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""Serpensortia""
The sixth year Gryffindor boy's dorm basked in
the musical sounds of slumbering students. A soft summer night breeze wafted in
through the open casement windows, freshening the snore filled air.
Ron snored, pulling in a fresh gulp of
nature's breath to refuel him for the litany of music yet to come.
Seamus whispered to his pillow, "Oh yeah,
baby. Rock my world, Bini."
Dean made a snorting noise, almost as if he were
responding to his friend. He added a laugh.
Seamus growled, but continued, "Cum on, cum to
daddy. Show me wha'cha got."
Ron snored, more loudly this time thanks to
fresh air.
Dean made a wuffing sound and pulled his
blankets over his head.
"Sod off, Snape," came from Neville,
spoken with sharp determination.
In the bed closest to the open
windows, Harry was thrashing in the throes of a nightmare. "No," he said angrily,
within the physical, crossing over into the realms of dream.
In the misty place somewhere between conscious and subconscious, known to some
as dreamland, Harry was enveloped by sadness as he made
his way to the lake. Everyone was sitting by the still water listening to Albus
Dumbledore's eulogy. Hagrid and Gawp were sitting together in mournfulness.
Everyone who was anyone was there. All of the Weasleys were there, Bill
included.
Each professor contributed to words of
praise for the Headmaster, while adding their own tears.
The Minister spoke. Even in dreamscape,
Harry tuned him out.
Harry, sitting with Ginny, felt the
mournful sadness that had engulfed him since the night on the Astronomy Tower. The
experience was enhanced in its horror under the eerie green glow of the Dark
Mark in the sky, and his father's invisibility cloak. It would forever be frozen
in his mind.
Harry closed his eyes as he tried to erase
the vision of Draco Malfoy standing before Dumbledore with his wand at the
ready. The thought of, 'He didn't do it,' filled his brain in this otherly world
- extending its way to his physical self tucked away in bed within the
Gryffindor boy's dorm. As the thought traveled from dream to physical, Harry
lost track of what was happening as the mists picked up and spiraled thickly
around him. Fragments came floating through . . .
"You don't get it . . ."
Harry flinched angrily in his
sleep, hitting his pillow in reflex.
". . . prize for the Dark Lord
. . ."
"Fuck you, Draco!"
"No," Harry repeated louder this time. The
breeze in the dorm caressed him provocatively, bringing no solace whatsoever.
Thrashing about in his bed, Harry became entangled in his blankets. Lying on his
stomach, he buried his face into his pillow, biting it as if it were attacking
him. With a sudden burst of energy, he sat up. Prone next to the edge of the
bed, Harry fell with a loud crash.
"Ow! Fuck!" Harry's arse hurt like hell from the
violent contact with the ancient boards beneath him.
"Wha?" Ron sat up. "Alright . . . Harry?"
Harry pulled his blanket, which was
half on the bed and half wrapped
around his legs, up to cover himself. Breathing heavily, he said, "I'm okay. Just a
dream."
"He knocked you on your ass, eh, Harry?"
Seamus smirked sleepily at Harry still on the floor.
Shaking his head, Harry stood, still keeping
his blanket close. Frowning, he reached for his glasses on the bedside table and
crawled back into bed.
Ron groggily shook his head, not amused by
Seamus' comment.
"Come on, Harry," Seamus coaxed,
more awake now. "Tell us
about him."
Ron growled and glowered at Seamus.
Harry ignored them both, closing his bed
hangings.
"I said, sod off Snape!" Neville roared out in
his sleep. "Twenty points from Slytherin."
Ron and Seamus laughed aloud and settled
back down in their beds to return to sleep.
Dean, still asleep decided to
join in by snoring, ending with another wuff before becoming silent once more.
Harry smirked at Neville's comment behind the
security of his bed hangings. Although he thought twenty points insufficient for
murder. Not wanting to disturb his dorm mates again, he cast a silencing spell. Slowly, almost as if he
were in complete disbelief, Harry pushed his blanket away. Clinching his jaw, he
swallowed while looking down at his throbbing erection. Damn, he thought.
A summer breeze somehow found its way into Harry's
cocoon, bringing in the sensual whisper, "Shut up and kiss me. . . ."
Harry rubbed his face fiercely trying to make
the voice go away.
". . . kiss me . . ."
Harry groaned, lying back, closing his eyes.
"No," he whispered to the voice.
The voice drawled out once more, "Can't you
feel it, Harry? Just shut up and kiss me."
