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
- 23
- 24
- 25
A/N: Thanks for all the reads, rates and reviews!

unneeded: You know, Ron wouldn’t be Ron if he didn’t bring up the injustices of the past, but he’s getting better the more he grows up (plus, you have to admit, SOMEbody had to and there was some serious history that needs settling before they can truly move on). And yes, you’re right, the first part of the blended names is where they came from originally and the last syllable is their secondary trait. It’s so funny what you said about Draco and Narcissa— Charlie agrees with you, practically in the same words in this chapter! (Have you hacked into my computer to read the rough drafts? ;)

delia cerrano: I love that you left such great comments! You make my day. Thank you! I’m flattered you get the ‘realism’ and I think you will be pleased with the boys in this chapter— they are SO sweet together! :)

~O~

ILLUMINATION, PART 1

All eyes were riveted on the blond, a man so different than the boy they had known. He took a deep breath, inwardly dispelling any last reservations and began in a deep, even tone— a far cry from the snotty taunts and whiney jeers they all remembered from their schooldays.

“The dubious honour of bringing that journal’s terrible intent to fruition was my birthright. The psychotic man bestowed that cursed diary upon me as a baby as soon as I was born. The way my father explained it to me two years ago was that he’d been given the item— during a clandestine exchange over my crib-- with the explicit instructions that I was to smuggle it into the school when I was eleven years old and it would take care of itself to continue Salazar Slytherin’s ‘noble work’.”

Everyone in the room froze in their chosen seats, hanging on every word. Even Ron was speechless (and that was saying something!).

“My father did not wish this for me, or anyone for that matter. He had been relieved that he’d had a decade of peace and had no desire to return to the way things were before that fateful Halloween.” He frowned and found that he could not meet Potter’s eyes at the mention of the date his parents were murdered but soldiered on:

“He certainly didn’t know what horrors the ‘thing’ would entail. All he knew was that he didn’t want it. Needless to say, he did not send it with me when I started at Hogwarts. He thought he wouldn’t have to do anything with the evil book at all since the Dark Lord disappeared years ago. But after the end of our first year and the whisperings concerning Quirrel’s body acting as a host of sorts for a bit of the Dark Lord’s spirit, my father panicked. If there was a way for Him to come back, He would brutally retaliate that his orders were not followed.”

The entire crowd was hushed, not wanting to break this streak of verbosity from someone who had information from ‘the other side’.

“After that, and all the increased raids done on known past Dark supporters’ houses-- my family’s included-- he knew he couldn’t have that particular suspicious artifact lying around. I don’t know if he knew exactly what the sinister creation was at the time, but it could only mean more destruction and of course he couldn’t bear to have it in his son’s hands. And he certainly didn’t want to be caught with something that was clearly malevolent—and reeked of the man’s magical signature-- in his possession!”

“He also didn’t trust Borgin and Burkes with it. What questionable, unspeakable horrors could happen with their specific…. clientele? What would an unscrupulous witch or wizard do if they got ahold of such an obvious catalyst for Dark Magic?” The blond shuddered.

Harry flashed on Lucius and twelve-year-old Draco getting rid of various items when he’d been hiding (ironically in the Vanishing Cabinet that would later wreak havoc in their lives) in the shady shop in Knockturn Alley after his first foray into Flooing went awry.

Draco dipped his head towards Ron on the couch. “He saw his opportunity to get the pishogue-plagued book into the right hands when we saw your family at Flourish and Blotts.”

(Ron scoffed and grumbled under his breath sarcastically, “right hands!”)

Hermione smacked her boyfriend’s arm lightly in a warning to keep quiet. Malfoy appeared unruffled by the interruption and continued-- in a most calm, unique and welcomed thread of truth that held none of any of the animosity they all remembered from earlier years:

“By placing it in the property of the man heading the raids and in charge of the Misuse office, he believed that a wizard in that position would know and sense what the vile piece truly was and bring it to the Ministry to be destroyed properly. My father didn’t want his name, reputation or kin tarnished by having it. And it wasn’t as if he could have just allowed it to be found in his home.”

At some of the varied incredulous and appalled looks denoting disgust at his father’s blatant self-serving skin-saving, he declared, “You can’t just waltz into the government, especially with his history, and have people know you held such a thing!” He shook his head. “He would have been judged without a trial just like Sirius Black! Simply for the familial connections! It was an impossible situation. No, it needed to be anonymous.”

Ron spluttered incoherently a bit until his girlfriend’s touch calmed him.

“Yes, it was long-shot to be sure, but I think that no matter how he regarded your family, Weasley, he knew that The Three Tenets would be upheld. Even a child with only one magical parent is taught them, fed practically along with their mother’s milk--   One: Respect and revere magic. Two: Never touch a wand unless you have permission and adult supervision. And Three: NEVER trust an inanimate object that appears sentient if you can’t see where it keeps its brain!’

In the silence that followed he asserted, “It’s elementary!”

Harry remembered Mr. Weasley telling them that last rule when the patriarch had been shocked and horrified after learning what had happened with his daughter in her first year; Arthur had looked deeply shaken that Ginny hadn’t shown him or her mother such a suspicious object that was ‘clearly full of Dark Magic’.

“What about enchanted mirrors? And the Sorting Hat? They talk….” Hannah asked. (Harry silently agreed, wondering that himself.)

“That’s simply a charm that tells about the image in the reflection.” Hermione waved off dismissively. “You can’t have a two way communication with it— the frame will only respond with another quip about your looks…. And as for the Hat, I think we can have faith in The Founders for establishing it and the fact that its benevolent magic has been trusted for centuries.”

The shy girl nodded in understanding, seemingly embarrassed that she’d spoken at all and looked back to Draco again.

The Slytherclaw cleared his throat, directing attention once again to the heavy topic at hand. “Even if Weasley Senior hadn’t sensed the dark magic of the book, the girl should have questioned it and brought it to the attention of her parents!”

Ron narrowed his eyes and demanded, “So, the whole fiasco with The Chamber of Secrets is her fault?!”

The blond shook his head at the redhead and furrowed his immaculately sculpted brows. “At the very least, she should have gotten rid of it as soon as it was clear it was compelling her to do awful things.”

“She did!” Harry exclaimed, recalling that although rather than doing the right thing and turn it in to a teacher, she’d tried to flush it down the toilet. Then he admitted, “She stole it back though, from out of my trunk…. tore up the whole damn room to find it, too.” His lips pursed in a grim line. “Ginny was always too selfish and greedy to give up having something special or unusual all to herself….”

