The Trouble With Harry

The Trouble with Harry

Chapter 10: Love Bites Like a Bitch…Hard

"Mmm…Harry."

Light fairy touches trailed up his sides as Draco groaned into Harry’s hair, shivering pleasantly at the feeling of the other boy’s hands upon him. Harry shifted on the bed, letting Draco fall back against the sheets as he himself hovered over the Slytherin like some sort of apparition, the ghostly image complete as dim moonlight from the open window fed his pale features, bringing a bluish cast to his soft porcelain skin. His black hair glistened with the luster of sweat that covered his entire body as the messy locks stirred in a slight breeze. Draco looked up at him with wide moony eyes.

"I’m so glad you changed your mind."

Harry quirked his head, letting a small smile creep onto his face. He surveyed the boy lying before him, his greedy green eyes taking in every curve, every ridge of that smooth plane of skin and muscle. He brought his eyes up to meet Draco’s, bleary and glittering with lust. Draco tilted his head coyly letting a curtain of long blond locks fall halfway over his left eye as he smiled sweetly up at the Gryffindor. It was very becoming.

"How could I not, when presented with such a beautiful, heavenly creature such as yourself."

Draco quivered with pleasure at the words and Harry licked his lips slowly and purposefully, eliciting yet another shiver from Draco as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back. Harry didn’t hesitate as he swept down on the exposed length of the boy’s neck and scraped his teeth across the thin skin before running his soft lips soothingly across the pure paleness, sucking and biting and kissing a trail up to Draco’s jaw. Draco groaned rapturously as he arched up against Harry and buried his fingers in the scarlet satin sheets of Harry’s bed. Harry leaned back a bit to enjoy the view, causing Draco to open his grey eyes as the soft touches of Harry’s lips left him.

He looked up inquisitively at the raven-haired beauty who was straddling him so nicely. "What?"

"You’re so beautiful."

Draco blushed slightly but grinned his approval. "Aren’t you glad you chose me instead of that stupid Weasley?"

"Of course. I could never love him. He’s not my type at all and I could never get over all those freckles. Besides, he’s just jealous and has nothing to offer me. I could never go out with Ron. I could only ever be friends with him. He’s nearly my brother! You’ll always be the one for me Malfoy."

"I feel the exact same way Harry. We’ll always be together."

Harry nodded and as if to give testament to the fact, brought his lips down upon Draco’s as he drew them into a long, deep kiss. Draco parted his lips and let his tongue trail along Harry’s bottom lip. Harry reacted in kind and they wrapped their arms around each other drawing each other closer, pressing into each other, the lathered skin of their bodies burning in the strangling embrace.

Draco leaned back slightly and stroked his long fingers up and down Harry’s sides and across the flat plane of Harry’s bare chest, giving care to play his spindly digits over every rib, every taught muscle, every soft plane of skin. He let his other hand trail along Harry’s back up to his neck and bury itself in Harry’s messy hair, the pale of his fingers contrasting against the midnight of the soft strands.

They continued to kiss softly yet fervently, allowing their lips to move at will, biting and sucking imploringly, never wishing to part but for a breath to bring their lips together once more with renewed vigor. Draco moved his hand down further along Harry’s body making him gasp against Draco’s lips as the Slytherin trailed over the flesh of Harry’s lean stomach, moving lower…Draco pulled back from the kiss to look at Harry’s euphoric features as the boy threw his head back, his breath coming in gasps.

"Harry, I love you."

"Oh god Malfoy…I—I love you toooohhhh…" Harry groaned and trembled as Draco smirked and moved his hand down Harry’s stomach, lower and lower, finally wrapping his long elegant fingers around Harry’s…

"Aaahhh!" Ron shot up in his bed, biting his lip as his eyelids flew open. Sweat beaded down his forehead and drenched his bright orange pajamas making them stick to his burning skin. He threw open the curtains around his bed and stared, cerulean irises glinting with panic through the darkness, to the bed next to his. The curtains of that particular bed were still drawn partially shut as they always were in the middle of the night, how Harry liked it. Ron could see the boy stir momentarily underneath the covers and then everything was still and silent again. He let out a breath of relief. It was only a dream. Of course it was a dream.

