Hogwarts: The Legacy

(c)2005 by Josh Cohen. May not be reprinted, except for personal use. The Potterverse was created by JK Rowling, and remains her property. I\'m just borrowing it for a little while.

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NINE: THE GAME

Warning: Contains sexual activity.

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On Christmas Day, a freak heat wave had hit America’s southeast region, and Jason’s father had transfigured his winter clothes into lightweight jeans and t-shirts. The party that Aunt Jamie and Uncle Kevin had planned to hold in their house was instead held outside, on the deck and in the yard.

Jason, though, was not thrilled with the way things were going. His cousin Rachel, who attended the Atlanta Academy of Applied Sorcery, was more interested in her appearance than her studies, and didn’t have any useful books for him to read. She constantly derided him, and often she would distract him while he was trying to do his homework. Evidently, the AAAS (or, as Jason called it in the privacy of his own head, “The Ass”) didn’t give homework over the holidays because their year changed on the first of January, instead of the first of September. Rachel, who was a year older than Jason, was to start her fourth year of school – “eighth grade”, they called it.

The Frost family – Uncle Kevin’s last name – lived on a street in what appeared to be a normal, suburban area, much like Jason’s dad’s friend Terry Boot. But the street was heavily warded; none but the wizarding could even make the turn, and every one of the thirty houses on the street were home to a wizarding family.

Jason had his own room, even though it was in the basement. But that didn’t matter. He’d rather have been at home in Aberdeen, or even back at Hogwarts with the ten or so students who’d had to stay over the holidays. At least at Hogwarts he’d have been able to look up information on the horribly-strange Transfiguration theory that Professor Morrigan had assigned them two feet of parchment on. It was so specific that even his father had no idea where to begin.

The worst of it, though, was on Christmas night. Actually, Boxing Day morning. Rachel had invited a dozen of her friends over for the party, and they’d camped out in the basement. The basement itself did have plenty of room – two smallish bedrooms, one of which was Jason’s for the week, and a full bathroom, in addition to a long living-room area that had once been used as a playroom by the previous owners’ children. But even when Jason closed the door to his bedroom and cast the best silencing spell he could on the door, the noise was still pervasive.

Around three – the same time as Hermione and Draco returned home from the Weasleys’ party, the same party that his parents were invited to every year, the same party they’d declined to attend for some unknown reason – there was a knock at the door to Jason’s bedroom.

“What?”

“Come out and play with us,” Rachel said. “You’re bringing the whole party down.”

“I’ll just stay in, if that’s all right.”

“No, it’s not all right. Alohomora!” There was a click, and the door to the bedroom swung open.

“Rachel, what the hell are you doing? Besides invading my privacy?”

His cousin stumbled into the room and grabbed him by the wrist; Jason was just glad he was wearing workout pants and a Ravenclaw Athletics t-shirt, instead of pajamas.

“Rachel, you’re bloody drunk!”

“No shit, Sherlock,” she snapped, and then dissolved into a fit of giggles.

Jason allowed her to pull him out of his bedroom and into the basement living room. “Look,” she said, “we need a favor. We’re playing truth-or-dare, and I got dared to get you to join the game. See if we could still have any fun with your mopey ass around.”

One of the boys passed him a bottle of beer. “Don’t spoil it,” he said out of the corner of his mouth, “if we get her drunk enough maybe we can make her take her top off.”

Jason made a face – he had absolutely no desire to see his cousin in any state of undress – but he took the beer. Better that he stayed out in the main room to make sure Rachel didn’t do anything she’d regret later.

Of course, Jason ended up regretting it far more.

“I dare you,” said a girl named Alicia who was currently wearing no brassiere or pants under her skirt or jumper, “to take him,” and she pointed at Jason, “into that room,” she pointed at his bedroom, “and let him see you naked.”

There was a chorus of catcalls when the subject of the dare, another girl named Alisha – evidently the spelling made all the difference – blushed to the tips of her ears. Jason had been through four beers now, and was at the point where he thought the translucently-pale redhead was actually quite adorable when she blushed like that.

“It’s okay,” he said, “you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Come on, Jason,” a boy named Jim said snidely, “you’ve got a chance to see a naked girl. Just go with it, man.”

He sighed and stood up, quite a bit more unsteadily than he expected, and held out his hand to Alisha, who was making her way to her feet. “Come on, then,” he said. “Let’s get it over with.” Jason was already a little grumpy, even through the alcoholic haze; he’d been roundly chastised for only taking truths, and when dared just two turns ago, had been required to pretend he was wanking off, even though his clothes were still on. It had been exceedingly humiliating.

