Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the following is a story from my own imagination that I wish to share with all the good people of the world, and is not making me any profit in anyway whatsoever.
Author's note: This is a story that will contain a male and male relationship possibly more then one, so if that upsets you don't read. This work contains mild violence some profanity and mildly graphic scenes so I dub it an M rating if you didn't notice. If such graphicness offends once again you have been warned and it is not too late to click back.
Feedback is always appreciated so please leave reviews not only to motivate me but to make me a better author constructive criticism is more then welcome.
Chapter One: G'Mornin' Vince
Practically tumbling out of his bed Vincent Crabbe came into awareness pulling out of an abhorrent dream. The dream itself was already diminishing into whatever recess of the mind that held such unpleasantries. For a long time, seemed like ages, Vincent lay paralyzed on his stomach fighting off the sleep that promised to return him back to the dreamscape from which he had escaped. It took all of his will power to roll onto his back, finally breaking from the threatening shackles of sleep.
Warily raising his arm he took a glimpse at his wrist watch; there were no glowing numbers to indicate the hour, instead there was one hand with his name glowing a shining silver which pointed at whatever he was supposed to be doing. The fragile arm bearing his namesake pointed up to where the muggle twelve would have been, replacing it was the word "Bed" in a luminescent green. The watch had been a birthday present from his parents, a kind of way to control their child even when miles away at Hogwarts. For the most part it worked Vincent checked it periodically throughout the day whenever at a loss of what he was supposed to be doing, but after the awful dream he'd just escaped sleep was the last activity he wanted to participate in.
Sitting up and resting his back against the headboard of the bed Vincent tired to recollect what had been so disquieting about his dream. Gregory had been in it, he was certain of that; and they were running away from something...a monster? That seemed a little childish, either way that wasn't what had made the dream so disturbing. No, what got to him was that in the dream his leg had been lame and despite all of his calling, his pleading for Gregory to return to his aid; Gregory had ignored all his pleas. Vincent tired to remember more but it was fruitless even what he remembered was dissipating into dark recesses as he sat awake.
The dorm room was dark, there was a single giant window in the room but one could never accurately gage the time because the view was of the underwater landscape of the lake. It was a brilliant sight starting about midday till dusk when the sun was blazing its light down on Hogwarts; all other times it varied from a dark murky moss color to pitch black. Back when Hogwarts was still young the Slytherin's complained that the lack of light was the cause of a lot of unnecessary night time injuries. Eventually the Charms Professor erected up torches supporting levitating spheres of light that caster a dim luminescent glow at night. The spheres provided enough light so that the unnecessary night accidents came to a halt but were soft enough that the students who needed absolute darkness to sleep were not disturbed.
Eyes finally adjusted to the low level light Vincent surveyed the room, all of his room mates were still slumbering comfortably; when his glaze came upon Gregory's bed it rested there. Normally Gregory slept with his covers below his waist with his bare chest exposed. There were many a night when Vincent had pretended to sleep waiting untill all of his mates had fallen asleep so that he could perv off of Gregory's pasty pale chest. Right then though Gregory had the covers over his head looking suspiciously like a lumpy mountain range. Vincent sighed, wha s'up with Greg? He don't ever cover up, not even durin' winter time, he'd been hoping to get in the view of Gregory's naked chest but with him all covered up it was not an option. Guess I'll go hit the showers while no other blokes are in there.
Vincent slept more covered then Gregory; sporting a wife beater, his prized black boxer-briefs with the toxic green waist band, and socks. He swung his legs out from under the covers over the edge of the bed, the chilled air of the dormitory in the morning hours causing his exposed skin to erupt in goose flesh. The journey to and from the showers always bothered Vincent, he couldn't wear his shoes or socks because he somehow managed to get them wet no matter what elaborate precautions he took. Once he tried to get fancy and placed a water repellent spell on his boots but in the end he screwed up the the spell and instead of repelling water his boots absorbed water. He had to walk around in squishy boots for a week before his parents sent him a new pair. The 'flip-flopping' sound of flip-flops drove him mad, every year when Vincent received a new pair he would quickly dispose of them by ritualistically throwing them off the train while over some bridge. He had since then given up and walked barefoot to the communal showers, Vincent peeled off his socks and stepped on the ice like stone floor.
He grabbed his bath robe off the top of his footlocker and draped himself fending off some of the chill. The communal showers were located on an off shoot hallway located in-between the passage that connected the common room to the guys dormitories. There were two main shower rooms, one for the lower years one through four and the other for the higher years five through seven. Vincent had hoped that the showers would get better in his fifth year, boy was he sorely disappointed on the morning of the second day of school when he went to take a shower. The old shower room had afforded some privacy having individual stalls along with open stalls. The new shower rooms had four shower blocks, each opening in to the other, each block made for up to five guys to shower together.
Vincent, abhorred by the openness of the new bathing situation, often found himself in the corner hoping that his manhood wouldn't betray him by hardening at the sight of his fellow blokes in nothing but their birthday suits. To prevent this monumental problem form occurring Vincent would try and shower at irregular hours, problem with that was Gregory had a tendency of making them shower together. Gregory didn't really do anything to force them to shower together he just asked Vincent if he wanted to shower in the morning, and Vincent just had trouble saying 'no' to his best friend, even more so when it involved seeing him naked despite the tragedy that would ensue if Gregory realized that Vincent ogled him when he wasn't paying attention.