(Draco blinked and surveyed his ex-rival in curiosity. He’d heard of the couple’s split from the paper but he’d been under the impression they parted on good terms. It also surprised him that her two brothers and Granger weren’t jumping down ‘The Chosen One’s’ throat and leaping to the chit’s defense over that last caustic comment.)

Silent realization broke over Neville and Dean’s faces, remembering the mysterious ransacking of their dorm back then. They were held enraptured by this conversation— no one had ever explained any of the events of that year to their satisfaction!

“That’s mental!” Ron breathed, secretly knowing that it was true, but wanting to defend his family. “Lucius based a potentially lethal plot to work that hinged on a first-year girl’s ability to be sensible?”

“He was just trying to explain the reasoning behind it….” Luna urged.

“Well, I never said it was a GOOD plan!” The blond rolled his eyes and sighed. He pinched the bridge of his pointy nose. “Quite the opposite, actually. In fact, most of the schemes my father concocted that didn’t include throwing his political weight around or employing blackmail usually ended quite badly. He gambled on random variables that he couldn’t control extremely poorly. I can admit that now…..”

“But what about ousting Dumbledore when it was all happening?!” It surprised everyone that it was Harry who blurted that out in a most Weaslean-fashion. “And Dobby was so sure they wanted the damn thing to purge the school that he tried everything to keep me from getting to school!”

Malfoy cocked his head at him, “That elf always was determined and impetuous. He must have only heard part of the story and rushed off….” He quailed at the collective icy glare he got and amended, remembering that it was the freed ex-Malfoy Elf that helped them to safety from his Death Eater-infested home (to which he was eternally grateful).

“He always DID have a mind of his own. Danced to his own drum, which is most unusual for his species. I missed him, you know? He always made me laugh, acting out Beedle’s tales to entertain me when I was young.” Then he added in a quiet voice, “I was pleased his strong will got you guys out of there….”

The group of former DA members and their Head of House were silent.

“As for Dumbledore, my father said he was shocked and terrified that the man might be losing his touch. He thought that— while his initial plan failed— it wouldn’t get as far as students getting petrified! As time wore on, he was sickened that the old wizard hadn’t pinpointed the cause, seeing as he was there for the first go-round and should have known what the Chamber’s monster was— and if he didn’t before, why hadn’t he figured it out the second time?”

The loyal, formerly-pure Gryffindors had to concede that. He’d been present at Tom’s first attempt, fifty years earlier, when it all went down and Myrtle had died— how did the wise wizard not know what was going on in their second year?

“There were dangerous, evil things happening right under his nose and Dumbledore didn’t seem able to put a stop to it!” Draco insisted (and it was true). “I think my father was hoping that someone new would step in and discover the problem and do something about it.”

“It really DID get out of hand….” Hermione murmured, nodding slowly and digesting this new information. (Harry was instantly chagrined that he’d never asked his best friend what it had been like to be Petrified— or Polyjuiced into a half cat, for that matter!)

“Well, it was taken care of in the end and nobody died.” The be-spectacled man stated in a tight, stern tone, effectively closing down the current line of conversation; after all, that Hellish ordeal had led him to be able to destroy the first Horcrux. (And, truthfully, he HAD always wondered why the seemingly omniscient wizard was able to let it get to such tragic lengths before things were resolved.)

“We could have died…. in the Department of Mysteries,” Ron grumbled (totally disregarding Harry’s obvious pain at losing Sirius at said Battle). “And what about Bill in sixth year? Malfoy let Death Eaters into the Castle! AND his father wanted to call Voldemort when we were at the manor. If it hadn’t have been for Dobby….”

“Ronald,” Hermione started in exasperation, “we’ve been OVER this! Sixth year was ‘obey Him or he and his family gets killed’. You even admitted you’d have done desperate things to protect yours!”

The sulking redhead averted his gaze and growled, “I know….”

The youngest Weasley brother knew it was true, in theory. He was just having a hard time letting go of all the times the (now) ex-Slytherin had hurt him and his friends’ feelings when they were growing up; despite the way the privileged Pureblood had obviously matured and mellowed (as was evidenced by his calm, neutral demeanor this evening) it was still difficult for him not to bring it up in order to get past the soreness.

“And again, Ron,” Luna said softly, her voice melodic and washing over them like a gentle stream, “he is not his father. By your reasoning, Neville could condemn Draco for his auntie’s torture of his parents even though he was just a baby at the time. He could hold you personally responsible for Mrs. Weasley killing Bellatrix LeStrange.”

“That’s different!” Both Ron and Draco exclaimed emphatically at the same time.

Ron gave a nervous giggle at saying the exact same thing and being unexpectedly in agreement with his former bully; he flashed the blond a tentative grin. Draco blinked at the synchronicity and then smiled faintly in return.

Malfoy gave the redhead a polite nod. “The world is a far better place without that mad woman in it….” He appeared haunted, relieved and contemplative all at once as he stroked his chin. “In fact,” he said, “I should send your mother flowers. Does she still reside near Ottery St. Catchpole?”

Harry could tell his best mate was flustered. He seemed genuinely surprised and appeased by the sympathetic sentiment in the blond’s statements— yet equally suspicious and wary of the way there were no derisive comments made about his family home forthcoming (that had been many-a-source of Malfoy’s insults directed specifically to him over the years).

*Ahem* “Yes, she does Draco,” Charlie stood abruptly and took command of the room by his looming presence, “but a bouquet is not necessary. It’s the thought that counts.” He clamped a hand on the blond’s shoulder and squeezed reassuringly then paced to the fireplace to address everyone.

(He’d been privy to the concerns of the staff that there was bad blood between his charges, but he’d had NO clue how deep and serious things ran, having sequestered himself out of the country for a decade. Maybe that had been a mistake…. He’d been off having fun and had no idea the things that had gone on in his family while his youngest siblings were growing up.)

Charlie had melted into the background in order to let things play out but felt the moment that things came to a semi-amicable conclusion was enough for one night. He was determined to cut it off on a high-ish note, especially since his baby brother hadn’t been able hold his tongue over a multiple ‘elephants-in-the-room’ situation and any more revelations right now could potentially ruin any of the progress made so far.

(Yes, Minerva would CERTAINLY be getting a piece of his mind tomorrow, damnit!)

“Right,” he clapped. “Well, now that some old, stale air has been cleared and Ron and Draco have found at least one thing in common, I’d like to go over the rules.”

The group tensed. They had all but forgotten that they had a teacher in their midst. No one was quite sure how their freely-flowing tongues would be taken by someone in charge.

