Man in the Moon

By cloneserpents

Standard Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all characters are property of J K Rowling, Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury Books, Arthur A. Levine Books, Raincoast Books, Scholastic publishing, et al, and are used without permission. This work was written purely for noncommercial entertainment; no money is being made.

Description: Luna seeks company on a lonely night. Completed one-shot dark story with a touch of Lemon.

The peals of laughter and distorted sounds of conversation from the large and jubilant gathering in a flat above Diagon Alley caught her attention. The sounds of life drew her, like a moth to the flame. People were so full of life when they were at a fun party, and that feeling of life attracted Luna.

As she entered the flat, she found it packed full of witches and wizards having a merry time. The party was clearly a resounding success. The man who must've been the host was rapidly bouncing between his guests with a happy and proud smile on his face. When he greeted Luna, the blonde could detect a touch of embarrassment to his voice: clearly, he didn't recognize her. But party decorum prohibited him from admitting aloud that he was unfamiliar with one of his guests, so he told Luna to enjoy herself before dashing away to say hello to another person. The host didn't have time to realize the reason he didn't remember Luna's name was that he had never met her before, that she had invited herself.

The guests had divvied themselves into smaller groups, as people tend to do at parties. These different groups were involved in conversations varying from politics, to entertainment, to sports and other social topics. None of these subjects or their participants interested Luna. Such things were inconsequential to her; she always had been bored by them. So she did not bother to join in.

Then again, she didn't invite herself to this gathering for the conversation. She came here to feel alive. Even though the noise of the party had drawn her in, talking and laughing with these people wasn't enough for Luna, and she knew it. She needed something more tangible than idle talk, and she set out to find it.

One by one, Luna took in the different guests. Silently judging the men to see if any had what it took to make her feel alive. She had become quite skilled at finding the right person. But then again, she had gained a great amount of practice at it. She gauged them not only by their physical traits which sometimes hinted at their performance, but also by their smiles. A genuine smile meant so much: it told Luna that the person was bristling with life. Luna also judged their beauty. After all, the experience wouldn't be completely enjoyable if the person she would select was unattractive.

It took little time for her to find him: a tall, handsome man with a Romanesque nose, chiseled chin and acres of flesh and muscles. She could tell that this man was just brimming with life; it was practically pulsing under his skin. He was talking to some brunette by the fireplace. Not only did he have the genuine smile that Luna craved, but the man had a hungry look in his eyes. This dark look would either warn or welcome a woman depending if she was willing or not. And that dark, hungry look welcomed Luna. It was only a minor complication that those hungry eyes were currently focused on another woman.

With a subtle yet purposeful intent, Luna walked by the man, her slender shoulder barely gracing his arm. But Luna knew that this simple action would be enough. As she continued to stroll out of the room and onto the flat's deck, Luna could feel his eyes on her. She could sense them following her bottom as it swished back and forth with each step. Right then, Luna could almost hear the man's brain trying to formulate a plan on how to politely excuse himself from his conversation with the brunette so he could follow the striking blonde.

The patio deck was empty; everyone had sought protection from the cold night air inside the flat. The chill didn't bother Luna much anymore. No longer did it give her goose-flesh. She sometimes missed that biting sensation where her nose would turn red and her lips would shiver.

As she waited for the man she selected to join her, Luna gazed up at the moon. It was full that night and washed her in its silvery glow.

The Man in the Moon always looked so sad to Luna. She half wondered if he was depressed because of the pain and suffering he witnessed on the Earth below. Did all the grand wars and small, personal strife that occurred nightly make him so blue?

"Hey there," the man Luna chose greeted her, finally joined her on the deck. "Aren't you cold?"

"I was just thinking about that a moment ago," she replied without answering. Her wide eyes were still fixed on the moon over head as she introduced herself: "My name is Luna."

"That's a pretty name," the man said, standing very close to her.

"I was born on a lunar eclipse," Luna explained, still gazing up at her silvery namesake. She could feel the man's body heat; she wanted to run her hands over his broad chest so that she could feel his warmth. "My father thought it appropriate to name me after the moon."

"Really?" the nameless man asked.

"No, but it does sound romantic," she said evenly. "And since the world is so dreary, it helps to view things romantically, don't you think?"

