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Hero Worship.	By : MerenwenFefalas Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 1390 -:- 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.

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Title: Hero Worship

Author: Sonja.

Pairing: Harry Potter/Zacharias Smith

Rating: Hard R.

Disclaimer: Everything herein is the property of JK Rowling. No profit is being made whatsoever.

Summary: He wouldn�t tell Harry how he dreamt of him when he slept at night. It was better this way.

Author�s Note: Wrotten for The Twelfth Night Exchange on LiveJournal.

Zacharias watched Harry from across the Room of Requirement as he helped Cho try to cast a Patronus. The girl was highly unsuccessful, which Zach supposed would be the case after having such a tragic last year. Except that Harry had had a tragic life, and he could cast a Patronus just fine.

Harry.

Zach watched as a little wisp of silver smoke came out of the end of Cho�s wand and she shook her head in frustration. Harry smiled encouragingly at her and told her to try again, to think of the happiest moment in her life. The fact that he was smitten with her was written plainly across his face. Harry wore his heart on his sleeve. Zach did not.

It had started at the first meeting of the DA, really. The first unofficial meeting, that was, there in the Hog�s Head that day, when Harry agreed to teach them what the Ministry refused to. Harry did wear his anger there on his sleeve, his frustration, and his disdain. He wore his emotions like a badge, but Zach kept his carefully hidden behind a fa�ade of smug superiority. He didn�t doubt for one second after that meeting that Voldemort was back. He didn�t doubt for one second that Harry wouldn�t fail them like he thought he�d failed Cedric. He would never tell Harry those things directly, because he mustn�t let his cool mask fall, he mustn�t.

He wouldn�t tell him that all the Hufflepuff loyalty or Ravenclaw logic or Gryffindor bravery in the world would not have saved Cedric. He wouldn�t tell him that had he been in Harry�s place, he surely would have run for his life and not stood and fought. And he wouldn�t tell Harry that after each meeting, he walked away with a little piece of Zach�s heart. And every time Harry looked at Cho like that, like he wanted to take her in his arms and kiss away all her pain and sorrow, the little piece of Zach�s heart was crushed into fine powder.

It didn�t bear thinking about, the way Harry fawned over the girl. The way he smiled at her and touched her arm, because if he thought about it too long, Zach would want to tell Harry how he felt, that he loved him. He did love him, yes. More and more each day. There was power there, real power, and Zach wanted to revel in it, bask in it, have it turned on him.

He wanted those damned emotions directed at him. He wanted Harry to wear love for him like a Prefect�s badge. He wanted Harry to want to hold him and comfort him and assure him that everything would be all right, and that the world would be saved with the flick of a wand and a determinedly cast curse.

When Harry cast hexes, there was something in his eyes, something fierce, even in the practise arena. He put all of his hatred into those hexes, and the power rolled off him in waves. Zach was drunk on it. He imagined that Harry�s muscles vibrated with energy, that is very skin was glowing with it. He wanted to touch that skin, to mark it. He wanted to claim every tiny bit of it.

It was when Harry was like this, vibrating with energy, that Zach felt a small bit frightened, and it exhilarated him.

Cho would never appreciate Harry, not the way Zach would. No, for Cho, Harry was a hole-filler. He was there at Cedric�s last, and therefore was her only connexion to the boy she�d really loved. She wouldn�t know the way to worship him as he deserved, as the Boy Who Lived, as the Boy Who Would Save Them All, as Harry. He was a bandage to a wound that she kept reopening only to draw him in.

God, but Zach knew. He knew how he would trace the scar with his fingertips, reverently. He would kiss it, then kiss his way down Harry�s face, to his lips, then down his neck. He would trail his fingers down Harry�s chest and lower, grasping the hardness there. Harry would be hard for him. He�d want Zach to touch him there. He�d bite his lip and beg Zach for more, please, more. And Zach would give it all.

He�d close his lips around the head of Harry�s cock and watch as those piercing green eyes fluttered closed at the sensation. He�d slide his tongue around it, licking the salty fluid away before taking the entire length into his mouth. Harry would put his hands in Zach�s hair, not to force, but to encourage, and he�d let his guard down, but only with Zach.

He would delight in the sounds Harry�d make, the way he�d shudder and moan. Zach would worship this body as if it were his own. He would make Harry forget cupboards and Dark Lords and Ravenclaw girls. And when Harry came, Zach would take it all, swallow it, savour it.

And then he would watch as his Saviour slept peacefully, knowing he was loved and revered. He would whisper words of love into Harry�s ear, and the nightmares would be chased away. Zach could do that, he could. He knew how.

But no, he mustn�t let the fa�ade slip away. He would keep giving pieces of himself away, to an unaware recipient, and stay content to watch from a distance. Harry didn�t know he was breaking Zach�s heart and that made it easier to bear; flat out rejection would be harder to live with. He couldn�t stand it to have all that disdain turned on him.

He wouldn�t tell Harry how he dreamt of him when he slept at night. It was better this way.

Zach knew when it all changed, when the touches lingered longer than they should have and when Harry placed his arm around Cho�s waist when he helped her with a spell. He knew then that he had never really stood a chance.
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Hero Worship.