“Firstly, I want to make this perfectly clear. As of tonight, we are all family. We will treat each other with care and respect. Everyone will be nice, helpful and courteous. I don’t doubt that there will be disagreements and bickering from time to time, as among all brothers and sisters, but I will not tolerate any truly malicious or hurtful intent.”

He paused to stare each occupant in the room down individually in a show of dominance to ensure obedience. Then, Professor Weasley shrugged and smirked with a devious gleam in his eye. “I can give detentions and take house points, but where’s the fun in that? There’s no rule that says I can’t prank a miscreant for any wrong-doing.”

Ron protested, knowing his big brother wouldn’t hesitate to publically embarrass him. Hermione was quick to point out that WWW products were forbidden, clearly not entirely comfortable with deviating from the usual school protocol and regulations.

“Well, it says they aren’t allowed for students, didn’t say anything about the staff,” he replied nonchalantly and flicked out his fingers as if he was shooing away an annoying Billywig.

“And anyway, I don’t need to resort to store-bought gimmicks. Where do you think the twins learned the foundation of all their mischief-making?” He was chuffed at the paled complexion in between all those freckles on his little brother’s face. “What? It’s a law of Nature— the older kids torment the younger. That’s just how it goes.”

Ron was the only one in the room who knew just how true that was. Everyone else was an only child, at least biologically. Although Harry was well acquainted with Dudley’s brand of ‘big-brothering’, he knew that his cousin’s harsh treatment of him was never done with an underlying sense of fraternal love like his adoptive family. The brunet shook his shaggy locks to dispel those ancient memories and then smoothed them back into his ponytail as Charlie continued:

“Second, while we are in here, at HOME, we will all call each other by our first names. You don’t have to become best buddies with everyone, but we will be civil and friendly. I insist on it.” Again, his glare showed everyone he meant business.

The younger generation looked amongst themselves; could this really work with Malfoy in the mix? Sure, he’d been behaving all right tonight— and The War had undoubtedly knocked him down a peg or two (or twenty) but would he be able to resist reverting back to his former ‘holier-than-thou’ attitude? Only time would tell….

“McGonagall seemed to be most worried about grudges between Draco and you three,” he indicated Harry and his best friends with an upturned square palm, “with you, Ron, posing the biggest problem of moving on,” he said, pointing an accusing finger at his own flesh and blood. “AND I’m inclined to agree, based on what I’ve seen and heard tonight.”

Ron was about to splutter in perceived betrayal, but given the chance to think it over, had to cop to the fact that Harry and Hermione had indeed been making much more of an effort to get along and that he’d been the most outspoken this evening. Even he had to admit that Malfoy had been pretty decent and not trying to purposefully antagonize anyone.

(He made the right decision to remain quiet. He was happy to get a sweet kiss to his cheek from his girlfriend for his self-restraint.)

“Hermione,” Charlie addressed the clever witch seated to the left of his brother, “we both know that Ronniekins has a quick temper and a serious case of ‘open-mouth/insert-foot’ syndrome, so I may need you to form some sort of sexually-based system of rewards and punishments to keep your boyfriend in line and motivated to think before he speaks.”

The bushy-haired Gryffinclaw woman pursed her lips in disagreement over the appropriateness of such remarks in front of an audience, but settled for a single nod so as not to appear prudish to her classmates or contrary to the man that was their friend. She had to reluctantly admit that he was doing a rather good job at rallying the troops toward a more harmonious future with his unusual methods so far.

A blush had also spread across her fair features over his remarks as well; she already employed those techniques to modify her boyfriend’s behaviour— with admirable success and results so far. His boorishness had been severely cut down since they’d all grown up (and they’d started having sex). She’d curbed the worst of his bad habits-- everything from ALWAYS talking with his mouth full to remembering to floss his teeth regularly.

But she wouldn’t put money on possible random and spontaneous, knee-jerk reactions resurfacing in the face of dealing with Malfoy. Especially if something the ex-Slytherin said goaded her hot-headed boyfriend, whether the young man provoked him intentionally or not. (After all, Ron had been known to take things out of context now and again.) She could only hope her positive reinforcement would be enough of an incentive to keep the peace.

The charismatic leader of their little crew pressed on:

“That being said, you are now adults so I must impress upon you the importance on being exemplary role models for the younger years. I know you’re of age, but you still have to follow the school rules during classes and in the halls. But in here, you’re free to do what you want, within reason.”

Pleased, approving looks filtered through the group at his last words.

“There is a kitchen area for snacks and tea,” he gestured an outstretched arm indicating beyond the seating area, “but I really would prefer if you go to the Great Hall for true meals. There is much more selection and balanced nutrition to be had there. We have a bar and I don’t mind if you have a few in your free time after you’ve taken care of your work for the day. You are also permitted to have overnight guests in your rooms, provided you keep the door shut and silencing charms up.”

The two couples snuggled up closer together on the couches, Luna bringing her legs up over Neville’s knees and Hermione bringing the entwined fingers to her lips to press a soft kiss to her beau’s knuckles. They were all clearly happy they wouldn’t have to skulk around like they were doing something wrong.

Harry smiled slyly at his boyfriend; he couldn’t wait to bring him back into his new room to christen it! (It had been nothing short of torture to go back to keeping their hands to themselves these past few hours after having the whole Summer of being so free and uninhibited with their affections. He didn’t know how he was going to withstand a whole year of this public abstinence!)

Yes, being back at Hogwarts they would still have to be secretive about it since there was the teacher/student dynamic that would be frowned upon, but since the man wasn’t his professor and he was of age, their relationship wasn’t strictly forbidden or quite the scandal it would be for normal reasons. But there was there was the Headmistress’s threat of banishment from the grounds if they slipped up to contend with if they were careless and got carried away.

The sexuality of The Boy-Who-Lived (twice) would still undoubtedly make news all on its own and he wasn’t ready for the wider population of the school to know he was gay just yet, much less the rest of the Wizarding World (though he was heartened that it wouldn’t seem out of place for Hannah and Malfoy to be aware that someone was sharing his bed at night).

“Can Allyson visit on weekends?” Dean asked, clearly wanting his sweetheart’s company when he could get it and jealous Neville and Ron had their girlfriends close by all the time.

“Sure,” Charlie answered breezily, then turned serious and growled, “but-- and this goes for all of you-- if your grades start to slip (Hermione gave an indignant squawk, offended that anyone could think she’d lose sight of her priorities) privileges will be taken away until you can prove yourself a responsible pupil again. All right?!” He pinned them all down with a critical eye.

Everyone nodded. It was fair.

Actually, it was more than fair— it was downright cool.

