Incorrigible Infatuation

2.)

Racey days
Help me through the hopeless haze
But my oh my
Tragic eyes
I can't even recognize myself behind
So if the answer is no
Can I change your mind?


Harry awoke and he wasn’t entirely sure where he was. He was on the floor, yes, he knew this. He also knew that he had strong hot arms wrapped around him in a cast iron grip. He was naked underneath a cover and his head was on a human pillow, which was rather hard, rock hard.

It was exactly twelve days after the dragon incident. To Harry’s surprise nothing in the paper showed him and Marcus. Cedric and the other champions had kept their word, although he noticed Cedric shooting him concerned looks from time to time.

To be honest, he didn’t blame the Hufflepuff. Marcus wasn’t exactly a cuddly teddy bear. No, he was cruel. He was mean. Harry raised his head and stared into his sleeping face. He wasn’t the most beautiful that much was certain.

He also snored. Harry wrinkled his nose before laying his head back down on the pillow-chest. He was used to sleeping on a cold floor, considering the Dursleys. But what was really weird was having someone sleeping next to him. What was even weirder was the fact that neither of them talked. They just - did.

Marcus shifted and Harry yelped when the grip got tighter. His butt was sizzling with pain and he had been surprised by how slow Marcus was last night. He hadn’t felt any pain at all during it, all pleasure, such pleasure that he had been drowning in it until they were both climaxing. It was a strange haze that he found himself inside of.

But then, he’d wake and the pain would be there in full and he wondered briefly why he did it until the memories of the night before came back to him.

He took his wand, cast a tempus charm, and winced when he saw it was five after eight. They had class in fifty-five minutes.

“Marcus.” Harry whispered shaking him.

“Hnn?” He grunted.

“Wake up!”

“Argh!” Marcus growled sourly. “Why?”

“Class.”

“I don’t care,” he ground out. “Go back to sleep.” He was asleep a second later, snoring again.

Sighing, Harry twisted around in those tightened arms and squirmed himself out from under them until he was free.

He was quickly dressing when he heard. “Get back here!”

“I can’t, Marcus. Snape will kill me if I’m late for his class.”

“Fuck Snape,” Marcus said with his eyes closed.

“Ew,” Harry declared, getting a rocky laugh from the lazy teenager.

He held out his hand and Harry tossed his trousers to him. It took Marcus a whole lot longer to get his lazy arse up. He was still cursing and grumbling about the early hours of the morning.

He wasn’t a pleasant person in the morning. Then again, Harry decided, he wasn’t a pleasant person at all.

“Hermione’ll kill me,” Harry breathed checking his watch. “I better get going!” He fixed his hair to the base of his neck, while Marcus glared once at him.

“Tonight?”

Harry stopped in mid tug on his black hair. “Um, yeah.” He smiled and then rushed out really fast, wondering how things got so awkward. He rushed away and toward Gryffindor, only to get bombarded with Ron and Hermione.

“There you are! Here, hurry and change,” she shrieked throwing his robes into his arms.

“Oy, where were you mate?”

Harry stifled a yawn. “Out for a walk,” he lied and gave Hermione that look before rushing to the bathroom to redress and brush his teeth.

Hermione straightened his robes for him and handed him everything he needed before they went to Great Hall with fifteen minutes to go. Marcus wasn’t even in the Great Hall. Harry would bet he went back to sleep in the Slytherin dorms.

“Where is he?” Hermione asked.

“Probably crashed in Slytherin,” he whispered. “I don’t know how it’s gotten like this, Hermione,” he confessed.

She patted his arm. “Don’t worry. You have years to contemplate. Let’s get to class.”

Harry laughed and nodded before downing the rest of his juice.

Ron was going on about the dragon and Harry was personally tired of hearing of it. He was obviously trying to make up for everything he’d said and done.

Transfiguration was followed by McGonagall’s announcement about the Yule Ball. Harry groaned with disgust at the prospect of this.

The girls were excited, even Hermione’s eyes were all alight. Ron was grumbling, but it was worse when she announced that the Champions had to have dates. They were starting the ball.

Horror stretched through Harry as he slapped a hand over his face while walking out with Hermione.

“You’ll have no problem, Harry!”

“I don’t want to dance!” Harry scowled.

“Any girl would say yes to you,” Ron mumbled.

Hermione tutted. “Ron, Harry’s gay.”

Ron stopped in his tracks and gaped at Harry. “Are you?”

Rolling his eyes, Harry nodded. “Yes, Ron, I’m gay.”

“I thought you liked Cho?”

“No,” he declined.

“Ask a guy then?”

Harry groaned and headed toward Gryffindor. He didn’t want to think about that.

That evening, Harry snuck into the abandoned classroom in his invisibility cloak. When he pulled it off, he gasped as the air left him when he was practically slammed up against the wall.

