Pleasure and Pain | By : Ninjette Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 1532 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
He was waiting behind the Gryffindor tower after the Quidditch match. His mouth tasted bitter with the loss 170-60. The burly sixth year still wore his sweat stained green robes, his broomstick lying haphazardly in the bushes. He had thrown it off for something more attractive to him at the time - Derrik's bludger bat. The Gryffindor team had already hurried back towards Hogwarts, no doubt to celebrate their victory. A snarl crept on his face at the idea of the joyous Gryffindors drinking butterbeer and playing Snap. But his snarl turned into a grin when he saw the flash of maroon coming through Gryffindor tower. And the flash was alone. It didn't even know what hit him.
***
"That was an excellent game, Harry!" cried Ron in the Gryffindor common room. People were high-fiving Harry as he stumbled joyously toward a chair near the fireplace. Finally, he fell down next to Ron and Hermione, who grinned at him fiercely.
"It was nothing," said Harry. "I couldn't have done it without Fred and George." At that, a set of redheaded twins raised their glasses and shouted. The room echoed their approval. The Weasley twins were the best beaters Hogwarts had seen in ages. Whether it was from their keen ability to hit flying objects with accuracy and speed, or the lighthearted joy they found in causing trouble, no one knew.
The celebration went on late into the night. Everyone from Gryffindor was there, even Hermione, who would normally have settled off to study her lessons long ago. Everyone, that is, except Oliver Wood. Angelina Johnson had realized his absence early in the evening, but no one seemed concerned. Fred and George figured he was off practicing for the next match. "That man never stops!" exclaimed Fred. "Ever since he's become captain, he loses sleep every night out there on his bloody broomstick." Everyone laughed and the party carried on until the last Gryffindors crept up to their beds.
***
It was quite early in the morning when Flint returned to Hogwarts. He quietly made his way through the hallways in hopes of not calling the attention of Filch the caretaker, or worse, his cat Mrs. Norris. Flint was a variety of shades, from his dark green Quidditch robes, to the dark red-orange mud stains on his knees, and the bright green grass stains in patches across his uniform. And then there was the blood. Not much. There was a bit on his collar and some on his neck. The dried flecks were barely visible on the bat he swung carelessly in his right hand, his broom securely in his left. Blood cried out from the cracks and lines in his knuckles, but he didn't seem to notice. He continued on through the corridor until finally reaching the Slytherin house.
***
"Anyone seen Wood this morning?" asked Harry at breakfast. He was eager to have Wood show him the plays he had already prepared for their next match versus Ravenclaw. Harry was especially nervous about that match, as he would be competing for the golden snitch with Cho. Harry didn't think he'd ever seen eyes as beautiful. But Cho was a year older than him, and Harry didn't think she really ever saw him, not even when he was sitting across the Great Hall from her, as he was now. But she did occasionally smile. And then Harry melted on the bench.
"Harry," Ron said irritably. "I asked you to pass the pumpkin juice about three times now."
"Sorry," said Harry, unwillingly taking his eyes off Cho. He passed Ron the pitcher and then glanced back toward the Ravenclaw table, but Cho was already gone. His heart sunk, Harry glanced at the empty seat next to Fred and George and realized his original question. "Anyone seen Wood?" he asked again.
"Come now, Harry," said Lee Jordan, the Weasley twins' closest friend. "We all know Wood gets up at the crack of dawn to practice. God knows where he does it though. Crazy man he is. Crazy about Quidditch." Harry nodded, but he wasn't completely content with the answer.
***
After a grueling potions lesson with Slytherin, the first year Gryffindors hurried toward the common room to relax a bit before supper. "I'll see you guys later," said Hermione, leaving the boys for the library. "I'm going to study on Wolfsbane."
"Brown noser, that one," said Seamus. If only she knew that even making good grades won't make Professor Snape like her. Gryffindors and Slytherins are sworn enemies. Always been that way, always will. Even between the professors and students."
