Title: Teacher
Author name: Ociwen
Author email: ociwen@hotmail.com
Rating: R
Spoilers: SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP QTTA
Summary: Zacharias wants a teacher. Harry doesn't think its such a good idea. Some good old fashioned teenage boy slash with a helping of private Defense Association lessons and Quidditch.
DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. This is slash. If you are at all uncomfortable with the idea, go away NOW.
Teacher
"I want you to teach me again, Potter."
"Oh," Ron Weasley grimaced, "it's you."
Zacharias folded his arms across his chest and frowned. It wasn't as though he wanted to see Ron Weasley either. But since he followed Harry Potter around like a leech, he couldn't help avoiding that. If Ron hadn't been a prefect, older, a little taller and Harry Potter's friend, he might have said something nasty.
Harry Potter didn't seem terribly impressed to see Zacharias standing in the library himself. "Teach you what, exactly?" he grumbled, looking up from the textbook Zacharias had seen him reading half-heartedly a few moments beforehand.
"Well," Zacharias started, "defense stuff."
With a frown, Harry went back to his text, Transfigure Your World Today. "Look, I told you guys before, we've got a pretty good Defense Against the Dark Arts professor this year. One who'll actually teach stuff we'll use. You don't need me."
Zacharias pursed his lips. This was becoming a little more difficult than he had first reckoned. Fine. He wasn't going to beg Harry Potter for lessons. "Alright," he said at last, "I'll leave you to your work." He turned quickly on his heels and left the library. Madam Pince smirked as he walked out the doors, obviously pleased he'd taken his 'noise' with him.
"Good," he heard Ron say behind his back, "that bloke really annoys me."
* * * * *
The next day, coming out of Potions class with the Hufflepuffs, Harry Potter roughly caught his arm. Zacharias scrunched up his eyes, looking at him and not quite figuring out what Potter wanted. Harry nodded to the dim corridor opposite where all the other students were filing out of Snape's dungeon. Halfway down the deserted aisle, out of hearing from the students, Harry let go of his grip on Zacharias' robe and pulled a letter out of his trouser pocket.
Zacharias couldn't help but notice his arm burned where Potter had touched him. He rubbed it carefully.
"What is this supposed to be?" Harry hissed, shoving the letter within an inch of Zacharias' nose. Then he pulled it back before Zacharias could even get a clear look at it. "I thought I said I wouldn't teach you!"
Zacharias nearly flinched at the level Harry's voice had risen to. He shrugged. He reckoned he didn't have anything to lose if he tried asking again. And letters were formal requests. "Yeah," he agreed.
Harry's green eyes nearly popped out of his round glasses frames. He waved the letter around in the air over Zacharias' head. "Then why did you send me a letter asking if I would?"
Zacharias' reasoning sounded a lot better in his head than if he would say it aloud. He shrugged again. "You taught us some good stuff last year," he conceded. "I thought maybe you'd be willing to do it again."
Harry appeared to almost consider something for a moment, and then he shook his head. "No! The DA knows plenty by now. You're on your own."
"Exactly. It wouldn't be the DA," Zacharias said slowly, not wanting Harry to start shouting again, "it would just be me." He didn't want to explain that either. For all the suspicions he had himself about Harry Potter and You Know Who, the Gryffindor sure knew his stuff. It was something Zacharias really grudgingly admired. Besides, it really wouldn't hurt to use some extra lessons from the top Defense Against the Dark Arts OWL recipient of the previous year. His own OWLs were coming up too.
Harry wasn't buying it. He was fiddling with his wand absently instead.
"Look," Zacharias tried again, "I know you don't like me-"
"I'll think about it," Harry interrupted, looking up at Zacharias. The directness of his stare was unnerving and Zacharias averted his own eyes. The wall was pretty interesting anyway.
He nodded.
Harry didn't say anything more. Zacharias watched Harry's black school robes whip around his thin frame as he disappeared toward his own Potions lesson and Zacharias couldn't help but smile to himself at the small victory.
* * * * *
Three days later, Zacharias' barn owl arrived at the Hufflepuff table at breakfast with a letter.
"But you never get mail!" David Clagg, one of Zacharias' dorm mates, exclaimed between mouthfuls of toast.
Zacharias ignored him, despite the fact the other boy was right, and snapped the wax seal on his letter.
Smith,
Fine. I'll teach you. Where and when? I have Quidditch practice Tuesday and Friday evenings.
-Harry Potter
That was the first good thing to happen to him that day. Zacharias smiled to himself. He folded the letter along the lopsided crease and pocketed it. He gave his owl a few pets on the head. "Thanks."
Swivenhodge hooted happily and flew off back to the Owlery.
The second good thing to happen that day was at lunch. It was only three weeks into the school year, but it felt like it was in full swing already. "Hey, Smith!" There was a shout down from the other end of the Hufflepuff table.
Zacharias looked up from his chicken sandwich.
It was Dorny, the seventh year Keeper and Quidditch captain of the team that year. He was waving at Zacharias animatedly. "Quidditch practice- we've booked the pitch for Mondays and Thursdays at six. Be there or be square!"
Zacharias smiled to himself, shaking his head. Dorny was so weird sometimes, it was a wonder he was the Hufflepuff Quidditch captain. But Zacharias had been waiting for word of when the practices started and it would be wonderful to be back on his Nimbus 2000 again.
As it was a Thursday, after dinner that evening Zacharias made his way down to the Quidditch pitch with the rest of his team mates. There weren't any new players that year- all were returning. The team had added a new Chaser and Seeker the previous year, so there was no need for tryouts. To everyone's delight, the practice was able to start right off the bat.
Two hours and a hard workout later, the Hufflepuff players hit the showers after Dorny blew his whistle. Truthfully, Zacharias had forgotten all about Potter and his defense lessons that day until Summerby started complaining in the shower.
"That Potter fellow," he grumbled as he soaped under his left armpit, "he's been reinstated as Seeker this year."
"Oh?" At the mention of that name, Zacharias fumbled with his own soap bar. It slipped from his hands and hit the tile floor. He bent quickly to pick it up, trying to keep the water from dripping down his nose. Out of nowhere, Dorny's hand slapped his arse hard.
Zacharias jumped and his feet nearly slid under himself.
"Watch yourself there!" Dorny winked. Then he turned to Summerby and one of the other Chasers, a fourth year named Greengrass. "It'll be a long shot at the Cup this year then," he said more seriously.
All three others nodded, but Zacharias just rubbed his stinging bum. "Weirdo," he muttered under his breath. And the other boys in his year made comments about him! He didn't slap blokes on the bum.
Zacharias wasn't entirely sure why Harry Potter didn't agree to meet him again in the Room of Requirement, like last year, but he didn't question that. Harry would have snapped at him anyway. And the Gryffindor sometimes had strange reasons for doing things. Besides, Zacharias knew of all sorts of private study rooms in the Hufflepuff dorms.
Friday afternoon, after a relatively relaxing double lesson of Herbology with the fifth year Slytherins, Zacharias approached Professor Sprout with his request. He didn't like having to do that often. It was awkward having to look down his nose at a professor, but Zacharias was much taller than his Head of House.
"Professor," he said, "I was wondering if I could book one the study rooms- maybe the Skunk- for Sunday evenings? I'm having a tutor-"
"Of course, of course," Professor Sprout nodded absently as she brought a tin watering can up to a potted foxglove plant. "Just make sure to sign the sheet outside my office."
Zacharias did just that later, and then he promptly sent Swivenhodge off with another message for Harry Potter.
As planned, if a few minutes late, Harry Potter was waiting outside the Hufflepuff dorms by the Graeco-Roman revival statue of Dionysus holding a bunch of grapes.
"So," Harry said conversationally, looking around the corridor just past the kitchens, "this is the Hufflepuff section."
Zacharias nodded curtly and twisted the second-to-lowest grape of the bunch. "Red rose," was that week's password. The statue shuffled to the left to reveal a wide gap in the stone wall. "Just don't tell the Slytherins that," he added haughtily.
While walking through the Hufflepuff common room to the private study room, it was clear that Harry Potter had never been there before. He was regarding the squashy, over-stuffed black couches with curiosity. The low ceiling and yellow-painted badger caryatids caught his eye more than once. The sandstone fireplace made Harry slow down for a better look and he fully stopped a moment to watch the large floor-to-ceiling stained glass window on the far side of the room; the centre panel had moving figures that were chatting with each other and stiffly bending their lead-outlined forms. The Hufflepuff section of Hogwarts was originally the castle chapel, a rounded, octagonal area converted when it caught Helga Hufflepuff's eyes.
"Nice place, huh?" Zacharias said as he opened the oak door to the Skunk room. It was nowhere near as large as the Room of Requirement, but there were only two people it needed to accommodate. The loveseat and desk could easily be pushed to the side if they needed more room. And so long as the threadbare tapestry stayed fixed to the wall, it would be fairly injury- free too. (The tapestry was rumoured to have the occasional habit of fluttering in students' eyes)
Potter shrugged as he set down his rucksack. "Guess so."
