Fractions

Chapter Two - Confusion with an Interlude

*

Harry swept out of the locker room, staring at the cloaked form that was darting quickly across the grounds. How they had already managed to reach the stairs that lead into the Entrance Hall perplexed him. He decided not to chase them - he would not be able to catch him, anyway.

He was certain that the person had been male. Their figure was too straight to be female. There had been none of the comfortable curves he knew from Lavender. It had been flat, a bit muscular, and hard as the person had pressed himself up against him for the brief moment of intimacy. Albeit, Harry had not wanted that intimacy, and he now felt somewhat dirty for allowing himself to be kissed for even those brief ten or so seconds. He shook his head and wrapped his cloak and scarf around his neck, looking into the mirror briefly. Harry wondered if he looked guilty.

Shaking his head, he grabbed his Firebolt and tossed his Quidditch uniform into the laundry chute, where it would be transported up to the house elves, and walked out of the locker room. He slung his broom across his shoulder and trudged up towards the large castle, ignoring the snowflakes that pelted his face and nestled in his hair.

*

"Harry, mate, what took you so long?" Ron asked as soon as he stepped through the portrait hole, placing a bottle of butterbeer in his hands and grinning at him. "Party's been underway for about thirty minutes now!"

"I s'pose I fancy showing up fashionably late?" replied Harry, opening the bottle of his favorite drink and took a large drink from it, the warm liquid making his whole body warm. It had been cold and drafty in the castle as he made a solitary journey up to the seventh floor, a sure sign that the snow falling outside brought a blizzard along. But his mind on the kiss the whole way. He wondered why it unsettled him so much.

Probably because you know the person was male, a nasty voice said in his head. And you didn't mind it much at all.

Like hell I did! He angrily shut out the voices in his head, and gave a smile to his best friend. "Have you seen Lavender anywhere, Ron?"

Ron did not answer, but pointed to a corner of the room where Lavender sat with Parvati, the two of them smiling and laughing at something. Her back was to him. All thoughts of the kiss were swept out of his mind as he saw his girlfriend, and he made his way over to the brunette, holding a finger to his lips to inform Parvati to keep silent about his presence. He slid his arms around Lavender's waist and pressed his lips to her neck.

"Hello, love," he murmured in her ear, as Parvati slid silently out of the picture, a smile upon her lips as she made her way over to Neville, Dean, and Seamus.

"What kept you, darling?" asked Lavender, turning her face to his and placing a kiss upon his lips. "We've missed you. Congratulations on your spectacular catch! The look on Malfoy's face was priceless when you pulled out of that dive with the Snitch."

He grinned. "I had some things to do in the locker room, but I'm here now."

*

A few hours later, when the party was still in full swing and everyone was thoroughly hyper with all of the candy and butterbeer running through their system, Ron stood up. It was obvious he had had a bit of firewhisky, at which Hermione was looking very disapproving. He staggered over by the fire, a grin plastered upon his face.

"A toast," he halfway slurred, holding up a bottle of butterbeer, "to all of the Gryffindor team for their spectacular performance against Slytherin today!"

The common room was filled with raised bottles, followed by a cheer. It was as if they had already won the Cup.

Harry and Lavender had camped out in a chair in the corner of the common room; Lavender perched comfortably on his lap and Harry with his arms around her. She had her head on his shoulder. It was the perfect oozing with love moment, which made Seamus and Dean gag inaudibly from across the room, then cackle.

Lavender raised her head from his shoulder and whispered something in his ear. He nodded and she slid off upstairs, with him watching her the whole way. He got up and walked over to where Hermione and Ron were having a heated discussion.

"Ron, what have I told you about firewhisky?" she said angrily, poking him in the chest once.

"'Mione, c'mon, it's not like I drank a whole bottle!" he whined, rubbing where she had poked him.

"Ron, don't give me that! You know how well you can hold firewhisky! I can't believe you still drank it!"

"Hermione, you're sounding like my mother," he snapped, scowling at her.

"I don't care if I sound like Molly. I'm damn well being honest and you bloody well know it!" She brushed her hair from her face and glared up at the much taller boy. However short she was, Hermione knew how to intimidate the redhead, and was doing just that - she had been able to ever since they had begun dating.

"I'm sorry, 'Mione! It was just a bit of firewhisky!"

