Strange Desire

Author: SIT
Title: Strange Desire
Rating: R
Author’s Note: Thanks go to my lovely beta Nephimar for providing me with the title and fixing all minor errors. And also for helping me when my muse went on vacation.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other of J.K. Rowling’s wonderful characters. All works belong to J. K. Rowling. I am just using them for my own odd imagination!


Strange Desire
Vivid Dreams
“Oh Draco!” moaned Harry, leaning his head back as the blond between his legs worked his magic on Harry’s growing erection.

Draco released Harry with an audible pop. “Now, now, you must be patient, Harry. Or else I’ll make you beg,” said Draco as he grinned up at Harry.

“Please don’t,” cried Harry, looking down at Draco with pleading eyes.

“Harry! Harry, get up,” said a voice from afar. Snapping his eyes open, Harry realized it was his best friend, Ron Weasley, who was shouting at him.

It was only a dream? Damn. Well, at least it was a good dream, thought Harry. It had all felt so real, so right. Glancing down as he shifted into a sitting position on his bed, he realized that ‘little Harry’ had awoken at some point during his very life-like dream.

“Have a nice dream there mate?” asked Ron, who had seen Harry’s tented blankets.

“Bugger off, you wanker,” said Harry, tossing a pillow at Ron, who ducked out of the way just in time.

“Oh yeah, I’m the wanker when you’re the one having wet dreams,” said Ron returning the pillow with a more successful throw than Harry’s.

“Come on. Let’s get to the Great Hall before all the good food is gone,” Ron said before exiting and heading for the Common Room where he’d wait for Harry.

Harry waited for the door to close then frowned at his sheet-clad lap. Damned dream. He was going to be late for breakfast because of it.

He settled back against the headboard of his four poster with a frustrated sigh. Once in a comfortable position, he took matters into hand - literally. He reached beneath the sheets and waist band of his boxers to grasp his erection and began a steady pace.

Visions of tousled blond hair, parted red lips and pupils of gray-blue eyes dilated with lust filled Harry’s mind. In an embarrassingly short amount of time, his seed spilled onto his hand and the inside of his boxers.

Harry caught his breath and roused to gather items for a severely needed shower. He traversed the short route to the showering room and sat fresh clothing and towels outside his stall.

As warm water cascaded over his body, he grabbed shampoo and washed, rinsed and repeated as necessary. He soaped up quickly then washed it away. Now fresh and squeaky clean, he shut off the water, toweled dry and dressed.

Harry met Ron and a harassed looking Hermione in the Common Room.

“What took so long?” she asked.

Harry shared a look with Ron and tried to fight both a blush and a grin.

Hermione caught the exchange and turned to the portrait hole. “Boys,” she muttered as she headed for the exit.

---

As Harry, Ron and Hermione neared the Great Hall, they came head-to-head with Draco Malfoy and his pet morons, Crabbe and Goyle.

“Well, if it isn’t Potty, Mudblood, and the Weasel,” sneered Draco.

“Bugger off, Malfoy,” said Ron.

“I’d watch it if I were you, Weasel.” Said Draco.

“Well now,” said Professor Snape, walking up to them. “You’re all behaving. Isn’t that correct, Mr. Malfoy?” Snape looked directly at Harry as he asked.

“Yes we were, Professor,” answered Hermione.

“That will be five points from Gryffindor, Ms. Granger, for speaking when not spoken to,” roared Snape as he swept past them, leaving Draco, Crabbe and Goyle snickering as they walked out of the Great Hall.

“Ugh, can you believe that? Five points for answering a question,” grumbled Hermione as she took a seat across from Ron and Harry at the Gryffindor table.

“Don’t worry about it ‘Mione, we’ve lost more then that before!” Harry smiled at her before taking a sip of pumpkin juice.

“Yeah. Besides, Snape probably docked us five points because Professor Sprout wouldn’t give him his morning blow job,” said Ron smugly.

Harry spat out his juice and Hermione’s mouth fell open. “WHAT?!” they asked in unison.

“What?” He looked from one to the other. “You mean no one told you about Snape and Sprout shacking up together?” Ron sounded shocked.

“No, when did that happen? And who told you?” Harry asked once he was able to overcome his disgust.

“Fred and George owled me about it three weeks ago. Honestly, are you sure I didn’t tell you?”

They shook their head and Ron continued, “the twins were at the Jabbering Jarvey - You know, that new pub that just opened in Hogsmead? - Well, Dumbledore and flitwick were in there and Fred over heard them talking about how Snape and Sprout have been all buddy-buddy lately. Then, when George went to the lavatory, he found the love-birds in there in a rather compromising position.” Ron shivered at at the thought of the Professors doing the horizontal tango.