They could have been stuck with some strict, old-fashioned professor that still treated them like little children and wouldn’t have let them indulge in the grown-up freedoms they’d gotten used to over the past year. The least they could do was treat the opportunity with respect and repay that favour by behaving responsibly.

And somehow, with Charlie’s easy-going attitude and friendly personality, it made them want to prove his trust wasn’t misplaced; he was regarding them like young adults and no one wanted to disappoint him. It was a testament to the man’s leadership style that he gained compliance through a willingness to please rather than simply intimidation and threat of punishment.

Harry’s heart swelled with admiration; he was SO proud of him.

The dragon-handler clapped his hands again. “Good. Now that we’ve gone over the rules, are there any questions?”

Neville queried, “So is this room going to disappear when we all have to leave it at the same time? How are we to summon it up if someone asked for it to be something else and is currently occupying it?”

Charlie was stumped.

That didn’t seem to make any sense at all! For the first time, his confidence was truly shaken. He did NOT like being caught-out and feeling wrong-footed! Recovering quickly, he replied, trying to inject a sense of suaveness he didn’t completely feel at the second, “Yes. It will be here for us, keyed to our signatures and if the password changes everyone will be alerted.”

(He inwardly cursed McGonagall AGAIN for not giving him all the information; obviously the kids knew more than they’d been letting on! First, with the feeling he’d got from the students when they arrived at the new lodgings and now these odd questions about a solid room vanishing or changing or some-such?! It made him realize the old witch left a LOT out of her explanations. He would MOST CERTAINLY be discussing this at the earliest convenience!!)

Blanketing his blanching reaction with calm, he proceeded with his original plan; he shook off the uncharacteristic emotion of feeling off-balance and not being in command of all the facts. “OK, well, right. Now we’re going to do a team building exercise before we turn in for the night.”

Ron sprawled out as he groaned, “Aw, Char, NOOOOO…. Don’t be such a nerd!” His eyes were rolling in protest until they settled on— “AH!” His pained grimace brightened into a broad grin at the sight of his big brother summoning a bottle of Firewhiskey and nine shot glasses.

Dean and Neville smiled and straightened up in their seats with anticipation. Draco just raised a pale eyebrow at the unconventional authority figure but remained silent; a drink sounded pretty good right about now to settle his nerves in this highly uncomfortable, unusual situation.

“Charles Arthur!” Hermione admonished, “Is this wise?”

“Oh hush,” he waved her concerns away. “It’s a time honoured tradition in building camaraderie and an act of celebrating the start of a new, exciting venture together!”

At the still skeptical expression on the witch’s face, Charlie explained as he ripped the foil wrapping off the cap, “We’re all of age here and there’s only enough in the bottle for a couple gulps apiece. After that big feast, we’re hardly going to get drunk. It’s just to take the edge off and let our hair down a bit. A pleasurable, shared group activity promotes a sense of community….”

Popping the cork, he waggled his eyebrows at her in a playful leer, “Unless you’d rather have an orgy to achieve the same goal.”

Charlie chuckled at her red face (and ignored the honey-blonde Ravendor’s hopeful countenance) as he poured them each a portion. He levitated the tiny cups to Hannah and Draco first, both occupying the rooms two single armchairs, and then one of the sofas seating Dean, Neville and Luna and lastly to the trio on the other.

Picking up his own he raised it and cheered, “To the blended House! May it always be splendid! To unity!”

Everyone echoed the toast and tossed back their shots in varying degrees of enthusiasm.

“So, Hannah,” their leader remarked once her coughing had died down, “I think I know the very least about you out of everyone here. Tell me about yourself.” Charlie turned on the charm in his cock-eyed grin, the one that never failed to get a witch all a-flutter; he’d been told many times that sustained eye contact from him always got him mushy tittering from any female, anytime, anywhere.

“I-I’m…. nothing,” the shy girl stuttered, melting at such an intense show of the elder Weasley’s attention and how all the room’s focus was suddenly on her. “There’s nothing to tell.”

Charlie ‘pshhd’ in a noise that signaled his disagreement with that particular assessment, “That can’t be true. Everyone has something they’re good at. Everyone has a special talent.” It was his eager and openly interested expression towards her that spurred her on.

“Erm…. I was in the Gobstones club and choir until they were disbanded in fifth year by Umbridge,” she offered in a tiny voice and refused to look at anyone. “I liked being in the DA.” She flicked her gaze timorously to Harry and then Neville, then back down to the empty glass held limply in her hands.

Charlie smiled widely at the girl, settling himself on the floor next to the coffee table in between the two armchairs with his back to the merrily crackling fire. “Excellent! Does Flitwick still make you all gargle with vinegar before a performance?”

The group looked at him oddly and the timid Huffledor nodded mutely.

“What?” he questioned their strange stares, “I learned that lesson the hard way.” He chuckled and absently rubbed his jaw, lost in the memory of getting slapped across the face for refusing to continue kissing the girl he had been seeing until she’d brushed her teeth. “A word of wisdom, Hannah— If you’re going to go snogging someone after a concert, eat a Peppermint Imp first— let it really dissolve on your tongue and swish your spit around your teeth before you swallow, OK?”

The mousy girl giggled and blushed at getting make-out advice from the new (very handsome) teacher.

Charlie grinned and turned to the bloke to his left. “Draco? What hidden talents don’t we know about you?”

The Pureblood seemed to be in a silent battle with himself until he quietly answered after a long, thoughtful pause. “I can play the piano, violin and harp….”

“Wow, maybe you’ll play for us sometime and Hannah can sing!” Charlie looked enthused, open and accepting, like he was genuinely having fun. It was contagious. It was definitely putting everyone more at ease. He poured them all another drink (and indeed, that was all that was in the bottle). After they swallowed and hissed through the burn, Charlie turned to Dean.

Taking that as his cue to contribute, the dark-skinned man said, “I can draw and paint fairly well. This year I’m going learn how to animate portraits.” The group nodded mutely in acceptance. Most of them knew that already, but it was new to the two that hadn’t been in his House during school or present during the Restoration.

“I can look at a partially empty pot or tray and gather the exact right amount of soil needed to fill it without having to measure first,” the budding botanist offered without being asked, figuring they’d be going down the line and each telling the group a little bit about themselves. “And I’m working on some hybridization experiments,” Neville tacked on to the end of his confession.

Luna smiled fondly at her boyfriend and then declared proudly, “I’m able to see Nargles and Wrackspurts, even without Spectrespecs. And I make a very tasty Dirigible Plum jam.”

“As long as there are no Gurdyroots in it….” Ron mumbled under his breath. (Hermione stifled a giggle and pinched her boyfriend’s arm before she buried her face in his bicep.)