"Oh come now," said Dean. "Snape can't hate us simply because we're in a different house."
"It's not just a different house," interjected Ron. "It's the rival house. It's the enemy house. Trust me, Hermione has just a good a chance at being Snape's favorite student as Harry has at being Malfoy's best friend." The group laughed wholeheartedly, especially Harry. He had long ago forgotten about Wood. That is, until he saw him in the Gryffindor common room.
***
"Wood, my man!" cried Lee Jordan, who had ran into the first years on their way through the portrait hole. "Sweet keeping yesterday!" Jordan high-fived the Quidditch keeper before moving on toward his room. Wood half lay-half sat in the chair closest to the fire, still dressed in his Quidditch robes, which lay ruffled about him, torn in a few places, with green, red, and orange stains about them. His hair was unkempt, an unusual trait for him, but it certainly matched the rest of his appearance. A bit of dried blood resided in the corner of his mouth.
"You look beat," said Harry, sitting down next to him.
"You coming Harry?" asked Ron as he walked up the stairs.
"In a bit." Ron, Seamus, Dean, and Neville continued to their room, closing the door behind them. Harry sat alone in the common room with Wood, the only sound being the fire cackling at them from the fireplace. "You alright?" Harry asked again, his brow furrowed with concern.
Wood's glazed stare settled on Harry's face, his eyes slowly coming into focus. "Oh Harry," he cried, his eyes brightening. "Great job catching the snitch yesterday. I'm quite proud to have you on my team."
Harry's face flushed, but he smiled with thanks. "Hey, Wood, do you think we could work on those Ravenclaw moves today? I've been thinking about it during Charms class and I - "
"Not now, Harry," murmured Wood. "I've had a long night. I stayed out too late practicing and fell asleep on the Quidditch field. I think I'm going to head up to the room and rest for a bit."
Harry eyed Wood curiously. He knew Wood loved the sport, but he had no idea his passion ran so deep. "No problem Wood. I'll catch you later." He clapped Wood on the shoulder and made his way up to the room.
***
But Wood wasn't at supper. No one had seen him since Harry had left him in the Gryffindor common room. "Don't worry about it," said George. "He does this sometimes. I swear; you first years worry about everything. Wood's a big boy - fifth year - he can take care of himself. He probably just needs some rest."
Harry finally dropped the subject. He really needed to stop being so paranoid. He really didn't have much of an opportunity to really dwell on the subject. "That was pretty nice Potter," came a voice from behind him. He didn't even have to turn around to know that the cold voice belonged to Draco. "It would have been nicer if you had choked on the snitch though. As if you didn't already make a fool of yourself on the field."
Ron jerked around, wand in hand, but Harry pushed it back down. "Back off Malfoy," Harry warned. "I got the snitch, didn't I? And Gryffindor won. Obviously we're a better team than Slytherin. Besides, I don't see you on it."
Malfoy's face became that of spoiled milk. "Watch what you say Potter. We wouldn't want anything to happen to our new star." With a Slytherinesque snarl, he turned and stormed off, his goons Goyle and Crabbe following obediently behind.
***
Wood was at Quidditch practice the next morning looking quite refreshed. He was flying in loops about the Quidditch field as though he hadn't a care in the world. The team trudged onto the field, brooms in hand. "It's 6:30 in the morning," yelled Fred at the figure twirling above them in the sky. "Just because you slept all day yesterday doesn't mean we should have such an early practice."
Wood came spiraling down toward the team, making a perfect landing. "We only have three more weeks until the match against Ravenclaw," he said stiffly. "We will practice every morning from 6:30 to 8:30." A collective groan emitted from the other six players on the field. "Next week, Ravenclaw plays Slytherin, a match we need to watch very carefully. They have been working on their strategies this year and we need to be prepared to defeat them." Wood paced back and forth in front of the team as he spoke, his hands behind his back. He stopped in front of Harry and looked at him sternly. "Harry, I want you to keep a close eye on Cho. She's the Ravenclaw seeker." Harry gulped, hoping no one had noticed. "Now remember, just because she is a girl doesn't mean you shouldn't go to all means to acquire that snitch."