Harry moaned, it started somewhere deep within
and came forth with its own brand of Gryffindor stubbornness. This wasn't the
first time he had dreamt of Malfoy. That didn't stop it from bothering the hell
out of him. Biting his lip, Harry thought, I have to break up with Ginny.
She'll understand if she thinks it's because of the war.
"Hey, psst, remember me?"
Harry glared at his erection, hissing in
Parseltongue, ""Damn. No, I did not forget you. Sod off.""
Laughter filled the inside of Harry's mind,
his cock jumped - reminding Harry that he tended to be impertinent.
Rolling his eyes in annoyance, Harry slid his
hand across his abdomen relishing in the feel of his fingers.
"Hah! I knew you were a push over."
Harry grasped his cock, giving it a teasing
fondle. ""You think you belong to him, don't cha?""
"Yup. He's the reason I'm here."
Harry smirked, and then inserted his fingers in
his mouth - smooth friction was always great. Cupping his balls with one hand,
he applied the moisture with the other. Thus, his feral dance of self-seduction began. Stroking
his cock, Harry threw his head back, emitting sounds of pleasure. Light
flashed behind his closed eyelids; a vision of Draco Malfoy standing by the lake
taunting him - bringing up his desire and rage.
Hot needles prickled his skin
from deep within, coursing like fire through his veins.
Thrusting upwards into his hand, Harry cried
out.
His cock whispered, "Don' cha love it? Tighter - yeah, that's it. Cum on, wank me . . ."
Gasping out, Harry decided that his hand
wasn't enough. Rolling on to his stomach, he hissed out in Parseltongue, ""I'll wank, ya . . ."" Thrusting into the friction
the sheet beneath him gave, Harry
moaned and picked up speed. ""Cum on,"" he hissed out in Parseltongue,
""cum on . .
. cum . . ."" Thrusting harder and faster, Harry poured out all of his
unrequited passion, "Fucking wanker . . . Malfoy . . . !" Somewhere within the
deep recesses of his mind, Harry found his anger with Malfoy. Growling fiercely,
he pushed it to the edge of reason.
Everything within the angry
vortex of his emotions changed. . . .
Breathing rapidly, Harry felt the tightening around his balls. With
one final thrust, he yelled, ""Fuck!"" His orgasm surrounded him with
the released anger he felt at Malfoy - transforming its essence into a blissful
agony.
Groaning, Harry lay very still.
Slowly calming, Harry rolled over
and stared into the darkness blanketing him. Reaching up, he pulled his glasses off
- they were crooked from nisus anyway. Lyying within the afterglow of orgasm,
Harry's breathing calmed to match the slowing rhythm of his heart.
Harry allowed his thoughts to
wander back to his earlier dream.
Dreams were a funny thing for
him. The visions that he had from Voldemort were horrifyingly real. Other
dreams, wet dreams were pleasurable. Then there were the dreams that didn't fit
into those two categories. These were dreams where Harry felt as if he was
really there - on a physical level. Again, not like the ones he had from
Voldemort. That's why this was different. It was almost like the wind riding
that he had read about once when doing research on the magickal Picts. He
shuddered. Malfoy. Was it real? Did Malfoy really say those words to him?
Sighing, Harry reached up to his
headboard and found his wand where he kept it hidden within reach. After a quick
cleansing spell, he replaced it into the nook he had created just above his
head. Being number one on Voldemort's hit list brought out strange behaviors in
some. That was why Harry kept his wand so close, even closer than the bedside
table.
Harry settled himself back on his
pillow and contemplated the dream. What little he could remember was foggy
within his mind. It was Dumbledore's funeral, and then he was alone out by the
lake afterwards.
". . . kiss me . . ."
There they were again, luscious
in their resonance, bringing his desire up again. Gritting his teeth, he thought
of Aunt Petunia in a towel. Oh yeah, that worked. Ha,
that's one cure. I have to think and don't have time for you right now.
His cock twitched, and then rested
comfortably curled down in comfortable repose.
The funeral is in the morning,
Harry thought. Well, we'll just have to see if it really happens.
Reaching for his blanket, Harry closed his eyes and snuggled down into his
pillow.
"Don't you feel it, Harry?"
Harry growled in response,
pulling his pillow over his head, finally falling into a disturbed slumber.
Breakfast in the Great Hall was a somber
affair. Harry grumbled as the atmosphere gave him the feeling of
suffocation. Jabbing at his sausage, he assaulted it angrily.
"Harry . . ."