Dark black eyes burned into his eyes. “Who are you taking?” He growled dangerously.

Harry coughed out trying to get his breath back. “Can you dance?” He tried for, hoping to lessen the grip Marcus had on him.

Marcus sneered. “Hell no.” He then loosened up a bit and his blazing eyes lightened a bit.

“Damn, neither can I.” He cringed visibly. “I don’t want to do this!”

The Slytherin regarded him for a moment, before murmuring, “I’ll go.”

Harry looked at him in surprise. “You will?”

“Do you want me too?” Marcus countered.

“Yes,” he said before he could stop himself.

“Why?” Marcus asked sharply.

Harry really didn’t know how to answer that. He shrugged. “Because I do?” He tried. “I know we’re not serious… or anything.”

“You don’t mind ruining your little reputation?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I don’t like attention at all, Marcus!” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“I know,” Marcus retorted. “And you will receive lots of it being with me.”

“But I’m not going to let it stop me from doing what I please,” he mumbled. “You didn’t have to be so rough. I was going to ask you first,” he said in a pout.

Marcus’ expression softened. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled and released Harry, taking a few steps back. “Did I scare you?”

“No,” Harry lied. “Just a little rough.”

“What are we?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know, Marcus,” he confessed and slid down the floor. He folded his invisibility cloak and sat Indian style.

Marcus shifted and sat next to him against the same wall. His legs bent slightly, being way too tall to even attempt Harry’s style of sitting. “Neither do I.”

“Let’s just -” Harry paused a moment. “Be us.”

“What about your friends?”

“Hermione knows about you.”

Marcus sneered but he didn’t comment like most Slytherins would. “She trusts you?”

“She does,” Harry said. “She told me to do what I wished, said that I have enough problems on my shoulders without her nagging at me like a big sister.”

“That’s all she is?” Marcus asked stiffly.

Harry smiled. “Yes, Marcus. I don’t like girls. Hermione is the one person I can trust with anything. She‘s the one who knows everything. She may be muggleborn but I bet your arse she can duel Malfoy under the fucking table.”

Marcus regarded him and his words. “Perhaps,” but he remained non-committing.

Harry supposed that was as good as he was going to get. “Just don’t be mean to her, please?”

The Slytherin rolled his eyes and didn’t answer; he curled his arms around Harry and pulled him close.

Slightly squirming, Harry slid into Marcus’ lap and allowed his hands and mouth to do the talking.

The next day, Harry ran up to Hermione. “Teach me to dance!”

Her eyes widened. “Oh… yes! Of course, Harry. You have to know.”

“No shit! Marcus is a hopeless case.”

Hermione burst into giggles at this and hid her face in her hands. “He’s going with you?” She asked voice muffled.

“Mhmm.” Harry winced. “I know it - will be odd. People will be staring and attention will be drawn- Ron will flip - but you know, I don’t care.”

Hermione sniffed after all her giggles and looked up at him. “Yes, Harry you will learn to dance…”

Marcus watched the dance lessons and scowled. “I have to do that?” He asked in horror. He was sitting on top of a desk in the abandoned classroom that Harry and Marcus had kind of taken over.

Hermione blushed. “It is required, a waltz. Probably two different ones?” Harry learnt quickly how to dance. “You’re a natural.”

Harry laughed. “One of us has to be.” He shot Marcus a look, which made him shrug.

“Never saw the bloody need for it.”

It only took Harry a day to master it but to get Marcus to master it, well that took patience. Marcus refused to let Hermione near him, so Harry took it upon himself to teach the Slytherin, who griped, complained, and became sour near the end of it.

“This is fucking ridiculous!” He let go of Harry and paced. “I hate dancing!”

“You don’t have too…” Harry said quietly.

“I know that,” Marcus growled out. “But if I don’t someone else will be.”

“Only for the dances and then I’ll be sitting out,” Harry insisted.

“What about Granger? She can dance with you.”

“She’s going with someone,” he said and then smiled. “Krum.”

Marcus crossed his arms. “Figures.”

“It won’t be a long dance, I’m sure. It can’t go on for more than fifteen minutes. I can find someone. God knows I’ve had enough people come up to me.”

This made Marcus angry. His cheeks flushed and his eyes narrowed. “I don’t want anyone to touch you,” he hissed angrily.

Wow, Marcus was serious. Harry hadn’t expected that. He probably shouldn’t mention the people who had asked him then.

“Who asked you?” Marcus demanded, making Harry wince.

“Uhm…”

“Tell me!”

“Cho Chang, um four Hufflepuff girls I don’t even know their names. Roger Davies, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Susan Bones, Daphne Greengrass, four Beauxbaton boys, Fleur Delacour…”

“WHAT?!” Marcus snarled. “That bitch asked you out?”