"Harry doesn’t even own scarlet satin sheets," he mumbled to himself as the angry flush faded from his face and the rest of his body, and the traitorous arousal that the dream had elicited drained from his being, leaving him cold and uncomfortable, with a bad coppery taste in his mouth.

He’d been having lots of dreams lately…skin on skin…always erotic, always arousing. Kissing Harry the one time seemed to have fueled his desires even more, and even after what seemed an eternal two weeks, the dreams persisted. The frightening thing was sometimes he’d be with Harry and then sometimes he would be watching Harry with him. He’d wake up sweating terribly, the images still vivid in his brain, the touching and licking and…shivers…it was fucking scary. No matter how much it turned him on. And that was scary too.

He felt so out of control at those moments, like he didn’t know what he wanted, like he’d been overtaken by the incoherent passion, the ungodly lust those two shared. The kind of thing he wanted with Harry, but here was his own body betraying him, practically screaming that he didn’t have a chance. Harry wouldn’t even be with him in his own dreams, how would he ever in real life?

The dreams made one thing clear to him though; Harry could NOT end up with Malfoy. That was too frightening, and Ron would know. He’d seen it. All he really wanted now was Harry to NOT end up with Malfoy. Actually that was a lie. All he really wanted still was for Harry to love him. But if not him then defiantly not Malfoy. It was selfish probably, but Harry deserved so much better really. He wouldn’t be a good friend if he didn’t keep Malfoy as far away from Harry as possible.

Surprisingly though, Ron didn’t have to act as bodyguard as Draco avoided Harry all on his own, only throwing long glances his way on occasion. The scowling had subsided, Ron noted. Only long glances now. And Harry was avoiding Malfoy as well, which was nice and made Ron’s job easier. But that didn’t stop the dreams from coming.

He shut the bed curtains and drew the comforter up around himself, taking a deep breath and sucking on his bit lip as he sank back against the headboard, half way lying down, halfway sitting cushioned on the pillow. A perfect position in which to think. Because he sure as hell wasn’t about to go back to sleep any time soon.

***

As Ron and Draco grew more withdrawn and unhappy with each day that passed, Neville appeared to be undergoing a completely different transformation. He was brighter and more cheerful now. In a mere two weeks his shallow cheeks had started to fill out once again and the circles under his eyes lightened. He couldn’t starve himself when there was someone was watching him. And someone was always watching. He had been spending a lot of time with Harry and Hermione, always in the company of one or the other. He felt a vague sense of guilt for taking Ron’s place, as appeared to be the case since the redhead had distanced himself from the set (much to the bewilderment of everyone else), but he also felt a sense of satisfaction, and happiness.

He’d never had such close friends before, having always been on the fringe of every group. But Harry and Hermione, they chatted with him as if it had been like this all along. And he could tell them things. Because they knew how he felt and would understand. And it was flattering when they’d reciprocate and tell him things, things that no one else knew, confide in him. He felt special for once. And cared for.

Hermione would never let him leave the table without completing his dinner, and Harry always seemed to know when he’d had a bad night full of waking nightmares. They were both there to comfort him and keep him from slipping back to the place where he had been before, where he was alone and had ceased caring. They were almost like parents to him in a way; they seemed to worry about him so much. But even more, they were friends like he’d never had. The kind of friends that became your family. And how he had longed for that kind of family. Now that he had it he knew he would never let it go. He would cherish it and always be there for his friends. Trust and be trusted, love and be loved. He wouldn’t let them down. And he knew now that he was getting better.

***

"I wish my parents were here. I bet they would know what to do," sighed Harry.

Hermione, Neville and he had been sitting in the common room all day long, working on their transfiguration homework and chatting intermittently. It wasn’t the best way to spend a Saturday, but it wasn’t bad either, there seemed to be more talk than work going on. The topic of the conversation had turned inexplicably from human/small mammal transfiguration to Harry’s boy problems, mainly at Hermione’s instigation before she’d jumped up and ran off yelling about being late to her Arithmancy study group.