"Yes, we need more romance in the world," he said, hungrily eyeing the pale flesh exposed by her plunging neckline. "By the way, I'm –"

"Tonight, you're Harry," she said, turning to him. "I've always liked the name Harry."

Lost in her eyes, the man said, "Honey, I'll be anyone you want."

"Life is too short, Harry," she said, easily and naturally calling him by the name she had dictated. The man looked nothing like Harry. However, the real Harry had made such an impact on her life that she felt compelled to use his name whenever she had the chance, as a way of honoring her special friend.

"And since life is short, I feel that polite niceties are a wasteful use of our precious time," Luna continued. "That being the case, why don't we just cut the idle chitchat and go back to your place. I know I said that the world needs more romance and you agreed, but I find you striking and I want to ride you."

The man looked as if he had just won the lottery. With a grin that threatened to split his face wide open, he replied, "I live just around the corner. We can be there in a snap."

"Let's walk, shall we? I get nauseous using the floo," Luna said, wrapping her arm around his. "Besides, I love the moon, and walking under it will help me get in the mood."

"Anything you say, beautiful," the nameless man said, leading her back through the flat.

"Oh, 'beautiful' am I? What a wonderful thing to say," cooed Luna, as they walked like a couple through the flat, unnoticed by the various groups of people they passed. "If I hadn't already made up my mind to bed you, I'm certain that would've won me over."

The man struggled to retain his cool composure. But the glint in his eyes betrayed him. Given the chance, Luna was certain that the man would boast to his friends with something along the lines of "You blokes won't believe what happened to me." She knew the type. The man would brag and embellish the tale, spinning yarns about how he had spotted a beautiful blonde standing in the corner of the room and how he had wooed her effortlessly. Even if he wasn't this type, which Luna doubted, he still would brag about how lucky he was to stumble across such a woman like she. The nameless man didn't have the slightest clue that Luna had selected him and allowed him to believe that he had made the first move, just as she had intended.

Once out of the flat and on the street, the man asked, "Would you like my traveling cloak? It is rather cold tonight."

"Thank you, but no," Luna said without looking at her companion. Her eye had been caught by the moon once more. It was so beautiful and sad at the same time. Much like she was. The blonde realized with a sort of absolute finality that she had much more in common with the moon than shared names.

After a few steps, the man spoke, "I used to date this Muggle-born witch a few years back. She wore this body cream; it made her skin sparkle. Are you wearing it now?" The lapse in conversation had clearly taken its toll on the man and he struggled to break the awkward silence.

"Does my skin sparkle?" she asked, fighting her boredom that was endangering the situation. After all, Luna hadn't selected the man for his conversational skills or lack there of. But she had to keep her interest in the man; otherwise this night would be for naught. Luna knew that it could all be over in the blink of an eye if she wanted to be. But she didn't want that to happen. She wanted and needed to savor every moment of this encounter.

"No, not sparkle, but it's kind of..." he said, struggling to find the proper words while his eyes were firmly fixed on the area of exposed skin just below Luna's collarbone, hoping to catch a sight of cleavage. "I guess its glowing, you can say."

"Another word you could use is luminescent," informed Luna.

"Yeah, that's it."

"To answer your question, no I'm not wearing anything," she continued. "It's just the way I am. The moon, my dear friend in the sky, brings it out in me."

The moon had been there, that night Hogwarts fell. It hung high in the sky, looking down at the carnage below. Had the Man in the Moon's sad frown worsened that night? Luna hadn't recalled. It was a lifetime ago, or so it seemed.

She looked at the nameless man she was calling Harry and let her mind wander back to the real Harry. He was such a brave, valiant and noble boy. During their brief friendship, Luna had grown to admire that boy for his courage. And seeing that she had been a teenaged girl at that time, she had easily grown enamored with him. It was the natural thing to do for a girl like her. He was so roguishly handsome with his easy smile, devil-may-care hair, and soulful eyes. But she had never acted on those desires out the awkwardness that plagued all teenage children and, also, for respect for their friendship. Well, she never acted intentionally.

"Here we are," the nameless man announced gesturing to the entrance of a building.

Luna did not bother to take in the building or its surroundings. Tonight was all about the man she had selected and feeling alive. Nothing else really mattered.