Ginny's voice cut through the haze of emotions
Harry was experiencing. Looking up into her questioning eyes, he gave a vague
shrug. Leaving her gaze with a sense of guilt, Harry's eyes traveled around the
hall taking note of those who had already left Hogwarts. Like the magnet
pulling a compass needle to north, Harry's eyes stopped their journey at the
Slytherin table. He sighed.
"Wha'sa matter, mate?"
Ron's bad habit of talking with his mouth
full usually amused Harry. Not today. Scowling at his friend, he said, "It's the
funeral, what do you think it would be?" Sarcasm tinged his voice as he glared
irritably at Ron. Returning to his previous entertainment of decimating
the sausage, Harry allowed his mind to wander. Malfoy,
who knew that his absence would bug me? What the hell is this all about? An
empty hollow - that's what it is. . . . Harry's thoughts trailed off into
oblivion.
Finally, when his sausage was completely destroyed
on his plate, Harry stood with a grumble.
"Harry . . ."
Shaking his head, Harry said, "I need some fresh
air. I'll be back in time."
Ginny rose to join him.
Harry bit the inside of his cheek, met her eyes
and gave a rough shake to his head. "Not now."
"Harry, what is it?" This question came from Ron
and was followed by a grunt when Hermione elbowed him roughly in the ribs. Ginny sat
down muttering under her breath, something about Harry falling into a pit of
depression.
Harry was already on his way out of the Great
Hall, completely putting his friends out of his mind. Stopping just outside the
double doors, Harry looked around the Entrance Hall. Allowing his eyes to travel
up, he studied the moving staircases. Being a student at Hogwarts for six years, one
tended to take their magical presence for granted. Harry smirked when he noticed
one staircase moving, and then stopping at the infamous third floor corridor. Turning, he made his
way to a side courtyard where he could be alone with his thoughts.
Entering the courtyard was a breath of fresh air.
Harry inhaled deeply, and then let it out through his teeth, filling the
courtyard with a hissing sound. Walking to the bench that was next to the
fountain, he sat down and allowed the essence of nature to embrace him. The
water in the fountain sang in harmony with the birds that were happily nesting
and feeding within the nature filled courtyard. Harry inhaled deeply once more,
this time catching the mingled scents of lavender and rose. He let his breath out with a
sigh this time.
A summer breeze played with his fringe, bringing
memories of last night's dream to the forefront of Harry's mind. Fuck, who ya
kidding? He's on your mind and cock, Potter. Scolding himself didn't help,
in fact, it made the issue worse. Frustration mounted in his mind while arousal
filled his trousers. Muttering, ""Fuck off,"" he kicked the ground angrily.
"Let's ride it . . ."
Closing his eyes tightly, he thought about Aunt
Petunia again. This time it didn't work because when she turned to face him,
instead of shock and embarrassment, Draco materialized before him in Aunt
Petunia's place. To intensify the situation, a drawling voice penetrated his
reluctance, "Can't you feel it? It's always . . ." Harry bent and
picked a rock up, flinging it angrily at the courtyard wall. Standing, he made
his way back to the Great Hall in preparation of Dumbledore's funeral.
Standing at the water's edge after the
funeral, Harry decided that he would try an experiment. If his dream played
out, he would change it. Glancing at Dumbledore's white marble monument, he
shook his head sadly. Allowing his eyes to travel over the landscape before
him, he sighed and finally lowered his gaze to the water at his feet.
This is it, Potter, he thought. To the soft summer breeze, he said, "Damn
prat."
"Aw," a voice behind
him drawled,
"what sentimental emotions you have, Potter."
Biting the inside of his cheek, Harry braced
himself, making sure he reflected anger in his expression. As to his cock, he
thought, Not yet. Gathering his Gryffindor courage, he turned around.
Harry's heart skipped at the
vision Malfoy presented standing before him with Nimbus 2001 in hand. Blissful
agony screamed at his mind from his trousers. "What do you want, Malfoy?"
Harry tried to make the
inflection
of his voice express anger and disgust. He failed.
Draco arched his blond brow.
"Did you miss me? I saw the other broom that night, you know," Draco drawled.
Stepping closer to Harry, he asked, "Why did you remain silent? Scared, Potter?"
Draco's cool breath wafted over
him, sensual and teasing in its assuredness.
Change it, the voice inside Harry's head yelled. Change it now.
Bristling with unexpressed
rage and desire, Harry pushed Draco away from him roughly. "You wish," he
sneered. "I already know, Malfoy. We've been here before. Just say what you
really came here to say. Do it - - or sod off!"
