Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Sleeping Dogs II	By : ChimaeraChan Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 30426 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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
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CH2—The Dodgy Coyote

Harry was almost late for Potions class the next morning. Waking up in the Shrieking Shack surrounded by his pack and soon to be mate, he had lingered, hoping for someone to have enough energy to fuck him. Last night had been all about Draco. Although Harry didn't mind that, he was aching for sex, his entire body crying out to be filled after watching Draco being spread for the first, and possibly last, time. But everyone was exhausted, to the point that Harry wondered if Remus would be teaching DADA that day and if Draco was even going to bother waking up.
Snape, as usual, was in a foul mood. Harry knew the professor didn't have a clue as to what Harry was getting up to with Remus. Snape just hated Harry for being around Remus in general. Remus had said it reminded the man of Harry's father. Harry smirked openly as he took his seat, Snape's dark gaze settling on him. Draco, Snape's little teacher's pet, was now in Harry's pack. Talk about fucking irony there. Harry had dealt the man a huge blow and Snape might never even know.
Harry tried his best to pay attention but it wasn't really worth the effort. He was way too horny to truly focus, last night flashing through his mind again and again. God, Draco was beautiful. He would be even more beautiful when spreading for Mutt, Harry's animagus dog form. But Harry had no idea how to convince his love of that. It had been nearly impossible to get Draco to do what he did last night, and that was with a lot of help.
Harry bit his lip, burying his head into his hands while Snape droned on about some boring history of some boring potion. He was so hard. Harry had a permanent concealing charm on all his underwear, just to hide the many erections that popped up during the day. But this time was very different. Harry had seen the most damn arousing thing he'd been dreaming forever to see, and then everyone had gotten too tired to take care of him. He was pretty sure he was going to burst if he didn't get something hard and thick up his ass, and soon.
He should have just stayed in the Shack and gotten a note from Remus to dismiss him from class. Hell, what if Sirius was already awake, hard and ready to go? Harry bit back a whine, his hole clenching tightly. Snape would have totally docked house points if Harry had failed to show for class, note or no note. Draco could get away with stuff like that, but not Harry.
There was a mean snicker, and Harry snapped his eyes up, looking to the right and slightly ahead from where he was sitting in the back of the room. Goyle was throwing things at Neville while Crabbe laughed. Little bits of... boogers—fucking gross—at Neville's back. Neville, almost as small as Harry, with soft ash blond hair and large blue eyes, was ducking further in his chair, as if he could disappear and the idiots would leave him alone. It didn't work that way. Harry knew all too well. Assholes like Crabbe and Goyle only understood one thing—pain and power.
Looking around, Harry knew no one was going to help Neville. No one ever did, not even the other Gryffindors. Harry barely paid the boy any attention, Neville just too much of a pansy. The boy reeked of victim, flinching and ducking, slender and quiet, and always mumbling instead of speaking up, which was probably why he was always being picked on. Harry had used to help Neville—had even asked Ron to help—but then Harry had stopped helping anyone, so consumed with the constant ache inside him that only made him think of sex all the time. Ron was more a bully than anything else without Harry to guide him, and wasn't going to help the weakest of their dorm.
Looking at Crabbe and Goyle, Harry thought maybe he'd kick their asses, just this one time for Neville, if they didn't let up.
Harry got mean when he was horny, and he was practically always horny. Not to his pack—Harry had no reason to be mean to his own kind when they were more than happy to fill him the way he needed. But around others that didn't understand him and his strangeness, Harry became vicious and snapping. Remus liked to call Harry a wild mutt, and times like this, Harry definitely felt like one.
“Mr. Longbottom, would you kindly stop knocking things over and pay attention?” Snape drawled as Neville, in his desire to duck from another bombardment—this time spitballs—knocked a book to the ground. Harry glared at the man. Snape knew Neville was being picked on. What a messed up teacher for letting his own house bully other students. Harry wanted to hurt Crabbe and Goyle, just to hurt Snape in that moment, the twisted, fucked up man.
There was only another ten minutes left in class and Harry waited patiently, his anger growing with every disgusting thing the duo of oafs threw at Neville. It was almost a relief, the wicked ache in Harry dulling as he was finally able to focus on something else; beating the crap out of some Slytherins.
