Dream a Little Dream
One-Shot
Written by: chochowilliams
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the characters, places or names. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Summary: Harry loves his kids. He really does. He would do anything for them. But they drive him up the wall, so he is grateful to have a few hours to himself…That is until he gets visited by a certain curtained blond-haired teen.
Warning: AU, Post-Hogwarts, Partially-Epilogue Compliant, Underage, Male Slash, Oral, Hand job, Language, Not Brit-Picked
Pairings: Harry Potter/Scorpius Malfoy, past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Inserts:"Temptation" by Destiny's Child
A/N: In this story, Harry is widowed—Ginny having died (for whatever reason) when Lily was a baby. Enjoy and don't forget to review.
oOo
I know you see me watchin' you
And I see you watchin' me
'Cuz boy your body's callin'
Temptation is killin' me
-"Temptation" by Destiny's Child
oOo
The Potter household was blissfully quiet. It was the first time since his children came home for the summer holiday. Even night was filled with a cacophony of sounds. There was no doubt that Harry loved his kids. He would do anything for them. When they were away at school, he missed them like crazy. But they drove him crazy when they were home. So for all three of them to be out of the house at the same time was a welcome change and it had only been a fortnight since the school year ended.
James, who come September first would be a seventh year—and didn't that make him feel old—had a summer internship at St. Mungo's under Healer Avalon Smith. Harry had always believed his eldest son would follow in his footsteps and become an Auror. Either that or play professional quidditch. What nobody had expected was for James to go into the medical field. James even wanted to study muggle medicine.
Albus, who was going to be a fifth year come next term, had no real aspirations yet, but was obsessed with quidditch as well as muggle basketball. At the moment, Albus was at the park playing some one-on-one with Scorpius Malfoy, his best friend—and hadn't that been a kick to the head.
As for his baby girl, Lily would be a third year in less than two months and was adamant that she would be the World's Greatest Quidditch Player. Like James, she had a summer job. She would have liked to work with the British Quidditch League, but the summer was the off season, so, instead-and without any help from him—she managed to secure an internship at the Ministry in the Department of Magical Game and Sports.
Harry was so proud of all his children.
He was also grateful to them for giving him a few hours to himself. September could not get here fast enough.
With a yawn, Harry settled back on the recliner and closed his eyes.
What felt like mere moments later, the slamming of the front door jolted him awake. He was on his feet with his wand in his hand before he fully processed what was happening only to blink at the sight of his son's best friend. "Scorpius?"
"Sorry if I startled you, sir."
Exhaling in relief, Harry brushed the apology aside with a shake of his head as his heart rate returned to normal. "It's fine," he said as he holstered his wand. "Where's Albus?" he asked fifteen year old Scorpius Malfoy as he sat back down.
"At the park," Scorpius answered. There was a strange look in the boy's eye that was making Harry uncomfortable. It was almost as if Scorpius was a dying man in a desert. "I was growing tired, but he wanted to keep playing."
"Sounds like him," Harry said in amusement. It was a welcome distraction from the urge to fidget under that Look. "It used to take us hours to get Al to come inside when he was little."
"It still does."
Harry laughed. "True!"
His laughter choked to a stop when he realized that Scorpius was suddenly standing within arm's reach. Harry shifted his gaze to the spot across the living room where the boy had been standing a mere moment ago. When had he-?
"Is it okay for me to wait here until he comes back?" Scorpius asked a little shyly.
His mouth dry and his stomach aflutter, Harry could do nothing more than inhale sharply-ignoring how his face grew warm and his groin twitched at the sight of the timid behavior-and nod. And he had no idea why! For some bewildering reason, this kid was making him feel like a schoolboy being confronted by his first crush. It was ridiculous! He was thirty-five years old. He did not do crushes, and even if he did, he would not have one on a kid half his age.
"Sure," Harry finally managed to say. He was mortified by the sound of his voice cracking as if he were going through puberty. What the hell was wrong with him?
Scorpius' face broke out in a grin. Those husky blue eyes that glowed against his usually pale complexion that had been tanned to a golden hue flashed with a look that Harry knew all too well. It was a look that said, "Mine". There was no hesitation. Just absolute certainty. Under that strong look of possession, Harry felt his jeans grow tight ad uncomfortable. He shifted in an effort to relieve the pressure. It did not work.
Scorpius flashed him a knowing grin.
Biting the inside of his lip, Harry glanced away from the boy, horrified as his blush deepened. He most likely resembled a boiled lobster by now.
The next thing he knew, hands were on him prying his knees apart. He jumped, startled, and whipped his head around. Frozen in the recliner, his eyes bugging out of his head, Harry's heart just about stopped. His breath become lodged in his throat. All thought fled his mind. Kneeling between Harry's splayed legs was none other than Scorpius Malfoy.