Charlie was about to ask what Luna meant but his brother’s voice called his attention away. “Your turn, little bro.”

“I….” Ron frowned and shook his head.

“You mean you aren’t going to list on your résumé about how much food you can put away in one sitting?” Dean teased, getting everyone to laugh. “Mate, how can you possibly forget that no one can beat you at chess?!”

There were murmurs of agreement and encouragement and Malfoy surprised them all by smirking good-naturedly (an odd look on his face, for sure), speaking up in an amused tone, “Would this special skill be somehow related to ‘the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years’ that earned you fifty points at the end of first year?”

“You remember that?” Ron asked easily, any animosity currently forgotten. Hermione and Harry both subtly reared back in their seats, exchanged glances and then and watched in awe; their best friend’s wariness of Malfoy was clearly fading if he was able to interact willingly with the man without a trace of contempt in his tone!

Charlie smiled as his plan seemed to be working. It was a good start and he was optimistic they could build on this new development.

Malfoy answered, plucking at his robes in a nervous tick to appease his restless hands but announced without a hint of bile, “It was kind of hard to forget, seeing as it contributed to Slytherin losing the House Cup….” Then he added in a faint air of reminiscence, “Well, that and the fact that if Dumbledore thought it was so great, you might be a worthy opponent to lose to me. Crabbe and Goyle were never a challenge….”

It was a positive sign that Ron didn’t immediately jump on the comment about losing; he seemed to realize that he just may have found somewhat of a friendly— yet slightly antagonistic— seasoned combatant. And that those remarks had been formed from the vantage point of the eleven-year-old Malfoy’s mind.

“Great!” Charlie exclaimed. “You two will have someone on par with your own level to play. I know my little brother is bored with us, especially since he’s pretty much guaranteed to win every time.”

“I don’t suppose those two were. I’ll beat the pants off you,” Ron said with a gleam in his eye, eager for the chance to play a well-matched game for once.

Draco glanced at him, noting the honest excitement there and stated dryly, “I’d like to keep my pants regardless of the outcome.” Then he gave a genuine smile of his own and dipped his head in a light bow, refolding his robes about him, “I welcome a skilled adversary on the board.”

Hermione quickly cut across the moment of silence that followed to gloss over any discomfort or awkwardness that might crop up between the two boys having just been involuntarily set up to spend time in what would be a direct competition. She also didn’t want any clumsy, misspoken words to be uttered that might occur if they continued to banter, potentially deteriorating what was shaping up to be a pleasant, yet astonishing, detente of sorts.

“I know how to ski! Both downhill and cross-country….. ice skate and I’m certified in SCUBA diving.”

“Skoooo-bah….” Charlie rolled the sounds around on his tongue. “Isn’t that the Muggle version of a bubble-headed charm?”

The bushy-haired witch silently laughed to herself. Arthur had obviously tried to explain it at some point; he’d always been fascinated by the inventions of Muggles that allowed them to bypass magic to accomplish a similar feat. “More or less….”

“Well, I know Harry here has a wealth of talents,” Charlie remarked.

(Harry squirmed at suddenly being placed under a ‘Lumos Maxima’. He also didn’t like the glint in his lover’s eye. He prayed to any and all deities the man wouldn’t bring up his technique with giving mind-blowing blowjobs that he always praised and gushed over every time.)

“Relax, Little Man!” Chalie laughed with the gleaming glitter of sapphire sparkling in his irises. “I think we all know about your Seeker’s skills, flying against and stealing a golden egg from the nesting mother Athena, talent with Patronuses, and a whole lot of other things the general public have witnessed over the years…. But there IS something not everyone here knows about you.”

(This did nothing to quell his anxiety.)

Hermione and Ron looked curious, wondering what the elder Weasley thought they didn’t know about their best friend. They knew everything, right?!

Harry cringed and gritted his jaw, trying with all his might to somehow telepathically tell his big-mouthed boyfriend not to spill anything too embarrassing.

But Charlie wouldn’t out him to Hannah and Malfoy, would he? He hadn’t, so far, to the World leaked the information— but he was insisting on the new House being as close as family. He wouldn’t make him want to die of mortification by blabbing about the things his lover told him he excelled at in bed. He wouldn’t, would he? The expectant silence seemed to go on forever and Harry felt faint.

“He’s an excellent gardener.”

(Harry’s breath left him in a whoosh of relief.)

Charlie’s voice echoed in his head as if from far away. “He’s got a knack for tending the crops. This Summer he could go for hours. He always got really Zen and meditative whereas I could only stand about thirty minutes and then be bored out of my skull. That’s a unique skill!”

There were murmurs of surprise, and then Neville said, (in an almost hurt tone), “I always thought you didn’t like Herbology all that much….”

The brunet grinned through his relief at his friend. “I didn’t, I don’t,” he replied, having practically forgot Malfoy was in the room so that he was able to interact like normal, instead of being overly cautious and closed-off in front of an enemy. “Magical plants are dangerous and can attack you! Give me regular, safe fruits and vegetables any day….”

And then he remembered why he enjoyed the manual labour over the last season as opposed to weeding for the Dursley’s. “Having good company helps….”

“Oh, and he’s great at making friends.” Charlie tossed in there before he was about to dismiss everyone for the night. “Thanks guys, I guess we can all go to—“

But Ron accused, “You didn’t tell anyone about yourself! I know a lot but you should have to spill dirt too!”

Charlie laughed. “I hardly call what anyone said about any proud accomplishment tonight that should be referred to ‘dirt’. But yeah, ask me whatever you want.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “I’ve got REAL dirt…. AND real accomplishments!”

There was a low din that made him raise his voice slightly, “Everyone can think of ONE question they’d like known and I’ll answer them all tomorrow individually, in confidence. I am, after all, your Head of House so we have to keep some of the mystery alive. But for now, bed I think.”

They stood and filtered one by one (or actually, two couples went two by two). Draco rose to take his leave as well, but Charlie called him back.

“Hey white dragon, come here a minute!” Both Harry and Charlie saw his still formally-robed back and shoulders tense and then turn with a stiff smile on his face. “We’ve got something to show you.”

Malfoy seemed to be quickly calculating and evaluating the motivations and reasoning for this unexpected meeting; he seemed at war that he should comply or run for his own self-preservation.

“Budge over, Babe,” Charlie muttered under his breath as he plonked himself next to Harry on the couch. The brunet’s heart rate and pulse sped up from just the simple touch of the man’s hip against his; he had to quell the erection that wanted to grow right then from finally being in close proximity to his lover. Charlie patted the empty cushion on his left side, encouraging the ex-Slytherin to sit. “C’mon now…. I won’t bite.”