Harry hung back when everyone started collecting their things, not wanting to be seen hunting down the two when leaving. Neville ran out of the room like a little twittering mouse, nearly dropping his notebook from his bag in the process. Crabbe and Goyle lumbered after him, and Harry paused, eyebrows raised when he caught sight of the taller of the two idiots. Crabbe was sporting a boner, face flushed as he left the room. Did the sick fuck get off on picking on Neville?
Snape was suddenly in front of Harry, towering over like a tall crow and leering down superiorly. “Mr. Potter, I would like to talk to you about your failing performance in my class.”
Harry's lips twisted in a grimace and he shoved his books in his bag. “Sir, I really don't have time right now.”
Snape sneered right back, his dark eyes boring into Harry. “Your grades have been getting worse. I feel if something isn't done soon, you're going to fail. I really don't want to have to repeat another round of potions with you because you couldn't keep up.”
Harry paled at the notion. He hadn't been talking to Hermione much, the little witch upset with how Harry had called her bloody nosy when she wouldn't stop asking where he went all the time. Without Hermione's help, Harry really just couldn't keep up in the class.
“There are dozens of study groups, Potter. I dare say one of them will put up with your abysmal ignorance for a chance to claim they helped the great Harry Potter.”
Harry glared, Snape speaking the word 'great' like he was really talking about the most abhorrent thing he could imagine. “I'll think about it, Professor,” Harry muttered, slinging his book bag over his shoulder.
Snape let him go after another calculating look, Harry scowling as he walked out the door. Fucking Snape, managing to insult him while pretending he gave a crap at the same time. What an ass.

Harry had forgotten all about Neville and his oversized bullies. Walking down the corridor towards his next class, his senses suddenly jolted him into awareness. It was the smell of sex, just a trickle wafting through the air, but it was enough for Harry's ache to flare to full arousal, his knees going weak with want. Maybe his pack was still in the shack. Maybe someone would be awake enough—Hell, they didn't even have to wake up. Just as long as someone was hard enough to put it in him.
Harry leaned on the wall outside a slightly ajar door, panting as he tried to get himself under control. He had thought the classroom empty, dim torches the only light flickering within. But someone was whispering to someone else, and Harry strained to hear, his canine senses again taking over as his body ached.
“Bite it and I'll fucking kill you.”
“Why are you even letting him near you? Millicent would suck you in a second if you asked.”
“None of your business. He's much... prettier than Millicent.”
“He's a boy. There's something wrong with you.”
“Shut up and don't look if you don't like it. No one said you had to go next.” There was a shuffling, Goyle huffing in annoyance. A zipper tore through the air, followed by the rustle of clothes and a low whimper.
Harry knew he should go in. He should stop Crabbe before he crossed the line. But his knees were so weak, and he was aching so bad. If Harry went in, it would be on his knees and he had no interest spreading to those fucktard Slytherins.
“That's it... oh fuck... open wide... Fucking tight, Longbottom... I bet you do this a lot... yesss...” At least Crabbe would be quick. He sounded like he was close already, Neville choking him down, whimpering and gasping softly.
“You're fucked up, man,” Goyle said with a grunt. “What are you, some sort of queer?”
“No... he is... fucking queer... fuck... fuck yes...” There was a clatter, a desk being pushed back. “Wider, you fucking queer... Yeah... make sure you swallow... You better fucking swallow my cum...”
“Shit, you're right. The poof is hard—fucking sick! He likes it, the sick fuck.”
Crabbe didn't answer, still whispering harshly. “That's it... oh god... that's how you like it... gonna... gonna give it to you... so hard... uhn...” He came with a groan, Neville coughing and gasping for air moments later. “Fucking... bitch... I told you to swallow.”
There was the sound of fist hitting flesh, another desk clattering back. The ache eased in Harry, the fresh scent of blood rising up above the scent of sex. Fighting. Harry could definitely handle fighting.
Harry slammed the door open, his knees still a little rubbery. He was not expecting the sight before him. Crabbe, hand pouring blood, was clutching his robe and trying to wrest the material from the jaws of a desert colored coyote while Goyle scrambled on the ground, looking at Harry with hope in his beady eyes. The moment Goyle reached him, Harry kicked him sharply in the gut, the large boy curling in pain on the floor. Shutting and locking the door behind him, Harry slipped his wand from his pocket and stunned Crabbe, the coyote stepping back as the brunette walked further into the room.
