Dusk

Dusk

The Snitch fell to the floor silently and bounced once before a soft landing on the grass. Its tiny wings fluttered a few weak protests before faltering. It began to dim, as a Snitch did when it was not in play in a Quidditch game. Not many people knew this.

Feet scuffled past the abandoned prize, an irony as just minutes ago, hundreds of screaming students and fourteen intensely concentrated Quidditch players had been concentrating on one small, nearly invisible object.

Harry Potter found this ironic.

He thought of the Snitch, and of the wind streaking through his tousled black hair, and of how far away the ground was when he flew above the Quidditch Pitch, his eyes searching every corner of the sky for the tiny golden ball. He had to look up, down, and everywhere at once. Being a Seeker was not for those prone to dizziness.

Scalding water poured down Harry's skin, raising the hair on his body and his very temperature a few degrees. He breathed the steam in, letting his wash away the sting and mud of loss, of a game he should've been able to take effortlessly. Now, his flaws glared at him angrily, whispering about his clumsiness on a broom, how slow he was for a Seeker, how he would never play like his father had, perhaps this was all a mistake, and he would be politely asked to leave the team....it was for their own good, after all.

A ridiculous amount of dirt washed off his smooth skin, collecting in the drain in the open showers of the empty, dim locker room. He watched it fall through the holes in the drain, disappearing without any trace of having been there. The loss of the match was not nearly as easily washed away.

Harry shook his head, spraying water. His skin glistened with heat and numbness, he didn't even feel the scorching water anymore. He felt as though he had fallen off his broom and was slowly gliding to earth, a place he was in no hurry to get to. He rubbed his face with his hands, trying to scrub away the uncertainties....when a sharp pain shot through his hand. He did not cry out or make any sound at all, simply brought his hands away to find a large, raw cut sliced through his palm and onto the back of his hand. He was not even surprised at the wound, though he hadn't any idea how he'd gotten it. Perhaps his broom was splintered and he hadn't noticed, caught up in the game....he stuck the wound under the shower, and nearly gasped aloud as the boiling hot water seeped into his bloodstream. He winced and leaned his head back as he endured the white-hot pain in his hand, biting his lip until it, too, bled.

Nearly twenty minutes had passed since he'd stepped into the shower, and he hadn't meant to wash or do anything useful, simply try to collect himself, drown away his anger at his own incompetence. He was alone in the showers, leaving him free to stand nude beneath the blistering water as it pounded into him.

A sudden noise removed him from his reverie, and he did not even look up as he heard another enter the locker room. He expected to see Fred or George or one of the other Gryffindor teammates come up beside him, but the person standing beside him was none of those. It was someone he very little expected to see, nor particularly wanted to be around. His arch nemesis, really, his rival. As though Harry could have such a thing in the boy.

Cedric Diggory stood beside him, turning on the showerhead and allowing the water to run over him as well. His water was not nearly as hot as Harry's; Harry could tell. Why would someone fresh off such a spectacular victory mean to drown himself in that? Harry was soon surprised to find, however, that steam began to rise from Cedric's naked form as well, and some of Harry's discontented state, however self-inflicted, began to rise with it. An irony, as just moments ago...

The two had not met eyes since Cedric had come in, for the mutual understanding was not an issue either wanted to address. Harry looked away, the water drumming into his ears. He felt Cedric staring at him, and an uncomfortable wave swept over him. He raised his eyes to Cedric's waistline, right above the dark tumble of his penis, and Cedric's eyes bore into him like daggers. Harry slowly raised his eyes to meet Cedric's, and found the instant they found each other, he couldn't look away if he'd been forced to. Cedric's gray eyes sparkled whether they meant to or not, and now, they were ablaze. He and Harry locked eyes for what seemed like an infinite amount of time, neither daring to move, until Cedric took a step towards Harry. This small step put them perpetually closer, and their glistening faces were now inches apart. Cedric had a few inches on Harry, and he breathed Harry in as Harry stood in front of him, taking Cedric's movement as an opportunity to look away. He focused his eyes on the drain, swirling the dirt down with the pouring water. His eyes darted to Cedric, and he could make out the water droplets on Cedric's jaw line, threatening to abandon him at any second. He looked away again, and could feel Cedric's breath combined with the dampness of Harry's neck. The tiny wings fluttered a few weak protests....Neither moved again, though their breathing slowed to match one another's.

Then, not entirely sudden, Cedric's hand slid across Harry's waistline, and onto his back. His fingers fit perfectly in the small of Harry's back, and Harry felt himself inch closer to the boy, breathing directly onto his chest. The scalding water continued to pound their nude forms relentlessly. Harry felt Cedric's longing all of a sudden. He didn't know how he knew, but his mind instructed him to tilt his head upwards, where Cedric's lips awaited....silently and softly, the Snitch falls to the ground.

The two shadowy forms became one split from the bottom up, until the shadows intensified, and the split was slowly closed. Harry felt every inch of Cedric against him, and yet the numbing effect of the water made him feel as if he had finally stopped falling toward earth, and had instead changed course to heaven. Cedric's hand never left Harry's back, starting to gently rub it, and his other hand found Harry's beneath the heaviness of the hot water. Harry gasped suddenly, his lips left Cedric's, and he pulled his hand away. Cedric's eyes searched Harry's for a moment, confused, until Harry raised his hand to eye-level, and Cedric's eyes rested upon the thin cut half-circling Harry's hand. Harry heard his intake of breath, even above the noise of the water slamming the tiled floor, and Cedric did something Harry did not expect, nor protest. He took Harry's hurt hand in his and brought the wound to his mouth, sucking gently. Harry gasped and had to fight to not double over, in both pain and twisted ecstasy. Cedric's warm mouth against the sharp pain in Harry's hand created am effect that Harry felt would be similar to being electrocuted again and again, and each time surging with life anew. Harry closed his eyes and felt himself falling....his head met Cedric's burning shoulder, and he buried his face in the taller boy's neck. His hand throbbed, and Cedric held Harry to him, hand resting on his back.

The room grew continually darker as the two boys stood lost in each other in the showers. The sun sunk below the Forbidden Forest, the treetops of which were barely visible from the basement locker room. A black and orange glow of dusk set the square where they stood aglow, and they, like the sun, burnt away in the sweltering shadows. It began to dim, as a Snitch did when it was not in play in a Quidditch game.

Not many people knew this.