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Comfort	By : WittchWay Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 7455 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Comfort
- 1
Warning: slash, m/m R-NC17 This sort of a PWP Pairing: Arthur Weasley/ Harry Potter, Disclaimer: Don't own HP characters just borrowing.

Comfort
By WittchWay

Arthur's POV

The Dursley's are dead. Harry stood by the tree in the front yard at #4 Privet drive, head in his hands, rocking slightly on the heels of his feet. He griped the tree every once in a while holding onto it to balance himself. Other wizards and witches pass by him as tears streak down his face. They glance in his general direction yet none go to him, no one speaks to him. He is after all the boy who lived. He is the savior of the wizard world, he's strong, he's man many battles before and this one isn't even over.

He is trying to control himself, to hide the fact that the muggles he hated, muggles he despised, don't matter to him, he's failing at his attempt to regain his composure. It doesn't matter now that they were cruel to him, or treated him badly they were all he had left in the world. One of the few links he had to family and to his parents. He's trying to control all thoughts and all reasoning of Voldemort. He drops to his knees still no one goes to him. He's resting his head against the tree, his wand lay on the ground besides him forgotten. His owl drops to the ground next to him. I stand there listening to Dumbledore trying to organize our next move, where we should go next, what our next tactic is. I have no Idea what he is saying, all I can do is stare at the child on the ground. He's in pain and there is no one left to comfort him, others are starring at him then they hide their eyes in shame.

I strode across the yard, over the ash and fires that are coming from the house and gather in him my arms. I leave Dumbledore in mid conversation. Harry collapses in my arms, his head against my chest, my god people can't you see he's just a boy, a child. I hold him in my arms, Dumbledore comes and stands next to me, "Arthur," I look up at him, "We've located Voldemort, we are going to go check out some information, will you take him back to the school". I nod gathering the boy closer to me. I don't questions Dumbledore's method to his face, but I never agree with it. He thinks it will make the child stronger, he thinks Harry will grow from this experience, that he needs to understand and I agree to a point.

Yes, he needs to understand, he needs to be aware of the fight, of what he is fighting for but he is just a child thrusted into a life he did not ask for. Ripped from parents he doesn't remember, from a life that could have been. I pull the portkey from my pocket and I tapped it once with my wand, shortly thereafter Harry and I appear at the burrow. Yes I went against Dumbledore's orders, Harry needs to be in a familiar surrounding, with close friends. I hug him to my chest whispering "it will all be all right". For once I'm thankful the house is empty. He follows me upstairs towards my youngest son Ron's room. I just wanted to get him tucked into bed, set and comfortable before the commotion of the house returns and erupt around us.

Ron's room is a mess, he has books and papers scattered about, clothes thrown on the floor and bed, a disturbing smell of rotting food is hiding some where in the room. Harry looked at the mess, shrugged his shoulders and started to clean off the bed. I'm sure he was use to this type of thing with those muggles, but he deserves better than this, "Don't Harry" I whispered at him.

I held his hand leading him down the hall, unknowingly to the mess that is Fred and George's room, we stand there in the doorway to their room, something is fizzing in the back corner. I didn't even want to know what it is. Percy's room was out of the question, he had work and truth be told I didn't want to deal with him if I had let Harry sleep in his room. Ginny's room is pink and filled with teddy bears and pictures of Harry from the Daily Prophet taped to the wall, Harry wouldn't be comfortable in there, he does not need to be reminded of who he is at this moment.

The only room left was the one I share with my wife. I lead him there, he is exhausted. The room is over cast with the setting sun and rain clouds that are forming. I see him looking around, I'm slightly proud of my bedroom set, it's one of the few things that distinguish us as an old wizard family. Many generations of Weasley's have slept here and been born here. It was one of those things I hope to hand down to my own children.

Harry sat on the edge of the bed, for the first time I noticed the blood on his shirt, speckled like an ostrich egg, "lets get you out of that," I gesture innocently my goal to get him into clean clothes and away from all the dirt and smudges of the morning. I search around in my closet for anything muggle and clean finally I hand him a fresh T-shirt from my closet, it says London on the front. He slipped his old shirt over his head, there's burn mark on his shoulder, battle marks already at such a young age.

I touched the scar against his pale skin, he flinched away from my touch, 'sorry' I whisper going to the bathroom and returned with a sab that will hopefully easy the pain. I message it into his cut, sitting on the bed next to him, hoping this would heal it, it was quite deep. I worked the lotion over his shoulder, dabbing lightly on other areas across his chest that had the same marks, then on his back. I got up and put the jar on the dresser he was slipping his shirt back on when I turned around, he slid back on the bed, a slight dazed look on his face.

He fumbled with the laces on his shoes, I take his foot in my hand and slide his shoe off with easy. He sank back on the bed, I patted that unruly hair, petting the boy who lived, the rain started making the room even darker, it was light and soothing in a way. "It's ok", I whispered at him as if it was ok, it's seems to have become my motto today, I want to reassure him, but I feel I am failing in a sense. He grasped my hand, "Mr. Weasley...could you sit with me a minute." His eyes were sorrowful, so sad, I would never say no to a child. I went to sit on the edge of the bed but he scooted over enabling me to lie next to him. I had just planed on sitting next to him, like a father would any child, but when he scooted over. When he patted the bed next to him, I did what I would have if he were my child, I crawled into bed next to him.

He was in my arms minutes later, crying softly into my chest, I held him saying my mantra for the day "it would be ok". I don't know for whom I was saying this for, him or I. I wanted to brush away the insanity of this life, the craziness that should never befall a child. I held him, it was all I could do and he fell asleep, I dozed for a few moments myself, but his nightmares woke me each time. He shifted in his sleep, crying out in pain, I held him to me. Wishing for him it would be okay, I kissed the top of his head innocently, I soothed him, rubbing a single finger against his cheek. It was all I could do.