When had Scorpius moved? Again, Harry had missed it! How was that possible? Despite the prevailing theory among many in the British Wizarding world, including those in his own department, he was more than just a figure head. He had not been made the Head Auror just because he was who he was. He had earned this position the same way every other Head Auror had before him and would after he retired. Therefore, he should not have missed Scorpius' trek across the living room.
Harry's hands had a death grip on the arms of the chair. They refused to let go no matter how loud his mind screamed at them to push the boy away.
He watched with a mixture of emotions as the son of his schoolboy rival reached out and oh so slowly lowered the zipper of his jeans. The sound was loud in the silence of the house. It competed with the fierce beating of his heart and his ragged breathing.
What the hell was going on?
Harry's breath hitched as the button of his jeans popped open. The only barrier stopping his erection from springing forth was his underwear.
Scorpius lifted his gaze to peer through his blond fringe at Harry.
Immediately, Harry found himself lost within those unnaturally blue orbs. They were intense and heated and seemed to be peering straight through into his soul.
His breathing sped up as Scorpius pushed open the flaps of the fly of his jeans.
This had gone too far.
Harry opened his mouth to tell Scorpius this could not happen, but instead a loud moan escaped as Scorpius shoved his hand inside Harry's pants. Scorpius massaged Harry's clothed erection, sending thrills of pleasure racing up Harry's spine.
"Oh shit!"
"Like that?"
"Ah," Harry stuttered with a shudder as Scorpius' husky voice whispered over his throbbing erection. Harry was not sure how it was even possible, but he grew harder.
Why was he allowing this? This was wrong. So, so wrong. There was an infinite number of reason why this should not be allowed to continue, but each one was forgotten the moment Scorpius's hand wrangled its way into Harry's underwear and wrapped around his dick.
"Oh fuck," he cried out with a thrust of his hips into the foreign yet strangely familiar grip.
Then when a wet heat engulfed him, Harry tossed his head back and swore up to the heavens.
Then it was all gone.
Harry shot up with a mighty gasp. Panting, his heart feeling as if it were on the verge of exploding, he shot his wild eyed gaze about the living room.
He was lounging in the brown leather recliner—that he had placed in an infinite state of dibs—before the cold hearth of the fireplace. Hanging above the mantel was the last family photograph they had taken before Ginny passed away. Lily had been a baby. He took in the array of rainbow colored throw pillows on the sofa, the bouquet of white roses in the glass vase on the console table behind the sofa and the art book open to a colorful landscape painting by a muggle Norwegian painter on the coffee table. Directly across the room from him on the table under the picture window that overlooked the front yard was an antique mantel clock. Then there was the built-in bookcases on either side of the fireplace and the display case against the back wall that held an array of awards and antiques collected by the entire family.
He was alone.
A dream. It had all been a dream.
"Oh thank Merlin," he sighed as he flopped bonelessly into the recliner. Harry decided to ignore the lack of relief at this realization and instead focus on the wet, sticky feeling in his pants. He grimaced.
A flick of his wrist and his wand was in his hand.
Was he that hard up that his first wet dream in more years than he cared to admit would star his fifteen year old son's best friend? Yes, Scorpius was sexy as hell with his tones abs and perky ass, but he was still a mere boy.
He lifted his wand, Scourify on his lips, when an unexpected voice broke the uncomfortable silence of the house.
"Hey, Mr. Potter."
Startled, Harry gasped—he would deny the yelp that slipped passed his lips—and fumbled with his wand. "H-hey, Scorpius," he stuttered. At the sight of the star of his wet dream, the evidence of which was staining the front of his jeans, Harry blushed.
"Dad can we have burgers for dinner tonight?" Albus asked as he strolled into the house behind Scorpius tossing his basketball from hand to hand.
"Sure," Harry answered over-enthusiastically.
"Cool!"
Albus did not so much as slow down or offer his father a brief glance. He made a beeline from the front door, through the foyer to the staircase. His heavy footsteps thundered through the house.
Harry swung his gaze back to Scorpius who had remained behind and was gazing at Harry with the same strange look in his eye that he'd had in his dream. But that was ridiculous…right? Harry shuddered and it was not from disgust. His gaze caught sight of a droplet of sweat that rolled down the boy's—he had to remember that term "boy" when in regards to Scorpius for that was what he was—chest where it vanished beneath his sleeveless baggy shirt. He licks lips gone dry and then exhaled a shaky breath.
With more difficulty than he cared to admit, Harry tore his gaze from the sinful temptation that this boy was.
"Looking good there, Mr. Potter," Scorpius winked at him saucily, a knowing look in those unnatural eyes and a smirk on those full luscious lips before he turned and followed Albus up the stairs with an exaggerated swing of his butt.
"Oh god," Harry moaned once Scorpius was out of sight. He collapsed back onto the armchair.
That boy would be death of him.
…The End