Harry was flung up and down in the air as Voldemort shouted “Crucio!” with delight. There was no pain, no terrible crushing pain, Voldemort’s spells were useless.
The pale, snake-faced Lord ordered Hagrid to carry Harry’s body; Harry felt Hagrid’s sobs making his whole frame shudder. Voldemort stepped lightly over the twigs and leaves on the forest floor, over to where Harry lay as if dead. He brushed the messy fringe from Harry’s face, ran an idle finger down the heartbreaking jawline; softly pressed the full, pink lips that had spoken so harshly to him a moment ago. So young.
Showing posts with label harry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label harry. Show all posts
July 16, 2010
July 02, 2008
Harry/Voldemort Drabble #1
“Voldemort may know of the connection between your minds, Harry.” Dumbledore had warned, but still he took no heed. If He Who Must Not Be Named knew, this was worth it.
Harry lay back in his four poster bed, sweat dripping down his naked, writhing body. His palms gripped the sheets feverishly as the feeling rose again, spread all through his body and intensified at his very core, before erupting out of him and all over his chest and stomach.
Voldemort, hidden away in the Malfoy’s house, shuddered in his chair - a soft smile playing on his wet lips.
Harry lay back in his four poster bed, sweat dripping down his naked, writhing body. His palms gripped the sheets feverishly as the feeling rose again, spread all through his body and intensified at his very core, before erupting out of him and all over his chest and stomach.
Voldemort, hidden away in the Malfoy’s house, shuddered in his chair - a soft smile playing on his wet lips.
February 25, 2008
Harry/Ron Drabble #2
Harry walked past the wall for the third time, thinking hard. His efforts were rewarded when an ornate door materialised in the stone wall; he turned the heavy handle and went inside, checking behind him that the corridor was empty. When he turned away from the door the splendour of the room took his breath away. There was a large four-poster bed in the middle, with deep purple sheets. Harry imagined Ron's pale leg sticking out from under them, and how much he would like to rip those sheets off, and see Ron lying there in nothing but a smile.
February 19, 2008
Harry/Ron Drabble #1
In the darkness of Hagrid’s hut, Ron pulled open Harry’s robes.
“Come on, Harry, you said you’d let me.”
“I dunno, what if it goes wrong?”
“It won’t, I’ve been practising.” There was a noise outside and they froze.
“What if someone comes in?” asked Harry.
“They all know Hagrid’s away, that’s why Grubbly-Plank is taking Care of Magical Creatures. No-one will come in, stop worrying.”
“Okay, but not too much, incase it won’t go back to normal.”
“You wish.” laughed Ron.
“Okay, let’s do it.” said Harry, and opened his robes.
“Engorgio!” said Ron, waving his wand at Harry.
“Come on, Harry, you said you’d let me.”
“I dunno, what if it goes wrong?”
“It won’t, I’ve been practising.” There was a noise outside and they froze.
“What if someone comes in?” asked Harry.
“They all know Hagrid’s away, that’s why Grubbly-Plank is taking Care of Magical Creatures. No-one will come in, stop worrying.”
“Okay, but not too much, incase it won’t go back to normal.”
“You wish.” laughed Ron.
“Okay, let’s do it.” said Harry, and opened his robes.
“Engorgio!” said Ron, waving his wand at Harry.
January 29, 2008
Dirty Harry Drabble #3
It was dusk, the sun slid gently behind the trees of the Forbidden Forest. Harry, under his cloak, stepped behind a giant fir and waited for Draco Malfoy. A few minutes later, Draco peered into the growing gloom.
“Are you in here, Potter?” he asked shakily, he hated coming into the forest. Harry whipped his cloak off, and stood naked before Malfoy, who shrieked with delight and stripped his clothes off too.
Darkness saw Draco kneeling behind Harry, one hand gripping his hair, the other rubbing up and down his spine.
“Harry, you’re filthy.”
“I know.”
“I meant the mud.”
“Are you in here, Potter?” he asked shakily, he hated coming into the forest. Harry whipped his cloak off, and stood naked before Malfoy, who shrieked with delight and stripped his clothes off too.
Darkness saw Draco kneeling behind Harry, one hand gripping his hair, the other rubbing up and down his spine.
“Harry, you’re filthy.”
“I know.”
“I meant the mud.”