He relaxed in my arms, evening settled upon us, darker shadows crept across the room, the rain grew more intense, thunder in the distance, lighting sent crackles of electricity across the room. Wind whipped along the seems of the rooftop, I held him tighter, as if he was scared, as if I was scared, and perhaps I was. It was some time before I realized that he was awake, just lying there letting me hold him. I kissed the top of his head again. "Harry you hungry," he nodded, but made no move to get up. His head rested on my chest, his hand on my hip his thumb rubbing in small movement I hadn't at first noticed.

He looked up into my eyes "thank you Mr. Weasley, for everything," he whispered, I realized he had barely spoken all day. I went to kiss the top of his head again, to bring some comfort to him, to me but he tilted his chin up and I caught him on the lips. Whether he did it deliberately or not I don't know. I do know that once I tasted those lips I could not stop. He opened his mouth willingly to me, my tongue exploring a young innocent's mouth. He was sweet like he had just eaten chocolates moments before, a tinge of guilt coursed through me that this was wrong. I tried to justify that we both needed comfort in this time. I wanted to be gentle with him, I never thought it would lead to where it did. I just thought that we would make out a little, have a tender moment, something secret between us.

I would stop at any moment he wanted, but he didn't want that. He wanted rough hands, he wanted to be hurt, he wanted to throw all caution to the wind and be bad. He kissed me roughly on the lips, I kissed him back brutally. His hands in my hair, pulling at the clasps on my robes, he had them half way off before I even realized this was more than a make out session. I hadn't once tugged at his shirt or filtered a hand to his jeans, he was pressing me to do more, he wanted it now, he wanted all that I had wanted the first time I saw him as a twelve year old boy standing there shyly in my living room. But now it was different, he was a young man, near 17 years in age.

I shed him of his shirt, the clasp on his belt undone, I equaled him how, he had my robes off, I wore no shirt underneath, he was pulling on my belt. "Off" he growled, good god I almost came in my pants, the sound of his voice, rough, ragged, fury and pain filled it was beautiful. I traveled down his body to his nipple, I flicked the tip with my tongue, sucking it into my mouth, twirling it with my tongue, he in return bucked his hips into mine. I felt his erection through the thin fabric of his boxers, a powerful manhood I will not regret. I lost interest in his nipple as a result of this and freed him of his boxers. A sight I will never regret welcomed me, him fully erect, I traced one long finger over his prick letting my fingernail graze the tip slightly.

He moaned his wantoned desires to me. Precome leaked at the top sliding between my fingers, I took a small amount and slide it over my own erection, then on my lips and kissed him so he could taste himself. I could have played with him all evening. I could have explored every crevasses of his body, but he wanted more, he wanted it now. I reached for a tube of lubrication in the bedside drawer unscrewing the cap, 'no' he whispered "just you...nothing else".

I was shocked, "it'll hurt?" His eyes danced wildly "I know." He bucked his hips into mine again, who was I to argue.

I hadn't gone raw before, just the thought of it made me mad with desire, I kissed him again. His hands on me pulling me down, I covered his body with mine, rising his hips, one leg over my shoulder, I eased into him, slowly, feeling the contraction of his muscle against my own cock. I should have tried to loosen him up but it didn't occur to me at the time. I wanted to thrust into him like a mad man, to pound that precious ass hard. A savage, untamed, Harry was releasing in me all that I wanted. I had wanted to go slow, I had wanted to be gentle, I had wanted to make love to him, that's not how it happened, I lost control, perhaps that's what he was counting on, maybe that's what he wanted.

My thrust became wild and erratic. I bit him on the shoulder drawing blood, leg ang another battle scar, I tried to find a rhythm but his moans did nothing to slow me, if nothing else it made me crazed. I was delirious with my own needs. I griped his hips pulling them toward me not that I needed to he was equally thrusting them up to meet me.

He gasped not that I really noticed, I was digging deeper and deeper into him, he was becoming slick with the blood that was caused by the friction and roughness of my movements, sweat dripped from my brow, my mouth on his erect nipple, on his neck, on his lips. His nails scratched down my back, I repeatedly hit his prostate, he screamed in pleasure, with pain it was all the same now, as I hit that sweet spot again and again he contracted against me, that was all I need. I came inside him, he clench again and again over my cock.

I collapsed atop him still embedded in him, I bucked my hips every once in a while, as small spasm of orgasms coursed through my body. He wrapped his legs around me squeezing me into him. I could have stayed there all night embedded deep within him. The air around us was cold I was stuck to him, I pulled out of him, kissing him again on the lips, he bite my bottom lip pulling me back for more. I engulfed his erection in my mouth, it didn't take long, a few licks, nipples and a bite, his hands in my hair, a scream of pleasure of some mumbled name that may or not have been mine and his seed washed down my throat.

It may have been wrong or it may have been right, I don't really know. All I know is when Molly walked in, when she screamed in terror, when the twins ran upstairs to see what was wrong. When they shrieked, when they saw Harry, I thought I was going to die. We both jumped from the bed, I pulled my robes back on, Harry in his, in my, muggle shirt, Molly opened mouth gapping at us. I turned red from the tips of my toes to the very ends of my hair.

I wish I could tell you it had a happy ending, that Molly didn't throw me out, that things aren't tense between my children and I, that Harry wanted some deep and meaningful relationship but they aren't. I live at a small apartment in Diagon Alley, Harry is back at school and after nearly a year him and Ron have fallen back into their old patterns though at times things are a little strained between them. Harry had no interest in any thing more than a one nightstand and truth be told neither did I. I still have hope for Molly and I but I wouldn't say no to another one niter.

The End
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Comfort