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Meddling in Memories

UchidaKarasu

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Harry Potter always knew that meddling in things that he didn't belong in would eventually come up to bite him in the arse.

Pensives were dangerous things in their own, and most people didn't want much to do with them because of their unfailing ability to freak some people out. Memories that belonged to another person shouldn't really be thrown into yet another person's head. Whether it was something like seeing something that one really didn't want or need to see, something that could scar for life, or something that was enough to bring down people or even governments, memories that belonged to a person could damage the mind of another.

Therefore, most people wouldn't go anywhere near a Pensive, unless they either had no other choice or were spies. Only if it was necessary would someone dwell in the thoughts of another, because it was dangerous and in a way sort-of unnatural.

Yet, Harry wasn't a spy and he sure as hell wasn't being forced to witness a memory. And Harry had been going through more trouble than he cared for at the moment, with a war being centred around him and all. He was a Sixth Year student, so he was going through his N.E.W.T. exams. He had to deal with Malfoy running around acting all suspicious, and Snape being the goddamned Defence against the Dark Arts teacher and making his schooling a living hell, and he was being targeted by a huge group of psychotic murderers and a powerful Dark wizard.

So he had no reason to be in front of Professor Albus Dumbledore's Pensive when said wizard wasn't present in the room. He was currently waiting for Dumbledore to show up so he could begin his next viewing of the memories of Tom Riddle, but the man was late for once, and so Harry found himself studying the basin that held the luminescent, pearly substance that swirled around. It was absolutely beautiful, almost mesmerising, and Harry knew that he should probably stay away from it. It didn't do to accidently see something that he didn't need to see. The amount of memories that Dumbledore possessed in his numerous years was probably enough to fry most brains, especially since the man was a brilliant genius and would confuse most people who thought to look in his head.

But something was swirling around in there, and he seen glimpses of some man, blond and in a way quite handsome although frowning heavily, and without thinking—one of Harry's more dim-witted traits—he leaned closer to see exactly who this man was, for his face was foreign to the emerald eyed wizard.

And he found himself thrown into the memory, even though he had a feeling in the back of his mind that it was going to end up very badly.

The first thing that he noticed was that he was in some sort-of small interior room. The room was entirely wood, a deep chocolate cherry that Harry's dormitory in the Gryffindor tower was made up of. He could tell that it was only in the slightest disrepair from being uninhabited by animals and humans alike, probably the result of some pressure sealing charm, and the wooden walls and floors were in relatively good shape. It wasn't adorned with useless trinkets except for a rough-looking chair in the upper left hand corner, due to abandonment, and nothing gave evidence that anyone was staying here for any period of time. A small ball of flame, much like the one that Hermione used in the cold months outside for warmth and light, hung in suspension in the centre of the room, towards the ceiling. It radiated a warm, fiery illumination across everything and everyone, including the two dark figures leaning against the farthest wall closest to the beaten-down chair.

One was the blond man. He was definitely handsome now that Harry was looking at him without the constant blur of other pearly memories, and even though Harry was dating Ginny Weasley and had never been much attracted to men before, he knew that if he had been homosexual he probably would've been attracted to the man. He had deep blue eyes, like the deepest of seas, and blond hair that could rival the sun. His skin was a deep gold, the tanned flesh bright and almost red with the glow of the fire. He had full lips, almost like a woman's really, that were blood red and pouty, mockingly kissable as they were turned down in a frown. His face was alight with mischievousness, almost diabolical, and even though his merry features were set in a disappointed air, his face still looked identical to Fred and George Weasley when they had accomplished something absolutely wicked. He stood against the wall proudly, despite being along the short side and stocky, not exactly blocky but strong. Harry could approximate his age to being around sixteen or seventeen, roughly Harry's own age, and maybe a centimetre or two taller than the emerald eyed observer, who was an even 167 centimetres tall.