It was unreal to see Malfoy so docile and compliant towards a known Gryffindor. He sat stiffly— his posture perfect, all prim and proper-- making sure there was enough space and his robes fell daintily about him in just the right drape. But his eyes lit up with curiosity when Harry produced the photo from within the pillows beside him and passed it over.

Charlie gripped the frame in his lap, smiling fondly at the image of his adoptive family— the boisterous Preserve crew was gesticulating and (silently) singing around a shy but happily smiling Harry. Tiger had scrawled across the bottom, ‘Happy B-day, Little Man!’ followed by a heart and a smiley-face.

After a brief nostalgic moment, he tipped it toward Draco, the angle allowing him to peruse it to his heart’s content without interference. When the redhead heard the hitch of breath, he confirmed, “Yeah, that’s Nick.” He tapped the glass over the tall Norseman, “I told you he looks like you!”

Malfoy quirked an eyebrow, obviously biting his tongue over a million questions that may or may not come across as being rude. He settled for, “You went to the Romanian Preserve, Potter?” (Charlie murmured, ‘Harry. In here he is Harry’.) “You got to see dragons?”

The couple could hear the faint undercurrent of bitterness. The brunet gave a mysterious, sheepish grin and said, “Eventually…. We worked on the farm a lot and hung out with everyone in the evenings. It was great to be surrounded by people that didn’t give a damn about all that Boy-Who-Lived crap, especially after getting mobbed in Diagon right before we left.” (Now it was his turn to have a sourness to his tone.)

The blond gave him a shrewd look, appearing to mentally re-calibrate his preconceived notions about his schoolmate. An indiscernible cloud crossed his features. “I remember the press surrounding that incident. The reporters lamented for weeks that you had become unreachable again after that. So you spent the Summer there?”

“Yeah!” Charlie interjected, trying to lighten the mood again. “Harry said Nick reminded him of someone, but I had NO idea how similar you would be. You should meet him! You could come with us when we visit on Christmas Eve….” The redhead seemed oblivious to the two sets of wide-open whale-eyes looking anxiously at him from that crazy, way-too-early trip suggestion.

“I gotta send him a picture of you now, though.” Charlie barreled on ahead effusively, getting ahead of himself in his enthusiasm. “They’ll never believe me otherwise! Would you let me take a picture of you?” he asked eagerly, but then his face fell. “I don’t have a camera….”

“Dean does,” Harry offered as Malfoy nodded permission in the affirmative for a recording of his visage. “You know the girls are going to want to know everything. They still want more images of us so they can put them up in their cabin….” Harry turned to face his former rival around his boyfriend:

“This is SerenaRose and MaryAnne,” he pointed them out respectively. He left out any mention of the dragon caregiver’s Patronuses to avoid the inevitable subject of ‘ferret’ that would undoubtedly crush the tentative truce that seemed to be happening at the moment. (But to be honest, if you didn’t know what you were specifically looking for in the shining mist, all the forms seemed to blend together in one ethereal, luminous, undulating cloud.)

Harry knew Malfoy didn’t necessarily care about the others in the picture. He was nervously babbling a bit to fill the strange space made by Charlie’s insistence that they bond over showing the image of the Slytherclaw’s distant relation. So far, Malfoy had been acting really decent and it was almost enough to forget all the antagonistic history they shared.

“We should get someone to take a group photo like this of all of so we can ‘Engorgio’ it to portrait size and hang it over the fireplace!” Charlie announced suddenly, his eyes and grin bright and sharply slapped his own thigh. “THAT’S what our home needs! And McGonagall owes me a big, fat favour at this point, so she can’t fucking say no!”

The blond startled a little at the loud outburst and coarse language, but smiled and nodded in agreement with his new Head of House. (He was truly grateful for the opportunity the burly man was giving him to be a part of a familial group and didn’t want to mess it up. Also, the Professor’s openness and conviviality were refreshing; he was a truly gifted conversationalist.)

Draco recovered a little of bit of his composure. “Do you have photos of the dragons you care for? I would be interested to see them sometime when it is opportune for you….”

“I do, somewhere….” Charlie replied absently, his mind clearly elsewhere. “Well, if you come with us at Christmas Eve, I can show you some of the ones closest to the Homebase like Norrie. We’ll only be there for a day, after all. But if you want, we can take you along next time we check on Blanca.”

At the Slytherclaw’s quizzical look, Charlie launched into a huge, theatric explanation of his role with the Gringott’s Ukrainian Iron-Belly residing in the Forbidden Forrest. He chuckled at the astonishment that couldn’t be concealed under that calm mask; finally each little fissure and crack that threatened to shatter it this evening made it come crashing down.

“That beast really DID escape the Bank?! Don’t tell me you three actually broke in and rode it out of there, Potter!” His tone was more of awed shock than angry accusation as he finally looked at the reluctant celebrity square on and straight in the eye.

(Again, Charlie corrected him, softly saying ‘Harry’.)

“I thought those stories and photos were forged to increase the bounties on your heads! A Muggleborn impersonating a Pureblood with a stolen wand? Unforgivable’s used? Blackmail and deceiving Goblins? It was all too fantastical! Only the Ministry could make up something so unbelievable and insane just to further their agenda!”

He threw his pale, aristocratic hands in the air, wordlessly moving his lips and shaking his head, until he pulled his wand. “Accio!” (It was a testament to Harry’s perception of the whole situation that he didn’t even draw his own at that motion, finding turst even this early.)

It took a minute for the yellowed parchment to soar through the hall and into Draco’s manicured hand. Charlie snapped it up and looked upon the newspaper clipping with glee.

There was their girl scrambling above Diagon sniffing the air, blindly destroying rooftops with clumsy talons and spreading broad wings with three little blurry black blots clinging to her back. He shuddered at the thought that his brother, the love of his life and his sister (well, as good as) had been so desperate and courageous as to attach their lives to a dragon-- a beast he was well accustomed to being ruthless and lethal, needing no provocation whatsoever to singe, char and eat whatever little thing moved in their peripheral vision!

(No one asked or offered an explanation as to exactly WHY the blond had snipped and saved the cutting involving the three people he’d been in opposition to since he’d been eleven. Nor was it told why it was so wrinkled and worn as if it had been handled many times though remained in good condition none-the-less.)

“And yet it happened,” Harry hissed in a low, serious tone that raised goose-bumps on the arms of his companions, reminding them both of the almost ominous power the man held under the surface; that reaction was combined with the thought of the extreme danger, one tiny slip of any single factor in either direction that could have made the outcome of the Wizarding World so different, more horrible than could even be imaginable.