Zacharias wandered over to see what Harry Potter was setting out over the desktop. He had a neat little row of devices, some of them familiar, some of them not.
"What's all this?" Zacharias frowned, holding up one of the full-size Sneakoscopes sceptically. "Why did you bring toys along?"
Harry Potter glanced over his shoulder, green eyes irritated and leering over the top of his glasses' frames.
Zacharias felt his cheeks flush. Those eyes were so unnatural- he didn't like to be glared at with them. He put the Sneakoscope down immediately.
"Right then," Harry said. He walked around the desk slowly, surveying. "I brought these here to explain them all and why I've found them useful at some point."
Zacharias sat down on the couch, prepared for a long lecture. The loveseat was squashy and he sunk down into the right arm with little effort- and he was fairly slim! He was glad that Harry was standing up instead of seated; otherwise they would have slid together into the armrest.
And that would have been uncomfortable.
It wasn't actually so much of a Defense lesson as a bit of storytelling, of explanations and exclamations. Potter calmly went through the little devices individually with an anecdote, talking a bit about Mad Eye Moody. And then he went into how an impostor had polyjuiced himself as the ex- Auror in Zacharias' third year.
"But how do you know that?!" Zacharias found himself shouting half-way through. Harry just didn't go into the hows and whys sometimes. It was very frustrating. He acted as though he expected Zacharias to know already.
Harry slammed his fist down on the table suddenly. "Do you, or do you not, want me here?"
Zacharias shut his mouth, but Harry continued on.
"Because I'm wondering that myself! You're just sitting there, not doing anything, not caring. Do you even care about defending yourself? Do you care about the Unforgivables even? Maybe I should just talk about them- that's all anyone ever wants! 'Show me how to resist the Imperius!'" he spat harshly.
Zacharias' eyes widened. "The Imperius curse?" he asked. "You can do that?"
Harry's face immediately switched from anger to something else, his features contorting. "Well, I dunno if I could cast it, but I can resist it."
Zacharias couldn't wait for the next lesson! This was the interesting stuff he wanted to learn. If You Know Who was back, he would be using Unforgivables. Zacharias wanted to be prepared.
Harry Potter showed up early instead of late the next Sunday evening. Zacharias had barely got outside the Hufflepuff dorms to wait to let Harry in. He asked why Harry was there so early, so soon after dinner.
"Transfiguration essay to do later," he explained as they walked through to the study room swiftly. Potter was moving warily this time, as there was a group of sixth and seventh years playing a game of Exploding Snap. Zacharias reckoned Harry must have known them. His face flushed when he realized Harry must be embarrassed to be tutoring him.
"I guess we can just finish early tonight," he said tensely.
That lesson was by far the most interesting Zacharias had ever had, including the ones of Lupin's or 'Moody''s. Harry seemed rather uncomfortable with the Imperius Curse, but Zacharias pressed him on.
"I want to see it in action," he goaded after Harry explained just how the curse warped your mind.
Harry gave Zacharias a long, hard stare and he had to fight not to look away. The Gryffindor shook his head. "No," he said firmly. Sealing the matter.
Zacharias wouldn't believe Harry. He crouched down low over in the far corner of the room, by the dark wood panelling. He stuck his head under the small table there and fished around with his hand for a moment. "Look. There's a spider down here- use it."
Harry Potter still refused and Zacharias was tired of harassing him. At least for one night. "Fine," he said after Harry refused flat-out to test the curse on the spider a third time. Zacharias swung the heavy door open for the other boy to leave. "Fine then. I hope you lose against Ravenclaw next Saturday anyway!"
Harry Potter only snorted sarcastically when he left. "Sure thing."
And, of course, in the opening game of the season the following Saturday, the reinstated Gryffindor Seeker won the match for Gryffindor 240-70.
Zacharias watched the whole game intently that afternoon from the Hufflepuff stands. His team mates were all there. It was a surprisingly bright and sunny early autumn afternoon. One that made you smile at the weather for once.
However, by the end of the game, Zacharias was scowling.
"What's wrong now, Smith?" Dorny asked as he smacked Zacharias across the arm with a meaty hand. "I thought you didn't like the Gryffindor team."
"Exactly!" Zacharias snapped. That was the whole thing!
"Well," Dorny raised a dark eyebrow and waggled it, "you were never this upset about them winning before." The other students in the vicinity all sniggered. Zacharias looked at his feet, cheeks burning.
On Sunday night, there was an unexpected knock on his dorm room door.
Zacharias was lying on his stomach on his bed going over his Ancient Runes notes on Nordic consonants. He had a test that week. Ernie Macmillan let himself into the room.
"Harry Potter's at the door downstairs," he explained. "He says that he's supposed to meet you." Ernie had a strange half-smile on his face. It made Zacharias feel guilty- though he couldn't figure out why. "He's even got a present for you."
Zacharias scrunched up his forehead, a stray lock of blond hair fluttering down between his eyes in the process. He brushed it away with the back of his hand. "What?" he asked, but he followed Ernie into the common room anyway.
Sure enough, standing there, awkwardly shifting his weight from foot to foot and a box in hand, was Harry Potter. He looked quite uncomfortable talking with Susan Bones there. Zacharias was slightly pleased over this. He walked up to Harry and held his nose up. "What are you doing here?"
Harry shot him a dark look. "You wanted to be taught, right?" He shoved the box into Zacharias' arms and it jumped around. Zacharias had to lean forward to make certain he didn't drop it.
Gryffindors are a strange bunch, he thought. He nodded. "Come on, then."
Harry looked relieved and angry at the same time.
In the Skunk room, Zacharias peered into the little round hole cut in the top of the box. It was dark inside and he couldn't make out what was inside. He squinted; what he thought were a pair of eyes gleamed back. "What's this?" he asked.
Harry opened the lid and pulled a small brown dormouse out by the tail. It wriggled around, twisting and turning. "You wanted to see the Imperius Curse, right?"
Zacharias knew his eyes went wide. A big, bright hazel wide.
With a combination of fascination and morbid curiosity, Zacharias watched as Harry Potter used the curse to make the little mouse dance around the desk on its hind paws. It was disgusting that Potter had so much control over the animal- and that he knew what to do- and yet at the same time the power he radiated was alluring.
After a few minutes, Harry put away his wand; the little mouse collapsed from sheer exertion into a furry heap. "There," Harry said stiffly, sounding detached and distant. "Is that what you wanted?"
Zacharias didn't know how to respond to that. He just stared at Harry.
"When someone casts the Imperius Curse on you," he explained, "it's like you don't care what they make you do. You could dance. You could pick your nose. You could kill. A little voice in your head tells you it's alright. That you want to do it."
Words formed in Zacharias' mouth at last: "Then how do you resist it?"
Harry shrugged and looked toward the gold-embroidered tapestry. "Dunno. Will power, maybe. Practice, maybe. Something else entirely- I can't explain it."
"Teach me." Zacharias looked at the mouse; it was struggling pathetically to get up onto its paws. Completely helpless.
Was that what it had been like with You Know Who? Zacharias shuddered at the thought.
"No."
Zacharias scowled. "I want to learn how to resist it, too. Cast it on me."
"No!" Harry Potter glared, his mouth set in a thin line. "You don't know what it's like. It's.it's mind rape! No one should ever have that happen to them."
Zacharias wasn't convinced yet, despite the ominous words. "I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be brave. You're not afraid of casting it, are you?"
"It has nothing to do with that!" Harry shouted. He was so loud that Zacharias had to wonder what the other students in the common room thought they were arguing about. It could sound suspicious, especially to Hannah Abbott. "Casting an Unforgivable is-"
Zacharias' head shot up. "So you have cast them before. On people, too?"
Potter didn't say anything. His face drained of all colour, though.
"Which one was it?"
Harry Potter just put the struggling mouse back into its box gently. He closed the lid carefully. "Cruciatus," he said quietly as he exited.
Zacharias was left standing there with his mouth hanging open.
The remainder of the week, Zacharias couldn't help but think about Harry Potter casting the Cruciatus. Why wasn't he in Azkaban then? He had thought the Ministry immediately knew when Unforgivables were cast. Maybe the curse didn't work for him? Most importantly, who had been the intended recipient and when and where? Harry Potter had disappeared briefly at the end of the previous year, right before the Ministry had admitted Voldemort had returned. And Potter had been acting differently ever since about then- more bitter, more withdrawn, more cynical.
Zacharias also started to notice Harry Potter. He'd never really thought before how his eyes were such a vivid green- that maybe he didn't get so much unnerved as he did weak-kneed whenever they looked his way. How he was such a skinny person under his voluminous robes and clothes. Zacharias wanted to know what his body looked like under them.
He blushed at the thought.
Twice, Ron Weasley caught Zacharias staring at Harry in the Great Hall at dinner. Then Weasley would lean over and say something to Harry- Zacharias couldn't hear what- and Harry would turn around slowly, give Zacharias a perplexed look, and return to his meal, occasionally checking over his shoulder at the Hufflepuff table. Zacharias figured phrases like "he's so annoying", "what does the creep want?" and "he's doing it again" were exchanged.