Harry cringed. “Yeah but I immediately said no.” He shuddered horrifically.

“She saw me with you!”

Harry bit his lip. He hadn’t expected Marcus to get so furious. He tilted his head to the side in confusion. What did this mean?

“Then I guess… you get the picture… but um yeah.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Fleur has no effect on me Marcus. None of the Veela did at the Quidditch Cup.”

Marcus relaxed somewhat at this. “Who else?”

Harry hesitated. “It’s not important. I didn’t want to go with them.”

He looked mutinous. “Diggory asked you, didn’t he?”

The younger teen wanted to say no, what could a little white lie hurt? But he sighed and sagged his shoulders. “Everyone asked me, Marcus. Who did isn‘t really relevant. I don‘t rem-”

Marcus grabbed him harshly and shook him. “Then why are you wasting your time with me?” He snarled crossly.

Harry whinged. “Uh, Marcus?”

“Tell me!” He commanded.

“Hurting me!” He squeaked weakly and this caused Marcus to back off immediately. He held his hands up and took a step back. Swallowing, Harry rubbed his arms. “I didn’t want to go with them. I wanted to go with you.”

“Just because we fuck, doesn’t mean you have a priority to me,” he spat.

Harry flinched at that. “I - wasn’t looking at it that way,” he said feeling a little hurt. “I like you Marcus.”

Marcus rolled his eyes. “No, you don’t.”

Harry sighed. “Believe what you will. I can’t convince you. Good night Marcus.” Giving it up as a lost cause, Harry left the room, but not before scooping his invisibility cloak up on the way.

XxX


Harry shivered and brought his cloak around him just a little tighter. The wind picked up and a few flakes were falling on the ground and sometimes into his hair, which was down today.

Hermione came over and sat with him on the bench. “Talk to me, Harry.” She nudged him.

“I don’t understand why I like him,” he confessed with a frown. “I don’t really understand how it happened. I guess right place right time? Or is that wrong place at the wrong time? I was panicking over the dragons… and bam there he was. Is it supposed to happen like this?”

“Sometimes it can,” Hermione answered. “It’s different for everyone. People experience things in a bunch of different ways. You’re young Harry, you are going to have plenty of these trysts. We all will, they are different for each person.”

“I’m only fourteen.”

“Yes, but maturity-wise you are probably that of an eighteen-year-old.”

“More mature than him.”

Hermione giggled. “Well, yes, probably.”

“He’s so sour and mean,” Harry mumbled.

“But you keep going back to him, huh?”

Harry stuck out his tongue and rolled his eyes. “We don’t even talk properly. I talk he grunts or stares at me.”

She snickered at him.

“He freaks out over every little thing though,” Harry moaned and buried his face in his hands. “The first day, he demands to know who I am taking - then after I want him to go with me - I try to teach him to dance and he turns into a right bastard and demands to know everyone who has approached me, then he turns even worse saying stupid stuff.”

“He is insecure,” Hermione answered.

“No shit? So am I!”

“But not as bad as him,” she said.

“I didn’t want them, I told him that, and he doesn’t believe me.”

Hermione curled her arm through his and rested her chin on his shoulder in thought. “Keep trying,” she insisted.

“Why are you so supportive?” Harry asked her. “I know you said it’s because I’m your best friend, but honestly, when this comes out, shit is going to hit the proverbial roof.”

“I don’t know Harry, you have the heart to see something deep within someone that no one else sees. At first, I was startled and worried, but I was going to let you have your life. However, there is a strange thing between you two.”

“Yeah sexual tension.”

She laughed. “Well you have the embarrassing moments out of the way.”

Harry raised his eyes to the gray skies. “You’re telling me.” He gazed over and locked on Viktor who was leaning on the opposite side of the wall. He nudged Hermione. “Viktor,” he whispered.

She blinked and gazed over. “Come here!” She motioned for him and the duck footed Seeker crossed the courtyard. They scooted down and he was just able to sit on the bench. “Harry this is Viktor, Viktor this is Harry.”

“Hello!” Harry raised a hand.

“Hello ‘Arry, I’ve vanted to meet you for avhile,” he said politely. He then eyed Hermione’s hand through Harry’s arm.

“I’m gay Viktor,” he reminded.

Hermione laughed. “He’s like my brother,” she explained.

He nodded. “I know, I saw that very big man in the tents.” He looked sheepish, like he’d been caught with his hand in a cookie jar.

Harry laughed. “Marcus,” he muttered. “The impossible man of the hour.”

Viktor smirked. “Vhy is that?”

“Because he’s a surly, sour, bastard, who is cruel hearted and hates everyone and everything, scowls and gets jealous every time you look over your shoulder.”

“But you like him?” Viktor said the smirking turning into a full on grin.