August 12, 2007
Daydream Drabble #1
“Mr Weasley!” shouted McGonagall sharply. Ron lifted his head up from where he’d been resting on the desk, “And kindly wipe that silly grin from your face.” The classroom sniggered as Ron hastily removed the goofy smile that was plastered all over his sleepy face. A memory from last night drifted into his imagination; Harry’s messy fringe tickling his face as they kissed, and he started to smile again. Professor McGonagall squinted down her nose at Ron and tutted – but Ron wasn’t sitting there, he was sitting naked and cross-legged on Harry’s bed, as Harry kissed slowly down his spine.
December 13, 2006
Harry/Draco Drabble #2
Harry pulled Draco close, his hand pressing that skinny little neck against him. His other hand slid softly down Draco’s smooth back, his fingers leisurely stroking the white skin of his bum. Draco let out a slow moan as Harry reached between his cheeks, pressed his finger on Draco’s warmest spot; their kiss deepened as they shifted on the blanket. Now it was Harry’s turn to gasp as Draco held him in his fierce grip, slowly teasing his hand up and down. He bit the blonde boy’s lip.
“I hate you, Malfoy.” Said Harry.
“I hate you too.” Answered Draco.
“I hate you, Malfoy.” Said Harry.
“I hate you too.” Answered Draco.
November 30, 2006
Harry/Draco Drabble #1
It was late, so late that it was actually early, and the night was dark. In a corridor on the fifth floor the two boys stood side by side, silently looking around to check if the coast was clear. When they were sure it was, the dark-haired boy ducked behind a tapestry and the blonde-haired boy followed. Draco was already stripped to the waist; he ripped open Harry’s pyjama shirt and pressed their naked chests together, as he kissed him full on the mouth. Malfoy smiled inwardly to feel Harry against his leg. It would, hopefully, be a long night.
November 28, 2006
Dirty Harry Drabble #2
Harry stood trembling under his invisibility cloak; he was in the prefect’s bathroom on the fifth floor watching Cedric Diggory having a soak in the bath. As Cedric floated idly on his back amid the bubbles, Harry leaned eagerly over watching him run a hand up and down his lean body. Harry’s own hand was inside his dressing gown, gently clenching and unclenching. Cedric hoisted himself up out of the bath and lay on his side, his hand moving faster and faster. Harry couldn’t hold it back, and let out a strangled sob as he made his fingers all sticky.
March 15, 2006
Dirty Harry Drabble #1
Harry locked the door to the prefect’s bathroom after him, and slipped off his invisibility cloak and dressing gown. He turned the taps on at random and quickly jumped in, it had been very cold in the corridors. Harry soon found the tap he was looking for, it had a large emerald set into it – he turned it on quickly and positioned himself in front of the deep green jet that shot out it. The sparkly crystalline water spouted onto his body, making him gasp and grunt. Soon he was spent, and lay back, floating contentedly on the coloured water.
February 11, 2006
Cornered
“Gotcha!” shouted Harry, grabbing Draco by the front of his robes.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Potter?” Malfoy shouted back at him, “Get off me!”
“No chance,” said Harry, tightening his grip on Malfoy and dragging him through the nearest door, “you’re going to tell me what you’ve been getting up to.” He shut the door of the empty classroom behind them and threw Malfoy into the nearest chair, which he immediately made to get up from, until he saw that Harry’s wand was pointing directly at his forehead.
Draco had beads of sweat on his upper lip, betraying the calm and disdainful expression he wore on his pale face. He crossed one leg over the other and clasped his hands in his lap,
“Where have you been disappearing to?” demanded Harry, pleased to see that Malfoy was now trembling visibly. He slumped in his seat, hands at his sides,
“I’ve got nothing to tell you,” he said dejectedly, “it doesn’t matter now anyway.” This sudden change in Draco’s attitude threw Harry totally, but keeping his guard up he raised his wand again and asked,
“What doesn’t matter anymore? Why doesn’t it matter any more?” he paused, “I heard you talking to Borgin, I know who your new master is.” If Harry was surprised at Malfoy’s sudden despondency, the miserable grimace now spreading over his face spoke volumes,
“Fuck off, Harry.” he said quietly, crossing his arms. Harry’s wand hand wavered slightly, then immediately he realised he was feeling sorry for Malfoy – but also intrigued, to his knowledge Malfoy had only ever used his first name only once before. “I hate you so much, Potter. You know that, don’t you?”
“It’s mutual, Malfoy.” Spat Harry bitterly. To his utter amazement, Malfoy began to cry. He turned away from Harry and tried to hide his sobs, by covering his face with his hands. Harry was at a loss as to what to do, his immediate reaction was to console the crying boy, but it was Malfoy. Draco Malfoy crying in his presence.