But it wasn't until Saturday night and nearly a week of constantly thinking about Harry Potter that something really weird happened. Zacharias was asleep, dreaming.
They were in the Room of Requirement. Just the two of them. Just Harry and him. Harry was saying something, but he couldn't make the words out. Harry's lips were moving silently and he had started yelling. Zacharias shook his head. "I can't hear you. Speak louder!"
Harry banged his fist down and more angry silent words poured from his rapidly moving lips.
He shook his head. "I can't hear you. I can't. Talk louder, Harry." His own words, though, felt slurred and mumbled. "Harry. I can't hear you."
Harry stopped talking and turned his back to him. Harry didn't move and there was not even a shallow rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed. He started to worry; he grabbed Harry's shoulders and turned Harry around. Harry was pliable and bony and light, but Harry didn't even scowl when he was grabbed.
He looked at Harry. Harry's face was blank, his eyes glassy and dead.
"Harry," he mumbled, fearing the worst.
Harry's lips opened slightly, but nothing more. Growing ever more panicked, he brought his index finger up to Harry's mouth to make sure Harry could still breathe. He traced the pink lips slowly. They were still warm. There was still hope.
He didn't quite know what came over him, but his dream self had a mind of his own. He leaned in close to Harry and removed his finger slowly. He felt a shuddering sigh emerge from Harry's lips and the dead green eyes fluttered shut.
"Oh," he said, understanding. He brushed his mouth against Harry's. It felt good, such a light, feathery touch. "Harry."
Their lips touched again and the second time Zacharias tentatively moved his against Harry's. Harry didn't seem to mind because, while not moving his lips, he did push his mouth forward and opened it slowly.
He moaned. Harry did want it. He gradually opened his own mouth against Harry's own and moved his tongue out to touch Harry's lower lip, which had started to trem-
"Zacharias!"
Zacharias' eyes shot wide open and he came to with a strangled gasp. He blinked once; a pillow was thrown in his face.
"Did you have a good dream?" Mark Stone, one of his dorm mates, asked in a sing-song voice before yanking his flat pillow back.
Zacharias blinked again. Harry. Dream. Kissing. His face lit up like a glass of Firewhiskey. He tried to untangle his long legs from his sheets, but failed. Zacharias immediately shut the curtains to his bed, utterly mortified. Had they all heard?
"Mmmm.Harry.oooooh.Harry." One of the others, likely Alexander, moaned and made sloppy, wet kissing noises.
The other boys all burst out in a gale of laughter.
Zacharias wanted to crawl under a rock and shrivel up. Die, even. "It was just a dream," he mumbled, but knew his response was futile. His pyjamas, skewed and half-pulled down his hips, were caked to his body with a layer of hot sweat. There was an even wetter, warmer, more uncomfortable situation around his groin.
"Always knew he was weird, that one," David announced loudly. The other boys all laughed and disappeared for breakfast.
Zacharias wondered how he was ever going to live this one down. He wanted a memory charm badly. On himself.
Luckily, the situation wasn't as dire as Zacharias initially thought it would be. It wasn't mentioned again, for some reason; although he did receive a number of sideways glances from other Hufflepuffs when he snuck down late for breakfast.
And the other boys swore they would never shower with Zacharias again. But that was okay.
However, he also had the problem of Harry Potter and his private defense lessons. There was no way Zacharias could do them that evening. It had taken all of the guts he had (plus some Courage Potion his grandmother gave him the previous Christmas) to cringe his way through the Hufflepuff common room and head up to the Great Hall to eat at a time when the Hall was nigh empty. How on earth would he be able to face Harry Potter? He'd had a wet dream about him. And they were kissing in it!
Zacharias locked himself up in his dorm with a back issue of Martin Miggs, Mad Muggle that day. No one even bothered to disturb him until well after seven that evening. His stomach sank to an abysmal depth when he heard Ernie's cheery voice.
"Harry Potter's here again to see you."
Zacharias paled. He knew that Harry would come, yet he dreaded it all the same, He fervently hoped none of his dorm mates heard Ernie. "I'm.I'm sick," he choked out, hoping Ernie would buy his fib.
"Oh?" Ernie let himself in, eyes sweeping down Zacharias' drained and white face. "You don't look too ill to me."
"I am," he said quickly. Too quickly.
Ernie gave Zacharias a sceptical smile. "Alright then. Should I tell Harry that?"
"Yes!" Zacharias all but pleaded. Just leave me.
Ernie walked out, stopping briefly with his hand still on the doorknob. He turned to Zacharias and smiled wider. "You might want to try reading Martin Miggs right-side up next time."
* * * * *
On Monday, Zacharias caught himself staring at Harry Potter at lunch. This time it was Harry's lips. They were really soft in his dream and Zacharias wondered if they were just so in real life. They looked pink and nice and quite kissable.
He wouldn't have even noticed this until David and Liam started snickering and grinning when Harry Potter walked into the Great Hall to eat. Then Ron Weasley heard this and had to whisper something to Harry, who gave Zacharias a funny look- made even funnier by the fact he had a chunk of hair sticking out horizontally just above his ear- as though he didn't quite believe Zacharias had been sick the night before after all.
Then Zacharias' cheeks had to turn a vivid shade of red.
On Tuesday, Zacharias didn't see Harry Potter until he was returning to his dorm from an OWL prep study session in the library. Harry was coming back from Quidditch practice that evening. He looked worn, wet and mud- splattered from the rain. Zacharias couldn't help but notice how Potter's wet Quidditch robes clung to form-fit his body. He could almost see the light muscles rippling underneath the scarlet fabric. Especially around Harry's thighs and chest.
Zacharias dropped the heavy Muggle Studies text he had been carrying. It hit the flagstone floor with a loud crash. Then, his face turned pink as he bent over to pick it up and Harry Potter and Ron Weasley turned around to see where the origin of the noise was.
"Strange bloke, that one," Weasley said. "Can't figure out why Ginny sometimes hangs around him."
On Wednesday, Harry Potter accidentally brushed Zacharias' arm as he was leaving his Charms lesson and Zacharias was about to have his. It was pure chance, Zacharias told himself over and over that day, but that didn't help the fact his arm had been branded. It tingled mildly the rest of the day where Harry had touched it and Professor Flitwick had to remind Zacharias not to daydream in class.
On Thursday, Zacharias had to force himself to stare at his food, not Harry Potter, at meals. Especially since Harry was frowning his way.
Then, there was a horrid Quidditch practice, in which Zacharias couldn't help but focus on the goalposts, which reminded him of the round glasses frames Harry wore. And it was raining again.
Trudging back up to the castle from the pitch, someone loudly called out his name.
"Hey Smith! Zacharias!"
That was Harry's voice.
Zacharias felt his face flush, then drain. He shivered and sweated. His breath was short. He turned around, with some of his team mates, to see why Harry Potter was calling his name.
Zacharias' tongue went dry to boot. He nearly swallowed it. "Yes?" he managed.
Harry jogged up to him, a red umbrella swaying slightly from side to side. "You still want a lesson this Sunday? Ernie said you were sick last weekend," he said in a low voice, which seemed to attract the attention of the other players he might have been trying to avoid.
Zacharias went for nonchalance, despite the nausea building inside. He held his chin up high and turned pink in the process. He nodded once, then remembered something. "The conference rooms are all booked. Sorry."
That was convenient! Anyway, he knew that being alone with Harry Potter would just be asking for trouble.
Harry nodded, frowning a bit. "Right. And it's the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year. Unless you still want a lesson-"
"Okay!" Zacharias said before he could stop himself. "Unless.you're going."
Harry appeared to think about that. "Nah. Ron and Hermione can have some time to themselves. They need it." Then he seemed to think some more. "How big are the Hufflepuff dorms? I'd offer mine up, but Neville's going to be studying there for a Herbology quiz."
Zacharias was torn between saying "What about the Room of Requirement?" and "They're all big in Hufflepuff" and "Oh, God, yes- No!". He ended up mumbling "Okay" before walking off as fast as he could without it being terribly obvious.
Plus, he was beginning to get an erection that he'd rather Harry not notice.
On Friday, Zacharias was on his way up to the Great Hall for breakfast carrying his books in his arms because he'd slept late and one of the other boys had hidden his rucksack. Harry Potter and his two friends were just leaving the Hall; Zacharias had to go and notice him. Then he had to go and notice Harry's hands. They looked callused and rough and thin and kinda big. The sort Zacharias wouldn't mind on his own waist. Then he had to go and imagine what it would be like to have those hands on his waist- would they grip possessively or hold lightly? Would they be warm or cool? Would Harry look-
SPLAT!
Zacharias didn't know exactly what had happened until he peeled his face off the top step of the stairs he had been ascending. A first year Slytherin girl slinking past laughed at him. Ron Weasley made another grimace that looked quite pleased at the same time. Harry Potter frowned at Zacharias, as he often seemed apt to do.
