Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

WONKY CROSS	By : JanisJ Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 59358 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 16
- 17
- 18
A/N: Thanks for all the reads, rates and reviews! I love them and they really mean so much to me and make my day! I know everyone says that, but it’s SO fucking true. It makes me feel indescribably good to hear such a great response, especially from those who took the time to write…. I also thrive on specifics of what stood out as enjoyable to read!

I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to hear that people like the “realism” and awkwardness of the story-- I really endeavored to get that across. I was getting a little tired of people writing ‘first-timers’ being amazing sex-gods while losing their virginity and felt there was a void there I could fill.

(Cuz, c’mon, let’s face it-- while nice for a PWP-- is anyone’s first foray into fornication so smooth and embarrassing-incident free? It’s still hot if the characters get off! And if nothing else, there HAS to be some internal degree of self-consciousness about exposing your level of inexperience. It’s nice to know that my long and varied years with having all sorts of sex/dynamics can be useful in written word and theory somehow!! Well, THAT and it can benefit more than just me and my current partner! Haha! ;)

Hope you guys enjoy this next part!

~O~

CRYSTAL-CLEAR, PART 3

It didn’t take long for the speculation to run rampant among the small social circle residing in and working on Hogwarts-- even filtering into the surrounding area of Hogsmeade.

The deepening shift in Harry and Charlie’s bond spread like hot, licking-wisps of wildfire throughout the close-knit community-- though kept strangely (and appreciatively) under wraps as they proved very protective about letting the news to leak to the public; there was a surprising but pleasant lack of (accurate) information regarding “The Saviour” in the news.

Most everyone was very nice about not throwing their new connection in their too-obvious moon-faces or making a grand spectacle of it. Even the villagers stayed mum in the face of insidious press agents coming around, prying into the business of The One that they felt such reverent loyalty to.

(Of course, those closest to them were already privy to the truth of the new developments…. and would never have betrayed their confidence in the first place.)

The elder, more sage members of the group tried to conceal their hushed communications amongst each other, all-the-while pretending they weren’t victim to simply salacious gossip-mongering and tried to convince themselves it was as banal as commenting on the weather.

The younger generations made no such compunction, though remained respectful (for the most part) and kept the new relationship status amongst themselves.

The couple in question hadn’t issued an announcement or explanation of any kind. They never made things obvious by holding hands in the halls or anything-- in fact, not much changed outwardly-- but there was no mistaking the unshielded devotion and love-light shining in their eyes when they looked at each other. And while they kept their physical affections to themselves in mixed company (for the most part-- they DID snuggle a bit in the Common Room), they attempted to be discreet in the more open places of the Castle.

But there was no concealing the romantic vibe wafting off of them in waves; it was so powerful it was palpable.

Anyone in their vicinity came to the realization-- some quicker than others-- and “just knew” even when nothing overt had occurred. No one could mistake that euphoric “blissfully-in-love” aura exuding off of Harry; with Charlie, it was hard to tell since he always seemed “happy-go-lucky”, but there seemed to be a certain settled-ness now to his previously devil-may-care, free-roaming spirit and a certain focus to his attentions that no one could deny.

It was the smoldering looks when they locked eyes that those two sometimes exchanged which were undeniable! (Probably something to do with that whole “eyes are the portals to the soul” thing, or some such…. but it certainly seemed to be true in this instance….)

For the most part, everyone was glad for them and felt Harry deserved every bit of happiness life had to offer after all his sacrifices for them.

They were relieved, realizing NOW how obvious it was that that passionate emotion had been absent during the lead up to and after his wedding to Ginevra Weasley. And Charlie was just such a charismatic, likable guy that nobody begrudged his antics, especially when they could see the joy he brought the man who saved their world from an evil madman.

(Plus, it wasn’t as if they were purposefully flaunting their sexual activities or causing any impolite discomfiture with being all nauseatingly kissy-kissy and touchy-feely in front of people— there was only the heart-warming sense of a blossoming love that infused the air with optimism like a fresh, sweet Spring breeze.)