Harry put his hand on Draco’s shoulder and asked, grudgingly,
“Are you okay?” Malfoy looked up at him, stricken, tears flowing down his face,
“Do I fucking look okay?” he put his hand on Harry’s, then said more quietly, “Don’t yell at me.”
Harry’s mind was in a whirl – had Malfoy gone completely insane, or maybe he was under the Imperius curse, either option was more than likely, and Malfoy hadn’t removed his hand from Harry’s yet.
He stood up, tightening his grip on Harry’s fingers,
“You don’t know how hard it is, Harry,” the name uncomfortable on Malfoy’s tongue, “I said I didn’t want to do it. I said I couldn’t.” before he had a chance to react, Malfoy put his other hand on the back of Harry’s neck, pulled him in close and pressed his lips to Harry’s mouth. Harry pulled away looking horrified, he opened his mouth to speak but Malfoy stopped him,
“Shut up, okay? Just shut up, Potter. Pretend I’m Ron Weasley or something.” he said thickly, and pushed Harry down on to a chair. Harry was dumbfounded, and simply watched agape as Malfoy climbed on to him, one leg either side. Harry felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up as Malfoy, his enemy, his nemesis, ran his fingers up into the wild shock of dark hair. The boys sat looking at each other; Malfoy, still tearful, idly teasing the ends of Harry’s hair – Harry still shocked and wishing he wasn’t enjoying this sensation. They kissed again, slower this time, gently exploring with lips and tongue. Harry started to get hard, and was somewhat pleased (and thoroughly appalled) to feel Malfoy getting hard as well. Malfoy, whose tears had dried by now, slowly moved up and down in Harry’s lap, pressing their hardness together.
Harry broke off the kiss,
“Draco,” Malfoy’s name being equally uncomfortable on his tongue, “we can’t do this. I can’t do this.” Sudden hatred sprang to Malfoy’s eyes, and he got up off Harry immediately.
“Fuck you then, Potter,” he retorted, raising his voice, “you poof.” He grabbed his schoolbag and ran from the classroom, new tears in his eyes.
Harry sat, perplexed, absent-mindedly feeling the tent at the front of his grey trousers. He realised what he was doing and stood up with a start. He still didn’t know what Malfoy was doing in the Room of Requirement on the seventh floor. Thinking of what he had just done, Harry wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and hurried off to find Ron and Hermione – they would hear an abridged version of what had just happened.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Potter?” Malfoy shouted back at him, “Get off me!”
“No chance,” said Harry, tightening his grip on Malfoy and dragging him through the nearest door, “you’re going to tell me what you’ve been getting up to.” He shut the door of the empty classroom behind them and threw Malfoy into the nearest chair, which he immediately made to get up from, until he saw that Harry’s wand was pointing directly at his forehead.
Draco had beads of sweat on his upper lip, betraying the calm and disdainful expression he wore on his pale face. He crossed one leg over the other and clasped his hands in his lap,
“Where have you been disappearing to?” demanded Harry, pleased to see that Malfoy was now trembling visibly. He slumped in his seat, hands at his sides,
“I’ve got nothing to tell you,” he said dejectedly, “it doesn’t matter now anyway.” This sudden change in Draco’s attitude threw Harry totally, but keeping his guard up he raised his wand again and asked,
“What doesn’t matter anymore? Why doesn’t it matter any more?” he paused, “I heard you talking to Borgin, I know who your new master is.” If Harry was surprised at Malfoy’s sudden despondency, the miserable grimace now spreading over his face spoke volumes,
“Fuck off, Harry.” he said quietly, crossing his arms. Harry’s wand hand wavered slightly, then immediately he realised he was feeling sorry for Malfoy – but also intrigued, to his knowledge Malfoy had only ever used his first name only once before. “I hate you so much, Potter. You know that, don’t you?”
“It’s mutual, Malfoy.” Spat Harry bitterly. To his utter amazement, Malfoy began to cry. He turned away from Harry and tried to hide his sobs, by covering his face with his hands. Harry was at a loss as to what to do, his immediate reaction was to console the crying boy, but it was Malfoy. Draco Malfoy crying in his presence.
Harry put his hand on Draco’s shoulder and asked, grudgingly,
“Are you okay?” Malfoy looked up at him, stricken, tears flowing down his face,
“Do I fucking look okay?” he put his hand on Harry’s, then said more quietly, “Don’t yell at me.”
Harry’s mind was in a whirl – had Malfoy gone completely insane, or maybe he was under the Imperius curse, either option was more than likely, and Malfoy hadn’t removed his hand from Harry’s yet.