"Just a bit of firewhisky?!" she screeched, causing half of the common room to look at them. She didn't seem to notice. "Three-fourths of a bottle! A one and a half litre bottle!" Hermione was positively livid now.

"Uh, guys, y'know.. you should probably take this somewhere else, or tone it down a bit. Don't want to set a bad example for all the titchy ones," Harry interrupted, giving a glance towards the first and second years who were staring at Ron and Hermione from across the room. Their eyes were wide.

"Oh," said Hermione, straightening her Head Girl badge and smoothing her hair with her hands as best she could. "Well, then. We'll continue this later, Ronald. Don't let me hear of you drinking anymore."

"I won't," said Ron, who was holding his head. It seemed that the effects of the alcohol were sweeping over him quickly.

"Come on, Ron," said Harry, dragging him to the loo that was off to the side of the common room. Harry was worried with the way Ron's lips had a greenish tinge. "Here, the toilet calls," he said to his best friend. Ron nodded, and as Harry shut the door, he heard Ron moan with sickness and a nasty retching sound following. He hurried off, heading towards Hermione.

"I don't believe he'll be drinking much anymore, 'Mione," he told her, shuddering. "He's a bit sick."

She raised her eyebrows, in a way to say to the sick Ron, 'I told you so'. "Serves him right for not listening to me or Molly." She smiled at Harry. "Congratulations on winning the match for us, Harry. I knew you could do it."

He smiled. His mind drifted upstairs. "Look, Hermione, d'you think you could keep Ron and the other guys down here for a bit? I want to go upstairs and..." he sought for something. "Think for a bit."

"Of course," she said, giving him a sisterly hug. "How long?"

"Only 'bout an hour or so."

"Will do."

*

He walked into his dormitory casually, locking the door behind him and casting a glance around the room.

"So, what do you have planned?" he said softly, eyes falling on Lavender, who was sitting on his bed flipping casually through Flying With the Cannons. He laughed, remembering when Ron had given him that.

"It's not what I have planned, really," she replied, eyes not moving from the book, "but more of what things might progress to." Her eyes slid off the book and up to him, lashes lowered in a way that made Harry's heart skip a few beats.

"Oh," was all he said.

He watched as she made her way over to him, smiling at him and wrapping her arms around his neck. Her fingers danced in his hair, and he bent his head down to meet her lips with his. His hands slid to the comfortable curve of her waist, thinking that yes, this was much better than the kiss he had partaken in earlier. There was something about the way that a girl kissed that sent shivers down his spine and gave him not-so-innocent thoughts, plagued his mind with them.

They found their way over to his bed, lips parting for barely thirty seconds, before he found himself on his bed with one of the most beautiful girls in his year, and she was all his. He kissed down her jaw line, hands deftly unbuttoning the top buttons on her shirt and untying her tie. He nipped and sucked the tantalizingly soft skin along her collar, earning a sound that he would most definitely like to hear again. Hands slid up her sides and barely brushed her breasts, her body arching up to meet his at the soft touch.

She removed his glasses and stared into his emerald green eyes, the ones she loved so much. They characterized everything about Harry. His ambition, courage, strength, wisdom, pain.. love. Her hands moved to remove his shirt, nails dragging slowly across his chest, making him gasp. She pushed his hands away and took care of her shirt for him, his eyes following her fingers as she slowly undid each button. He slid his hands along the smooth expanse of her stomach, dragging a finger slowly down the middle of her stomach. She exhaled, staring up at him with so much emotion in his eyes. He felt her hands move to undo his jeans and he helped her, kicking them off and taking care of her skirt.

He kissed down her chest, placing kisses along the dip between her breasts, trailing down her stomach. His tongue dipped briefly into her navel, his eyes staying on her face the whole time. He then brought his lips to hers, their tongues meeting in a velvety hot kiss, and they disappeared beneath the covers.

*

A while later, Harry lay with Lavender in his arms, who was asleep from the physical exertion. He waved his wand and the curtains closed around his bed just as he heard what was unmistakably Ron stumbling up the stairs. He waved his wand towards the door, murmuring, "Alohomora!" The door lock clicked just before he stumbled in.

"Harry?" he said hoarsely, walking into the room and pausing near his bed.