The man led her up a flight of stairs and into his flat. Luna closed the door and headed straight to the window across the room. As she closed the shades, the man asked, "What, are you afraid that someone's gonna see us?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes, I am," she replied. "A sudden realization came to me as we walked here; the Man in the Moon has seen so much and I didn't want to burden him with what will happen tonight."

Before he could register Luna's odd comment, she pounced on the nameless man. Her lips met his and crushed them. The small woman wrapped her arms and legs around the man and hoisted herself up bit by bit, as if she was climbing a hill, until she was propped on top of his shoulders. Her tongue rolled around in his mouth and along the inside of his teeth.

The man pulled away. Licking up the string of spit that still connected their lips, he exclaimed; "Merlin, you're cold! It's like snogging an ice-cube."

"Then warm me up, Harry," she breathed out. "Make me burn."

The man was about to grant Luna's wish when he stopped. He knitted his brow and looked at the woman's face in confusion. "Blimey, how old are you? You look like a ruddy kid! How the hell didn't I notice it before?"

"I'm old enough to know what you want," Luna said, sliding one hand down and between their bodies to cup his groin and the growing organ trapped in his trousers.

"I'm not gonna have the authorities breaking down my door for what we're gonna do here, am I?" he asked, half nervous, half excited over the prospect and promise that was wrapped around him.

"If they do, it won't be because I look younger than I am," Luna said, taking his lower lip between hers and sucking.

"Just tell me how old you are. I don't think I can go through shagging you if I wasn't sure you were older than sixteen," he insisted, despite the eager pleas of his own body to give in to desire.

"I'm over forty if that makes you feel better," she said and squeezed his manhood once more.

"Good enough for me," he said, not caring nor listening to her words, just happy to be given an excuse. The blonde's young appearance was an illicit thrill that made him all the more willing. It always did for every man Luna chose. The man kissed her hard. "You're already starting to warm up."

"You see, Harry, I knew you could do it," Luna said, releasing her grip and sliding off the taller man. She knelt and said, "Now let's get me hot."

Looking up at the man's face, Luna deftly unclasped his trousers and pulled out his manhood. He titled his head back and let the ecstasy of her mouth wash over him.

"Look at me, Harry," she bade and ran her tongue up his length. She absorbed his warmth through her mouth and ordered, "Watch me." She worked on him and he watched her. Her small fingers pulled his foreskin back exposing his spongy crown and allowed her to roll her tongue over and around his head. She opened her mouth and slid his manhood in. The organ moved in and out of her mouth. It pushed against her tongue and at the insides of her cheeks. She tasted him and basked in his heat. Luna's saliva, which was once cold as her kiss, had quickly warmed due to the man's own heat. In a short matter of time, the man was fully aroused.

"Now it's my turn," Luna said, standing before the man.

The man, whoever he was, knew what he was doing. He took his time, slowly pulling open her robes, kissing, licking, and sucking her neck before inching down to her bare breasts. But even with his slow and deliberate pace, Luna was naked, spread open on the floor with his face between her thighs soon enough. He wasn't the best she ever had, that distinction went to another nameless man she had called Harry when she was in Prague, but this one was good. His fingers and tongue were put to good use.

"That's it, Harry, make me feel it," she moaned out while the man gently suckled on her sensitive bud and slid two fingers in and out of her wet folds. "Do it harder! Faster!"

Even after she had climaxed, the man continued his work, much to Luna's pleasure. Tiny beads of sweat trickled off of her slender frame and her nipples stood tall and hard. Her fingers dug into his hair and thighs pressed against his head. "Make me cum again, Harry. Make me cum!"

When it hit her the second time, her whole body tingled. A loud, rumbling moan that started in the pit of her belly, clawed up her throat and burst from her lips.

"I need you in me, Harry," she said. Luna had said this exact phrase to countless men she had named Harry for their brief encounter over the years. Somehow, it wasn't right not to honor Harry, the boy who had been so special to her, in this manner.

Like a wild animal, Luna tore off the man's remaining clothes and tossed the shreds to the side.

"Damn but you're a twisted one," the man commented with a joyous smile.

Luna pushed the man onto his back and straddled him. She reached down and took hold of him, her small hand curled around his shaft. Slowly, she began to lower herself. His crown pushed into her sensitive and tender lips, spreading them apart. Holding the tip of her tongue between her teeth, she continued to slide down his organ, forcing it deep inside her. Finally, when his hairs intertwined in hers, Luna ground her hips, causing the organ buried in her to stretch her out even more.