He stood up, tightening his grip on Harry’s fingers,
“You don’t know how hard it is, Harry,” the name uncomfortable on Malfoy’s tongue, “I said I didn’t want to do it. I said I couldn’t.” before he had a chance to react, Malfoy put his other hand on the back of Harry’s neck, pulled him in close and pressed his lips to Harry’s mouth. Harry pulled away looking horrified, he opened his mouth to speak but Malfoy stopped him,
“Shut up, okay? Just shut up, Potter. Pretend I’m Ron Weasley or something.” he said thickly, and pushed Harry down on to a chair. Harry was dumbfounded, and simply watched agape as Malfoy climbed on to him, one leg either side. Harry felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up as Malfoy, his enemy, his nemesis, ran his fingers up into the wild shock of dark hair. The boys sat looking at each other; Malfoy, still tearful, idly teasing the ends of Harry’s hair – Harry still shocked and wishing he wasn’t enjoying this sensation. They kissed again, slower this time, gently exploring with lips and tongue. Harry started to get hard, and was somewhat pleased (and thoroughly appalled) to feel Malfoy getting hard as well. Malfoy, whose tears had dried by now, slowly moved up and down in Harry’s lap, pressing their hardness together.
Harry broke off the kiss,
“Draco,” Malfoy’s name being equally uncomfortable on his tongue, “we can’t do this. I can’t do this.” Sudden hatred sprang to Malfoy’s eyes, and he got up off Harry immediately.
“Fuck you then, Potter,” he retorted, raising his voice, “you poof.” He grabbed his schoolbag and ran from the classroom, new tears in his eyes.
Harry sat, perplexed, absent-mindedly feeling the tent at the front of his grey trousers. He realised what he was doing and stood up with a start. He still didn’t know what Malfoy was doing in the Room of Requirement on the seventh floor. Thinking of what he had just done, Harry wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and hurried off to find Ron and Hermione – they would hear an abridged version of what had just happened.
February 07, 2006
After Practice
After a particularly cold and muddy practice, the Gryffindor team were in the changing room putting on clean clothes. Oliver hadn’t let Harry take a shower yet, he was busy drawing confusing lines on a small blackboard, and explaining how he wanted Harry to dummy the other Seeker.
“See you later Harry”, said Fred unenthusiastically. Harry grimaced at him, and the twins laughed.
“Okay Harry, I think you’ve got it now,” said Wood, “off you go to the shower.” Harry heaved a sigh of relief, they were the only ones left in the changing room and he wanted to go back to the common room to see Ron and Hermione, he hadn’t seen them all day, they both said it was too cold to go and watch him practice. He muttered under his breath as he took off his jumper and shrugged his boots off, but was soon imagining sitting at the fire warming up.
Harry turned just as Oliver was taking his trousers off, but immediately looked away. Oliver, with his back to Harry, was oblivious to him looking, and simply carried on taking his clothes off. His t-shirt came next, Harry could not help but watch as Oliver’s back muscles slowly stretched as the t-shirt came over his head. Oliver used the t-shirt to wipe under his arms, then across his forehead. He turned then, and Harry suddenly became very interested in removing a towel from his bag,
“A good practice today, Harry, eh?” asked Wood, now rolling the t-shirt up into a ball. Harry realised he would have to turn around to speak to him, but could see in his peripheral vision that Oliver was wearing nothing but his boxers.
“Yeah, great.” Said Harry, still fumbling in his bag. Oliver turned away then, whistling to himself. Harry relaxed, and carried on unbuttoning his trousers.
“Here you go, Harry,” said Wood, “you dropped your glove.” Harry turned round to take the glove, but Oliver was standing there naked holding out the glove to him. Harry could not help but stare, he’d never seen Oliver naked before, and it was an impressive sight. He was very defined and had a line of hair from his belly button going down…
“Take it then!” said Wood, Harry blushed realising he’d just been blatantly staring at Oliver.
“Thanks.” He mumbled, wishing Oliver would hurry up and go into the showers, there was no way Harry could take off his trousers yet.
“See you later Harry”, said Fred unenthusiastically. Harry grimaced at him, and the twins laughed.
“Okay Harry, I think you’ve got it now,” said Wood, “off you go to the shower.” Harry heaved a sigh of relief, they were the only ones left in the changing room and he wanted to go back to the common room to see Ron and Hermione, he hadn’t seen them all day, they both said it was too cold to go and watch him practice. He muttered under his breath as he took off his jumper and shrugged his boots off, but was soon imagining sitting at the fire warming up.