Though in the days and weeks following the celebration of the New Year the smitten pair would sneak off at random times or be seen ducking into empty places to be alone, away from prying eyes— a tell-tale sign of “something more” going on between the two.

Those who knew them well could sense when a libidinous tryst was coming on; maybe it was the way their eyes started to glow, or the intensity in their lingering gazes, or the barely perceptible twitches around their lips and brief nods.

(Then again, perhaps it was the swirling pheromones that filled the air so thick they could be cut with a knife.)

It did, however, become a source of entertainment and interest in many forms, ranging from light-hearted amusement or varying degrees of morbid fascination, all the way to thinly veiled disgust (Mr. Filtch and Madam Pince were the only two in that last category) when someone unwittingly walked in on them in hidden spaces.

After the first few incidents of getting interrupted unexpectedly, it soon became a running joke of sorts among the professors, staff and volunteers around the Castle about who would accidentally catch Charlie and Harry in a heated snog-- sometimes more-- next. Actually, the randy couple wasn’t completely sure, but it was rumoured that George had arranged a betting-pool of sorts….

(No one they asked outright would admit it, though there WAS that one suspicious time right after Filius found them kissing behind a suit of armor near the kitchens during dinner-- a hastily erected ‘Notice-Me-Not’ was not an effective enough camouflage for the accomplished Charms professor, after all. His wizened, wrinkled face broke into a manic grin and he ran in on stubby legs, promptly announcing to everyone who was still there finishing their meal that he was taking them all to town for drinks that night—‘his treat’.)

Despite that, and the fact that they had a fairly good chance at someone popping in on what they got carried away doing…. whatever…. It wasn’t enough to deter them, or make them able to stop.

Charlie reveled in the fact of how the brunet was ready to drop anything and everything, always enthusiastic towards his advances and thrilled when his lover initiated things; apparently, the brunet could never tire of getting enough of him (not to mention, the young buck seriously insisted he wanted to bottom at least half the time, though only in the privacy of their own room).

In the past, sex had always been a game to the redheaded lothario with a wandering eye as he flitted from bed to bed-- a conquest, spot of fun and a bodily release. But with Harry it was a way to physically express his genuine deep feelings and it had become his life’s goal to make another happy. He’d never been down this road. (Now it was SO much more than ‘just a screw’….)

Charlie would be happy and profoundly content to have this one amazing partner for the rest of his life, to give him his heart and offer it without reservation, finally letting someone else inside.

Harry was grateful that he was able to have what most adolescents got to do while in school— getting a sexual education, not just dry academics and struggling for social standing (or in his specific case, mortal survival). He was also thankful that his previous unpleasant experiences with broom-cupboards, snickets under stairs and the star-filled deck of the Astronomy Tower were obliterated by his lover replacing the negative associations with positive ones; Charlie helped coax him past his natural hesitance and into a healing catharsis.

But mostly, they both loved love and being in love, and the exciting, heady rush that came from being cherished and desired above all else.

~O~

The first “outing” to the general public had been rather tame (and thankfully none-too-damaging):

Charlie had caught Harry in a spontaneous kiss while they were heading back from Hagrid’s— making the narrow alley in between the newly remodeled Greenhouses Two and Three suddenly become a little less deserted.

Neville, passing by, had simply cleared his throat— loudly, but uncomfortably-- his hands heavy with pots of seedling Tentaculas (still rather intent on snaking their infant tendrils around his arms, which he absentmindedly batted at). Out of courtesy, they quickly broke apart shrugged and mumbled their apologies. The budding botanist watched them leave with a bemused expression and then got back to work with a little smile on his face.

Dean and Allyson had unfortunately discovered the two in compromising states more than once while perusing tapestry-covered alcoves during their work-days. Several times while remarking on how the weft and weave had been expertly mended, discussing threading techniques or making more alterations of colour, the two unsuspecting artisans talking shop had been subject to a sheepish reveal of two disheveled wizards stammering “sorry” and hastily scuttling away (one chuckling, the other blushing).

Luna was always unrepentant when she was caught watching and in no way encouraged them to stop or let herself quietly get away unnoticed like everyone else did.