The other figure was much taller and thinner than the blond man, easily towering over his companion. Unlike the mysterious handsome blonde, however, Harry could tell instantly whom this man was. His hair was shoulder-length and auburn instead of waist-length and silver, his face was devoid of the long white beard that he would eventually grow, his lightly tanned skin was free of the wrinkled depths that he would sport later on in life, and his nose was decidedly less crooked from being broken, but he still had the same sparkling, bright blue eyes that Harry remembered. In fact, Harry remembered them quite well as he had seen them only around two hours ago, at the evening feast in the Great Hall back in his own life. And even if Albus Dumbledore was around the same age as Harry and maybe a bit shorter than what he would grow into, he was still Harry's headmaster and a dear friend regardless of whether he was wrinkled and aged with his century of life or a vibrant young man.

Dumbledore's eyes were not twinkling with amusement or cherry disposition like Harry was used to, however, and as those turquoise orbs focussed intently on the blond man standing next to him, his eyes were sharp and concerned. His own lips had been set in a frown, his arms crossed in front of his chest as he faced his blond companion with a sternness that Harry wasn't used to seeing. Obviously, this Albus Dumbledore was displeased about something, that something having to do with the slightly annoyed blond who looked like he was amused at some sort-of inside joke that Dumbledore was completely oblivious to.

When Dumbledore spoke, it wasn't as wise and merry as it would be in the future, but instead deep with implication and very rich. Harry almost was lost in the sound of his voice, and had to force himself to absorb the words that his headmaster's past self was speaking: "Gellert, this is madness. You have no idea what this could do to our plans! Do you want to ruin it all before it actually happens? What greater good will there be if you're arrested or dead, hm?"

The blond man that had been identified as Gellert rolled his sapphire eyes and replied in a drawling voice that reminded Harry of Draco Malfoy, "Allie, think about it. If we find the Elder Wand, we'll be so much closer to actually having the Hallows! This is a great lead, and since we don't know where the other two of them are, we should get a move on the Wand! It's the most powerful by far, and you know it. If we go to Germany and find it, there might be a way to reverse the magic to lead us to the others!"

Dumbledore, who had been leaning against the wall on his right side, took a step closer to Gellert, straightening up to his full height and looking downward at his blond companion. "Gellert, it's in Germany, in an area that requires you to stroll through Muggle Germany, and it's Berlin during a damned World War. If you go walking down the street, your going to be gunned down or worse, and you can't use magic to shield yourself or you'll be revealing yourself to Muggles and will be arrested on the grounds of improper use of magic. You know the rules! And besides, we're not even sure if it's there, so I think that it's too big of a risk for you to attempt."

"Allie, there are Muggle repellant charms; you know this. All I'll need is one."

Dumbledore shook his head immediately. "It's open warfare, Gellert. Don't be foolish. You know that you would still have to use a shield to keep yourself from being riddled with those bullets of theirs, and then they'll see and you'll be arrested. Trust me on this, and don't do it until we're one hundred per-cent sure that there's nothing to doubt!"

"Allie, I want to do this now. I need to do this now. I have to get that wand, for the greater good, and if we don't move now, we might never get the chance again. I want this, so badly, so don't go all martyr on me now!"

For a minute, the two stared at each other, both wearing frowns. Dumbledore looked desperate and conflicted, and as Gellert stood watching the future headmaster with that unreadable expression, those sapphire eyes flickered downwards once to something in-between them for a split second before a wide, cunning smile widened on his lips. Harry couldn't see what had caused the reaction, for there was nothing between them, but Dumbledore's cheeks flushed slightly in the firelight and Harry frowned. Something was going on here, and while he was completely confused on what the conversation was about, he had a feeling that he wouldn't be finding anything out about it anytime soon.

Gellert took a step forward until he was mere centimetres away from the young Dumbledore, and his smile turned to a wicked grin, before he said slowly and almost seductively, "Oh, look at you Allie. You are so good, you know that? As much as you want to convince yourself that you're right, I can tell what's really on your mind. I'll tell you what; you give me what I want, and I'll give you what you want. And I know you want it, for I can see it..."