Alisha followed Jason into his bedroom and closed the door, then aimed a locking spell at it. She was not even close to sober. “All right,” she said quietly, “let’s get this over with, like you said.”

She reached for the zipper of her hooded sweatshirt – it was what she’d worn, instead of a shirt – but Jason touched her wrist and smiled. “You really don’t have to. I won’t tell if you don’t.”

But she brushed away his hand and pulled the zipper down in one quick movement. “I don’t want to be the one who gets caught welching on a dare,” she said as she pushed the sweatshirt off her shoulders and dropped it on Jason’s bed.

Jason turned away from her, but not before he caught a glimpse of her large, freckled breasts. Despite himself, despite his desire to not enjoy this game at all, he found the sight of the fifteen-year-old Alisha half-naked quite an arousing one.

“Am I that ugly?” she snapped.

“No, not at all,” Jason said. “I just don’t feel any need for you to do something humiliating, especially if you don’t really want to. It’s not right.” He kept his eyes trained on the wall.

“Just turn around,” Alisha said. “Please?”

“I shouldn’t.”

Her hand rested on his shoulder. “I want you to.”

“So,” said one of the other boys, whose name Jason remembered being Tyler, “how was it?”

“Fine,” Jason replied noncommittally. Alisha blushed, her cheeks as red as her hair.

Tyler looked at her. “You didn’t do it, did you?”

Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times.

“She did it,” Jason said. “Trust me, she did it.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“Believe what you want,” Alisha snapped. “I took all my clothes off in there.”

“Fine.” Tyler shot back. “It’s your turn anyway, Jason. Tell us what it looked like. That can be your truth.”

Jason had just sat down; he stood up quickly. “The hell with this. It’s not been fun at all.”

“What, are you afraid?” Tyler got to his feet. Rachel attempted to do so as well, but was too impaired to get farther than her knees.

“Bugger off,” Jason said as he made his way to his bedroom door. He didn’t turn around. “I’m done.”

Tyler walked quickly across the room and grabbed Jason by the shoulder, spinning him around. “She didn’t show you shit, did she.”

Jason was a couple of inches shorter than Tyler, and that gave Tyler more confidence than Jason expected he’d normally possess. “Take your hand off me,” Jason said quietly.

With his other hand, Tyler pulled out his wand. “Or what?”

Jason reached slowly into his pocket; Tyler pushed him away and held out his wand in a dueling position. But when Jason took his hand out, it was empty. “Were you really going to hex me?”

Now some of the others were on their feet as well, watching with interest.

Tyler slipped his wand back into his pocket. “Never mind.”

The tension level of the room started to deflate.

Then came the punch that almost no one expected. Tyler lunged forward, all his weight behind his fist; Jason, who had turned away, didn’t see it coming. But when he heard the thump, and the resulting scream, he whirled around.

Alisha was on the floor, her hand to her jaw.

Jason swung.

Tyler hit the floor soundlessly.

There was complete silence for a moment.

“I’m going to bed,” Jason said. “Good night.”

He closed the door behind himself and rubbed the knuckles of his left hand. All the Quidditch training he’d done for the past few months had put far more into the punch than he’d ever used before. Not that Jason was much of a fighter, but he’d got into some scrapes in his time.

There was a tap on the door.

“What is it?”

“It’s me.”

Jason opened the door and Alisha stepped in. “Close the door,” she said quietly.

“Are you all right?” he asked, peering at Alisha’s face. “It sounded a lot worse than that.”

“Jim cast a healing spell,” she told him as she sat on the edge of his bed. “And we all petrified Tyler. He’s stuck in the bathtub, behind the curtain, until morning.”

Jason chuckled. “So... then what can I do for you?”

“I just wanted to thank you,” she said.

“Oh.” He blushed. “You’re welcome.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” She patted the bed. “Come sit with me.”

“I... I really shouldn’t.”

“It’s okay, Jason. Really.”

Jason sat down gingerly, and Alisha put her arm around his shoulder. He felt a twitch low in his stomach.

“You’re really sweet,” she said. “No one I know would ever not look while I was taking my clothes off.”

“Well,” he told her, swallowing hard, “I did catch a glimpse of your... you know...”

Alisha smiled. “It’s all right.”

Jason tried – and failed – to stifle a yawn. “I hate to be a bother, but I am actually getting rather tired. Are you going to be all right?”

Alisha’s smile turned into the kind of smile Jason had last seen on Francesca. “I’d be more all right if you let me stay.”

“Excuse me?” Jason shot to his feet. “Alisha, I barely know you!”