Getting up shakily, Zacharias bent back down to retrieve his scattered textbooks and parchments, when Harry Potter swooped down and did it for him.
"Here," Harry said as he handed the books one by one to Zacharias.
Zacharias' cheeks sported pink flushes by now and he knew Harry had seen it. "Thanks," he muttered, hoping Harry would leave soon.
Harry gave him a nod. "Don't worry about it. I'll see you Sunday, then." He gave a little smile.
As Ron and Harry and Hermione Granger walked away, Zacharias could hear Ron saying loudly, purposely, "Next he'll think you're his friend Harry! That kid annoys me."
Zacharias had never felt so elated than when he heard Harry reply, "I don't mind him much, actually."
With the passing of Saturday, a ball of nervousness and dread knotted and then grew in Zacharias' chest. He told himself to keep acting normally, that it was normal to have someone you dreamed about being alone with in your dorm.
But when he woke up Sunday morning, he could hardly function. Breakfast was a lost cause. He knew, subconsciously, that he would be in the shower longer than normal that morning even though nothing was going to happen. Nothing. He was just going to learn more of his defense stuff. Zacharias waited until his other roommates had all left to go line up for Hogsmeade before even attempting to crawl out of bed. His skin felt clammy and moist. For once when thinking about Harry he wasn't the shade of a ripe tomato. No, now he was a snowcone.
By the time Zacharias had got into the showers, a scant minute or two after getting up, he was already about to come. He was so hard. His balls contracted as he slipped off his pyjama bottoms and went under the hot spray of water. Three strokes and a mental image of messy hair and green eyes later and his back arched against the shower tiles. Cock in fist, pumping and coming at once. Zacharias even allowed himself a strangled "Harry!" that morning in hopes of calming his nerves.
Besides, no one else was around.
But as he dressed, he thought of those callused, Seeker's hands. He wished they'd catch him. As he combed his blond hair, he thought of those full, pink-hued lips. As he brushed his teeth, he thought of those thin legs, that slim arse, those crooked glasses, those-
"Zacharias? Is that your name?"
Zacharias' head shot around. He had been sitting in a low chair by his bed, not doing anything, but nonetheless his leg shook worse than a Death Eater facing a Dementor. His stomach was twisted like he had had too much Pepper- Up potion and his cock was hard again.
"That's me," he said warily to the second year boy who had wandered into his room. He hoped the kid had a good reason for bothering him.
"Harry Potter's in the common room. Charlotte let him in so he could sign an autograph for her, but he said he's supposed to meet you."
Zacharias' insides completely withered. He lost what remaining colour was in his face. What was Harry Potter doing there now? It couldn't be that late! It was too early to be meeting-
"Er.aren't you going to go meet him or something?" the boy asked.
Zacharias nodded blankly. He walked behind the second year numbly to the common room. He couldn't think. He could hardly breathe. He didn't have enough time to prepare. He prepared too much. Would Harry notice? Would Harry not notice? Would-
Harry didn't notice Zacharias' silence or his paleness. "I remembered some stuff last night that I reckoned you'd like to learn. So I thought I'd show you today instead, if you like. It takes a little while to set up, though."
Zacharias swallowed. His throat was so dry. "Sure," he croaked, and led the way to his dorm.
When he entered Zacharias' dorm, Harry didn't stare uncomfortably like he had when he entered the Hufflepuff common room for the first time those few weeks ago. He did pause a moment at the large, pointed-arched coloured window panel on the wall opposite the five beds.
Zacharias sat back in his chair first thing. Standing made his legs wobble. And robes hid a lot, but they didn't conceal everything he needed them to at the present. He shifted around in the chair to try to arrange his robes.
Harry pulled a strange metallic object out of his bag. "Does that window open at all?" He squinted his eyes at the ledge. "I can't see a crank."
Zacharias blinked. Why would Harry need the window open? But he'd rather the Gryffindor focus on setting up his bizarre contraption. "Defenestrus!" He flicked his wand at the window and it opened a good two feet, no crank needed.
"Good." Harry lugged his metallic box, which was black on one side, over to the window and perched it on the stone ledge precariously. "A friend- another Auror- told me about this in the summer. I thought it'd be cool to try. And it's supposed to be pretty sunny this afternoon, so it should work better now than later tonight."
"Sure," Zacharias said tensely, not really understanding. An icy sweat was starting to drip down his forehead. His hands gripped the puffy armchair he sat in tight enough to leave permanent dents in the fading fabric.
Before Zacharias knew what the other boy was doing, Harry Potter had dropped the glass rod he had been inserting into the metallic box and stomped over to the Hufflepuff.
"Look- what is your problem?" he shouted. Zacharias closed his eyes and cringed. He tried to sink lower into the chair. "You've been acting all weird today- this week! I thought you wanted to learn Defense more." Harry threw his arms up in the air in frustration.
"I do." Zacharias protested meekly.
"Then what's wrong with you? Are you sick again? I can call it off today if that's what you want."
"No!" he insisted, "I'm fine."
Harry didn't seem convinced. "All you've done is sit in that chair and sweat. I may have glasses, but I'm not blind."
Zacharias gulped. Harry had got too close. Leaned in too close. Far too close. All he could see were those wide, ethereal green eyes. All he could smell was that earthy, musky, slightly salty and sweet scent that he immediately identified as 'Harry Potter'. All he could feel was that warm breath and feel those lips on his own.
On his own!?!
Zacharias' eyes went huge. "Wha-" he began, but it was cut short when Harry's mouth got in the way. It was soft and moist and warm, just like he had imagined, but it was even better real. He could feel the blood pulsing below the surface and the little dent on the upper side as well and they were slightly minty and slightly sticky and sweet.
The touch was fleeting and brief. Hardly there and yet still a scorching burn.
Then it was gone.
Harry backed up one step, two, then looked away. "Sorry," he murmured unapologetically, "shouldn't have done that."
Then Zacharias realized what had just happened. We kissed. Harry Potter and I kissed. His heart leapt and then sunk back down as Harry frowned and pursed his lips, wiping them with the drooping sleeve of his robe as though poison had touched them.
"You're.sorry?" Zacharias didn't believe his ears.
Harry's head whipped around and his glasses slid down his nose. "Yeah. Obviously I got the wrong impression this week," he said bitterly.
Zacharias sat stunned in his chair for a moment. The, with a deciding factor, he stood up and strode over to Harry. He grabbed the Gryffindor by the shoulder and spun him around, just like in the dream. "No, you didn't," he said before he had time to realize just what had slipped from his mouth. Which he promptly shut. Then he froze on the spot. What do I do next? He didn't have a clue.
"No?" Harry leaned a little closer, into Zacharias' arm and Zacharias noticed he was just a little taller than the other boy.
"No," Zacharias maintained firmly, consciously playing at the hem of Harry's tattered robe.
"Good."
And Harry Potter kissed him a second time.
This one was better than the first, because both knew a little more of what it was. Harry's mouth moved against Zacharias', which opened on its own when he felt something wet and sorta silky poke at his lips. Then there was a tongue tentatively sliding along his own; Zacharias thought it was a pretty good feeling, so he tilted his head a little more to the left to get in closer.
Harry pressed more firmly, more deeply, more fast, tongue rippling and roving in Zacharias' mouth. Zacharias thought he might have to moan, but Harry's hand lightly placed itself in the middle of his back and he did moan out.
That made Harry pull him in tightly and push his lips harder against Zacharias before he pulled away, panting shallowly.
They were half-holding each other in an awkward position- Harry partly standing, partly smooching Zacharias into the chair. He took Zacharias' hand gently and they sat down on the nearest- Zacharias'- bed.
Harry smiled an almost cocky half-smile, lips redder and more swollen than they had been earlier and Zacharias couldn't help but think I did that.
"I suppose we'd better get back to the Defense lesson, then?"
Zacharias actually glared. "No!" They'd just kissed and Harry Potter was wanting to get back to teaching Defense lessons?
"But," Harry shook his head ruefully, "I thought you wanted to learn Defense strategies, not." He waved his hand around, between the two of them.
Zacharias smiled. "I do," he said honestly. He shifted over a little closer to Harry, into his territory and his smile grew when Harry sat his ground. Purposely taking the two warm, rough hands in his own, he placed one on either side of his hips and let go, leaving Harry's hands lightly gripping his waist.
Green eyes looked up into his own plain brown ones. Sparks nearly flew and the room started to fade, leaving only the two of them.
"But," Zacharias smiled as he leaned over to meet those lips, "I want to learn this, too."
Author's Notes: First off, a big thanks should go to my beta Berne who did a fab job tweaking what I had to make it that much more of what it could be. *glomps*
And another thanks should go to my Livejournal Friends who commented on this fic when it was in the works. I loved what they had to say!
I wrote this fic for two reasons: One, to prove to myself that there could be a Harry/Zacharias fic where Zacharias wasn't characterized as simply a 'DracoLite', and two, just the fact that I wanted to show myself I can write a Harry/Zacharias fic that works.
I can only hope I have achieved both.
Your feedback is the nectar of the gods.