Dumbledore swallowed thickly, his eyes clouded, and very quickly, Harry realised that he was going to see something that he definitely shouldn't be seeing.

The blond named Gellert suddenly reached out with his right hand and grasped the fabric covering Dumbledore's most private of areas, and the future headmaster shakily sighed in pleasure when the fingers cleverly began stroking through the fabric of his trousers. "I know you want it," whispered the blond, taking the final step and plastering himself against Dumbledore's tall frame, his fingers still working slowly over the growing bulge. "Give me what I want, and I'll make it worth your while. I'll make you scream my name, Albus Dumbledore, in pleasure that you know only I can give. Give me what I want, and I'll do anything you want me to do."

Harry was shocked into paralysis, not able to take his wide, emerald eyes off of what was happening in the room. His body felt hot; not exactly aroused per-se, but something, something odd and foreign and odd. He was only two metres away from the scene unfolding right in front of him, his future headmaster biting his bottom lip and his conflicted blue eyes half lidded with desire, while that animal of a blond began moving his hand just a bit faster, causing Dumbledore's head to fall back as he lost a bit of control over himself. Harry knew that Dumbledore was being manipulated, and the auburn haired man seemed to know it as well, but against all of what he believed to be right, Albus Dumbledore relented with a passionate and nearly brutal kiss that he planted upon Gellert's lips, giving up in the face of his lust.

The blond laughed once, an amused and slightly maniacal sound that sent Harry's nerves on edge, but he couldn't concentrate on that, because he was completely distracted by Dumbledore's actions. With a groan, he threw Gellert against the wooden wall of the room, the hand between them moving to bury in the auburn strands of Dumbledore's hair. The kiss they shared was heated and wet and filled with tongue that even Harry could see, and without even realising that he was doing it, the emerald eyed sixteen-year-old moved to where he could see those battling tongues better. From his new position, he could see Dumbledore thrust against Gellert's thigh, making the blond hiss in the kiss.

Suddenly, Gellert pushed him away slightly, making a slender trail of saliva string between them, and those golden fingers were pulling at the clasp of Dumbledore's trousers. Between their heavy panting, Harry could hear the fabric being pulled upon as Gellert began taking off the beige trousers as Dumbledore began biting on the blond's neck with perfectly straight teeth. And by the time Gellert had pulled those pants down enough to show that Harry's future headmaster wasn't wearing undergarments and to expose Dumbledore's erection, Harry's mouth had went dry and his breathing was nearly as rough as the couple he was watching.

God, the arousal of Albus Dumbledore was thick, long, and pulsing, with jagged veins along the length of it until it got to the mushroom-like head at the tip. It made Harry's blood boil at the sight of that straining erection, and he couldn't take his emerald gaze off of it. It seemed that Gellert couldn't either, but instead of just staring, he took the length in his hands, slowly stroking the flesh in-between his hands and twisting slightly at the end. It made Dumbledore moan in a tone that made Harry's pulse race, and without being able to control himself anymore, he felt his own body harden at the sight.

For a few moments, Gellert just stroked the throbbing length in his hands, his mouth yet again attached to Dumbledore's as they kissed with passion and a heat that Harry had never seen nor heard of before. Never had he kissed a girl with such lust and fire, not once, and the sight of their tongues furiously battling was arousing Harry to no end, his own erection beginning to strain in his school trousers. But as much as the emerald eyed sixteen-year-old loved watching them like this, it got worse when suddenly Gellert threw Dumbledore against the wall and disconnected their bodies for a long second before falling to his knees in front of the turquoise wizard.

