Title: Fantasies of Flight (1/?)
Author: Fortuna Major
Rating: PG-13ish? (for now)
Pairings: Harry/Ron, Harry/Draco (eventually), implied Neville/Percy/handcuffs, others may appear
Warnings: Slash! yes, slash. that means male/male relationships. if this squicks you, then make use of that back button up there.
Summary: A dream is a wish your heart makes, so let your imagination take flight.
Feedback: That's what the little box down there is for ^.^ Or you can e-mail me at the address below.
Archive: HPSA, anywhere else, ask and ye shall receive.
Disclaimer: I wish they were mine, but alas, they are not. They belong to Her Royal Writeness Joanne Rowling. ::sigh:: We can all wish, ne?
Notes: I have *no* idea where this one is going. Any suggestions will be welcomed with open arms. ^^ BTW, sorry if another fic has this same title.. it's highly possible, as it seems familiar.. somehow.. On with the fic!

**

Zooming towards the green blur. Closer, closer, he is upon him. Mass of silky platinum blowing in the wind. Slowing, nearing, stopping. Face to face, inching closer. Hot breath on his face, soft lips on his own. Pale arms wrapping around his back. A whistle, the roar of a crowd, distant sounds. Warmth spreading through him. Hardness pressing against the hard broom. Desperate scrabbling, descending, closer, closer, closer...

Harry sat up in his bed, drenched in sweat. His arousal pressed into his leg, reminding of his dream. Or was it a nightmare? He took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to release the memory. Harry glanced through the slit in the curtains to the bed beside his. He could just make out the dark form of his sleeping lover, a tousle of flame marking where his head lay.

Harry allowed himself a small sigh of relief. Whatever had occurred, it had not been enough to wake the redhead. Listening harder, Harry took note of the silence that had descended upon the Gryffindor dorm. Neville's omnipresent snores were absent.

Lowering his stocking feet to the floor, Harry gradually transferred his weight out of his bed, but the bed squeaked nevertheless. He cursed the old wood silently for the thousandth time before standing. After slipping his glasses over his nose, he tiptoed silently across the room, noting the drawn curtains of Neville's bed.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Harry gently drew the bed curtains apart. He poked his head inside, and grinned. There lay Neville, wrapped in the arms of Percy Weasley. Harry had not known Ron's brother was visiting, but this was no surprise. Percy often visited secretly to be with Neville. He was the only one who could stop Neville's incessant snores. He noted absently that their arms were handcuffed together.

Harry slowly withdrew his head, and headed back towards his own bed. Setting his mind free, his thoughts returned immediately to the dream. He shook his head, which seemed to offer a small relief. Crawling under the scarlet covers, Harry tried to make himself comfortable in the sweat-soaked bed. Cursing all things of cold metal, he pulled his glasses roughly off the bridge of his nose and flung them upon the nightstand and heard the clatter of metal upon wood. Harry sighed, and resolved to look for them first thing in the morning. He tossed uncomfortably for what seemed like hours before finally drifting off to sleep.

Broomstick in his tight grip. Heading towards the broomshed. Light under the door, creaking hinges. Easing open the door, stepping inside. Pale eyes reflected in wandlight...

**

TBC

Fortuna Major
merlayne@msn.com

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