"Y-y-yes Wood," said Harry. The team snickered. Harry puffed out his chest, eager to show them he wasn't afraid of a girl, no matter how beautiful she was. "I'll watch her very closely." Satisfied, Wood began pacing again, giving a half hour long speech before letting the team fly up to the sky to practice drills.
***
It seemed to Harry that the week would never end. He was so exhausted after Quidditch practice every morning that he had a hard time staying awake in class, especially Professor Binns' History of Magic class. But then there was Saturday. No practice on Saturday because of the Ravenclaw - Slytherin match. Harry hurried onto the field with Ron and Hermione, eager to get good seats. The teams were already up in the air, zooming past each other. Lee Jordan had already sat at his usual place to commentate on the game. Harry was full of excitement. This would be the first Quidditch game he had ever watched. When Madam Hooch walked across the field, the teams took their places, hovering in the air, the Slytherins snarling menacingly at the Ravenclaw team.
It was a blazing fast match, the Ravenclaw team trying desperately to get the quaffle through one of the three rings. The Slytherin beaters appeared to be making it their goal in life to break every bone in the Ravenclaw chasers' bodies by sending the bludgers careening toward them. Ravenclaw was down 10 points to Slytherin when Slytherin's seeker Terrence Higgs caught the snitch.
The green side of the stadium cheered manically as the teams dismounted and rushed towards the stands. Slytherin's captain, Marcus Flint, yelled with the rest of the house, but strayed behind, flying around the stadium in circles. The crowds slowly left the field, headed towards Hogwarts for rest, studies, and lunch, leaving Flint behind on the field to make his victory laps.
***
Flint felt the wind rushing through his hair and over his face as he flew around the rings on both sides of the field. He was overjoyed at their victory, putting the score at Gryffindor 1, Slytherin 1, Ravenclaw 0, Hufflepuff 0. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff would compete the following weekend, followed by Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. Slytherin would not have to compete again for three weeks, a time Flint could spend working with the team over plays. Finally content with flying for the day, Flint landed roughly on the field and headed toward the Slytherin tower. He was hungry, a sensation in his lower abdomen urging him to quicken his pace.
Flint pulled the cloth off the entrance to the Slytherin tower on the Quidditch field and glanced quickly to his right and left. Satisfied, he continued across the tower toward the other side. As he reached for the cloth, a figure fell from the rafters onto his chest, landing him squarely on his back. Flint opened his eyes just in time to see a fist flying toward his face. He could have stopped it, but he didn't. As it slammed into his mouth, Flint could taste metal. The fist came back again, this time landing across his cheek, and then his chest. No one could hear the blows as they came, again and again.
***
Flint never cried. He was born into a hard family and he learned to be hard. He could take more pain than the average person, not because it didn't hurt, but because he never let it show. He never believed he'd have a weakness until he came to Hogwarts. He limped slowly toward the school, his broom over his right shoulder. His mouth had stopped bleeding and as long as he didn't turn his head too sharply, there was almost no pain. He needed to clean himself up in the bathrooms before anyone saw him. The professors would likely take points away from Slytherin house for his being in a fight, and the Slytherins would never let him live it down that he'd actually been hit.
***
The weeks droned on after Gryffindor defeated Ravenclaw. After the match, Wood disappeared again to the confines of his room where no one could rouse him, not even for pumpkin juice. But he appeared again two days later on the Quidditch field, 6:30 a.m. for practice. The following week, Hufflepuff was ruthlessly defeated by Slytherin. The team summed up their courage and best tactics the next weekend against Gryffindor in an attempt to stay in the tournament for the Quidditch cup, but it was hopeless. While Hufflepuff captain Cedric Diggory was an exceptional keeper, the Hufflepuff team just wasn't well picked this year and Angelina and Katie easily maneuvered through the Hufflepuffs to score. While they scored rarely against Diggory, no quaffles made it past Wood. In the end, Harry's eye for the snitch won Gryffindor the game.