Usually, it was one of the guys that spotted her from the corner of their heavily-lidded eyes just silently standing there and pulled away, calling a halt to their play (much to the disappointment of the honey-blonde witch-- with her going so far as to say, “Don’t stop on my account” though making no move to leave). In fact, she happened upon them more than seemed mere coincidence and they had the sneaking suspicion it wasn’t for the pot of money that stood to be won.

It wasn’t until they found themselves being spied on by both her AND Myrtle that it came to light that Luna had actually somehow successfully enlisted the Castle’s House ghosts to use as informants; the usually-moping apparition proved unable to keep her moaning gob shut, crooning out her glee as things got hot and heavy and exclaiming that her ‘surveillance job for the girl was well worth the show’.

Apparently, the eccentric Ravenclaw had a become such an enthusiastic voyeur to what the two horny, handsome wizards got up to when they thought they had some secrecy and privacy that she’d resourcefully found a way to feed her fetish more often than mere chances on her own could provide.

(Sometimes Harry wondered what Neville thought about the lengths his girlfriend went to to peep at them-- or if he even knew— but was too embarrassed to ever bring it up to the man.)

Peeves was just an obnoxious, cock-blocking asshole. His loud, boisterous broadcasting (via rude sing-songy rhymes) of their activities deflated the fun for everyone.

And then there was the time Hermione caught them in the library:

Sure, she’d seen them cuddle of course— all the time, in fact-- and a few chaste pecks here and there. But they’d kept the escalation to true snogging and groping to a minimum since Harry thought of her as a sister and it was a favour she and her ginger boyfriend— more or less-- returned. (Plus, they usually had Ron there to groan and pretend to retch, calling out, “Get a room!” at the slightest public display of affection.)

It was near the end of Hermione and Madam Pince’s work on the library.

The regions of the archival hall towards the Castle’s interior had been relatively unscathed but there was an entire wall that shared its other side with the stone exterior and it had been heavily damaged from the outdoor side. Since each tattered text had to be read to make sure every word and page ‘Reparo’ed’ was re-assembled in proper order, it was a long, arduous and tedious task. But, suffice to say, Hermione had eagerly accepted the job once her work with the wards was done fairly early on in the restoration process.

One day they awoke late (erm, more like arisen as usual, yet emerged much later than normal), Ron passed them in the hall, imparting a message from his girlfriend to meet the avidly- researching witch there to go over some more theoretical details of their Patronus-switching experience to compare with the already extensive notes and hypotheses she’d amassed on the subject.

The inseparable couple discovered the place empty when they arrived, so they (of course) proceeded to do what they always did when they found themselves alone….

The stolen kisses and caresses quickly turned heated and feverish.

They were both thrown and shoved harshly up against the precarious stacks. Alternately getting pressed upon the rows of shelves, causing them to teeter and totter (a few tomes to fell to the floor), each of them took turns at dominating the encounter.

Their bulging, cloth-covered groins rutted furiously together.

Then shirts were ripped open, hanging off their arms and ragged panting filled the air as they roughly scratched and pinched the newly- bared skin and nipples. Charlie had somehow managed to get his hand down Harry’s pants with just the button undone but not the zipper.

Not to be outdone (or prematurely UNdone) Harry sunk to his knees, biting and slobbering his way down to Charlie’s waistband and tore into unbuckling the snakeskin belt, clawing his way into his jeans. He released his lover’s thick and throbbing beast. Just as the brunet was about to stuff the entire thing in his mouth in one passionate slide, there was a muffled-- rather feminine-sounding-- ‘eep!’ from the end of the bookcase that was currently propping up the randy redhead.

They both looked over in surprise and spied their bushy-haired friend in a rigid stance of shock or a state of being scandalized (they weren’t sure which).

Mortified, Harry turned away and hastily began trying to cover up, re-arrange his rumpled clothes and hide his raging boner; Charlie didn’t budge, his mind reeling under a veil of libido-laced adrenaline, trying to comprehend the sudden stop to his impending satisfaction.

Hermione didn’t move either— she could nothing but stare.