The coyote was the color of Neville's ash blond hair, soft and creamy, with bright blue eyes currently looking up at him, blood speckling its maw. The creature wagged its tail hesitantly, giving a low whine at Harry's approach. He was smaller than Padfoot and Wolfie, closer to Harry's mutt size but with delicate, thin legs, sharp face, and fluffy tail. He was a very pretty coyote, but Harry preferred Draco's stronger, noble wolf.
Harry had no doubt that the creature was Neville and not some wild coyote wandering in the school. For some reason animagus forms were almost otherworldly in beauty compared to their real counterparts, their fur silkier and bodies graceful. It was as if the magic it took to make them wanted to make sure the beasts stood out from nature.
“Neville!” Harry snapped, glaring at the transformed boy. “Are you out of your fucking mind? Do you know how much trouble you can get in for getting caught being an animagus without a license?” Harry whirled, stunning Goyle unconscious as well. “These idiots would tell the whole fucking world, just to see you in jail.”
Shaking his head, Harry bent over Crabbe, trying to think what to do next as he made sure the boy was out cold. He could go to Remus and have the werewolf wipe the Slytherins' memories. Or maybe the stunning would be enough. It was dark in the classroom and everything had happened so quickly. People tended to forget what happened right before they were stunned. Maybe the two idiots would think some dog had jumped in and attacked them, instead of Neville transforming.
He moved towards Goyle, mussing over what to do next. Probably dump the idiots in the yard outside. Then if they mentioned a dog, the teachers could think they meant something from the Forbidden Forest...
“Fuck—Get off me!” Harry gasped, Neville's coyote form suddenly barreling him to the floor and clamping deadly teeth into the back of his neck. “What the fuck, Neville? I'm trying to help—Oh shit...” Harry groaned, the ache rising up in overwhelming strength as he felt a hardness push against his thigh and begin to hump him.
“Neville stop... you don't understand what I am...” Harry tried to fight the heat rising up in him, his body in so much need after being left unsatisfied last night. Harry was always in need, a pack bitch with an unusually small pack. His slender body anticipated sex and it called for it, too. Especially to canines. Every time Harry needed, he was needed in return and he had no way to control his scent. “I have a pack, and they will... oh fuck... they will kill you...”
Neville didn't seem to care, teeth clamping harder on Harry's neck—as if the weak fucker could actually claim him even if Harry wasn't in a pack. “Listen to me, you bloody idiot,” Harry tried again, the heat of the coyote's breath hot and dizzying, each eager push against his thighs making him want to spread his legs. “You aren't thinking clearly. You don't want to do this... There's a person in there, and it knows this is wrong...”
For a moment, Harry thought he had gotten through to Neville, the teeth on his neck relaxing, the wild humping abating. Then claws were tearing down Harry's back, scratching his skin and catching on his oversized jeans and pulling them down his thighs. “S-stop!” He moaned, fire rushing over his skin as fur pressed against his bare ass. Harry loved fur against his flesh. He loved the feel of fur and hot precum, both currently rubbing onto his tight behind as the coyote humped him anxiously.
Harry wanted to be fucked so bad. He was in so much need, and Neville only wanted to help. The stupid boy probably couldn't stop himself, completely ensnared by Harry's sex scent, especially now that the brunette's loins were exposed to the air. But Harry had to stop this. Remus had been very clear that Harry was not allowed to fuck anyone outside of the pack without permission. There was no way his alpha would let a weak, shy thing like Neville get into Harry's hole.
“Stop, Neville... You have to stop... I don't want you to get hurt...” Harry groaned louder as claws scrabbled down his back, hurting so fucking good. He needed to fight back but his body was going limp, submitting to his unbearable need. Maybe just a little... maybe just enough to calm the ache a bit, and then Harry would stop the beast. Remus would have to understand. Harry just needed so much and everyone was too tired to fill him.
Harry pushed himself up to his knees, smirking at the growl Neville made in response, teeth suddenly tearing into Harry's shirt and shoulder to keep him there. He moaned, flushing from the delicious sensation, body shuddering for more. Stretching forward, Harry wiggled his hips to get his jeans and underwear out of the way. He gaped, eyes fluttering shut as more precum splattered on him, now slicking his inner thighs.
