, caressing the tip of his tongue with her own. Her fingers gently slid against his skin beneath the collar of his shirt, sending shivers up and down his spine. His hands rested on the small of her back, and she pressed even closer.

Every time they kissed it seemed as if the experience got better and better. Three days was much too long to go without this.

Harry fell back against the door, his hands quickly sneaking through her parted robe to tug at the hem of her shirt and caress the skin beneath. Gasping as Daphne nipped at his lip, he felt the overwhelming urge to just tear the fabric between his fingers. Her hand crept down his front and ghosted her fingers over the growing bulge in his pyjama bottoms, stroking ever-too-lightly through the fabric – barely touching him.

He whimpered, trying to rub against her, but her fingers were always a tiny breadth away. More… Hell, he needed more.

He pulled away from her, panting, and lowered his mouth to her neck, kissing from her ear to the joint of her throat, all the way down to her collarbone. He pressed his tongue against her pulse, feeling it beat erratically as he sucked at it, determined to leave a small red mark behind. Daphne keened and he felt it hum against his lips. His mind was whirling, dizzy, his blood rushing south as she hooked her fingers under the elastic of his waistband and inched it down. She tempted every bit of skin uncovered. Her hand brushed over his cock.

With a growl, he flipped them around, pressing her hard against the door. “Tease,” he murmured, kissing along her jaw, feeling it hum with throaty laughter. He could only imagine what she’d look like if he pulled away: face flushed, eyes half closed and heavy with desire, and that beautiful dazed smile spread across her face.

Harry hurriedly tugged at her clothes, pushing the cloak off her shoulders, pulling up her t-shirt just enough to knead her naked breasts. Daphne’s fingers weaved through his hair and pulled him in for another kiss. Licking at her lips, they parted and he swirled his tongue along hers. His thumbs swept over her nipples, rubbing circles. Her hands snuck under his shirt, nails raking delicate paths down the skin of his back in a way that set his nerves on fire.

Daphne knew every one of his weaknesses – especially her bloody nails, pressing against his skin; they made it feel as they were directly connected to every oversensitive nerve ending in his body. Every place they touched tingled intensely, spreading all the way down to his toes.

Harry reached down and lifted her thigh, hitching it around his hip, needing to get as close as humanly possible. She yanked at his shirt and he heard it rip, pulling roughly against his shoulder. Breaking away from her kiss breathlessly, he pulled back and wrenched his shirt over his head, throwing it to the floor. Her hands immediately sought the expanse of skin on his chest and he brushed his fingers over the fly of her jeans.

He needed nothing more than to feel every inch of her bare skin pressing against his. His lips moved back to her neck to that spot below her ear and she whimpered, her nails digging into his sides as he laved at it with his tongue. Unpracticed fingers struggled with the button of her fly before crudely ripping it open with a rough and desperate tug. The zip took less than half a second. When he slid his hand down the front of her jeans, denim scraping the back of his hand, a coarse groan spilled from his lips.

It never ceased to amaze him how wet and hot she felt against his fingers – how tight she was when he pressed them inside her, making her arch against him with a shuddering gasp.

Slowly, he pushed her jeans down over her hips and she kicked them off, sending her shoes with them. Her hand crept around his hip to grab his arse, his aching cock slid against her stomach through the fabric of his bottoms. He bit his lip at the contact. Daphne moved her hand away and he heard her whisper the contraceptive spell – she always liked to use his wand for that. It fell to the floor with a dull thud.

Harry leaned down to kiss her briefly before lifting her shirt over her head. He pressed against her then, relishing in the feel of so much soft skin against his. Daphne lifted herself up, hands gripping his shoulders – legs wrapping around his waist. Moving his hands to her arse, he balanced her weight against the door, rubbing against her centre. She had teased him enough, now it was his turn.

He dipped his hand in between them and sought her clit, rubbing lightly – and then lighter and lighter till he was barely touching her. Needy, anguished gasps and sounds flowed from her mouth.

“Please, Harry…” Daphne breathed, trailing off into a loud moan as he removed his hand and rubbed himself against her over and over again. Fucking hell. He felt her wetness seeping through his pyjama bottoms.

Hastily, her fingers delved into the waistband of his bottoms and he slowed as she slid the waistband down over his cock. Harry’s eyes met hers, his glasses askew, her eyes wide and pleading. “Fuck me,” she whispered, her voice ragged, and his answering moan rumbled deep in his throat.