Harry held his breath, hoping that Ron would realize that he wanted privacy - since his curtains were closed and all.

Apparently not. He winced as the curtains opened and Ron's head popped in. His friend's eyes widened.

"Not now," Harry said softly, pulling the blankets up around Lavender a bit more and going bright red in the face.

"Right, then," said Ron, his voice a bit higher than normal as he disappeared outside of the curtains.

Harry could not help but cursing beneath his breath. He had not wanted to be caught in such a compromising situation; he just hoped that Ron would not go off and tell their other roommates. He gently shook Lavender, pressing his lips to her cheek.

"Wake up, love," he said softly in her ear. "I hate to wake you but the other guys will be up here soon."

She stirred and listened to him, nodding and sliding her clothing back on gracefully. He ran his fingers through her silken hair, tidying it up a bit before she emerged from the curtains. He also got dressed, making sure he looked neat before opening the curtains.

As soon as he opened the curtains, the other three of his dorm mates burst through the door and froze when they saw Harry and Lavender emerging from his bed. Harry groaned inwardly as soon as he saw the smirk sweep across Seamus's face.

"What have you two been doing, eh?" asked the Irish boy, and Harry felt a surge of hatred towards him.

"Nothing, really," Harry replied level-headedly, shrugging. "Lavender and I were just talking, really."

"Yeah, and I was just about to go back to my dorm, so I could go to bed. I'm wiped from the excitement of the day." She could not help but smile at that, then covered up. "I'm so glad we won!"

Seamus raised his eyebrows at the couple, shifting his gaze to Ron, who he knew had been up here longer than they had. Harry followed his gaze and pleaded mentally with Ron to keep his mouth shut.

"Yeah, Seamus, they were talking," said Ron, nodding towards the Irish boy. "Now, if you'll all shut up, my head is killing me."

Harry could have kissed Ron right then.

Then, his brain played an evil trick on him and reminded him of the kiss from the locker room. He frowned and turned to Lavender, giving her a kiss. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said, hiding the troubled thoughts from his face.

"Night, love," she replied, and walked to the door. "Night, boys."

*

Harry was standing in the rain on the Quidditch Pitch, trying to collect the Bludgers after a practice session. Practice had ended early due to torrential rains and lightning that flashed every minute, making it far too dangerous for them to be flying. One of the Bludgers zoomed towards his head, and he jumped on top of it, wrestling it back into its restraints in the box. The other followed, and he fumbled with the soaked restraints, finally getting it in the chest and slamming the lid shut. He carried it to the broom shed and stepped inside the wonderfully dry atmosphere, setting the chest inside the cabinet and fixing the lock on the cabinet once more, the combination that only the Quidditch captains and the professors knew.

He turned from the cabinet and found himself being kissed once more, the gentle but rough kiss reminiscent of the one from the locker room. However, not being able to control his dream self, he gave in to the kisses, filled with passion and warmth. It was definitely a male, though Harry could not make out whom it was.

The person stripped Harry of his scarlet robes and he assisted him, lifting his sopping shirt over his head. He was once more blindfolded, though he did not care - he could feel his dream self becoming aroused at the thought of being blindfolded and ravaged in the broom shed. He found himself immersed in the dream once more, wondering how he could know he was in a dream and not wake up. Why he could feel all the sensations. The other person allowed him to remove their shirt and cloak, though not before making sure that Harry's blindfold was secure. He then gasped as the boy kissed down his neck, the acute sensations driving Harry wild with lust. A soft moan slipped between his lips, and the other boy seemed eager to make him make that sound again.

Harry felt his pants and knickers being stripped of him and stars exploded before his eyes. This was so nice, so intimate and yet so... kinky that Harry could have died right then and there. He writhed with pleasure as horribly wonderful things happened - and could not help but rip the blindfold off in the mad heat of lust, wondering who was doing this to him.

He shouted with fear and ecstasy at the same time.

He sat up in bed, sheets damp with sweat and something else that Harry wished was not there. Not after the dream he had just had. He breathed heavily, glancing down at his crotch and scowling at it for betraying him.

There was no possible way that a dream about Draco Malfoy was true. He hissed at the thought of it, and wrapped himself up in his dressing robe, walking to the bathroom and stripping his clothes.

He turned the cold water on.