The coyote whined, more of Harry's scent filling the air, driving him crazy as he wrapped forearms around Harry's chest and surrounded the boy with silky fur and heat. Blood dripped slowly down the brunette's collar, the coyote refusing to release Harry's shoulder, determined to keep the small boy there so he wouldn't escape.
“Come on, Neville... Fuck... Give it to me...” Harry pleaded softly, pushing back into the renewed humps that weren't even fucking close to his aching entrance. “Shit, have you fucked anything?” He growled in exasperation. God, he needed it so bad. Just needed to be filled so the ache would stop and he could fucking think again.
Harry angled his hips down, spreading his thighs wider, trying to guide the damn beast. Each wild thrust brought splashes of hot, dripping seed and Harry needed that inside so bad, needed the wet to fill him deep and soothe the burning inside. “Come on, you pretty thing... God, you're so close... just a little higher... Come on, you fucking shy bitch—Fuck me!”
Gaping in shock, the coyote's thick, wet cock head suddenly bruised into Harry's hole, wedging in. “Oh... my... fuck...” Harry hadn't stretched. He had been in so much need, he had forgotten to stretch. Even though Neville's coyote form looked smaller than the larger canines Harry loved to let fuck him, his pulsing dick did not feel much different in size, especially when Harry was not stretched first.
“S-stop... fuck... too much...” Neville ignored him, thrusts renewing in vigor now that he had managed to find Harry's tight hole. The coyote grunted in his ear, pouring hot saliva and blood down Harry's chest as he pumped deeper into his clenching flesh, pushing against the tense muscles with hard jolts. Harry cried out with each inch gained, his hole stretching to the thickness, opening reluctantly and letting the beast in.
Harry's arms gave out when he felt the knot, the coyote's cock thicker at the base, determined to fuck and fill Harry properly, even if he was unbearably tight already. Mouth wide, cries caught in his throat, Harry ran his tongue over the floor, dust and musk filling his addled senses. The coyote shifted, forelegs grappling the boy tighter, trying to get some leverage to drive the large knot into Harry's abused hole.
“Oh hell... that's it... so fucking big... I need it... need it...” Hips shaking from each wild thrust, Harry tried to push back, needing the wet, needing it so deep until he could be soothed finally. His channel was aching, slick with the coyote's copious precum and too tight, resisting the wider knot. “Come on, Nev... Get it in there... Fuck me... harder... need it harder...”
Harry shouted, the coyote's teeth tearing at his shoulder, slicing in too deep and nearly taking a chunk of flesh as Neville used his strong jaw as leverage to finally drive the knot into Harry's tight ring of muscles. Sobbing from the pain and the sudden feeling of unbearable fullness, red heat and blackness encased Harry's vision and he wondered blearily if he was going to faint. “Hurts...” he choked out, his shoulder on fire from the vicious bite.
The coyote continued to pound into him, three more hip jarring pumps until the knot was suddenly buried, snug and deep in Harry's ass. Harry's hole quickly clenched tight around the thick flesh, holding it in and keeping it deep inside. He moaned in agony and relief. Fucking Neville—fucking inexperienced brutal fuck, taking what he didn't even fucking know how to take while tearing him to pieces.
Harry couldn't stay upset, his body so in need, clenching and milking the hard flesh grinding inside him with every pump of the creature's hips. It was so big... so fucking big and thick and—Oh! Oh the wet, spurting deep inside, jetting against the burning walls of Harry's passage, filling him again and again with a flood of cum.
Moan after moan fell from Harry's lips, each surge of seed driving him closer to his orgasm. So full... so wet and full and slick... God, he needed it. Would always need it, just like this, on his knees, full of cock and cum. It didn't matter what that cock was attached to, just as long as it was fucking him hard and deep. Harry arched back and came with a cry, grinding on the thick, thick flesh inside him. He knew he was a terrible slut for liking it—Even when his room mate was raping him raw. But Harry liked it so much, needed it so bad.
He slumped forward, exhausted, the pain tiring him more than anything else as his shoulder throbbed agony. Neville was still pumping into him, gush after gush of cum soaking him deep. He had stopped biting Harry finally, now licking his slippery pink tongue almost apologetically at the blood streaming from the deep wound.
Harry was starting to find his sanity again, the pain in his shoulder helping all the more. He was so fucked. Remus was going to kill him—Probably quite literally, actually kill Neville. There was no way the fucking idiot boy even knew what he had gotten himself into. Few people knew Remus was a werewolf, and even fewer knew Harry was part of the man's pack.