“We were desperate for an item in your Aunt’s vault so we could destroy Voldemort once-and-for-all when it was time to come face to face,” he quietly explained. “And then Griphook twisted around the deal we had with him when all Hell broke loose. The only way out alive was a long-shot on the back of releasing a blind, angry dragon…. We ALL did crazy things during The War, Mal— (he felt a deliberate poke his shoulder-blade) Draco.”

Charlie wanted nothing more in that moment to throw his arms around his man and squeeze him until his beautiful eyes bugged out, but restrained himself. (While a show of affection and support might be appreciated in that second, later on, in the light of day it might cause more problems than it was worth.)

The older Weasley brother could tell Draco wanted to interrogate for more information, but it would have to wait. This was enough for today. (As it was, Charlie’s beloved would most likely be having a nightmare after dredging up so many intense memories— and he was determined to be there for that should he be needed.) Harry didn’t need any worse than this night’s cathartic conversation would provide.

The redhead cleared his throat and remarked, “You have to admit, that was abso-fucking-lutely brilliant though. And it worked! AND now I have my very own dragon to take care of here and can still see all my charges and friends at the Preserve during the Summers. Really, you have to come next time we visit!”

Neither ‘eighth-year’ was completely sure if he meant Blanca in the short-term or the reptile colony abroad next Winter but it successfully got them thinking of something a lot more optimistic to look forward to, rather than wallowing in their dark pasts.

The fiery-haired gent withdrew with honour. “Well, we should sleep on it, in any case.” He stood with an odd bow, non-verbally indicating that they were done with this conversation for now.

“I’ll let you know when we’ll go next into the Forrest, see if you have the time, Draco. I know you’re taking a lot of subjects this year….” Charlie clapped the stunned blond on the shoulder, “Plus, it would be nice to fly there even if Harry isn’t available for Thestral-spotting duty…. Walking the ground path gives me the creeps!”

Secretly watching and standing in the dim shadows of the archway for any sign of trouble, Harry’s two best friends stood arm in arm, each with a hand available to grab their wands if need be.

When things proceeded peacefully— even with seeing some genuine smiles between their Harry and the boy who had tormented them all for years-- they could barely comprehend it.

Ron wheezed, “WONKY….” in disbelief at the amicable display of the two rivals sharing pleasant words (and still diplomatic exchanges when some things brought up were very touchy subjects).

Hermione, equally breathless at the tableau of Harry and Malfoy being brought together as friends by Charlie whispered, “Surreal”. (It wasn’t clear if she was merely correcting her boyfriend or simply adding to Ron’s assessment-- but it was probably a combination of the two). They left for the witch’s room when the odd trio rose from the couch to go to bed.

Charlie had barely finished saying goodnight at Draco’s door when he was yanked by his sleeve into Harry’s new place; he was shoved against the slammed-closed door and attacked by lips, teeth and tongue.

“You’re brilliant!” the brunet panted in between nips , laving all over the tattooed man’s jaw and neck, “So fucking sexy!” Frisky fingers scrabbled all over his meaty torso, tearing the older wizard’s shirt off. “Incredible…. Beautiful….” He licked over the hard pecs as they were bared; sinking to his knees, he ripped at the trousers in his way with poor hand-eye coordination.

“I want you so bad, you have no idea. I need you in me. You have to fuck me! NOW!”

Charlie gasped at the sudden and overly intense assault. “Charms!” he barely managed to growl and set about silencing the room. He wasn’t sure what had got his young lover all riled but he had to make sure. “This isn’t about Draco, is it?”

The brunet paused in his mauling and looked at him in utter confusion, blinking behind his fogged lenses that were sitting askew on his flushed face. “What?” He truly didn’t know what made his lover say such a thing. His pulse and blood were whirring (and not so much in his brain). It didn’t make any sense. “Huh?”

“Not that I’m complaining, but are you all fired up because of Draco?” The redhead twitched a little, voicing his insecurity over the perceived tension between those two that could possibly be sexual. His heart felt like it was thudding in his throat, right up against his tightened Adam’s apple.

Charlie hadn’t ever felt like this before (except once and it didn’t mean as much). He was unused to feeling in serious competition with another gorgeous guy for the object of the man he was crazy-in-love-with’s libido.

The worry over Nick’s interest when they’d arrived for the Summer had been fleeting since Harry’s continued to rejection of the man— who had been a stranger had been comforting-- his boyfriend had a long history with this new bloke and anybody with eyes would have to be blind not to see that the fair blond was good-looking.

Harry stared at him for a few more moments and then burst out laughing at the sheer absurdity of the question.

“Shut up,” he chided fondly as his breath died down to intermittent chirrups, deciding it was all a joke. He continued trying to undo the fly before his face, intent on sucking the cock hidden in there, moistly mouthing over the cloth until the garment was gone and its owner’s strong legs were reduced to jelly.

Charlie pushed back on the shoulders of the man that was kneeling before him. It was strange to him that he would call a pause to the proceedings and needed reassurance when he was about to receive such pleasure. The dragon-handler wanted to know that his lover had him in mind and he wasn’t simply a substitute at the moment.

Weird. He’d never cared about any fantasizing before he’d gotten together with Harry; in the past, he’d only focused on chasing his own release and hadn’t given a flying fuck as to the internal motivations fuelling his partner. But now….

That realization made him feel a bit frightened at such vulnerability.

Harry frowned at being held at arms-length when all he wanted to do was worship his boyfriend’s body and render him so out of control that the tattooed man had no choice but to take his ass. Brutally. Forcefully. So in command. Just like he’d shown how he could so deftly control the assortment of friends and enemies that comprised his new house.

(NOW he could fully appreciate how power could be seen as an aphrodisiac, like Bella seemed to get off on Voldemort’s rule-- except in this case, it was an entirely positive, beautiful force that was so attractive that had him ensnared.)

“You can’t be serious,” Harry whispered, his hot breath gusting over the denim-clad crotch in front of him. He looked up, his emerald eyes brimming with unbridled ardor. Charlie whimpered as Harry rubbed his face all over the front of his jeans and confessed in an almost anguished cry, “I want you. It’s only ever been you!”

Why was Charlie saying such a thing about Malfoy, of all people?!

At the still half-skeptical expression on his lover’s face, Harry asserted, wondering why this would be any different for him, “My Patronus switched to bear! Yours was a cute little buck until we figured it out!”