The Quidditch field was a mass of maroon and yellow, as the Hufflepuffs, never to be described as sore losers, congratulated the Gryffindors on a well-played match. The students carried Cedric and Wood on their shoulders all the way to Hogwarts.
***
Wood heard the light footsteps behind him in the corridor. He quickly ducked into a classroom, aware that Filch was probably on patrol. He couldn't bear to see Gryffindor lose points on account of his being out of bed. As he eased the door closed, he was aware of eyes watching him. Whirling around, Wood expected to see Mrs. Norris, but saw nothing; rather, he felt something. A hand slid around his throat while another pulled at his hair, pulling him toward a table. The one hand squeezed while the other pulled, until it finally pressed Wood's chest against the table. He was aware of a hot breath on his neck, becoming more rapid as the person pulled his hair.
Eyes stinging, Wood elbowed his attacker squarely in the chest, making the hands finally release him. Pulling himself up, he hit the person squarely in the jaw and threw him down on the hard table. He could only make out a silhouette in the dark room, but he placed his hands firmly on the figure's shoulders and pressed his mouth against the dark one now at his mercy. The kiss was hard, like the bulge growing inside his pants. His attacker threw him off with such force that Wood hit the table across from them and slid to the floor.
"It's about damned time you show up," sneered Flint. "Too busy with your victory celebration?"
Wood gingerly touched the lump forming on the back of his head. He couldn't handle pain as well as Flint, but he was learning to. The wonderful feel of knuckles against his face and stomach took the pain away. And then Flint helped take away what little there was left. He was standing over him, and Wood became aware of the significant bulge under Flint's robes. Reaching out, he grabbed Flint's erection and pulled himself off the floor, Flint's eyes rolling slightly into the back of his head.
"I couldn't brush off Harry," Wood said after he was standing face to face with Flint, his hand still firmly gripping his cock. "It's funny, everyone follows that kid around, and then he has to follow me around. Great kid, but you just can't shake him."
But Flint wasn't looking at Wood; rather he was looking at the way Wood's neck moved when he talked. Bending forward, Flint ran his partly opened lips from Wood's ear to his collar, and back again. Wood's grip on his cock slackened and then tightened again.
Circling his other arm around Flint's waist, Wood buckled slightly under Flint's mouth. Flint pulled his wand from his pocket and transfigured the table into large pillows, which he slowly laid Wood on, laying himself on top of his heaving chest, Wood never releasing his grip on Flint.
***
When the Hogwarts students hurried through the corridor for breakfast the following morning, the classroom door was opened, the tables arranged just as they should have been, with no sign of having been violated the previous evening. As always after a match, Wood wasn't among those in the Great Hall. He had stumbled into the common room at some point, waking Neville as he sat sleeping by the fire. Shocked by the entrance of the fifth year who he greatly admired, Neville scurried to his room.
***
As the Christmas vacation neared, the students of Hogwarts seemed to suck in the festivity of the décor throughout the castle. The school held a Yule Ball every year during the Christmas term. Most students stayed to enjoy the celebration, only few leaving from shyness or the inability to get a date. Girls giggled behind their hands as boys walked by, waiting with their hearts pounding for someone to ask them.
****
Of course Oliver had stayed. People expected him to. People would start to wonder if the tall, attractive, master of the rings went home instead. He could come up with no good excuse as to why he wasn't going to the Yule Ball. Not only would people give him a sideways glance, but his parents would be concerned as well. There was no way their Oliver wouldn't be able to get a date. But now, now he had to ask someone.
"You're a fucking bastard," growled Flint, knocking Wood across the ear. Pain shot through his body as teeth came down. Flint swore, reeled his head back, eyes rolling, in a world between pain and pleasure. Eyes watering, Wood twirled and flitted his tongue.