She hadn’t meant to stay and watch so long-- fully intending a well-placed “a-hem”-- when she’d caught them kissing. But something about their raw passion and animalistic behaviour had her mesmerized.

The sight of two gorgeous guys going at it right before her very eyes entranced her and held her rooted to the spot (not to mention the snarling and growling sounds of their primal vocalizations of lust and pleasure; her own boyfriend was always so quiet that she was never sure how much he was enjoying things).

It made her need to press her thighs together— and grateful that she was white-knuckle clutching a couple books to her heaving chest so that her hands couldn’t stray to her crotch right then (or betray her embarrassingly hard, pointy nipples).

But at the exact time she caught sight of the second bare and completely erect penis she’d ever seen in person (with the impressive, bordering-on-impossible girth and accusing eye holding her hypnotized as it jutted out proudly, now pointed directly at her), she heard the stern librarian return to her literary domain; it was now the thrill of fright that galvanized her into action, if not verbal coherence.

“She! Irma!.... Coming!” she squeaked.

The flustered witch whirled around, finally getting her feet to work-- and tightly-wound legs and ankles uncrossed-- and sprinted for the door, her overly-fluffy hair flagging out behind her.

Charlie, of course, thought it was hilarious.

Harry wasn’t sure how long it would be until he could look his sister in the eye again— and wasn’t eager to confront her just yet so they left the library, trying to bypass the stern presence and shrewd hawk-eye of Madam Pince as inconspicuously and nonchalantly as possible. They took a walk down to the lake and ended up in Hagrid’s empty hut, both grateful for all the visits the half-giant was spending with the Headmistress of Beauxbatons.

It was time for them to feed Fang anyway.

While stalling their return to the Castle and Gryffindor, Charlie got the blow-job that had been started and interrupted but Harry was still too rattled so he took a rain-check on getting any closure of his own. He’d have been happy to stay there overnight though at the redhead’s insistence, he reluctantly followed his lover back to the Tower to see what fall-out awaited them.

~O~

Ron lay bonlessly sprawled across the faded crimson couch in the Common Room in front of the fire with a goofy grin on his face.

“All right there, Ronnie?” Charlie asked with a knowing smirk.

“Never better,” he smugly replied. “You’re back now? So you found her, then?”

Harry made a strangled, gurgling sound in his throat as Charlie sported a mischievous grin. “Actually, SHE found us….” Harry was still struggling over being perplexed by his oldest mate’s relaxed demeanor and stammered an apology.

“’Sorry’? What are you on about? I need to thank you,” Ron replied.

Harry and Charlie looked to each other in confusion before the muscled redhead slipped his big biceps around Harry from behind in a casual embrace.

“Whatever it was you enlightened her on with her research got her so fired up she insisted on three goes with me before she passed out!” Ron declared proudly. “I’ve never seen her so feisty— she was a fiend!”

Obviously the Brightest-Witch–Of-Her-Age hadn’t divulged any details on what the earlier encounter consisted of. Harry could feel Charlie’s chest quaking in silent, suppressed sniggers against his back. One third of the “Golden Trio” remained oblivious, happy under heavily-lidded sky-blue eyes.

“So, yeah,” Ron continued, (much to Charlie’s amusement and Harry’s dismay) “any time you’d like to educate her and impart a couple more juicy tid-bits of wisdom go right ahead…. If it gets me that reaction, be my guest!” Both Harry and Charlie sported bright red faces-- one in embarrassment and the other in holding back cackling mirth that threatened to burst forth.

“’M knackered….” Ron trailed off sleepily, pulling a Molly-made afghan over his lax body and turning away to nap on the couch, shaking his head in fond affection with a mumbled, “Trust my genius girlfriend to get so turned on by gaining new knowledge….”

“Yeah, carnal knowledge,” Charlie whispered in Harry’s ear, his tongue lightly flicking over the ridges and grooves. He grabbed the flustered brunet’s hand and dragged him up the stairs; as their bedroom door closed, he finally gave into the guffaws he’d successfully held back in front of his brother.

~O~

The work ethic around the Castle turned into more of a desultory effort by the end of Winter as more and more of the repairs were scratched from the inventory list when completed.