Harry felt a painful twist in his gut. “Maybe it’s YOU who wants him!” he accused, hurt and leant back on his haunches. “You were being all nice to him!”

“Of course I treated him with human decency!” The redhead defended. “That boy obviously needs kindness and understanding! But I’ve TOLD you— I’m done and you’ve ruined me for anyone else. There is no one else for me! Ever again! You’re the one who hasn’t explored other options and avenues. We can all tell that there is something between you two!”

“Of course there is! That bloke and his father made our lives utter shit for years! I’m surprised we held it together THAT long without arguing, insulting or hexing each other!” Harry snarled.

“But he must have changed, grown up…. He seemed pretty decent to me!” Charlie rebutted. “He just needs a chance. It was obvious he was being excluded by you lot that have been mates and banded together for years. You all have the advantage and he has nothing but a target on his back. He’s returned at a huge personal risk to his life. You have to admit, making an Unbreakable Vow that he can only use Shield charms and nothing else in case he’s attacked? That takes balls.”

“OK, yeah,” Harry conceded, finally seeing it from his former nemesis’ perspective, “He’s different than before. If he keeps this up I can make friends but you should keep your guard up a bit more— not take everything as completely genuine and at face-value.”

Though he’d agreed, he had to proclaim with his next breath, “We might be able to coexist just fine but I will never want him!” (He made sure to gust his hot exhalations over his lover’s crotch to entice Charlie back to the fire he’d wanted to incite in the first place.)

“You banish that thought right now! He’s not my type. I like big muscles,” he purred, massaging his boyfriend’s legs and buttocks. “I love feeling your furry face on my skin…. I love your heart. I love YOU,” then added as an appalled afterthought with a playful swat to his plump rump, “And ugh, shit, Char! Don’t ever mention Malfoy’s nuts again! The only balls I want to think about are yours!”

He returned to open-mouth kissing the waning bulge under the cloth of his lover’s pants. His nose nuzzled up under the stiffening shaft and paid attention to the hanging flesh underneath. Charlie smiled and had to admit that the continuing ministrations and placating words were making it hard to stick to any misgivings he’d had before. Harry moaned, sending vibrations through the redhead’s most sensitive body parts, shooting tendrils of lust under his skin. (And the green-eyed incubus was successfully making him hard again.)

The brunet managed to open up all the layers of fabric keeping him from his treat and began placing little kisses over the heated shaft, speaking amongst languid licks.

“I’ve been going mad all day!” *slurp* “I barely saw you.” *slobber* “We didn’t even get to eat dinner together!” *suck*

(Charlie had to admit— it HAD been really difficult this afternoon and evening to be apart for so long, after having been basically joined at the hip the past several months— and especially after being to be so open over the Summer! It really HAD been horrible to go back to keeping their hands off each other. And NOT just in a sexual way…. It was the myriad of casual caresses throughout the day they’d both been missing and craving.)

(It was going to be a long year….)

Harry pressed his lips to the fat, leaking mushroom-head and hummed. “I couldn’t touch you!” He moaned, gripping one of the man’s thick thighs in desperation, the other fondling his bald scrotum in his palm most reverently; strumming his fingertips in a compelling rhythm along the underside of the wrinkled skin, he tantalizingly included stroking the smoothness of the perineum with his middle finger.

“I couldn’t even snuggle with you when everyone else got to!” he whined (when he disengaged his mouth long enough to speak). Charlie’s hips bucked when the tip of Harry’s talented tongue dug and delved into the slit and a guttural groan escaped him. “You are so masterful…. So sexy…. So amazing….”

He couldn’t put into wholly inadequate words his emotion towards how delectably wonderful the man was. Harry had to let instinct and action take over where his vocabulary so woefully failed him.

The brunet suddenly sucked the whole length into his mouth, startling Charlie beyond endurance and his skull smacked the door behind him; he spluttered incoherently as he was sent into sensory overload. The artistically-inked man was more than mollified by this response-- and pleased beyond measure that his beautiful lover shut himself up by putting his mouth to good (no-- scratch that-- excellent) use!

(Perhaps the frustration of withholding would work in their favour? It was certainly going to be most difficult otherwise. But if THIS was the explosive reaction after one day forced apart, he could easily envision many evenings ending this way— and couldn’t be happier!)

“Get on the bed, Little Man….” Charlie growled, full of the need to take and stake his claim all over his lover again. Overwhelming desire flooded his veins by a wave of testosterone when he gazed at the brunet’s flushed face and chest heaving. The strong man snapped his lover’s belt out of Harry’s jeans’ loops, threw it away and shoved his eager partner’s pants down.

Harry was more than eager to comply. This was everything (and more) that he’d wanted! He almost tripped over his feet as he attempted to kick his way out of his boots and willingly bent himself over the edge of his bed. The Gryffinin needed the newly-instated instructor to screw his brains out.

“Fuck me, Charlie!” Harry wailed. “Please!” he begged as he wiggled his hips, waving his butt in the man’s general direction in the hopes that it would be alluring.

He felt— rather than heard— the spells to clean, stretch and lube his ring and rectum. He fully expected to be filled from behind; he had not anticipated being manhandled, violently stripped of the denim tangled around his ankles and tossed around like a toy. He suddenly found himself bouncing on his back atop the mattress at the mercy of a man on a mission.

“Yessssss!” Harry cried as he bit back a scream, digging his nails into the colourful images of dragons on the shoulders of his lover when Charlie plunged his prick in and buried it to the hilt.

Their coupling was frenzied and frantic, both an affirmation of their commitment to each other and a reassurance. The two had to prove to each other that even though they weren’t able to outwardly show their affections in public, they loved each other exclusively and more than anything in the World.

Their second round was slow-- a languorous rocking of hips peppered with tender kisses and sweet words of adoration and appreciation. But it was no less passionate than the earlier energetic mindless rutting they’d shared.

They were joined as ONE. Wholly. Irreversibly. That much was plain.

They could deal with whatever may come as a united front…. Later.

But for now, it was only them. Inseparable. The only people in the Universe…. Nobody else existed outside of their new bedroom. Nothing else mattered.

~O~

A/N: I am SO glad I found a vehicle in order to put my ‘two knuts’ in regarding my personal theory of a possibly plausible, (semi)good!Lucius with his plan for Tom’s diary without having to resort to writing a sexless one-shot. (Cuz, you know, we all come to ADULTfanfiction for the sex, drugs and rock-and-roll! ;P   If we didn’t crave the smut and swearing, we’d just stick to the brilliance that is the books! Haha.)

Hope you enjoyed that one and come for the next go…. It’s in the works!
- 23
- 24
- 25
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

WONKY CROSS