“Yep,” Harry said making a popping noise with the ‘p.’

“Vell, give it time. He vill come around.”

“I suppose, but if this dance sets him off I can imagine something more.”
He shook his head. “I’m going to get inside, I’m freezing my arse off,” Harry said standing and kissing Hermione’s cheek. “She’s all yours, Viktor.”

Viktor chuckled while Hermione blushed, though she was smiling.

He waved at them and took off back toward the castle where it was warm. He shivered violently as he entered the double doors. “Bloody hell it’s cold,” he murmured to himself and shook the flakes from his hair.

Timing was a very bad thing for Harry; luck was definitely not on his side, because the doors to the Slytherin dungeons opened at the exact same time Cedric came racing down the halls, shouting his name.

Harry froze, eyes wide in shock when the blonde stopped in front of him, panting. “I have been - looking all over for you.”

Feeling a bit sick in the stomach at the fact that Marcus was standing opposite, Harry twitched. “Oh? I was with Hermione,” he said purposely hoping Marcus got the hint that he wasn’t looking for Cedric.

Smirking, the blue-eyed Hufflepuff touched him on the shoulders and glared at the Slytherins before pulling him aside. “I have to ask you, about your egg. Have you figured it out yet?”

Harry shook his head, completely alert now. “Not at all. Every time I open it, it screams.” He wiggled his ears for effect.

Cedric chuckled. “Cute,” he said grinning. “Well, I figured it out. You put it under the water and open it.”

Harry was shocked. “Water?”

“Yes,” he answered. “Take a bath with it. In fact… why don’t you use the Prefect’s Bathroom. You know where it’s at?”

Harry had the Marauder’s Map. He nodded. “I’ve walked by it.”

“Good, the password is Pine Fresh. No one’s there at night and Filch can’t get in.”

Harry nodded. “Thanks Cedric.” He turned to go, but he was stopped again.

“You still unavailable?” Cedric asked casually.

Harry smiled. “Yes, Cedric, I am.”

He looked curious. “Why?”

How does one answer that? “Because I am?” He shrugged, telling Cedric he really didn’t know.

The blonde smiled. “You have a nice heart, Harry, even if people don’t deserve it.”

“Bye Cedric. I think Cho wants to go with you,” he then tipped off before heading off. He hoped no one else stopped him.

Things could not be getting anymore complicated.


XxX

Harry didn’t know why he was here. He had transfigured an uncomfortable school chair into a loveseat, after Hermione ground the enchantment into his head long enough and had a conjured table. His egg was on top and he was glaring at it and wondering what Cedric meant.

He was trying to finish his Potion’s Essay when the door opened. He didn’t look up from his cross-legged position and continued writing until the shadow consumed him completely.

Marcus Flint glared at him. “What did Diggory want?”

Harry tapped his quill against his egg. “I tipped him off about the dragons and he tipped me off about the egg.”

He didn’t seem to understand. Harry placed the quill down and smirked. “Ready to hide your ears…” The second he opened it, it started wailing like a banshee. Marcus hissed and clasped his hands over his ears. “Exactly.” He closed it again.

“What the fuck is that?”

“Not sure yet, Cedric gave me a weird bit of advice. I have to take it before I know,” he explained softly before going back to his essay.

Marcus took a seat next to him and started staring. The silence was thick enough that a sharp knife would have trouble cutting it.

After about fifteen minutes of this, Marcus’ hand began to card through his hair. Harry smiled wistfully at the touch; it made him shiver when those fingers grazed against his neck.

Harry put his quill down and shifted to look at Marcus, who advanced on him, smashing their lips together in a needy erotic kiss.

“Teach me,” Marcus said pulling back fractionally.

“After you make it up to me,” Harry purred sliding into his lap and straddling him.

Marcus grinned at this and gripped Harry close and started kissing him again, while his hands began to move. Harry was already unbuttoning the shirt to his school uniform. He nibbled the Slytherin’s bottom lip and was kissed deeper for it.

A hungry sort of feeling rushed over Harry as he innocently ground himself against Marcus. His mouth slid from Marcus’ lips to his neck and began to lick and bite down as he wished.

He got hisses and quiet groans of desire, which made Harry smile inwardly as he flicked his tongue across the sensitive nipple and then nibbled him slightly hard, making him hiss out before Harry’s gentle licks resumed all the way down his hard stomach. Harry roamed and devoured him. He was still learning a lot and there was still a bunch he didn’t know; he usually allowed his instincts to carry him.

They lay there together on the couch, kissing and touching, fingers working their way around sensitive areas before going further.

To Harry everything was still complicated.


Racey days
Help me through the hopeless haze
But my oh my
Tragic eyes
I can't even recognize myself behind
So if the answer is no
Can I change your mind?