Author name: Ociwen
Author email: ociwen@hotmail.com
Rating: R
Spoilers: SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP QTTA
Summary: Zacharias wants a teacher. Harry doesn't think its such a good idea. Some good old fashioned teenage boy slash with a helping of private Defense Association lessons and Quidditch.
DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. This is slash. If you are at all uncomfortable with the idea, go away NOW.
Teacher
"I want you to teach me again, Potter."
"Oh," Ron Weasley grimaced, "it's you."
Zacharias folded his arms across his chest and frowned. It wasn't as though he wanted to see Ron Weasley either. But since he followed Harry Potter around like a leech, he couldn't help avoiding that. If Ron hadn't been a prefect, older, a little taller and Harry Potter's friend, he might have said something nasty.
Harry Potter didn't seem terribly impressed to see Zacharias standing in the library himself. "Teach you what, exactly?" he grumbled, looking up from the textbook Zacharias had seen him reading half-heartedly a few moments beforehand.
"Well," Zacharias started, "defense stuff."
With a frown, Harry went back to his text, Transfigure Your World Today. "Look, I told you guys before, we've got a pretty good Defense Against the Dark Arts professor this year. One who'll actually teach stuff we'll use. You don't need me."
Zacharias pursed his lips. This was becoming a little more difficult than he had first reckoned. Fine. He wasn't going to beg Harry Potter for lessons. "Alright," he said at last, "I'll leave you to your work." He turned quickly on his heels and left the library. Madam Pince smirked as he walked out the doors, obviously pleased he'd taken his 'noise' with him.
"Good," he heard Ron say behind his back, "that bloke really annoys me."
* * * * *
The next day, coming out of Potions class with the Hufflepuffs, Harry Potter roughly caught his arm. Zacharias scrunched up his eyes, looking at him and not quite figuring out what Potter wanted. Harry nodded to the dim corridor opposite where all the other students were filing out of Snape's dungeon. Halfway down the deserted aisle, out of hearing from the students, Harry let go of his grip on Zacharias' robe and pulled a letter out of his trouser pocket.
Zacharias couldn't help but notice his arm burned where Potter had touched him. He rubbed it carefully.
"What is this supposed to be?" Harry hissed, shoving the letter within an inch of Zacharias' nose. Then he pulled it back before Zacharias could even get a clear look at it. "I thought I said I wouldn't teach you!"
Zacharias nearly flinched at the level Harry's voice had risen to. He shrugged. He reckoned he didn't have anything to lose if he tried asking again. And letters were formal requests. "Yeah," he agreed.
Harry's green eyes nearly popped out of his round glasses frames. He waved the letter around in the air over Zacharias' head. "Then why did you send me a letter asking if I would?"
Zacharias' reasoning sounded a lot better in his head than if he would say it aloud. He shrugged again. "You taught us some good stuff last year," he conceded. "I thought maybe you'd be willing to do it again."
Harry appeared to almost consider something for a moment, and then he shook his head. "No! The DA knows plenty by now. You're on your own."
"Exactly. It wouldn't be the DA," Zacharias said slowly, not wanting Harry to start shouting again, "it would just be me." He didn't want to explain that either. For all the suspicions he had himself about Harry Potter and You Know Who, the Gryffindor sure knew his stuff. It was something Zacharias really grudgingly admired. Besides, it really wouldn't hurt to use some extra lessons from the top Defense Against the Dark Arts OWL recipient of the previous year. His own OWLs were coming up too.
Harry wasn't buying it. He was fiddling with his wand absently instead.
"Look," Zacharias tried again, "I know you don't like me-"
"I'll think about it," Harry interrupted, looking up at Zacharias. The directness of his stare was unnerving and Zacharias averted his own eyes. The wall was pretty interesting anyway.
He nodded.
Harry didn't say anything more. Zacharias watched Harry's black school robes whip around his thin frame as he disappeared toward his own Potions lesson and Zacharias couldn't help but smile to himself at the small victory.
* * * * *
Three days later, Zacharias' barn owl arrived at the Hufflepuff table at breakfast with a letter.
"But you never get mail!" David Clagg, one of Zacharias' dorm mates, exclaimed between mouthfuls of toast.
Zacharias ignored him, despite the fact the other boy was right, and snapped the wax seal on his letter.
Smith,
Fine. I'll teach you. Where and when? I have Quidditch practice Tuesday and Friday evenings.
-Harry Potter
That was the first good thing to happen to him that day. Zacharias smiled to himself. He folded the letter along the lopsided crease and pocketed it. He gave his owl a few pets on the head. "Thanks."
Swivenhodge hooted happily and flew off back to the Owlery.
The second good thing to happen that day was at lunch. It was only three weeks into the school year, but it felt like it was in full swing already. "Hey, Smith!" There was a shout down from the other end of the Hufflepuff table.
Zacharias looked up from his chicken sandwich.
It was Dorny, the seventh year Keeper and Quidditch captain of the team that year. He was waving at Zacharias animatedly. "Quidditch practice- we've booked the pitch for Mondays and Thursdays at six. Be there or be square!"
Zacharias smiled to himself, shaking his head. Dorny was so weird sometimes, it was a wonder he was the Hufflepuff Quidditch captain. But Zacharias had been waiting for word of when the practices started and it would be wonderful to be back on his Nimbus 2000 again.
As it was a Thursday, after dinner that evening Zacharias made his way down to the Quidditch pitch with the rest of his team mates. There weren't any new players that year- all were returning. The team had added a new Chaser and Seeker the previous year, so there was no need for tryouts. To everyone's delight, the practice was able to start right off the bat.
Two hours and a hard workout later, the Hufflepuff players hit the showers after Dorny blew his whistle. Truthfully, Zacharias had forgotten all about Potter and his defense lessons that day until Summerby started complaining in the shower.
"That Potter fellow," he grumbled as he soaped under his left armpit, "he's been reinstated as Seeker this year."
"Oh?" At the mention of that name, Zacharias fumbled with his own soap bar. It slipped from his hands and hit the tile floor. He bent quickly to pick it up, trying to keep the water from dripping down his nose. Out of nowhere, Dorny's hand slapped his arse hard.
Zacharias jumped and his feet nearly slid under himself.
"Watch yourself there!" Dorny winked. Then he turned to Summerby and one of the other Chasers, a fourth year named Greengrass. "It'll be a long shot at the Cup this year then," he said more seriously.
All three others nodded, but Zacharias just rubbed his stinging bum. "Weirdo," he muttered under his breath. And the other boys in his year made comments about him! He didn't slap blokes on the bum.
Zacharias wasn't entirely sure why Harry Potter didn't agree to meet him again in the Room of Requirement, like last year, but he didn't question that. Harry would have snapped at him anyway. And the Gryffindor sometimes had strange reasons for doing things. Besides, Zacharias knew of all sorts of private study rooms in the Hufflepuff dorms.
Friday afternoon, after a relatively relaxing double lesson of Herbology with the fifth year Slytherins, Zacharias approached Professor Sprout with his request. He didn't like having to do that often. It was awkward having to look down his nose at a professor, but Zacharias was much taller than his Head of House.
"Professor," he said, "I was wondering if I could book one the study rooms- maybe the Skunk- for Sunday evenings? I'm having a tutor-"
"Of course, of course," Professor Sprout nodded absently as she brought a tin watering can up to a potted foxglove plant. "Just make sure to sign the sheet outside my office."
Zacharias did just that later, and then he promptly sent Swivenhodge off with another message for Harry Potter.
As planned, if a few minutes late, Harry Potter was waiting outside the Hufflepuff dorms by the Graeco-Roman revival statue of Dionysus holding a bunch of grapes.
"So," Harry said conversationally, looking around the corridor just past the kitchens, "this is the Hufflepuff section."
Zacharias nodded curtly and twisted the second-to-lowest grape of the bunch. "Red rose," was that week's password. The statue shuffled to the left to reveal a wide gap in the stone wall. "Just don't tell the Slytherins that," he added haughtily.
While walking through the Hufflepuff common room to the private study room, it was clear that Harry Potter had never been there before. He was regarding the squashy, over-stuffed black couches with curiosity. The low ceiling and yellow-painted badger caryatids caught his eye more than once. The sandstone fireplace made Harry slow down for a better look and he fully stopped a moment to watch the large floor-to-ceiling stained glass window on the far side of the room; the centre panel had moving figures that were chatting with each other and stiffly bending their lead-outlined forms. The Hufflepuff section of Hogwarts was originally the castle chapel, a rounded, octagonal area converted when it caught Helga Hufflepuff's eyes.
"Nice place, huh?" Zacharias said as he opened the oak door to the Skunk room. It was nowhere near as large as the Room of Requirement, but there were only two people it needed to accommodate. The loveseat and desk could easily be pushed to the side if they needed more room. And so long as the threadbare tapestry stayed fixed to the wall, it would be fairly injury- free too. (The tapestry was rumoured to have the occasional habit of fluttering in students' eyes)
Potter shrugged as he set down his rucksack. "Guess so."