They were far ahead of schedule and could easily get everything done in time for when the school was to be re-opened in September. The contracted professionals (except Allyson) had left right before Christmas and since there was no rush, the volunteers split their time between restoration tasks and other things.

Hermione, of course, had her various academic projects, preparing for her lost seventh year that she was determined to take and her article on the Patronus phenomenon she hoped to submit to a journal. Ron began spending time with George and Lee at the shop here and there. Dean had gotten a part-time job in Artistic Alley alongside his girlfriend. Luna wrote for The Quibbler and arranged with her teachers to make up her assignments from the parts of her sixth year that she had missed. Neville was made Pomona’s official assistant.

Professors revised lesson plans and Minerva attended to her administrative duties.

And Harry chose to do whatever Charlie had on his agenda for the day.

It was mid-January when the dragon handler’s superior from the preserve arrived to assess the Ironbelly in the Forbidden Forrest situation.

In anticipation of his visit (and because Hagrid insisted on seeing the legendary Gringott’s escapee but couldn’t fly there) they painstakingly cut a path through the trees. It was difficult to coordinate because they had the half-giant on the ground, utilizing his navigation skills but he couldn’t use magic and the two wizards had only ever flown over the canopy to the dragon’s last known location.

They finally figured out a system, once they determined the reptile was in the same place as before.

Harry was in the air, zipping back and forth from their final destination while Charlie would send up ‘Periculum’ sparks at measured intervals; the redhead would then take to the sky, Harry would come to meet him, and then he’d communicate unexpected changes of direction due to things like impenetrable thorny thickets or dens of various dangerous creatures, including one long detour around Centaur territory.

(The cute little airborne kisses they stole were sweet and no one was the wiser.)

Hagrid marked the path in the Earth while they made their way.

Green eyes rolled as Hagrid waxed rhapsodic over the nearly hibernating beast (in his near-sighted view, still rather ugly), yet alternately infused with fondness when he soaked in his lover’s rapturous enthusiasm of his favourite subject.

It was soon discovered— much to Harry’s horror-- by one man acting as “bait” and getting the sluggish creature to shift and move a bit in some sort of strategic way, that it was a ‘SHE’. It was also quickly determined that the female was well beyond her breeding years and that would pose significant problems if she was to come in contact with any other gender OR age-range of her conspecifics.

The two dragon-fans lovingly named her ‘Blanca’.

With the route carved out and a promise extended to the Centaurs to be allowed to the meeting the next day with the UK Ministry’s head of the Regulation of Magical Creatures, Fauna Viva, they felt prepared. Also to be in attendance was Charlie’s boss at the preserve, Ivan Yakinov. (Harry was very grateful he’d been told the name ahead of time and gotten all his giggles out over how the name sounded).

They’d done the preliminary research and leg-work so they felt sufficiently confident.

They were ready to pitch the idea that it was a feasible venture that benefitted everyone that the half-giant gamekeeper and wildlife professor, along with Charlie’s dragonologist background, could take care of it right where she’d settled. All three hoped that between the dragon-nuts they would be able convince the necessary officials that the pair of burly men could monitor the containment and concealment wards placed around a section of the Forrest and handle a sort-of “adjunct” set-up that adhered to the international rules and regulations.

Their reasoning— leaving out that the two dragon-lovers just wanted one nearby-- was that it would be impractical, if not impossible to try and move a previously abused, aged and potentially blind animal so far as Romania. Not to mention that if they were successful (after the extra hard work of transporting it there), introducing a decrepit new-comer that couldn’t hold its own to the existing colony would most likely result in her getting torn to shreds by the other residents in their prime.

After a tense discussion filled with law-jargon, mangled interpretation due to thick accents being difficult to understand and coupled with the territorial demands of the Centaur herd, they managed to hammer out a deal that everyone agreed upon.

Harry was impressed with the redhead’s jovial, friendly diplomacy yet keeping the perfect amount of respect needed to appease the proud half-equines; Hagrid tended to only use his intimidating size and crossbow when dealing with them.