That was yet another weakness that made him even more painfully desperate.

Without an ounce of thought, he thrust inside her, burying himself to the root, stretching her. It was like sinking into a hot wet dream of absolution: no Malfoy, no Voldemort, no prophesy, no high expectations. Harry sunk into a world where nothing existed except him and Daphne and this incredible need – this unbelievable feeling. He pulled nearly all the way out before slamming back into her and she let out a moan that sounded closer to a shriek.

She looked exquisite. Her eyes were drunk and lidded and focused on him; her cheeks were stained with a bright flush; her lips swollen and red, begging to be ravished; her body spread out beneath him, wrapped around him, and so much closer to him than anyone had ever gotten before.

Daphne’s fingers wound into his hair, her fingernails massaging, pulling him closer to crush her mouth against his. Her jagged, breathy, whimpers against his lips compelled Harry to quicken his pace, finding the perfect rhythm – dying to make her come undone around him. Her body trembled against him, pulling him closer and closer – warm and flushed slick skin on skin – their bodies rippling against each other with every breath – with every thrust of his hips. Harry felt her heels dig into his back adamantly and he thrust deeper inside her than he thought possible.

His name poured from her lips as he moved his mouth to her throat, sucking a hot wet trail up the side of her neck. Daphne often left marks – she had a thing for it – and he couldn’t help but return the favour with interest. The moment he felt her pulse around him, deliciously throbbing around his cock, he thought he’d lose it right there, but it was much too soon. He moaned roughly against her, his legs struggling to balance her weight against the door.

But Harry kept his pace. Clenching his eyes shut, he focused on the soft smooth skin of her neck beneath his lips, trying not to think of just how deep he was buried; how wet and tight and so bloody amazing she felt. Her trembling cries rang in his ears – his name rolled off her tongue in a way that made his heart thump agonizingly against his chest.

“God, Daphne,” he murmured breathlessly into her ear before his lips ghosted over her earlobe. He nipped at it, earning a whimper. She was so fucking maddening. Every single noise that escaped her – every gasp and sigh – seemed to caress his skin, warm and tingly like static burns. The feeling collected in the centre, pooling at the base of his cock and aching frenziedly.

Her cunt clenched around him, tighter and tighter, urging him to come. Fraught with need, he snaked his fingers down her stomach to her clit. Daphne keened loudly at the friction. He could feel every pulse, every clench of her cunt, against the tips of his fingers and around his as he stroked her.

He knew she was close again.

The aching was about to burst and shatter. Not caring about rhythm, he thrust inside her, needing release right now. The need clawed at his senses – he yearned to feel her dissolve around him once more before he came. Panting, his jaw clenched as he tried to hold back, he nearly growled into her ear, “Come. Now.”

She screamed.

Fuck. If he knew it was that simple, he would have done that a long bloody time ago.

He tried to keep his eyes open, watching her, fighting as they involuntarily shut as he spilled inside her – her walls caressing every last inch him, pleading for the last drop.

They collapsed against each other and fell into a boneless heap on the floor. He didn’t realize how hot and stifling the cupboard felt until he opened his eyes and his brain crept its way back into his head. Daphne clutched at him and he held her, trying to catch his breath. He couldn’t believe his luck as he stared at the girl in his arms. How in the world could it feel this amazing every single time? It was… perfect. Too perfect.

Daphne’s blue eyes met his and she smiled, detangling herself from him a bit. “Remind me to run into you more often,” she said, her breathing still a bit harsh.

Harry grinned. “As long as you remind me to thank Fred and George.”

“Oh, I’ll be thanking them with you.” She pulled back and rested herself against the door. It felt oddly cold without her so close. “So the infamous invisibility cloak returns,” Daphne mused, staring at the shiny fabric peeking through their piled clothes. “Did you enchant it yourself?”

Pulling up his pyjama bottoms, Harry said, “It was my dad’s.”

“It’s nice.” Daphne paused, her eyes running over his bare chest and back up to his face. She was about to say more but there was a noise from outside the door, like footsteps, pacing on the stone floor. “Did you cast a silencing spell?” she whispered.

Harry’s mouth fell open. “No,” he breathed, focusing on the footsteps. The corner of a piece of raggedy parchment was peeking out from underneath his invisibility cloak. He swiftly pulled it out from underneath to check and see who was out there.

Daphne watched him, remaining very silent and still.

When he saw who it was, he blew a sigh of relief. “It’s just Hermione.”