Harry choked out a dry moan when Gellert's tongue darted out to lick at the precum that had seeped out of the slit in Dumbledore's arousal, and he licked his lips when those full lips closed around the head of his cock, sucking softly. And fuck, Dumbledore's reaction was even more delicious in Harry's opinion, his head falling back against the wall and showing the column of his throat, his hands coming to grab at his auburn locks as if torn about what to do with them. His eyes were clenched shut in ecstasy, his mouth open as he groaned at the sensation. A slight brush of sweat was upon his brow, only making the young Dumbledore look even more erotic as the blond sucked his weeping head, his hands upon Dumbledore's waist to keep him still.

That did not last long, and Harry let out an identical thick moan to Dumbledore when Gellert finally lowered his head and sucked the entirety of the future headmaster's cock down his throat. He began bobbing his head and allowing Dumbledore to move his hips, and finally giving into temptation, Harry lowered his own hand to his trousers, slipping his pale digits past the loose bottoms and undergarments and touching his erection for the first time. With the same agonising pace as the couple in front of him, he stroked himself, his emerald eyes heavy with desire but unwilling to close them because of the erotic sight unfolding before his very eyes. He had never imagined that he would be touching himself as he watched a memory of his headmaster in a situation like this one, and he definitely had never imagined that he would become so filled with desire with the sight of two men together, but here he was, and he wouldn't take his eyes off it unless he was dead and gone.

Dumbledore began thrusting his narrow hips into Gellert's mouth, his gasps and groans becoming louder and more frequent as he neared his release, and Harry could feel his own desire quickly reaching its peak. His hand began moving faster as the blond's mouth did, the auburn haired wizard's cock bathed in wet, shiny saliva that glowed in the firelight. Dumbledore's hands fell to Gellert's head and he buried his long, slender fingers in the wavy blond locks, urging his lover's head to move faster as he neared his peak. Harry's body went more rigid as he moved faster, wanting to find some sort-of release soon before he exploded with the intense desire he was consumed by. He suddenly deeply wished that he was in Gellert's position, sucking that cock into his own mouth and being the one to make such a powerful wizard shudder and moan like he was in the mercy of Gellert, because he found it so immensely arousing and alluring to hear those sounds coming from Dumbledore's lips.

And then just as soon as it started, it seemed, it ended, and Dumbledore pushed Gellert away and pulled him up, leaving his erection hanging out of his trousers and still glistening with saliva. Harry's hand stopped moving as he watched Dumbledore begin ripping off Gellert's own trousers, practically tearing them in half in his haste to get them off, and the blond pulled Dumbledore's pants off just as frantically. They both kicked off their shoes and pants, eventually tearing off their sweaters that covered their upper bodies, and suddenly they were both naked, gloriously naked, with Gellert slammed against the wall and Dumbledore waving his wand with a couple of whispered words before throwing the wooden stick aside, already forgotten. Harry recognised one of them as a cleansing charm, but the other was unknown to him, but at the moment he didn't much care, opting to instead get closer to the two men and unbuttoning his pants for better access to his own straining arousal.

For a long minute, they just stood there, plastered against each other and breathing harshly into each other's open mouths, and then Dumbledore grabbed Gellert's thighs and hoisted the smaller man up, forcing the blond to wrap his legs around Dumbledore's waist or risk falling. Quickly, the auburn haired wizard lifted his right hand and practically forced them into Gellert's mouth, where the blond sucked on them wildly and slicked them up. When Dumbledore deemed it good enough, Harry watched as the hand snaked behind Gellert's body and found its way to the blond's entrance, the index finger quickly pushing into the tight ring of muscle. Gellert arched into the intruding finger, his face slightly pinched as if he was in pain, but Dumbledore just kissed the man and purred in the back of his throat, entering another finger and preparing his lover for his more substantial length.

Harry had overheard about what sex between males consisted of, but hadn't really listened to the details. He didn't understand how they could enjoy it when it so obviously hurt them, and watching Gellert take another finger with an expression of pain was enough to make him stop for a moment and wonder what they got out of it. However, after a couple of moments with the blond squirming in discomfort, the smaller man suddenly let out a shrill cry of intense pleasure and exclaimed, "Oh my God, yes! Right there! Again! Again, Albus!" Dumbledore let out a growl in response to Gellert's needy wails, and Harry was blown away by how quickly pain could turn into pleasure, and the sounds that they were making was so arousing, so fucking hot...