Harry groaned when Neville started to whine, the coyote scratching claws over his back as he attempted to pull free of Harry's clenched hole. “Stop... Stay inside and fucking relax,” Harry muttered, his voice hoarse and weak sounding. “Don't you know anything? You're tied to me. We're stuck until you can calm down.” Neville continued to whine and Harry rolled his eyes. No, clearly the fucking boy didn't know anything at all.
He stared at Goyle's foot, the bullies still thankfully unconscious. Maybe Harry should stun Neville and leave the three in the room. Neville getting caught as an animagus would be safer than Remus finding out what the coyote had done to Harry. Neville gave another pathetic whine, lapping up the side of Harry's sweat-soaked face with elegant licks.
Fuck. Remus was right; Harry was just too fucking soft. He'd have to figure something out to keep Neville protected. Shaking his head at his own retarded niceness, Harry waited patiently. His body was still quite happy to be filled, the coyote's cock warm and satisfying as it slowed its rocking and continued to stretch Harry wide.
Harry considered asking Neville to transform back so he could just pull out without the knot of the coyote's dick to get in the way. But Harry feared that the bumbling boy would manage to mangle that up, and Harry's insides, in the process. That Neville had managed to transform at all was a bit of a wonder. Harry would wait if it meant not getting injured anymore than he already had.

Harry had to keep Neville from running away. It was half an hour later and the blond boy had managed to finally untie, transform, and freak out. The many mumbled, tear streaked apologies did nothing to soothe Harry's bleeding shoulder, and he was fighting the annoying desire to hit the whimpering thing.
“Shut up and fucking listen, Neville. You will not tell anyone about this. Do you understand?” Harry asked lowly, Neville huddled as he sat on a desk, rubbing his sleeve over the stray tears falling over his flushed cheeks. The boy looked like some ridiculous, fragile china-doll, all rosebud lips and watery blue eyes. Extra annoying when Harry though of what Neville had just done to his shoulder. Harry was going to have to go to Pomfrey to be healed, which meant Remus would know Harry had been hurt. It meant another lie to his alpha that Harry did not want to have to tell. Stupid fucking Neville.
“I-I won't t-tell,” Neville whispered. “I would n-never tell anyone that I... as a-a dog...”
“Coyote,” Harry snapped. The boy didn't even know what his form was! “Neville, you can never transform again while in the castle. It's too dangerous. There are people here, that all they have to do is catch a whiff of your scent in that form, and they will know exactly what you are. They will know that you're in my dorm, and they will get fucking pissed off with the both of us.”
Neville nodded, his eyes wide. He hesitantly lowered himself from the desk, biting at the sleeve of his school robe anxiously. “Don't worry,” he whispered. “I can't... I'm not good at transforming. That w-was the first time it worked, and I've been trying to learn since the beginning of the year. I didn't know it would... would hurt you like that...”
Harry rolled his eyes as more tears trickled down the slender boy's face. “I don't care why. Just make sure you don't transform again.”
“Okay... I'm so sorry, Harry. So, so, so sorry!” Neville said again, grabbing Harry's arm and looking up at him pleadingly. “I didn't know the creature would do that! I-I wouldn't want to hurt anyone like that...”
Harry tried to step away, but Neville wouldn't let go, only clutching tighter. “Please don't hate me. I... I like you, and I don't want you to hate me—I didn't know it would do that, I swear. And if I had, I never would have transformed. I'll never transform again, just so I don't ever hurt anyone like that again. I promise!”
“Neville—Shit, just let go!” Harry growled, tearing his arm away and stepping back before Neville's scent could overwhelm him. Part of why Harry was finding himself so annoyed with the trembling boy was because for all his tears and professed shock at his own coyote's behavior, Neville was reeking of arousal.
“I'm fucking pissed with you, but I don't hate you, okay?” Harry said, trying to be kinder. “And you shouldn't think your coyote is some sex starved animal. It's not going to be like that most of the time.”
“But it had...” Neville bit his lip, unable to say what he had done.
Harry nodded, scratching the back of his head and wincing from the pain his shoulder made in protest. Harry hadn't told anyone but his packmates what he was, mostly because they were the reason he had figured it out. Neville was way too weak to be in a werewolf pack, or probably any pack for that matter. He would likely never come across a creature like Harry again. Harry didn't want to ruin the boy's entire animagus future, just because he thought his coyote would always act that way around people.