Flint threw him off, onto the cold floor. Wood glared at him, propped up on his arms, hate instead of tears burning in his eyes. God, Flint loved that look. He felt a sensation starting at the base of his cock and racing up his spine. He went to Wood with such speed, Wood's arms almost buckled. Their mouths met, their tongues touching, tasting, prodding, Flint's knees on either side of Wood's torso. Wood tilted his head back, leaving his neck open to Flint's hot mouth.
Wood emitted a small groan as Flint pulled up his robes and pulled his shirt from his pants. Fingers stretched across his flat stomach and chest, feeling, groping, searching hungrily. A few swift movements and Flint had released Wood from the confines of his pants. Wood crammed his hands into Flint's hair, clutching rhythmically at the dark locks. Hands stiffening and then slackening, Wood emitted a small cry, losing his ability to hold himself up on his elbows.
"Take one of your Quidditch bitches," said Flint. He wiped his mouth as he left the room, giving Wood one last glance as he lay exhausted on the floor.
***
"He looks so stunning," Katie murmured. "Lucky fucking bitch."
"Don't get pissy with me Katie," said Angelina defiantly. "He asked you first, but you had already said yes to Fred." Her eyes followed Oliver as he made his way through the crowd, drinks in hand. His black dress robes accentuated his athletic body. "So what do you think are my odds?"
Katie shook her head slightly to get her thoughts out of Oliver's pants. "Well, he said he wanted to leave soon, so I'd say they're pretty good." She murmured her approval as Oliver crossed the last few steps toward them. As he handed Angelina her drink, Katie whispered in her ear, "You'd better tell me all about it in the morning," and then wandered through the crowd to find Fred.
Through Millicent's hair, Flint saw Oliver and Angelina leaving the party. His face was overcome with a grin while a low growl emitted from his throat. "Marcus," gasped Millicent. "I didn't know you liked me like that." Marcus just smiled. It had been a while since he'd been with a woman.
***
Millicent moaned as Flint kissed her neck. She rolled her head forward to press her lips against his and met his eyes. She searched them eagerly for lust, passion, and pleasure, but found them blank, empty, and indifferent. Her body became rigid in his grasp, anger pounding in her temples as his hands found her breasts.
"Fuck you, " she whispered, gripping his hands and throwing them from her.
"Isn't that what we're working up to?" Flint asked.
"I'm just another good old fashioned fuck to you, aren't I? That's all this is." Her voice rose, becoming desperate. "You just needed to satisfy some animal hunger! That's why you asked me, wasn't it?"
Flint smirked. "You give yourself too much credit."
Millicent's anger flooded to her fingertips as the palm of her hand met the hollow of his cheek. "Fuck off," she growled, leaving Flint in the forest, a red brand pulsing in his cheek. As he touched it, the pain made him wince, and his lower robes twitched.
"No hun," he murmured. "That's what I needed to satisfy my animal hunger.
***
Wood woke with a start, shocked to receive the owl post so late at night, and especially not on his chest. The owl hooted, irritated, as Wood fumbled for a sickle to shut the thing up before it woke the whole room. The last thing he needed was Percy awake. With the owl gone, Wood unrolled the parchment slowly and smiled. There were only two words on it, but he had already stiffened underneath his sheets.
***
Walking with a hard on made the hike through the woods extremely difficult, but Wood had refrained from masturbating before he flew out the window. He preferred someone else to take him in his hands - or mouth - or -
His mind went blank as he gazed at Flint's body stretched across a large exposed root, his own erection clearly visible beneath his robes. "How was Angelina?"
Wood grimaced as he cleared the last few feet to Flint's long, lazily parted legs, eyeing them as his tongue flicked across his lips. "Angelina could never please me, bouncing on me like a jackrabbit."