She laughed. “You’re so... so... British!”

“Sorry?”

“So proper. So correct. It must be the accent.”

“My mother is an American, you know.”

“Yeah, I figured that out when I met her earlier.” Alisha stood up and stepped closer to Jason, who backed up. “Look, I just want to kiss you, and stay in here with you. Is that all right?”

“Um...”

“Jason, please? I really want to.”

She rose up on her toes, but Jason turned his head and her lips touched his cheek.

“What?” she asked, her fingers going to his chin.

“I just...”

Alisha dropped to the flats of her feet. “You have a girl back in England, don’t you?”

“Um. Sort of.”

“Oh.” Alisha shrugged. “Can I still stay with you? I’d feel safer.”

“I guess.” Jason gestured toward the bed. “I’ll take the floor, and I’ll lay in front of the door, just in case.”

“Are you kidding?”

“Should I be?”

Alisha sat on the bed and scooted back against the wall. “There’s plenty of room. Come lay with me.”

“I... I really don’t feel comfortable about that.”

She whipped out a whipped-puppy expression that was so convincing Jason actually laughed. “Pleeeeeeeeeeeeease?”

He heaved a sigh and went to the bed. “Do you mind if I take my shirt off? I usually don’t sleep in one.”

“Not in the least.”

Jason didn’t realize it until after Alisha was snuggled against him, sleeping the sleep of the pleasantly-buzzed, that she might have been willing to do something without any strings attached. But whenever his mind strayed there, the image of Dina, dark and slender and elegant, stared back at him from over her shoulder.

He sighed lightly, so as not to wake Alisha, and closed his eyes.

“Alisha?”

Jason’s eyes were wide open.

“Hmm?” Alisha’s left eye showed a bare sliver of blue.

“Could you please... um...” He coughed, trying to make his voice sound less strangled. “Um, could you maybe move your hand?”

“Wha?” She squeezed, and Jason shuddered.

“Please. Could you move your hand? Now?”

Alisha’s eyes opened the rest of the way. “I know guys like this,” she said quietly, her voice hoarse with sleep. “I don’t mind.”

But Jason reached down and shifted her hand. “That’s all right.”

Alisha slid her hand up Jason’s chest. “I don’t get you,” she said. “Do you not like me?”

“Oh, I like you just fine,” he assured the girl who had just slept nestled against him for what felt like an entire day – the clock on the wall showed that only six hours had passed, though. “I just... it doesn’t feel right. I did just meet you.”

Alisha smiled. “We do things a little differently in America,” she said, massaging his chest with light circles of her palm. “No other guy I know would’ve stopped me from kissing him, no other guy would’ve looked away when I took my clothes off, and no other guy would’ve taken my hand off his cock.”

“Sorry?”

“What?”

“‘Cock’?”

Alisha’s laugh was soft and velvety. “Oh, that’s right. You guys don’t call it that.”

Jason realized what she was talking about. “Ah. Sorry about that.”

Alisha pushed herself up onto one elbow. “Look, Jason, let me make this perfectly clear to you: I think you’re really cute. I would really like to kiss you. And I don’t mind doing a few other things if you want them. You’re nice, and you’re sweet, and you decked Tyler for me.” Her hand returned to his crotch, and despite himself, Jason’s back arched a little. “And I can tell you like that.”

“Alisha, I have–”

“Yes, you said that, you have a girl. ‘Sort of.’ But I’m here right now, and she isn’t, and she’ll never find out.” Alisha slid her palm up slightly, then tucked her fingers under the waistband of Jason’s sweat-pants. “Just say yes.”

Her fingertips moved lower, in tiny increments.

Jason fought with himself.

He looked down at Alisha. He looked at the image of Dina in his head.

And then, with a silent apology to Dina, he whispered, “yes.”

Alisha’s hand moved down the rest of the way and her warm fingers wrapped around the length of Jason’s morning erection. She leaned over and rested her lips against his, then started to kiss him in earnest.

With each swipe of her tongue against his came a stroke of the length of his penis.

With each stroke came a soft humming moan.

With each moan came a squeeze of her hand.

“Hold on,” Alisha said. “Let me get these off you.”

“What?” Jason was in somewhat of a daze. Until this moment, no hand except his own had touched him in this way.

She pulled off her sweatshirt, then wriggled out of her shorts, leaving her in plain blue cotton pants. A small part of Jason’s brain that was still operating at full efficiency told him that her brassiere must not have been put back on after she stripped in his room all those hours ago.

When her hands went to his waistband and pulled his clothes down to his ankles, though, he ceased to think about that.