"Gods, Harry, you feel so good in me," she purred out. Luna cupped her own breasts and contracted her inner walls around him. The delicious feeling of her wrapped firmly around him made her belly tighten. While continuing this delicate grip, Luna began to slowly lift up, gently, but exquisitely tugging on his organ.

"Fuck," he groaned out. "Damn it, Luna, you're good."

"If I'm not the best fuck of your life, I will be the most noteworthy," she said throatily. Luna relaxed her muscles before lowering herself, pushing his rod deep inside once again.

For several minutes, Luna repeated this process; grabbing him and pulling up, relaxing and pushing down over and over. In a short amount of time, another orgasm struck Luna as she was pulling up. Then, after her cry of ecstasy ended, the man's complexion became flush. His skin burned a bright crimson.

This was why she did this. This man was alive and she could feel it through their connected bodies. She placed her hands on him, one on his chest over his heart, the other gently on his neck. Not only could she feel his heat, but Luna also felt his pulse and heartbeat.

As if someone had fired a starting pistol, Luna's pace leapt from a slow measured crawl to nearly a blur of motion. Her skin rapidly and repeatedly slapped against his. The man's organ was moving like a piston inside of her, thrusting and pumping. Her sweat rained down on him.

"Oh, Merlin, if you keep this up, I'm gonna cum real quick," the man groaned out after a few moments. "Slow down a bit, baby."

"Need to feel you," she said bluntly, continuing her frenzied and frantic motion. "Have to feel alive."

He was twitching inside her. The man's body was warning her he was close. His heart and pulse were thundering under her palms. Luna reared her head back, preparing for what was about to happen.

With her eyes closed, Luna plunged her face down towards the man's neck. The moment he began to cum, her sharp teeth tore through his flesh and ripped into his jugular. Her mouth was filled with his hot, sweet, coppery blood as he sprayed his seed into her sex.

It was so very much like an orgasm, but much better. His warm blood filled her. Her once still heart beat with in her breast as the nameless man's lifeblood flowed through her veins. She was alive. It was more powerful than any drug. This feeling was her only reason to go on, night after night. Luna needed to have this sensation of life flowing through her dead body. And she loved it.

The man tried vainly to buck her off, but this just caused his organ to push further into her. He launched another stream into her womb involuntarily as she gulped down mouthfuls of blood. He tried to push at her, but she was latched onto him like a tick on a dog.

The man screamed in agony as Luna's teeth ripped at his neck again, tearing the wound wider. Even more blood rushed into her mouth. The blonde hungrily gulped it down as quickly as she could. Despite her best efforts to swallow all of the hot blood, some of it sprayed out of the sides of her mouth, coating her face, neck, and bosom.

As if it knew its fate, the man's loins emptied themselves into Luna. A base and primal part of him was struggling to stay alive any way it could and escape the dying vessel that was his body.

Gulping the man's lifeblood, Luna's mind wandered back to that fateful night so many years ago that Hogwarts fell. How giants had brought down the ancient walls of the castle as if they were a child's toy, and crushed wizards and witches, adults and children alike, under their feet. How the werewolves tore people to bloody pieces while Dementors sucked out others' souls. How Death Eaters and You Know Who tortured and killed their targets with their dark magic. But there was another group on You Know Who's side that night. Unlike the giants, werewolves, Dementors and Death Eaters, this other group wasn't accustomed to the chaos of all out war. Their nature was to lurk in the shadows, seizing one victim at a time, not the massive, chaotic attack that occurred that night. Most of this group had fled rather than risk themselves. A few however, didn't want to leave empty handed. Unfortunately, Luna had been chosen by on of them that horrible night. It dragged her off into the Forbidden Forest, kicking and screaming. Harry, the valiant and brave boy he was, had vanquished Luna's attacker. Unfortunately, it had taken some time for Harry to find her and he arrived too late to save her completely.

With the nameless man's slowing pulse, his blood no longer flowed into her mouth like a gushing fountain. So Luna forced her face and mouth into the wide gash she had inflicted and sucked hard, forcibly pulling out his blood. The hot liquid dripped down her face and into her hair. When he began to grow cold under her, Luna removed herself from the man.