Flint's cock twitched beneath his robes, the blood pulsing hard enough to sting his eyes. He enjoyed the idea of Wood being tortured. But they had waited long enough. His foot shot forward, meeting Wood's hard stomach, doubling him over. One hand on the pain, Wood snatched Flint's cock and dragged him to the ground with him.
***
"Get your head out of the clouds Weasley!" Oliver shouted. "No! Goddammit! Not you Fred - George!" Oliver landed roughly on the ground, throwing his broom down in frustration, grass flying. The team came down slowly, putting some distance between them and her captain. "What the hell is wrong with you guys? Like a bunch of damned Hufflepuffs out there!" The team flinched. "We've only got one game left in the season and you guys appear to have left your Quidditch skills on vacation!"
Angelina stared at Oliver in wonder. It had been three months since the Yule Ball and Oliver had been unavailable every night. She tried to seduce him into accompanying her to the Astronomy Tower, but had to take George instead.
Oliver's voice jarred her thoughts. "We're tied for the Quidditch cup again this year and we're not going to lose to Slytherin!"
Katie glared at him, feeling her nerves popping. "Fuck you Oliver," she growled, her voice barely audible. The team stared at her, shocked, mouths dangling. "We'll win the game, I can assure you that. We're the best goddamned team this school has ever seen. You will guard the rings, the girls and I will score, the twins will beat the snot out of the bludgers, and Harry will catch the snitch, just like always. Then we'll all go home and celebrate. But before we can do any of that, you need to stop acting like a prick."
Oliver opened his mouth to respond, but closed it slowly. "We'll meet tomorrow at 6:30," he said softly. Head down, he trudged toward the Gryffindor Quidditch tower. Harry went to follow, but Katie grabbed his robes and yanked him back. Oliver was ripping the seam more than he knew.
***
Harry eyed Oliver quizzically across the table. He hadn't touched his food much today, pushing it around on his plate as he always did before a Quidditch match, but that wasn't for three more days.
Feeling the eyes on him, Oliver looked up and met Harry's. He smiled. "Yes, Harry?"
Harry had imagined what he would say to him a million times in the past week, but everything left him as he looked into those hurt eyes. "Katie," he mouthed. "Angelina."
Oliver's eyes flickered, but he nodded and resumed toying with his food.
***
Soaring through the stadium, Oliver let himself go, throwing his anxiety to the wind as he took his place in front of the three golden rings. As the other players took their places for the showdown of the season, Angelina and Katie turned to smile at him. The lecture he'd received had been brutal, but the make up had been amazing - for the girls at least. Oliver's thoughts had been elsewhere, but they weren't as attuned to the signs as Millicent.
Madam Hooch's whistle jarred his thoughts as blurs of maroon and green streaked through the air. Oliver lost himself in the game, letting go, letting his body react as it always had, following the quaffle and stopping it from entering the rings. Lee Jordan's voice boomed over the crowd, but it was lost to Oliver's ears. It wasn't until Angelina almost knocked him from his broom with a hug that he realized they had won the game. Heart bursting with pride and eyes blinded with unshed tears of joy, Oliver raced to the ground, swarmed over by maroon and gold.
"We fucking did it Oliver!" screamed Harry, as they were hoisted on Gryffindor shoulders and led toward the castle.
Oliver made to reply, but the words stuck in his throat as a bludger hit him squarely in the chest, breaking his ribs, sending hot pain searing through his body, making him tumble to the ground.
"Mr. Flint!" screamed Professor McGonagall. "Sixty points will be taken from your house for your inability to play fair! You will serve one week of detention with Filch! Now get off this field before I change my mind and have you expelled instead!"
As Oliver's world blackened, he caught sight of Flint on his broom, an intense sneer on his face that chilled Oliver to the bone, yet made blood in his pants pulse. He would meet Flint that night after he was released from the infirmary, after he had a chance to celebrate with the Gryffindors, after Flint had served his detention, after both of them had become so hot for each other it hurt. They would kill each other one of these days in their pursuit of pain and pleasure, but they would have a damn good time getting there.
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