Zacharias wandered over to see what Harry Potter was setting out over the desktop. He had a neat little row of devices, some of them familiar, some of them not.
"What's all this?" Zacharias frowned, holding up one of the full-size Sneakoscopes sceptically. "Why did you bring toys along?"
Harry Potter glanced over his shoulder, green eyes irritated and leering over the top of his glasses' frames.
Zacharias felt his cheeks flush. Those eyes were so unnatural- he didn't like to be glared at with them. He put the Sneakoscope down immediately.
"Right then," Harry said. He walked around the desk slowly, surveying. "I brought these here to explain them all and why I've found them useful at some point."
Zacharias sat down on the couch, prepared for a long lecture. The loveseat was squashy and he sunk down into the right arm with little effort- and he was fairly slim! He was glad that Harry was standing up instead of seated; otherwise they would have slid together into the armrest.
And that would have been uncomfortable.
It wasn't actually so much of a Defense lesson as a bit of storytelling, of explanations and exclamations. Potter calmly went through the little devices individually with an anecdote, talking a bit about Mad Eye Moody. And then he went into how an impostor had polyjuiced himself as the ex- Auror in Zacharias' third year.
"But how do you know that?!" Zacharias found himself shouting half-way through. Harry just didn't go into the hows and whys sometimes. It was very frustrating. He acted as though he expected Zacharias to know already.
Harry slammed his fist down on the table suddenly. "Do you, or do you not, want me here?"
Zacharias shut his mouth, but Harry continued on.
"Because I'm wondering that myself! You're just sitting there, not doing anything, not caring. Do you even care about defending yourself? Do you care about the Unforgivables even? Maybe I should just talk about them- that's all anyone ever wants! 'Show me how to resist the Imperius!'" he spat harshly.
Zacharias' eyes widened. "The Imperius curse?" he asked. "You can do that?"
Harry's face immediately switched from anger to something else, his features contorting. "Well, I dunno if I could cast it, but I can resist it."
Zacharias couldn't wait for the next lesson! This was the interesting stuff he wanted to learn. If You Know Who was back, he would be using Unforgivables. Zacharias wanted to be prepared.
Harry Potter showed up early instead of late the next Sunday evening. Zacharias had barely got outside the Hufflepuff dorms to wait to let Harry in. He asked why Harry was there so early, so soon after dinner.
"Transfiguration essay to do later," he explained as they walked through to the study room swiftly. Potter was moving warily this time, as there was a group of sixth and seventh years playing a game of Exploding Snap. Zacharias reckoned Harry must have known them. His face flushed when he realized Harry must be embarrassed to be tutoring him.
"I guess we can just finish early tonight," he said tensely.
That lesson was by far the most interesting Zacharias had ever had, including the ones of Lupin's or 'Moody''s. Harry seemed rather uncomfortable with the Imperius Curse, but Zacharias pressed him on.
"I want to see it in action," he goaded after Harry explained just how the curse warped your mind.
Harry gave Zacharias a long, hard stare and he had to fight not to look away. The Gryffindor shook his head. "No," he said firmly. Sealing the matter.
Zacharias wouldn't believe Harry. He crouched down low over in the far corner of the room, by the dark wood panelling. He stuck his head under the small table there and fished around with his hand for a moment. "Look. There's a spider down here- use it."
Harry Potter still refused and Zacharias was tired of harassing him. At least for one night. "Fine," he said after Harry refused flat-out to test the curse on the spider a third time. Zacharias swung the heavy door open for the other boy to leave. "Fine then. I hope you lose against Ravenclaw next Saturday anyway!"
Harry Potter only snorted sarcastically when he left. "Sure thing."
And, of course, in the opening game of the season the following Saturday, the reinstated Gryffindor Seeker won the match for Gryffindor 240-70.
Zacharias watched the whole game intently that afternoon from the Hufflepuff stands. His team mates were all there. It was a surprisingly bright and sunny early autumn afternoon. One that made you smile at the weather for once.
However, by the end of the game, Zacharias was scowling.
"What's wrong now, Smith?" Dorny asked as he smacked Zacharias across the arm with a meaty hand. "I thought you didn't like the Gryffindor team."
"Exactly!" Zacharias snapped. That was the whole thing!
"Well," Dorny raised a dark eyebrow and waggled it, "you were never this upset about them winning before." The other students in the vicinity all sniggered. Zacharias looked at his feet, cheeks burning.
On Sunday night, there was an unexpected knock on his dorm room door.
Zacharias was lying on his stomach on his bed going over his Ancient Runes notes on Nordic consonants. He had a test that week. Ernie Macmillan let himself into the room.
"Harry Potter's at the door downstairs," he explained. "He says that he's supposed to meet you." Ernie had a strange half-smile on his face. It made Zacharias feel guilty- though he couldn't figure out why. "He's even got a present for you."
Zacharias scrunched up his forehead, a stray lock of blond hair fluttering down between his eyes in the process. He brushed it away with the back of his hand. "What?" he asked, but he followed Ernie into the common room anyway.
Sure enough, standing there, awkwardly shifting his weight from foot to foot and a box in hand, was Harry Potter. He looked quite uncomfortable talking with Susan Bones there. Zacharias was slightly pleased over this. He walked up to Harry and held his nose up. "What are you doing here?"
Harry shot him a dark look. "You wanted to be taught, right?" He shoved the box into Zacharias' arms and it jumped around. Zacharias had to lean forward to make certain he didn't drop it.
Gryffindors are a strange bunch, he thought. He nodded. "Come on, then."
Harry looked relieved and angry at the same time.
In the Skunk room, Zacharias peered into the little round hole cut in the top of the box. It was dark inside and he couldn't make out what was inside. He squinted; what he thought were a pair of eyes gleamed back. "What's this?" he asked.
Harry opened the lid and pulled a small brown dormouse out by the tail. It wriggled around, twisting and turning. "You wanted to see the Imperius Curse, right?"
Zacharias knew his eyes went wide. A big, bright hazel wide.
With a combination of fascination and morbid curiosity, Zacharias watched as Harry Potter used the curse to make the little mouse dance around the desk on its hind paws. It was disgusting that Potter had so much control over the animal- and that he knew what to do- and yet at the same time the power he radiated was alluring.
After a few minutes, Harry put away his wand; the little mouse collapsed from sheer exertion into a furry heap. "There," Harry said stiffly, sounding detached and distant. "Is that what you wanted?"
Zacharias didn't know how to respond to that. He just stared at Harry.
"When someone casts the Imperius Curse on you," he explained, "it's like you don't care what they make you do. You could dance. You could pick your nose. You could kill. A little voice in your head tells you it's alright. That you want to do it."
Words formed in Zacharias' mouth at last: "Then how do you resist it?"
Harry shrugged and looked toward the gold-embroidered tapestry. "Dunno. Will power, maybe. Practice, maybe. Something else entirely- I can't explain it."
"Teach me." Zacharias looked at the mouse; it was struggling pathetically to get up onto its paws. Completely helpless.
Was that what it had been like with You Know Who? Zacharias shuddered at the thought.
"No."
Zacharias scowled. "I want to learn how to resist it, too. Cast it on me."
"No!" Harry Potter glared, his mouth set in a thin line. "You don't know what it's like. It's.it's mind rape! No one should ever have that happen to them."
Zacharias wasn't convinced yet, despite the ominous words. "I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be brave. You're not afraid of casting it, are you?"
"It has nothing to do with that!" Harry shouted. He was so loud that Zacharias had to wonder what the other students in the common room thought they were arguing about. It could sound suspicious, especially to Hannah Abbott. "Casting an Unforgivable is-"
Zacharias' head shot up. "So you have cast them before. On people, too?"
Potter didn't say anything. His face drained of all colour, though.
"Which one was it?"
Harry Potter just put the struggling mouse back into its box gently. He closed the lid carefully. "Cruciatus," he said quietly as he exited.
Zacharias was left standing there with his mouth hanging open.
The remainder of the week, Zacharias couldn't help but think about Harry Potter casting the Cruciatus. Why wasn't he in Azkaban then? He had thought the Ministry immediately knew when Unforgivables were cast. Maybe the curse didn't work for him? Most importantly, who had been the intended recipient and when and where? Harry Potter had disappeared briefly at the end of the previous year, right before the Ministry had admitted Voldemort had returned. And Potter had been acting differently ever since about then- more bitter, more withdrawn, more cynical.
Zacharias also started to notice Harry Potter. He'd never really thought before how his eyes were such a vivid green- that maybe he didn't get so much unnerved as he did weak-kneed whenever they looked his way. How he was such a skinny person under his voluminous robes and clothes. Zacharias wanted to know what his body looked like under them.
He blushed at the thought.
Twice, Ron Weasley caught Zacharias staring at Harry in the Great Hall at dinner. Then Weasley would lean over and say something to Harry- Zacharias couldn't hear what- and Harry would turn around slowly, give Zacharias a perplexed look, and return to his meal, occasionally checking over his shoulder at the Hufflepuff table. Zacharias figured phrases like "he's so annoying", "what does the creep want?" and "he's doing it again" were exchanged.