The fingers left Gellert's opening and Dumbledore murmured another spell under his breath, a wandless charm. Harry recognised this one as well, as a lubrication charm, and very slowly, Dumbledore eased his hard and throbbing cock into his lover's entrance.

It was the same as before, with the pain in Gellert's face, but it didn't take nearly as long for the blond to begin shrieking when he was pleasured just right inside, and hearing Dumbledore's passionate moans harmonising with Gellert's pleasured cries was enough to make Harry begin moving his hand again, his entire body on fire as he watched the two men crash together in the roughness of their coupling. The wet sounds of flesh slapping upon flesh were nearly drowned out by the almost deafening screams that were coming from the blond's lips, but this wasn't what had Harry nearly delirious with lust.

It was the sight of a naked Albus Dumbledore, his handsome face contorted in pleasure, his body covered with a glossy sheen of sweat as he rammed his cock into Gellert's body. His entire form was tense, the muscles under his skin moving with jarring force as he brutally slammed his long, throbbing, delicious dick into his lover. And fuck, the sounds he made were so erotic that Harry's entire being yearned to be the man that was being fucked into the wooden wall. He could imagine that cock inside him, those slender fingers reaching between them to grab ahold of his flushed erection and pumping it in time with his powerful thrusts, and Harry's hand moved so fast, so fast, so good, imagining that the younger Dumbledore had his tongue down Harry's throat as he fucked him, fucked him hard and rough and perfect...

Gellert and Harry screamed at the same time, and the emerald eyed sixteen-year-old felt his entire body go white-hot with his release, his knees immediately giving out as he slumped against the wooden wall, his orgasm ripping through him like a tidal wave. He heard Dumbledore cry out sharply but his ears didn't register the sound as his brain was busy watching the auburn haired man go rigid as he came, the expression on his face one of total bliss. His body was as taut as a bow, his back slightly arched and his head falling back, his hair a tangled halo around his glowing face. God, he was so beautiful as he was consumed in his release, and even though Harry wanted nothing more than to watch that man in mid-orgasm forever, he felt himself being pulled out of the memory, for it was the end because Albus Dumbledore was growing fuzzy with relaxation and exhaustion and his memory was fading...

When he forced himself to open his eyes again, he found that he was still alone, thankfully. He blinked once, to clear his thoughts enough to process what was going on around him, and then again to wake himself up even though he wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in the floor of Dumbledore's office. Which was where he was. A quick, tired look around and he knew he was back at Hogwarts, waiting for his old, wise headmaster to come and show another memory of the early days of Lord Voldemort.

He could also see the thick liquid pooled at his feet, directly below his exposed length that was now soft with the extent of his release.

A second passed, where Harry just looked at his rapidly cooling seed on the floor of Dumbledore's office, and then he started violently, quickly pulling out his wand and cleaning up as fast as he could with his heart and stomach in his throat. He couldn't let Professor Dumbledore see him like this, couldn't let his elderly headmaster know that he had just gotten off watching a memory of a passionate and private moment between a much younger Dumbledore and his male lover.

Pensives were dangerous, evil inventions, Harry knew without a doubt, and as he finally cleaned himself and the floor up before writing a note with a shaking hand about not feeling well and needing to go back to the Common Room to rest, he knew that he would never be able to look at his headmaster and good friend again without knowing what had transpired here, and how he had—did—lust after the young, auburn haired Albus Dumbledore of so long ago.

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Albus Dumbledore was hidden in the shadows, all but invisible, as the Gryffindor made a sluggish and yet hasty exit, and when the pale, dark headed Harry Potter exited his office, he let out a deep breath that he hadn't realised he had been holding.

Pensives. Dangerous, and yet so tempting, indeed.

He headed quietly to bed.