He also admired Charlie’s open but deferential demeanor towards the witch and wizard ultimately in charge of this unprecedented decision— and watched in awe as the man subtly promoted his own agenda while making all parties involved think that they and they alone had come up with such a brilliant solution.

After Ms. Viva and Mr. Yakinov (after being personally introduced to the huge, imposing and gruff man, the brunet would never have dreamed of snickering at his name sounded) agreed on the terms, they provided a nice meal for their esteemed guests in the kitchens of the Castle. After that victory, Charlie and Harry were invited by a giddy, over-the-moon Hagrid to his hut for drinks.

The mood was buoyant and Harry had never been happier. Charlie had a legitimate reason to stay around Hogwarts while he finished his last year next September!

They had already decided to spend the summer at the Preserve since the brunet knew how much his career meant to the tattooed man (and that he’d put on hold indefinitely for his family and now him); he knew how much he was itching to get back. The both of them had found how accommodating Hagrid’s lengthy stays with Madam Maxine was also useful in how Charlie was now somewhat indispensable in that capacity.

The two Earthy men found that it was advantageous to share animal care duties so that they could pursue their new romantic relationships.

Harry still had his qualms about Charlie trekking through the Forbidden Forrest frequently to go see a fire-breathing animal. He made sure to teach him ‘Arania Exumai’ in defense against Arogog’s descendants (which felt no compulsion to let him-- or anyone-- pass as they did Hagrid). But he had to trust his boyfriend’s innate defensive skills. Though he made sure that his Love could cast that spell in his sleep.

But even better, (and made him have to hold back from squealing like a girl)-- Someone he loved wanted to stick around!

The fact that the redhead was taking over more gamekeeper duties and helping take care of the livestock that fed the student population made him want to sing! (Oh, FINE! Maybe the feeling about bursting into song might just be due to the firewhiskey churning in his veins at present, but he certainly was ecstatic that his lover was making plans to stay close to him!)

He belly-laughed along with the two men, all of them getting steadily more and more pissed as they celebrated; the levity and relief in the atmosphere was as intoxicating as was the freely-flowing booze.

Harry didn’t even mind that they shared so much past history from when Charlie was in school— apparently they had been better acquainted than he realized. It was the anecdotes they recounted as they reminisced about old Professor Olaf Kettleburn that had him rolling in unrestrained guffaws.

Each memory was funnier than the last.

It didn’t matter if he hadn’t been there or even know the man personally. The two of his closest mates these days had these imitated gestures and voice inflections that had them all in stitches; apparently, Professor “O-K” was quite the amusing, eccentric weirdo.

And Charlie was such a charismatic story-teller! Harry hung on his every word….

(Life was soooo good with friends and laughter and love in it….)

~O~

The first of May found Harry antsy.

It was understandable, really.

Hermione and Ron were feeling uneasy as well, being inundated with the terrible memories of what had happened to them one year prior.

Charlie was trying to keep spirits up with light humour, but it wasn’t helping much to ease the tension; he had even gone so far as suggesting the Pagan May-Day ritual of women tying up young, virile men and having their way with them, all the while suggestively making it clear he hoped to be wrangled into the task.

But it hadn’t brightened the mood and he felt a bit floundering on how to make things better for his Love.

(He got the severity of the situation, he DID! He just wanted to help….)

The restoration project of the Castle was finished and in the Great Hall tomorrow evening there was to be a commemoration of the anniversary of Voldemort’s final downfall, a memorial for those kind souls that sacrificed their lives, and a stuffy gala dinner party and an official announcement of the school’s completion with the proclamation of intent to admit students for the next year.

Ministry officials were involved. Key donors and the Board of Governors would attend. Press (or unscrupulous informants) would possibly somehow sneak in (desperate to get the scoop and interrogate “The Saviour”— especially since he’d laid so low and hadn’t given them much of anything to print direct from the source).

“The Golden Trio” would undoubtedly be pinned in a ‘Lumos Maxima’ and Harry would be urged to speak, obligated to say a few words.

In short, it was going to be everything the brunet hated.

He’d avoided the wider Wizarding World for exactly this reason.