“Well, that’s awkward,” Daphne muttered, standing up to put her clothes back on and cast a few cleaning spells. Harry followed suit, hoping that Hermione wouldn’t scold them too much. Or give them detention – she was quite the stickler for rules and maintaining her prefect status.

“What is that thing anyway?” Daphne asked, gesturing to the piece of parchment in his hands as she hurriedly tugged her jeans over her hips.

Harry shifted on his feet and distracted himself by picking up his invisibility cloak. “It’s a map of the school,” he replied quietly.

Her brow creased in the centre. “And it shows you where people are?”

“Yes.”

He looked up at her to see that she had an oddly excited glint in her eyes. “Brilliant. I would have never thought of making something like that – had to take ages.”

“I didn’t make it,” Harry countered sheepishly. “Another thing of my dad’s.”

“Ah well, it’s still bloody brilliant.” Daphne paused and looked him up and down before reaching over to straighten the hem of his shirt. “Are you ready?”

The footsteps sounded even louder and more exasperated than before. “I s’pose.”

Sharing a quick glance, Daphne opened the door.

Hermione was standing in the middle of the corridor doing her best expression of McGonagall and Molly Weasley combined. “Have you two ever heard of silencing spells? I could hear you from the Head’s office!”

Harry’s eyebrows rose. Considering that the Head’s office was nearly half way across the castle, that was pretty bloody impressive. He didn’t think they were… that loud. Daphne looked rather unfazed and maybe just a touch pleased at this information. If the circumstances were a bit different – if it wasn’t after curfew and if their relationship wasn’t secret – Harry probably would have laughed at the awkwardness of the situation.

“Sorry about that,” he apologized with a small, and very brief, embarrassed grin.

“I should give you two detention!” Hermione threatened, waving her hands in the air – bright red sparks flew out her wand as she did.

“Go ahead, Granger,” Daphne intoned with a smirk, “it was certainly worth it.”

He had to bite his lip to keep from laughing at the expression on Hermione’s face. Harry could have sworn that her eye twitched for a second. Hermione’s teeth mashed together audibly as a deep blush settled about her cheeks. She really was overreacting. “You-” she stabbed her finger at Daphne, advancing on her, “-are – a – very – bad – influence!”

Harry looked back and forth between the girls, all signs of laughter gone from his face. Daphne must have taken lessons from Zabini, because she was the absolute picture of indifference. “It’s not like I try,” she responded.

Hermione let out a frustrated sigh. “Smoking, shagging in broom cupboards after curfew! What’s next?”

“Sneaking out of the castle for a weekend on the town, illegal recreational drugs, defiling Snape’s office, shagging in the middle of the Great Hall during breakfast-” Daphne paused her sarcastic tirade, smiling, “the list could go on.”

Snorting in amusement, Harry covered it up with a cough under Hermione’s stern gaze. “And what do you have to say about this?”

Harry shrugged a shoulder. “Nothing really, I think she covered it all.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, looking up at an indiscernible place above their heads. “Just-” she gritted out, inhaling loudly through her nose, her nostrils flared, “-go back to your dormitories before I change my mind.”

Knowing not to look a gift horse in the mouth, Harry grabbed Daphne’s hand. “Thanks, Hermione,” he said quickly before retreating down the corridor toward the stairway with Daphne in tow.

At the landing of the divide of the stairs, he paused, turning toward Daphne. They both broke out in quiet laughter, mostly out of relief in getting away with it or embarrassment. “Well that was fun,” Daphne commented.

“I’ll probably never hear the end of it, but yeah.”

They stared at each other and Daphne moved forward to give him a quick kiss. “I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow. Blaise and I are working on the Draco situation, so I’ll send you a letter if we get something.”

Harry nodded in agreement but, when she made to leave, he stopped her. “Wait - what were you doing flying around the school?”

“Racing,” Daphne said with a smirk. “I was ahead too, until I ran into you.”

“I can’t say I’m sorry.” He really wanted to kiss her again before she had to go. That would be a much better apology.

Harry slowly moved forward, but the sound of footsteps approaching interrupted him.

“I should go – I doubt Granger will let us off so easily if she catches us loitering on the stairs.” Daphne paused. “Goodnight,” Daphne said, throwing him a smile before she pivoted on her feet to descend the five flights of stairs to the dungeons.

“Goodnight…” Harry watched her contentedly until she disappeared around the corner, his heart feeling lighter than it had ever felt in the last few weeks.