The walk to the shower room was eventless, Vincent's assumption that all his peers would still be snoozing was correct. The shower room was a cavernous room separated into four even compartments, each compartment bearing five shower heads each. The entrance a fifth compartment smaller then the other four but fully equipped with benches for dressing and personalized lockers, gold name plates and all. Vincent sat on the ledge of the bench in front of his locker, he withdrew his wand tapped his name plate three times unlocking his towel and other toiletries. He looked around one more time to be sure that nobody was around then he stripped bare. He took only his towel that probably needed a good wash and his all on one shampoo and conditioner; leaving behind his wand, clothing, and bathrobe uncomfortably stuffed within the confides of his locker. Do I need my wand? The thought quickly passed no one need their wand in the shower, and his locker wouldn't relock until he tapped it three times again.
The tiled floor of the shower rooms never failed to surprise Vincent, the tiles were always a pleasant temperature no matter what the whether was like anywhere else. His feet padded softly upon the tiled floor but the bad acoustics in the room caused the padding to sound more like an ominous drumming sequence in Vincent's ears, the noise level was bad when the showers were full but it seemed even more amplified when it was deserted. Even with the showers deserted Vincent went to his usual shower head in the back most compartment in the least noticeable corner in his opinion, prepared in case someone else decided to pop in for an early morning shower. His hand closed around the Hot knob ready to turn it when he heard the clear sounds of heavy foot falls behind him. He had little fear of any foul play for he was the right hand of Draco Malfoy; once he turned around whomever it was that was planning a dehumanizing prank would stop in their tracks. No body in Slytherin was dull enough to harm Vincent Crabbe. He wasn't keen on the idea of facing someone without clothes covering him but he couldn't risk getting pranked, he was in the process of an about-face when to his dismay he heard a curse uttered, undoubtedly meant for him.
"Petrificus totalus."
Colliding with the small of his back Vincent felt the instantaneous locking of his whole body; his arm's slammed against his torso and his legs to slap together like Lego pieces meant for one another. Unable to retain balance he fell forward, face smashing into the slightly moist warm floor. Blood poured from his nose, argh! Someone's gonna get it ten times worse when I break free. Vincent was livid that someone would actually have the gall to make him bleed and humiliate him. Just you wait, when I tell Greg and Draco about this you'll be stuck in Madam Pomfrey's office for weeks. Minutes passed with the only sound being Vincent's agitated breathing, nothing to indicate that the attacker was still around. Worry summed a sheen coat of sweat on Vincent's naked body, what if the attacker did not show his face so that Vincent would not be able to target him later, it would be the smart thing to do. Most of the boys in Slytherin knew better then to mess with him but that by no means meant that they were obliged to help him out of his compromising situation.
More time passed bringing the unmanly urge to cry tugging at Vincent's will. It would probably be another two or three hours before Gregory dragged himself out of bed, and Draco no longer used the communal showers ever since he received the honor of becoming a Prefect. Something stick like prodded at his backside, the perpetrator was still in the room and had the balls to further humiliate him. The urge to shed tears was quickly replaced by a malevolent rage, even knowing the futility of trying to physically break free of the body bind; Vincent tried with all his will to break free. He wasn't sure, for there was no way that he could check, but he felt that his nose had stopped spewing out blood.
The stick like object, obviously a wand, stopped its prodding of his backside and was promptly replaced by something more rotund, kicking under the right side of his pelvis. Bastard is kicking me, putting his dirty shoes on me. The perp put a forceful amount of pressure digging under his pelvis and in an amazing feat strength kicked upward flipping Vincent onto his back. The back of his head bashing against the tiled floor almost knocking him out, sonavahbitch! Vision temporarily blurred Vincent could only make out a lumbering giant looming over him, names of all the possible house mates rushed though his throbbing head. Before his vision fully cleared the perp spoke giving away his identity.
"G'mornin' Vince." A fake pleasantry from a horridly familiar voice.
Greg? Vincent wanted to believe it false, even shutting his eyes against the clearing sight. But there was no one else it could be, no one else called him 'Vince' not even Draco.
"Com'on and open your eyes Vince, I know you've been dying ta know who would have the balls to attack the all mighty 'Vincent Crabbe.'" Gregory's tone full of condescending malice.
Vincent kept his eyes closed he refused to believe that Gregory Goyle, his bestest friend in the whole wide world would turn on him.
Gregory kicked Vincent's side rather hard, "Open up your eyes Vince!"
Vincent kept his eyes closed, a few tears from the pain of getting kicked escaped though his tightly shut eye lids. It is key to note that the tears were in no way linked to any emotions of sadness or despair, his mind still would not accept that Gregory Goyle was the perp.
"I'll give you a choice, since you are my main chum. You can open your eyes all by yourself like a big boy or I'll open them for you with the cruciatus curse."
Whoever this jerk is, he sounds like he means serious business. Upon opening his eyes Vincent's vision was plagued with black spots and fragmented sparkles. Slowly the spots and sparkles cleared up and the vision thought impossible by Vincent came into realization. Gregory stood perched over Vincent like a gargoyle ready to prey upon an intruder. Polyjuice potion... The thought held little consolation for Vincent, it was a false hope and he was well aware of it. There was no doubt in his mind that the boy tormenting was indeed Gregory Goyle.