Luna flopped onto the floor and continued to bask in the gift her temporary Harry had given her. Her hands pressed against her gore covered bosom and she felt her heart beat. The cold night air nipped at her and made her flesh prickle. The nameless man's blood flowed through her, making her feel alive, not the dead mockery she had become.

The first time she had experienced this intoxicating combination of sexual ecstasy and life had been an accident. Acting on some animalistic instinct, Luna had mounted the real Harry and rode him shortly after he had vanquished the beast that had dragged her into the Forest. Harry, that noble boy, had been shocked by her actions. He had struggled against her, not in fear, but because he had thought it wrong and that even though she had been the one to initiate their coupling, Harry felt he was using the girl. But Luna, with her new strength held Harry fast and she impaled herself on him. Just as he reached his climax, her new grown fangs had torn into his neck. That moment was the first time her heart beat since her change, and it was thrilling. The feeling of life coursing through her body chased away any regret or guilt she could have felt for poor, sweet, honorable Harry. She had learned very quickly after that first time that the wondrous sensation of life was short lived. Her heart had stopped beating a few moments after Harry's did.

The next night, when she had repeated the same action on an unsuspecting young wizard – maybe Ronald or Neville; Luna couldn't recall – the thrill of life had not been as intense as it had been with Harry. She had felt her dead heart beat with the forgotten wizard's blood, but the moment had not moved her as Harry's blood had. Luna knew that she and Harry had shared something special the night previously because Harry, himself, was truly special. His bravery and kindness had been the extra spark that had made the experience so wonderful.

Being the logical and studious Ravenclaw that she was, Luna set out to test this theory regarding Harry the following night. Luna had randomly selected man in a pub and called him Harry. Just as she had hoped, the same thrill she had felt with the real Harry had returned. Her dear friend's memory had brought the thrill she had so desired.

But it was more than just the recollection of the moment she shared with Harry that had brought her to the heights of ecstasy. It wasn't just that Harry had made her a woman. It was the act of remembering what a good friend Harry was that made the feeling of life that much more intense. The friendship that Harry had shown Luna had helped her find happiness and exquisite joy that night like it had the first time, passing as it may have been.

She swore that night that not only would she use Harry's name and memory to heighten her experience, she would also honor Harry's friendship by naming everyone she used to bring life, even so fleeting a semblance of life, back into her after that brave boy. In a way, Harry was still with her. Through these nightly acts of calling another man by his name, she was keeping her friend alive, if only for a brief moment each night. His memory has been the only constant in Luna's lonely life and she cherished him for it.

Unfortunately for Luna, the sensation of life never lasted long in her body, a few minutes at the most. she had quickly realized that she had to revel in this glorious feeling as much as she could for that too brief time. It had become a habit of hers to lie on the floor and concentrate on the life in her body as whatever person she had named Harry that night died. And that is what she did in that nameless man's flat, she focused her mind on his warm blood as it flowed through her body and the sound and feeling of her heart once again beating. Soon, however, her own pulse would slow and then stop completely.

Even as the nameless man stopped breathing, Luna's pulse weakened. Regrettably, she knew from experience it would stop soon; she'd be dead once again. And she would long and yearn for it to beat again. But it would have to wait until the following night when she found her next Harry. It had become a ritual of sorts for her.

Luna stood and made her way into the man's shower. She meticulously cleaned herself, washing away his now cold blood from her face and neck as well of the sex and aftereffects of their lovemaking. This was part of her nightly ritual that she didn't like. The blood and sex made her look pretty, she thought, and to wash it away was the improper thing to do. What she wanted was to parade around and show all that saw her just how beautiful she truly was. But Luna was no fool. To do such a thing would draw attention and endanger her.

Stepping over the bloodless corpse, Luna retrieved her clothes and dressed. Once she was presentable, the blonde made her way out of the flat.

The Man in the Moon was still hanging over head, watching. And Luna realized that he was always there, even if she couldn't see him. She knew the Man in the Moon was watching over her, like a friend. He had been her constant companion over the many years. Like Harry had in a fashion. Luna came to a decision to honor the Man in the Moon just as she honored Harry. The next night, Luna would not close the curtains; she would let the Man in the Moon watch as she paid homage to Harry and as life flowed through her. Friends did such things for one another after all.