“You need to promise not to tell anyone what I'm going to tell you, Neville.” Harry said, waiting for Neville to nod solemnly in reply. “It's not your coyote's fault that it did that to me. A lot of animals—mostly dog types, and sometimes magical types—want to do that to me. Some can control themselves better than others.”
Neville went back to biting on his sleeve, eyes moving over Harry slowly. He shook his head, finally speaking. “That c-can't be right, Harry. You're not—you're just—that's not right.”
Harry shrugged, not about to argue with someone so damn ignorant. “You want to do it to me right now. I can smell it on you.”
Neville blushed, turning away, head hidden in his sleeve as he gnawed on the material. “S-sorry... so, so sorry...”
“It's okay, Neville. I have a scent that makes you feel that way. You can't help it. And, well, I like it. A lot. But there are only certain... people I can do that with,” Harry added, flinching on the word 'people.' He was still shy about wanting dogs as much as he did, such a strange concept in the ordinary world around him. It was difficult even now to speak about it. “Just because I smell that way doesn't mean you can just—”
Neville lifted his head, peeking back to blink red rimmed eyes at Harry. “You... you like it? That? Even with... with the dog?”
“Coyote,” Harry corrected automatically, trying not to turn red. “I'm an animagus, too. A dog. And my dog really likes... that.”
Neville turned, brows furrowed. “But you weren't a dog. You were... you were a human, Harry. And you... you were hard.” Neville licked his lips, eyes straying over Harry again. “I heard what you said... asking for it... I could smell how much you... you liked it. When you c-came... It smelled so good. Really good. You smell so good...”
Harry swallowed and took a step back, failing to stop his blush. As a dog, Harry didn't like to be fucked. Remus couldn't quite figure out why Harry would want to be filled only as a human, but then, he couldn't figure out why Harry wanted to be filled as much as he did to begin with. Harry was different, even for a pack bitch. Spectacular, as Sirius would put it, but Harry thought probably closer to fucked up and really slutty.
“Neville, I have a pack,” Harry said sternly, trying to derail the boy's train of thought. “I'm not going to tell you who they are, because I don't want you to act suspicious around them. But if they find out what you did, they'll hurt you. A lot more than you hurt me.”
“Did it hurt? You were... you were moaning so loud, and begging... I think you liked that too...” Neville whispered, staring at Harry as if he were his next meal. The boy had to be a fucking idiot.
“Neville, my pack will kill you! One of them is a bloody werewolf!”
Neville gasped, eyes widening in fear. He stepped back as if a werewolf was in the room that very instant. Realizing Neville might actually think that Harry was cursed and seeing that it was finally keeping the boy from wanting to fuck him, Harry did not deny it. “I'm going to take care of these two, Neville. And you are going to forget that any of this happened.”
Harry used his wand to bound Crabbe and Goyle in ropes, floating them up behind him. “Go ahead and tell me if anyone is coming. If you try to run, I am going to beat the shit out of you. Are we clear?”
Neville nodded quickly, jumping to get ahead of Harry and look out the door. Harry just shook his head in annoyance. Of all the people to learn his secret, Neville Longbottom was possibly the worst. Not because he would tell—No, Neville didn't have any friends to tell things to. But because the bloody fool probably thought Harry was now his friend, when Harry just wanted to get away and heal the gaping wound in his shoulder already.
“H-Harry?” Neville asked before opening the door again, eyes full of anxiety. “I'm not... I licked your blood. The next full moon, am I going to...?”
Fucking hell. “I'm not a werewolf, Neville. Now hurry the fuck up.” Huffing in annoyance, Harry floated the two Slytherin bullies behind him, keeping to the shadows while Neville ran ahead at each bend of corridor until they were outside. Harry left Crabbe and Goyle in the muddy snow, positioned as embarrassingly as possible, just in case someone came by and found them.
The two Gryffindors went back inside, Harry dreading the trip to the hospital ward that was coming next. Madame Pomfrey always asked questions, and so did Remus. While standing and brooding on the lie he had to make up, Neville reached out hesitantly, pressing at the torn flesh of Harry's shoulder. Harry stiffened, glaring at the annoying boy.