Right as Harry was going to ask Ron how long the two had been mating like bunny rabbits, Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet came up to them.

“Harry, hurry up and finish eating, then get down to the pitch. Angelina booked a double practice session,” Katie said just before the girls dashed off towards the doors leading outside.

“We should be going too, Ron,” Hermione said hoping Ron understood what she’d left unspoken.

“But, ‘Mione, we just got -” started Ron as Hermione blushed and Harry coughed. “Oooh! Err...right. Sorry mate, but my uh services are needed.” Ron fought a blush as he led Hermione through the door.

Harry pushed his plate away. He loved his friends dearly, but he just couldn’t eat when he knew they’d left to do that. He heaved a sigh and got up from his seat. He left the Great Hall and headed for the quidditch changing rooms. An extra long practice and the day was already beginning to exhaust him.

When Harry arrived in the Gryffindor changing rooms, he found that his other teammates had preceded him and were already on the pitch. He walked over to his locker and extracted his practice robes. As he was pulling them over his head, he heard someone moving in the next row of lockers.

“Hello? Who’s there?” he called. After a few moments of silence, Harry turned his attention back to his quidditch gear. I must be hearing things, thought Harry.

As Harry finished dressing, he heard the noise again. “Ginny? Colin? I told you Colin, you can’t take pictures of me when I’m undressing,” called Harry as he slowly started to inch his way closer to the source of the sound.

“Whoever you are, I’m coming...” said Harry and with a sudden flash of irrational fear, he looked around and grabbed the closest thing at hand. (It happened to be a banana left on a near by bench.) “And I’m armed too!” he said as he held his breath, frightened by what might be lurking on the other side.

“Err...Don’t come over here, I’m changing,” called who-ever-it-was in a high girlish voice.

“Colin? Is that you?” asked Harry as he came out from behind the lockers, expecting to see the older Creevey. But instead, he was shocked and alarmed to see Draco Malfoy holding something in his right hand.

“Malfoy?! What the hell are you doing in our changing room?” Harry narrowed his eyes at what Draco was holding. “And why do you have a bottle of itching powder with you?”

“Well,” he said, abandoning his fake girlish voice, “if you must know, I was about to get into your pants. At least I was before you so rudely interrupted me.”

Harry blushed slightly at the thought of Malfoy getting into his pants. His blush darkened even further as his trousers tightened. Trying to change his stance so that Malfoy wouldn’t notice the bulge, he shifted his feet. “Erm, what are you going on about, Malfoy?”

“Dear Merlin, Potter,” he said, registering Harry’s reddening cheeks. “You don’t honestly think I meant it like that, do you?! I simply meant that I was going to put itching powder in your pants. And not the ones you’re wearing, perv, these ones!” said Draco, holding up a pair of men’s trousers.

“Uh, Malfoy, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but those aren’t my pants. They’re Ron’s,” said Harry snickering at Malfoy.

“I knew that,” he said as he dropped the pants to the floor. “Shouldn’t you be practicing with the other Gryffindorks, Potter?” sneered Draco.

“Yes. And I will just as soon as you swear that you will never try to get into my pants again,” said Harry, blushing slightly at his comment.

“Hmm...Let me think about that for a minute,” Draco said, theatrically stroking his chin as though deep in thought. “No can do. Besides, if I didn’t know any better I would swear that you like the idea of me being down your pants,” Draco said, smiling coldly.

“What?! Why the hell would you think that?” stammered Harry, his cheeks so red they were almost purple.

“Oh, come now, Potter. You’re much too obvious. What with the way you keep blushing, I’d say you want this,” said Draco stepping closer to the raven-haired boy.

Draco had come so close, Harry could feel his breath softly blowing against his cheek. Harry tried for a scornful voice as he said, “please, Malfoy. I want this just about as much as you do.”

A low chuckle rumbled from the Slytherin’s throat and Harry’s heart beat elevated at the sound.

“And I suppose you’re going to tell me that that’s just your wand in your pocket and you aren’t glad to see me.” Draco’s eyes darted significantly to the front of Harry’s trousers then back to his eyes.

I...err,” stammered Harry, suspecting that his blush would never be given the chance to fade.

“Come now, Potter,” The blonde all but purred. “Let yourself enjoy what your body so clearly wants.”

Draco gave Harry a firm and sudden shove, pinning him to the wall. A pair of lips crashed into Harry’s and a hand darted up his shirt.