But it wasn't until Saturday night and nearly a week of constantly thinking about Harry Potter that something really weird happened. Zacharias was asleep, dreaming.
They were in the Room of Requirement. Just the two of them. Just Harry and him. Harry was saying something, but he couldn't make the words out. Harry's lips were moving silently and he had started yelling. Zacharias shook his head. "I can't hear you. Speak louder!"
Harry banged his fist down and more angry silent words poured from his rapidly moving lips.
He shook his head. "I can't hear you. I can't. Talk louder, Harry." His own words, though, felt slurred and mumbled. "Harry. I can't hear you."
Harry stopped talking and turned his back to him. Harry didn't move and there was not even a shallow rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed. He started to worry; he grabbed Harry's shoulders and turned Harry around. Harry was pliable and bony and light, but Harry didn't even scowl when he was grabbed.
He looked at Harry. Harry's face was blank, his eyes glassy and dead.
"Harry," he mumbled, fearing the worst.
Harry's lips opened slightly, but nothing more. Growing ever more panicked, he brought his index finger up to Harry's mouth to make sure Harry could still breathe. He traced the pink lips slowly. They were still warm. There was still hope.
He didn't quite know what came over him, but his dream self had a mind of his own. He leaned in close to Harry and removed his finger slowly. He felt a shuddering sigh emerge from Harry's lips and the dead green eyes fluttered shut.
"Oh," he said, understanding. He brushed his mouth against Harry's. It felt good, such a light, feathery touch. "Harry."
Their lips touched again and the second time Zacharias tentatively moved his against Harry's. Harry didn't seem to mind because, while not moving his lips, he did push his mouth forward and opened it slowly.
He moaned. Harry did want it. He gradually opened his own mouth against Harry's own and moved his tongue out to touch Harry's lower lip, which had started to trem-
"Zacharias!"
Zacharias' eyes shot wide open and he came to with a strangled gasp. He blinked once; a pillow was thrown in his face.
"Did you have a good dream?" Mark Stone, one of his dorm mates, asked in a sing-song voice before yanking his flat pillow back.
Zacharias blinked again. Harry. Dream. Kissing. His face lit up like a glass of Firewhiskey. He tried to untangle his long legs from his sheets, but failed. Zacharias immediately shut the curtains to his bed, utterly mortified. Had they all heard?
"Mmmm.Harry.oooooh.Harry." One of the others, likely Alexander, moaned and made sloppy, wet kissing noises.
The other boys all burst out in a gale of laughter.
Zacharias wanted to crawl under a rock and shrivel up. Die, even. "It was just a dream," he mumbled, but knew his response was futile. His pyjamas, skewed and half-pulled down his hips, were caked to his body with a layer of hot sweat. There was an even wetter, warmer, more uncomfortable situation around his groin.
"Always knew he was weird, that one," David announced loudly. The other boys all laughed and disappeared for breakfast.
Zacharias wondered how he was ever going to live this one down. He wanted a memory charm badly. On himself.
Luckily, the situation wasn't as dire as Zacharias initially thought it would be. It wasn't mentioned again, for some reason; although he did receive a number of sideways glances from other Hufflepuffs when he snuck down late for breakfast.
And the other boys swore they would never shower with Zacharias again. But that was okay.
However, he also had the problem of Harry Potter and his private defense lessons. There was no way Zacharias could do them that evening. It had taken all of the guts he had (plus some Courage Potion his grandmother gave him the previous Christmas) to cringe his way through the Hufflepuff common room and head up to the Great Hall to eat at a time when the Hall was nigh empty. How on earth would he be able to face Harry Potter? He'd had a wet dream about him. And they were kissing in it!
Zacharias locked himself up in his dorm with a back issue of Martin Miggs, Mad Muggle that day. No one even bothered to disturb him until well after seven that evening. His stomach sank to an abysmal depth when he heard Ernie's cheery voice.
"Harry Potter's here again to see you."
Zacharias paled. He knew that Harry would come, yet he dreaded it all the same, He fervently hoped none of his dorm mates heard Ernie. "I'm.I'm sick," he choked out, hoping Ernie would buy his fib.
"Oh?" Ernie let himself in, eyes sweeping down Zacharias' drained and white face. "You don't look too ill to me."
"I am," he said quickly. Too quickly.
Ernie gave Zacharias a sceptical smile. "Alright then. Should I tell Harry that?"
"Yes!" Zacharias all but pleaded. Just leave me.
Ernie walked out, stopping briefly with his hand still on the doorknob. He turned to Zacharias and smiled wider. "You might want to try reading Martin Miggs right-side up next time."
* * * * *
On Monday, Zacharias caught himself staring at Harry Potter at lunch. This time it was Harry's lips. They were really soft in his dream and Zacharias wondered if they were just so in real life. They looked pink and nice and quite kissable.
He wouldn't have even noticed this until David and Liam started snickering and grinning when Harry Potter walked into the Great Hall to eat. Then Ron Weasley heard this and had to whisper something to Harry, who gave Zacharias a funny look- made even funnier by the fact he had a chunk of hair sticking out horizontally just above his ear- as though he didn't quite believe Zacharias had been sick the night before after all.
Then Zacharias' cheeks had to turn a vivid shade of red.
On Tuesday, Zacharias didn't see Harry Potter until he was returning to his dorm from an OWL prep study session in the library. Harry was coming back from Quidditch practice that evening. He looked worn, wet and mud- splattered from the rain. Zacharias couldn't help but notice how Potter's wet Quidditch robes clung to form-fit his body. He could almost see the light muscles rippling underneath the scarlet fabric. Especially around Harry's thighs and chest.
Zacharias dropped the heavy Muggle Studies text he had been carrying. It hit the flagstone floor with a loud crash. Then, his face turned pink as he bent over to pick it up and Harry Potter and Ron Weasley turned around to see where the origin of the noise was.
"Strange bloke, that one," Weasley said. "Can't figure out why Ginny sometimes hangs around him."
On Wednesday, Harry Potter accidentally brushed Zacharias' arm as he was leaving his Charms lesson and Zacharias was about to have his. It was pure chance, Zacharias told himself over and over that day, but that didn't help the fact his arm had been branded. It tingled mildly the rest of the day where Harry had touched it and Professor Flitwick had to remind Zacharias not to daydream in class.
On Thursday, Zacharias had to force himself to stare at his food, not Harry Potter, at meals. Especially since Harry was frowning his way.
Then, there was a horrid Quidditch practice, in which Zacharias couldn't help but focus on the goalposts, which reminded him of the round glasses frames Harry wore. And it was raining again.
Trudging back up to the castle from the pitch, someone loudly called out his name.
"Hey Smith! Zacharias!"
That was Harry's voice.
Zacharias felt his face flush, then drain. He shivered and sweated. His breath was short. He turned around, with some of his team mates, to see why Harry Potter was calling his name.
Zacharias' tongue went dry to boot. He nearly swallowed it. "Yes?" he managed.
Harry jogged up to him, a red umbrella swaying slightly from side to side. "You still want a lesson this Sunday? Ernie said you were sick last weekend," he said in a low voice, which seemed to attract the attention of the other players he might have been trying to avoid.
Zacharias went for nonchalance, despite the nausea building inside. He held his chin up high and turned pink in the process. He nodded once, then remembered something. "The conference rooms are all booked. Sorry."
That was convenient! Anyway, he knew that being alone with Harry Potter would just be asking for trouble.
Harry nodded, frowning a bit. "Right. And it's the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year. Unless you still want a lesson-"
"Okay!" Zacharias said before he could stop himself. "Unless.you're going."
Harry appeared to think about that. "Nah. Ron and Hermione can have some time to themselves. They need it." Then he seemed to think some more. "How big are the Hufflepuff dorms? I'd offer mine up, but Neville's going to be studying there for a Herbology quiz."
Zacharias was torn between saying "What about the Room of Requirement?" and "They're all big in Hufflepuff" and "Oh, God, yes- No!". He ended up mumbling "Okay" before walking off as fast as he could without it being terribly obvious.
Plus, he was beginning to get an erection that he'd rather Harry not notice.
On Friday, Zacharias was on his way up to the Great Hall for breakfast carrying his books in his arms because he'd slept late and one of the other boys had hidden his rucksack. Harry Potter and his two friends were just leaving the Hall; Zacharias had to go and notice him. Then he had to go and notice Harry's hands. They looked callused and rough and thin and kinda big. The sort Zacharias wouldn't mind on his own waist. Then he had to go and imagine what it would be like to have those hands on his waist- would they grip possessively or hold lightly? Would they be warm or cool? Would Harry look-
SPLAT!
Zacharias didn't know exactly what had happened until he peeled his face off the top step of the stairs he had been ascending. A first year Slytherin girl slinking past laughed at him. Ron Weasley made another grimace that looked quite pleased at the same time. Harry Potter frowned at Zacharias, as he often seemed apt to do.