“I c-can heal it,” Neville whispered as he stared intently, sliding closer, thumb running into the scarlet streams and turning red.
“You'll only make it worse,” Harry grumbled, knowing damn well Neville was a mess with magic.
Neville's gaze flickered to Harry's angry expression, the blond pulling his hand away and licking his bloodied thumb. “No, I won't. I think... I think I smelled you before you opened the door earlier...”
Harry raised his brows, not sure what Neville was getting at. The red thumb began to trace over the boy's rosebud lips. Harry tried very hard not to imagine Crabbe doing something very similar when fucking Neville's mouth.
“Just... I felt calmer... stronger when I caught that scent... Like maybe I could do anything as long as I tried.” Neville smirked suddenly, biting his thumb and staring at Harry's shoulder. “I bet I could heal you. Easy.”
Harry didn't say anything, for the first time wondering just how fucked in the head Neville was. The boy had no friends, didn't seem to want any, and had gotten hard when Crabbe had forced him to suck his dick. Even when Padfoot was at his most brutal, he had never hurt Harry the way Neville had. Maybe the blond Gryffindor had more crazy going on than Harry had bothered to consider before.
Neville took Harry's silence as permission to try, pulling his wand out and focusing intently on Harry's shoulder as he whispered an elaborate healing spell. Harry watched, disbelieving while his flesh began to knit together under Neville's glowing power. The pain was gone completely, and when Harry streaked the blood aside, there was no ripple or pucker of flesh to show there had been a wound to begin with.
“Wow, Neville... Sorry I doubted—Oof! For fuck sake!” Harry hissed when the boy suddenly slammed into him, pushing Harry up against the wall and attacking his healed shoulder with his tongue. “Get the fuck off me!” Harry snarled, slamming his hands down on Neville's shoulders. Neville made a growling sound, both hands suddenly pulling at the front of Harry's shirt and putting all his weight on the brunette's neck until he was fighting not to fall.
“I just want to taste it,” Neville murmured, licking up Harry's shoulder. “It's not like you need it anymore.” He pressed closer, Harry feeling the boy's dick, hard and eager through his jeans.
“Fucking ass—stop choking me!” Harry shoved Neville off him, trying to stuff down the ache that was rising in him again. What the fuck was wrong with this kid? He glared when Neville got to his feet, the petite boy licking the sides of his mouth to capture more of Harry's blood.
“For someone who smells the way you do, you sure fight a lot,” Neville said, head tilted as he ran his eyes hungrily over Harry.
“Just because I smell this way doesn't mean I want you to fucking touch me, you shithead,” Harry growled back.
“Oh, I'm pretty sure you do,” Neville said softly, licking at his thumb once again. “I think you like it when I touch you. No matter what you say about it.”
Narrowing his eyes, Harry took a stalking step forward. Neville did not flinch away, meeting his gaze steadily. “Unlike you, Longbottom, I don't get fucking hard for it when some oaf is raping my mouth. That's your weird kink, not mine.”
Neville grinned, a new vicious look suddenly transforming the quiet boy's face. “Actually, Harry, I think it's just one of those many odd things we have in common.”
Harry started at the answer, a trickle of unease moving down his spine. Harry got hard over everything, even the things he didn't like, and he didn't need this fucked up boy to know it.
“Finding out you have a dog form too... It's just cool, isn't it?” Neville continued, lashes lowering, a faint blush rising on his cheeks. “My parents are as good as dead, while yours are completely. We both hate Snape, and we both really like boys... I bet I could like your dog as much as you liked mine, Harry,” he whispered enticingly. “I like a lot of things, if someone forces me to, hard enough...”
Neville might just have a crush on him, and was definitely fucked up. “I don't know what the hell other people have been doing to you, Neville, but count me out. I like strong guys, and you...” Harry didn't bother to finish the thought. It was obvious Neville wasn't strong.
Neville fell silent, eyes flickering in thought as he bit his thumb. He nodded his head, as if answering a voice only he could hear and took a step back. Eyes lingering on Harry a final time, Neville gave another disturbing smile. “Okay.”
He was gone before Harry could remind the boy to keep his mouth shut, whistling a strange tune as he walked down the hall. If Harry had anything in common with Neville Longbottom, he really hoped to stop. “Fucking weirdo.”
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Sleeping Dogs II