Harry repeated himself wistfully, "I wish they were here. They would know what to do."

The words hung a moment between the two boys as Harry stared at his quill. He never said things like that to anyone. I wish my parents were here. It was like admitting a weakness, admitting that this life he had would never be enough. There would always be that space. He didn’t say those sorts of things around Ron or Hermione, or even Dumbledore. It felt too much like whinging. And he loved his friends and didn’t want to imply that he wasn’t grateful for them every single day that he lived. He tried to accept what he had, but sometimes it just wasn’t enough and he would end up feeling sad and depressed. But somehow it didn’t hurt so much to say it to Neville.

Harry looked up to find Neville smiling at him good-naturedly. "Even if they were here, how many teenagers do you know who would talk to their parents about their sex life Harry?"

Harry chuckled. "I see your point. But still…"

"At least you don’t have to deal with the whole coming out issue," pointed out Neville with a smile.

"True," Harry conceded with a laugh. He sobered quickly though as a thought occurred to him. "Neville do you…do you think they would have been disappointed?"

Neville frowned and thought for a moment for the right words. "No, I don’t think they would have been. They were good, caring people and they loved you. You defeated Voldemort for godssake. Even if they were uncomfortable with it, how could they ever hold it against you? And they wouldn’t either. My grandmother knew them…she’s told me a few things and they’ve all been good. By what I gather they were open minded and caring. I don’t see how they could have ever been disappointed in you Harry. They would be happy to know that you were happy. You are happy aren’t you?"

"Yeah, but…well…I don’t know," he sighed in frustration.

"Listen Harry, you don’t give yourself enough credit. If they were here they would have been so proud. They probably are proud from where they’re watching over you. Because they are you know. I know it. You’re such a good person Harry. People don’t say you remind them of your parents for no reason. If anyone has to worry about their parents not being proud of them well that would be me."

Harry scoffed, "Don’t say that Neville. Your parent would have no reason not to be proud."

Neville frowned, a dour air overcoming him. "Harry I’m a failure. I’m barely a wizard. I can’t do anything right."

"That was a long time ago Neville. So you had a rough couple of years. Who could blame you? With people like Snape and Malfoy after you all the time, how could you be expected to keep your wits about you. But you’ve changed Neville you’ve come into your own…look at your Herbology grade. I know it’s not the same as parents saying it, but well…I’m proud of you."

Neville’s cheeks went pink as he tried to speak without his voice shaking. "I miss them so much Harry. But sometimes I’m glad they’re not here to see what a poor wizard I am. I’m good at one subject, big deal. I suck at everything else."

"Don’t you say that Neville Longbottom! They would have been proud. I know it. You underestimate yourself. I’m your friend and I know you so I can say this without hesitation. I see it all the time Neville, you are a great wizard and more important a great person. Remember when I told you in first year that you were worth twelve of Malfoy? I wasn’t just saying that you know. Hm…though the Malfoy situation has changed a bit hasn’t it. Nevertheless you are a great wizard Neville. And well, no one is good at everything."

Neville looked up and gave him a small smile. "Except for you."

Harry blushed slightly. "That’s not true."

Neville shrugged. "Whatever you say Harry."

Harry ignored him and continued. "Well at least you’re passing all your classes. I mean Seamus is failing transfiguration and Ron was pulling 60% in divination last time he was talking to me…" Harry trailed off as his breath hitched momentarily.

"You miss him don’t you?" asked Neville.

"We were like brothers. It’s only been two weeks but it feels like years."

Neville sighed sadly and put an encouraging hand on the other boy’s shoulder. "Talk to him Harry."

"I will, I will…I just don’t know what to say exactly. I don’t want to hurt him again." Harry sniffed as he stared down at his half finished Transfiguration scroll.

"Ron’s a big boy. He’ll understand, eventually. It depresses me to see you so down."

