Literature, Smut, and Adult Themes

On with the story! We resume in Chapter 6...you’ll be able to guess the context.


Emboldened by Harry’s success, the rest of the class climbed cautiously into the paddock. Hagrid untied the Hippogriffs one by one, and soon people were bowing nervously, all over the paddock. Neville ran repeatedly backwards from his, which didn’t seem to want to bend its knees. Ron and Hermione practiced on the chestnut, while Harry watched.

Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle had taken over Buckbeak. He had bowed to Malfoy, who was now patting his beak, looking disdainful.

“This is very easy,” Malfoy said, loud enough for Harry to hear him – he needed Harry to know that he too could master beasts. “I knew it must have been, if Potter could do it ... I bet you’re not dangerous at all, are you?” he said to the Hippogriff. “Are you, you ugly great brute?”

It happened in a flash of steely talons; Malfoy let out a high-pitched scream, and next moment, Hagrid was wrestling Buckbeak back into his collar as he strained to get at Malfoy, who lay curled in the grass, blood blossoming over his robes.

Harry rushed over to Draco, moreso out of his instinct to help rather than because of his conscious desires. The rest of the class was too shocked to do anything.

There were tears dripping from Draco’s closed eyes, and Harry couldn’t help but feel sorry for him...watching him writhe in pain caused a great lump in Harry’s throat. Not really thinking, he put a hand on either side of the wound, applying pressure – it wasn’t too deep, but it had definitely hit severely.

Flowing blood impartially embraced Draco’s arm, and some of it flowed onto Harry’s hands – he couldn’t give a damn, though, because he had to help; Hagrid was having one hell of a time with Buckbeak, and the class was silent.

“You’ll be okay, m-Malfoy,” Harry murmured; for some reason, his eyes were now taking in Draco’s lithe torso, and a hint of an erection formed in his pants. He was no longer focused on the wounded Draco as much as the ... very good looking, spread-eagle-and-on-display Draco.

“H-help m-m-me...Potter,” Draco moaned through another onset of tears; this finally snapped Harry back to reality, and his erection died. Harry was just about to grab his wand when Draco shouted,

“I’m dying!” he yelled, as the class continued to panic. “I’m dying, look at me! It’s killed me!”

“Yer not dyin’!” said Hagrid, who had gone very white. “Someone help me – gotta get him outta here”

Hermione ran to open the gate while Hagrid lifted Malfoy easily, leaving Harry alone on the bloody grass. As they walked, Harry fully saw the long, deep gash in Malfoy’s arm; blood splattered again onto the grass and Hagrid ran with him up the slope towards the castle.

Very shaken, the Care of Magical Creatures class followed at a walk. The Slytherins were all shouting about Hagrid.


...moving forwards ...

Hagrid strode over to Harry, grabbed his arm and pulled him to the door.

“C’mon!” Hagrid said angrily. “I’m takin’ yer all back up ter school, an’ don’ let me catch yeh walkin’ down ter see me after dark again. I’m not worth that!”

The march back was awful, and it was made in silence. No one wanted to talk with each other, and when they got up to bed, Harry and Ron said a fleeting goodnight to Hermione and then to one another before climbing into their own beds. Ron was quick to fall asleep, but Harry’s mind was racing. He had to see if Draco was alright.

Donning his invisibility cloak, he silently slipped out of the Gryffindor tower and within five minutes he was at the Hospital Wing. It was only 9:00 at night, so the doors were still open for visitors. He proceeded ahead, careful to make sure his steps could not be heard.

The door to Madam Pomfrey’s office was closed, and there was only one occupant in the Wing: Draco Malfoy. However, he had a visitor – Harry immediately knew her to be Pansy Parkinson, and he could tell from her voice that she wasn’t happy.

Harry moved closer to see Draco, lying on his side, his back to Pansy. His face betrayed his emotions at the time, for a tear had made its course down the side of one of his cheeks, and his lip quivered.

“Look at me, Drakey...” she said through a choked voice, “You won’t look at me anymore...or talk to me...”

Draco mumbled something along the lines of ‘Fuck Off’, but she didn’t show any sign that she had heard it.

“Just go away,” he said a bit louder.

“But Draco...” Pansy whispered, putting a hand on Draco’s shoulder.

“NO!” he yelled loudly. “Stop fucking around and get out. I don’t like; never did, never will!”

“You don’t mean that,” Pansy stood up.

“I do!” Draco returned to a quiet voice.

The air was silent for a minute or two, save for one or two sobs from Pansy.

“Good night!” She said in a malicious voice as she stomped out of the room.

After she was gone, Draco whispered, “I can’t like you.”

Harry’s jaw dropped – what did he mean? He stood still, gazing at Draco – he was shirtless so that his bandages could be open to the air; Harry was mesmerized by the boy’s soft, perfectly sculpted ivory skin. He went from 0 to HARD in a millisecond, and he reached one hand down to wrap around his shaft.

However, Harry could not continue, because Draco broke out into open sobs at this point. He mumbled incoherently, but Harry heard five words quite clearly:

“But I can’t like Potter!”

Harry bolted, doing his best to maintain speed and yet keep under his cloak. As soon as he got to his bed, he jumped in, wrapped himself in his covers, and grew hard again. However, he fought the urge to wank – for some reason, Draco’s admission had been more pure than any sexual fantasy that Harry had been able to think up.

He went to bed a very confused boy.



I think this marks the beginning of the Adult Themes plot...but that doesn’t mean that the smut and literature will disappear...on the contrary!
Would love to know what you think!