He didn’t WANT to dredge up his difficult past-- he only wanted to look forward now (or at least live in the present-- there never had been a clear vision for what the future had in store for him). He’d always been uncomfortable under all the interest, attention and speculation.

And if that wasn’t bad enough, Minerva had called a separate, mandatory meeting and luncheon today to thank the volunteers, staff and all the various workers that had been hired to help in the beginning.

Harry’s foot-falls turned trudging and heavy the closer they got to the gathering to be held in the Great Hall; with his head hanging in resignation, the green-eyed man failed to catch his lover waving his little brother and his girlfriend on ahead with a randy smirk. He also missed his best mate roll his eyes and the bushy-haired witch try purse her lips around a smile while gesturing in sign language tapping her watch, signaling the need to keep it short.

So the green-eyed man was completely unaware and caught off guard when he was suddenly yanked behind the statue that stood at the last staircase descending into the Entrance Hall.

Two rough hands closed around his head and threaded their fingers through his shoulder-length hair; he yelped as his back hit the unyielding stone wall and his lover’s tongue took the invitation unwittingly given and plundered in his mouth, effectively swallowing the slight sound. His lips remained stiff at first due to his nerves…. but then eventually loosened and melted under the patient perseverance of his determined partner.

And then when nudged just so…. something else of his became stiff….

Just when the frotting of their lower-halves reached a fever-pitch and their freshly pressed button-down shirts were undone, wrinkled and hanging off the crooks of their elbows (and Harry had just unbuttoned Charlie’s fly), they both heard a noise they hadn’t heard in a long, long time:

The scraping of stone against stone! The unmistakable tone of the staircases moving again!

They hadn’t realized they missed that echoing background music of Hogwarts so much until it reached their ears. When they had first arrived last Summer, the overwhelming silence had been unnerving, but everyone had grown accustomed to it. Now that it was back, it truly felt like home!

Both un-heedful of their mussed sexy state, the playful pair bounded into the hall with squeals of joy to see the sight like two children running outdoors during the first snow of the season, enjoying and witnessing the wonder of it all.

A collective, scandalized gasp issued from one flight below in the Grand Foyer and they simultaneously realized that every single eye of their colleagues, past and present, were on them in their current (various states of undress and obvious arousal).

The feeling was mutual.

Apparently, the couple was unable to tear their gaze away from the surreal scene of the large crowd staring at them in silent, slack-jawed disbelief, horror and amusement either.

The Headmistress had her back to them, arms held wide in a grand unveiling gesture over the momentous occasion of the last piece of the puzzle that their job was done-- the Castle’s magic was fully restored and whole so that the sets of granite steps moved again of their own accord.

It took her a couple of heartbeats to register the reaction of her audience was not exactly what it was supposed to be.

In the next seconds, she noted the gatherings’ single, focused sight-line just above her left shoulder— very suspiciously NOT flickering all over the huge main tower and into the rafters to where all the multiple corridors connected as expected.

(As the old austere witch turned to look, it seemed to happen in slow motion for Harry and Charlie.)

When she saw them frozen in their ‘deer-in-the-headlights’ stance on the landing— severely disheveled and in a very inappropriate state of dress-- her posture slumped in defeat as she bowed her grey-bunned head while pinching the bridge of her nose. There was no denying to all present that her exasperated expression radiated, ‘Not again!!’ and ‘Why NOW?!’.

(She sighed heavily, causing most to wonder how sparks didn’t shoot out her flared nostrils.)

Then-- across the silence-- the cacophony exploded.

The initial shock had worn off and the sheer ridiculousness and hilarity of the situation set in; the witches and wizards whooped and hollered, laughing in humour or wolf-whistling.

With all manner of impolite jeers behind called out behind them, the two cringing men fled back into their steamy hidey-hole to re-group and wait for the hub-bub they’d caused to die down.

(And let everyone else to laugh it out to their heart’s content.)

~O~

A/N: Hoped you liked that one…. That was fun to write. (Especially the “fan-girls” part…. That amused me….)

Hope you lovely readers come back for the next go! We’re going to Romania! (oooooo, boy!)
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