Harry smirked good-naturedly. "Well we can’t have that, now can we? How about we both stop being so down on ourselves huh?"

Neville nodded. "What we need is Hermione to get in here and distract us."

"Yeah she’ll make us start looking up all the different ways to brew a sleeping potion or discuss the breeding habits of mooncalves in Ireland during a lunar eclipse," Harry said with a small smile, though not much enthusiasm.

As if on cue, Hermione burst through the portrait hole and made her way quickly over to them.

"Well, I leave you two alone for one measly hour and you’re ready to go jump out the tower window." She raised her eyebrows inquisitively at the dour looking pair, her hands on her hips.

Harry and Neville chuckled. "‘S alright Hermione. Only, this homework is just sooo depressing," said Harry languidly.

"Harry Potter, homework is not depressing. You just have to know how to do it correctly." Hermione sniffed and gave him a condescending, though amicable, smirk.

"But that’s just the problem Hermione. We don’t know how to do it correctly!" offered Neville with a laugh.

"Well I can solve that problem." She sat down between them and promptly began to explain the work while they rolled their eyes and shared a grin behind her back. Harry twirled his finger near his temple and mouthed, "Crazy," causing Neville to giggle and Hermione to give him an odd look. He smiled sweetly at her as she went back to her oratory on inanimate object transfiguration.

"You make me feel better Harry," mouthed Neville as Hermione wrote up a three parchment practice quiz for them complete with essay questions.

Harry chuckled. "Yeah, you too."

***

Harry looked up from his food across the hall to the Slytherin table. Draco was looking at him. He shifted nervously in his chair and turned his gaze to Ron across the table. The redhead had obviously been staring as well. Maybe he was innocently knifing his food now, but Harry saw the jerk of his head as he’d obviously averted his gaze.

The dark haired Gryffindor had been keeping a close watch on the two boys, knowing what he knew, always hoping that maybe their feelings for him might dissipate with time. But nothing changed. They kept staring at him.

Things had just continued for a week like that…in a sort of limbo in which problems are let to themselves, waiting to be solved, festering; a problem still there but not active…still the same, not growing worse or better, but lying invisible and dormant. Nothing happened and nothing changed and they left the situation, neglected because no one felt like dealing with it. It was just trouble, and nobody likes dealing with trouble.

Harry looked to Neville who wasn’t looking particularly good. Another problem, but one he could handle. One he knew how to handle. Neville had finished his meal, but sat listlessly staring at his plate. Harry knew what that meant. Neville had bad days. It wasn’t a big deal; he just needed to spend some time unloading his thoughts. Hermione nudged Harry and threw a nod in Neville’s direction, giving Harry a meaningful look. She’d apparently noticed as well. Harry nodded.

"Say Neville, what do you say we go take a walk by the lake?" asked Harry quietly.

Neville shrugged and nodded.

"Great. Come on then. Let’s go," said Hermione abandoning her seat.

"Hey, where are you guys going?"

The three looked up in surprise to find Ron watching them.

"Outside," said Harry flatly. It had been almost a week since Ron had last spoken to him. It felt odd and strangely uncomfortable.

Ron hesitated for a moment. Why he’d asked the question he didn’t know. Harry and Hermione were always leaving with Neville in the middle of dinner. It had become routine in the past two weeks. They never asked him to come along. He felt upset about it but reminded himself that it was partly his own doing; he didn’t have the right to be upset. But he was till curious. And he missed his friends.

"Er…Can I come with you?"

Harry looked at Neville and Hermione frowned slightly. "Well, I don’t know…"

Ron scowled. "Nevermind. I have to finish my potions essay."

He knew when he wasn’t wanted.

"Sorry Ron," whispered Hermione as the three turned and left.

Ron scowled at his plate. He had saved Hermione the trouble of turning him down. He understood. Fine, so it was private. He could respect that. Forget that he had been their friend for six and some years, that he shared all their secrets and he’d told them everything. He paused a moment as he watched the trio leave the hall, his eyes falling on Harry. Well maybe I haven’t told them *everything*.