“This is nice,” she whispered as her hand went round him again. “Not the biggest I’ve ever seen, but nice.”

Jason didn’t even comprehend what she’d said. Experimentally, he reached over and touched one of her breasts – it was soft, and warm, and the moment his fingers made contact, her nipples, large as galleons and the color of strawberries, grew hard and tight. His hands cupped the soft flesh and he tilted to one side. Her hand stroked him again and again, strong fingers and a soft palm making him feel harder than he’d ever felt before.

Their kisses grew more insistent. Alisha’s thigh went across Jason’s hip and he felt the cotton of her pants rubbing the ridge of his bone. “What are you doing?” he asked against her mouth.

“You’re not the only one who likes being touched,” she whispered back.

Jason ran his hand experimentally downward until he touched the edge of her pants. “Do you... um... want me to..?”

“If you want.”

He cupped the warm place between her thighs, experimentally at first. Her hand tightened and she started stroking harder.

His finger pressed between what felt like lips. There was a small bump under the cotton, and every time he brushed it, she drew in her breath.

“Hold on,” she said. Her hand left him for a moment and she pushed her pants down to her knees. “Now.”

When Jason’s finger touched the soft hairs between Alisha’s legs, he felt a surge straight to his penis. “Wow,” Alisha whispered. “That was neat.”

“What?”

“You just got thicker.”

“Oh.”

He ran his finger deeper along Alisha’s skin, feeling slickness and wetness. This was something new. “Is that... all right?” He was having trouble concentrating.

“That’s great,” she sighed, grinding her hips against his questing finger.

Jason thought about seeing what it felt like with his finger inside her, but when it became clear that touching the little bump between her lips was what she responded best to, he gave that up and concentrated on the bump instead.

Alisha’s gasps became moans, and she pressed her face against his shoulder, stroking him harder and faster, almost as fast as he did it himself when he was doing it solo.

“Alisha... I’m...”

“So am I.”

He felt her teeth dig into the flesh of his shoulder muscle and a flush of wetness engulfed his finger. Her body practically sucked it inside herself.

A moment later, he was spurting over his stomach and her hand, thick streams of it. He hadn’t wanked in more than a week; it had felt weird doing it at home, with his parents in the next room.

After a minute of gasping and sighing on both their parts as they came down, Alisha lifted her hand off Jason’s flesh. “You’re the first guy who’s ever offered to get me off,” she murmured. “Thanks.”

“Thank you,” he responded. “Sorry I got it all over your hand.”

“It’s okay.” Alisha shrugged. “I’m a witch.” She accio’d her wand and cast evanesco on her hand, then on Jason’s stomach and crotch. It was a strange sensation, like a mist of ice water, but when it was over, he missed it.

Alisha kissed him one more time. “We should probably get dressed. My parents are coming to pick me up at noon.”

The clock read half-eleven. “Probably.”

As Alisha dressed, she stared at Jason, who was laying on the bed, still completely uncovered. “Thank you again,” she said. “I really enjoyed it.”

He had the presence of mind to finally pull up his clothes from around his ankles. “It was brilliant,” Jason said as he got up. “Absolutely mind-blowing.”

Alisha grinned. “Come back next Christmas, okay?”

He grinned back. “I’ll try.”

It was ten minutes later when the guilt set in.

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Notes: I know I use the terms \"sweat-pants\" and \"workout pants\" in this piece, even though in the context of the Potterverse, \"pants\" are what Americans would call underwear. However, I really didn\'t know what to call them. You\'ll have to bear with me. Also, for the record, Tyler was trying to hit Jason -- drunk American teenagers; you know how they can be -- but Alisha tried to stop him and got in the way. Tyler is based on a kid who went to the same summer camp I did. I hated him. He treated anyone not good at sports -- and at the time, I wasn\'t good at sports -- like they were less-than-human, and when you\'re between the ages of 9 and 13, that can be devastating.

Tomorrow\'s update -- Chapter 10, entitled \"Sunset\" -- will not contain sex, but you should definitely tune in for it. It was the hardest chapter I\'ve written of the 22 chapter\'s I\'ve completed thus far.

There\'s a communication theory called the \"Spiral of Silence\", which says that a small number of people who may have an opinion will keep silent if the larger group has no opinion or one that differs from the minority opinion, because people basically want to be accepted. I wonder if that\'s how it works with reviews. genoc reviewed me, and then a few minutes later, so did intcrimgrrl. Maybe genoc broke the spiral? *shrug* Regardless, thanks to you two for your kind words. Now the rest of you, commence breaking the spiral as well.

That is all.