Harry turned just as Oliver was taking his trousers off, but immediately looked away. Oliver, with his back to Harry, was oblivious to him looking, and simply carried on taking his clothes off. His t-shirt came next, Harry could not help but watch as Oliver’s back muscles slowly stretched as the t-shirt came over his head. Oliver used the t-shirt to wipe under his arms, then across his forehead. He turned then, and Harry suddenly became very interested in removing a towel from his bag,
“A good practice today, Harry, eh?” asked Wood, now rolling the t-shirt up into a ball. Harry realised he would have to turn around to speak to him, but could see in his peripheral vision that Oliver was wearing nothing but his boxers.
“Yeah, great.” Said Harry, still fumbling in his bag. Oliver turned away then, whistling to himself. Harry relaxed, and carried on unbuttoning his trousers.
“Here you go, Harry,” said Wood, “you dropped your glove.” Harry turned round to take the glove, but Oliver was standing there naked holding out the glove to him. Harry could not help but stare, he’d never seen Oliver naked before, and it was an impressive sight. He was very defined and had a line of hair from his belly button going down…
“Take it then!” said Wood, Harry blushed realising he’d just been blatantly staring at Oliver.
“Thanks.” He mumbled, wishing Oliver would hurry up and go into the showers, there was no way Harry could take off his trousers yet.
Insomnia
Two a.m. and Harry was awake again. Why couldn’t he sleep? This was the third night that he’d woken up in the early hours and he was getting really fed up of it. He lay there for a while, his mind going through the day’s events, planning Quidditch moves (replaying the best ones), listening to the other boys snoring and breathing. It was usually Ron making the most noise, that boy snored louder than any of them, but he was quiet tonight. Harry briefly contemplated opening the curtains of his four-poster to check that Ron was okay, that he wasn’t suffocating or something, but he didn’t. Ron had probably gone to the bathroom, or was just having a nice dream.
Eventually, he started to feel sleepy again and was just thinking that he had Charms first thing and he had already finished his homework. He smiled and snuggled further down into his bed when he heard a strangled sob coming from Ron’s bed. He was awake again in an instant, Ron was choking! He ripped the curtains open to check whether his friend was all right.
The moon was nearly full, and sent beautiful silvery rays through the window panes, illuminating the room with a lovely glow. The moonbeams shone full on Ron’s bed and through his open curtains, Harry saw all this in the split second before he saw what Ron was really doing.
He let out a gasp and Ron, who had been sitting on the end of his bed, looked up horrified – hastily grabbing the quilt to cover himself and then pulling the curtains shut.
Harry smiled, despite his shock, and got back into bed then. The night was so quiet, he could hear Ron breathing heavily, trying really hard to make it seem like he was asleep. Harry knew that tomorrow morning Ron would make a big show of being so heavily asleep last night, that he remembered nothing.
Harry would play along, he knew, but he didn’t know what to make of the stirring going on in his pyjamas. He listened to Ron’s breath going in and out of his mouth, rushing over those full, pink lips… Harry was aware that he was touching himself and thinking of Ron’s lips. He sat up with a start, making the bed springs creak; he heard Ron’s breathing stop, as if he was listening. Harry lied back down and pulled the quilts over him, it was too late in the night for this, he would think about it tomorrow. Yes, that would be best.
Eventually, he started to feel sleepy again and was just thinking that he had Charms first thing and he had already finished his homework. He smiled and snuggled further down into his bed when he heard a strangled sob coming from Ron’s bed. He was awake again in an instant, Ron was choking! He ripped the curtains open to check whether his friend was all right.
The moon was nearly full, and sent beautiful silvery rays through the window panes, illuminating the room with a lovely glow. The moonbeams shone full on Ron’s bed and through his open curtains, Harry saw all this in the split second before he saw what Ron was really doing.
He let out a gasp and Ron, who had been sitting on the end of his bed, looked up horrified – hastily grabbing the quilt to cover himself and then pulling the curtains shut.
Harry smiled, despite his shock, and got back into bed then. The night was so quiet, he could hear Ron breathing heavily, trying really hard to make it seem like he was asleep. Harry knew that tomorrow morning Ron would make a big show of being so heavily asleep last night, that he remembered nothing.
Harry would play along, he knew, but he didn’t know what to make of the stirring going on in his pyjamas. He listened to Ron’s breath going in and out of his mouth, rushing over those full, pink lips… Harry was aware that he was touching himself and thinking of Ron’s lips. He sat up with a start, making the bed springs creak; he heard Ron’s breathing stop, as if he was listening. Harry lied back down and pulled the quilts over him, it was too late in the night for this, he would think about it tomorrow. Yes, that would be best.
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