Draco glared angrily, and then stepped into Harry's
space, stopping short of physical contact. "You don't get it, do you?"
Snarling, Harry closed the gap between them,
leaving only a breath between their lips. "You're wrong! Just say it!"
Draco shook his head.
In anger, Harry thrust Draco away from him.
Draco responded by dropping his broomstick and
lunging at Harry. They hit the ground hard, rolling in fierce competition of who
would come out on top. Swearing filled the air and echoed across the lake.
Harry's voice cut the air, "Fuck you, Draco!
You're the one who doesn't get it!"
"Fucking Golden Boy . . ."
"WHY??" Harry came out on top, bracing Draco's
hands on either side of his blonde nimbus. Panting from exertion, Harry stared
down into Draco's silver eyes. They were a stormy cloud of emotion. Harry saw
everything he recognized from his dream. Shaking his head angrily, he asked,
"Why are you here, Draco?"
Draco was shaking his head, eyes locked with
Harry's.
"Draco . . ." Harry's voice pleaded.
"Can't you feel it, Harry?"
Harry closed his eyes, hiding the emotions that he
experienced even with the foreknowledge that this would happen. Despite the
voice in his dream, he was speechless.
"Harry . . . kiss me."
Slowly, Harry opened his eyes. Studying Draco
beneath him, he loosened his hands, petting with feather light touches down
Draco's arms. "Draco," he whispered, allowing the sound to stroke his being,
cherishing the feel of it as it rolled off of his tongue. Raising his fingers to
the silk that graced Draco's head, he sighed when their tickle between his
fingers felt heavenly. Pulling his eyes from Draco's, he sent the tip of his
tongue out to moisten his lower lip. With sheer determination of slowness, Harry
lowered his lips to Draco's.
Moist softness . . .
sensuous
bliss. . . .
Harry was only vaguely aware of Draco's lithe
fingers setting him on fire. With heated desire, he asked for entrance. When
granted, Harry lowered himself down to merge with Draco.
Cocks blocked by cloth, danced in eagerness. Wet
tongues, one hot the other cool, flicked and teased as they gained acquaintance
with one another. Sucking, nibbling and nuzzling, brought new tastes forth for
carnal enjoyment. Waves of pleasure journeyed through them; treasure discovered.
Draco moaned, fingers seeking the feel of Harry's
skin. Finding it, their passions soared.
Thrusting his hips down hard against Draco, Harry
sent his tongue deeper within his cavern of pleasure.
When air became necessary, Harry pulled away with
a sigh of longing. Breathing heavily, he looked into Draco's eyes.
"Harry . . ."
"You don't know what you've done." Harry's voice
rasped with sadness as he entwined his fingers in Draco's hair once more.
Draco shook his head. "I had to. Take me with
you, Harry."
Harry inhaled sharply. Holding Draco's gaze, he
asked, "What do you mean?"
Draco swallowed, shaking his head. "There's no
place I can go. I want to go with you. It was all for naught."
Harry watched as Draco closed his eyes to hide
moisture that had sprung up there. "Draco . . ."
Anger poured forth from Draco as he pushed Harry
roughly off him and stood. "Do I have to beg?" he roared, his eyes flashing
icy pain.
Stunned, Harry stood up shaking his head. "No,
you don't. I just don't know how we're going to do this."
Draco leaned over and picked up his Nimbus 2001.
Harry quirked a brow at him, wondering what Draco
had planned.
Shrugging, Draco pulled his wand out of his
sleeve and shrunk his broomstick to pocket size. Turning his gaze back to Harry,
he put the miniature broomstick in his pocket, and then tucked his wand away safely.
"Transfigure me."
Harry sputtered, "Draco, that's crazy."
Draco smirked, tilting his head to the side
thoughtfully. "Humm," he drawled, "a nice snake will do. Don't you think so,
Harry?"
Harry bit his lip, studying Draco standing in
front of him.
Draco moved closer, reaching his hand to Harry's
cheek. Caressing him softly, Draco leaned in for a kiss. "I trust you completely,"
he whispered against Harry's hungry lips. Stepping back, he waited with both of
his blond brows arched in expectation.
Finally agreeing, Harry flicked his wrist,
releasing his wand from its holster, pointed it, and said, ""Serpensortia.""
Draco hissed and stuck out his tongue. ""Was that
supposed to be funny?""
""Yep,"" Harry answered as he bent to pick Draco
up.
AN: Harry's brief visit to the courtyard is
off canon. I wanted to insert some annoyed angst for him.
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