Getting up shakily, Zacharias bent back down to retrieve his scattered textbooks and parchments, when Harry Potter swooped down and did it for him.
"Here," Harry said as he handed the books one by one to Zacharias.
Zacharias' cheeks sported pink flushes by now and he knew Harry had seen it. "Thanks," he muttered, hoping Harry would leave soon.
Harry gave him a nod. "Don't worry about it. I'll see you Sunday, then." He gave a little smile.
As Ron and Harry and Hermione Granger walked away, Zacharias could hear Ron saying loudly, purposely, "Next he'll think you're his friend Harry! That kid annoys me."
Zacharias had never felt so elated than when he heard Harry reply, "I don't mind him much, actually."
With the passing of Saturday, a ball of nervousness and dread knotted and then grew in Zacharias' chest. He told himself to keep acting normally, that it was normal to have someone you dreamed about being alone with in your dorm.
But when he woke up Sunday morning, he could hardly function. Breakfast was a lost cause. He knew, subconsciously, that he would be in the shower longer than normal that morning even though nothing was going to happen. Nothing. He was just going to learn more of his defense stuff. Zacharias waited until his other roommates had all left to go line up for Hogsmeade before even attempting to crawl out of bed. His skin felt clammy and moist. For once when thinking about Harry he wasn't the shade of a ripe tomato. No, now he was a snowcone.
By the time Zacharias had got into the showers, a scant minute or two after getting up, he was already about to come. He was so hard. His balls contracted as he slipped off his pyjama bottoms and went under the hot spray of water. Three strokes and a mental image of messy hair and green eyes later and his back arched against the shower tiles. Cock in fist, pumping and coming at once. Zacharias even allowed himself a strangled "Harry!" that morning in hopes of calming his nerves.
Besides, no one else was around.
But as he dressed, he thought of those callused, Seeker's hands. He wished they'd catch him. As he combed his blond hair, he thought of those full, pink-hued lips. As he brushed his teeth, he thought of those thin legs, that slim arse, those crooked glasses, those-
"Zacharias? Is that your name?"
Zacharias' head shot around. He had been sitting in a low chair by his bed, not doing anything, but nonetheless his leg shook worse than a Death Eater facing a Dementor. His stomach was twisted like he had had too much Pepper- Up potion and his cock was hard again.
"That's me," he said warily to the second year boy who had wandered into his room. He hoped the kid had a good reason for bothering him.
"Harry Potter's in the common room. Charlotte let him in so he could sign an autograph for her, but he said he's supposed to meet you."
Zacharias' insides completely withered. He lost what remaining colour was in his face. What was Harry Potter doing there now? It couldn't be that late! It was too early to be meeting-
"Er.aren't you going to go meet him or something?" the boy asked.
Zacharias nodded blankly. He walked behind the second year numbly to the common room. He couldn't think. He could hardly breathe. He didn't have enough time to prepare. He prepared too much. Would Harry notice? Would Harry not notice? Would-
Harry didn't notice Zacharias' silence or his paleness. "I remembered some stuff last night that I reckoned you'd like to learn. So I thought I'd show you today instead, if you like. It takes a little while to set up, though."
Zacharias swallowed. His throat was so dry. "Sure," he croaked, and led the way to his dorm.
When he entered Zacharias' dorm, Harry didn't stare uncomfortably like he had when he entered the Hufflepuff common room for the first time those few weeks ago. He did pause a moment at the large, pointed-arched coloured window panel on the wall opposite the five beds.
Zacharias sat back in his chair first thing. Standing made his legs wobble. And robes hid a lot, but they didn't conceal everything he needed them to at the present. He shifted around in the chair to try to arrange his robes.
Harry pulled a strange metallic object out of his bag. "Does that window open at all?" He squinted his eyes at the ledge. "I can't see a crank."
Zacharias blinked. Why would Harry need the window open? But he'd rather the Gryffindor focus on setting up his bizarre contraption. "Defenestrus!" He flicked his wand at the window and it opened a good two feet, no crank needed.
"Good." Harry lugged his metallic box, which was black on one side, over to the window and perched it on the stone ledge precariously. "A friend- another Auror- told me about this in the summer. I thought it'd be cool to try. And it's supposed to be pretty sunny this afternoon, so it should work better now than later tonight."
"Sure," Zacharias said tensely, not really understanding. An icy sweat was starting to drip down his forehead. His hands gripped the puffy armchair he sat in tight enough to leave permanent dents in the fading fabric.
Before Zacharias knew what the other boy was doing, Harry Potter had dropped the glass rod he had been inserting into the metallic box and stomped over to the Hufflepuff.
"Look- what is your problem?" he shouted. Zacharias closed his eyes and cringed. He tried to sink lower into the chair. "You've been acting all weird today- this week! I thought you wanted to learn Defense more." Harry threw his arms up in the air in frustration.
"I do." Zacharias protested meekly.
"Then what's wrong with you? Are you sick again? I can call it off today if that's what you want."
"No!" he insisted, "I'm fine."
Harry didn't seem convinced. "All you've done is sit in that chair and sweat. I may have glasses, but I'm not blind."
Zacharias gulped. Harry had got too close. Leaned in too close. Far too close. All he could see were those wide, ethereal green eyes. All he could smell was that earthy, musky, slightly salty and sweet scent that he immediately identified as 'Harry Potter'. All he could feel was that warm breath and feel those lips on his own.
On his own!?!
Zacharias' eyes went huge. "Wha-" he began, but it was cut short when Harry's mouth got in the way. It was soft and moist and warm, just like he had imagined, but it was even better real. He could feel the blood pulsing below the surface and the little dent on the upper side as well and they were slightly minty and slightly sticky and sweet.
The touch was fleeting and brief. Hardly there and yet still a scorching burn.
Then it was gone.
Harry backed up one step, two, then looked away. "Sorry," he murmured unapologetically, "shouldn't have done that."
Then Zacharias realized what had just happened. We kissed. Harry Potter and I kissed. His heart leapt and then sunk back down as Harry frowned and pursed his lips, wiping them with the drooping sleeve of his robe as though poison had touched them.
"You're.sorry?" Zacharias didn't believe his ears.
Harry's head whipped around and his glasses slid down his nose. "Yeah. Obviously I got the wrong impression this week," he said bitterly.
Zacharias sat stunned in his chair for a moment. The, with a deciding factor, he stood up and strode over to Harry. He grabbed the Gryffindor by the shoulder and spun him around, just like in the dream. "No, you didn't," he said before he had time to realize just what had slipped from his mouth. Which he promptly shut. Then he froze on the spot. What do I do next? He didn't have a clue.
"No?" Harry leaned a little closer, into Zacharias' arm and Zacharias noticed he was just a little taller than the other boy.
"No," Zacharias maintained firmly, consciously playing at the hem of Harry's tattered robe.
"Good."
And Harry Potter kissed him a second time.
This one was better than the first, because both knew a little more of what it was. Harry's mouth moved against Zacharias', which opened on its own when he felt something wet and sorta silky poke at his lips. Then there was a tongue tentatively sliding along his own; Zacharias thought it was a pretty good feeling, so he tilted his head a little more to the left to get in closer.
Harry pressed more firmly, more deeply, more fast, tongue rippling and roving in Zacharias' mouth. Zacharias thought he might have to moan, but Harry's hand lightly placed itself in the middle of his back and he did moan out.
That made Harry pull him in tightly and push his lips harder against Zacharias before he pulled away, panting shallowly.
They were half-holding each other in an awkward position- Harry partly standing, partly smooching Zacharias into the chair. He took Zacharias' hand gently and they sat down on the nearest- Zacharias'- bed.
Harry smiled an almost cocky half-smile, lips redder and more swollen than they had been earlier and Zacharias couldn't help but think I did that.
"I suppose we'd better get back to the Defense lesson, then?"
Zacharias actually glared. "No!" They'd just kissed and Harry Potter was wanting to get back to teaching Defense lessons?
"But," Harry shook his head ruefully, "I thought you wanted to learn Defense strategies, not." He waved his hand around, between the two of them.
Zacharias smiled. "I do," he said honestly. He shifted over a little closer to Harry, into his territory and his smile grew when Harry sat his ground. Purposely taking the two warm, rough hands in his own, he placed one on either side of his hips and let go, leaving Harry's hands lightly gripping his waist.
Green eyes looked up into his own plain brown ones. Sparks nearly flew and the room started to fade, leaving only the two of them.
"But," Zacharias smiled as he leaned over to meet those lips, "I want to learn this, too."
Author's Notes: First off, a big thanks should go to my beta Berne who did a fab job tweaking what I had to make it that much more of what it could be. *glomps*
And another thanks should go to my Livejournal Friends who commented on this fic when it was in the works. I loved what they had to say!
I wrote this fic for two reasons: One, to prove to myself that there could be a Harry/Zacharias fic where Zacharias wasn't characterized as simply a 'DracoLite', and two, just the fact that I wanted to show myself I can write a Harry/Zacharias fic that works.
I can only hope I have achieved both.
Your feedback is the nectar of the gods.