Warnings: Wanking. Mentions of adolescent boy issues.


III

When Harry awoke the following morning, the sun was already streaming in through the slats in the window dressing. He rubbed his eyes sleepily and reached over to the bedside table for his glasses. On the way, his hand brushed a piece of parchment. He snagged it and shoved his glasses on his face.

It turned out to be a note from Hermione saying that she'd gone without him to the hospital. She planned to return around eleven-thirty, and she would collect him then. The tone of the note suggested that she thought it best for him to get rest; she probably remembered his nighttime waking and believed that he was having unpleasant dreams. He felt himself flush as he recalled a vastly different kind of dream than she obviously had in mind.

The memory of the dream brought both a mild ache in his cock followed by a flood of embarrassment. He knew he was going to have to deal with it at some point; he decided to get it over with. Casting a hasty tempus charm, he saw that it was only a few minutes past nine. He couldn't decide whether he was relieved or not that he had plenty of time alone to think.

He considered the dream. To his knowledge, he'd never had such vivid dreams about other men before. When he thought about it, he realised he'd never had dreams of that nature about women, either. Certainly he'd dreamed of Ginny, but those had all been comparatively innocent. His only fear had been that Ron would discover he subconsciously wanted to kiss her. He recalled waking up sticky now and again, but he never actually remembered what brought it on—only the feeling, right before waking, of intense pleasure or sometimes merely the sensation of relieving himself. It wasn't something he'd ever talked about with anyone; after all, who would he have talked to? There was an unspoken rule that no one mentioned it; everyone just dealt with his own. Charms to clean oneself were among the first thing the older boys passed on to the younger ones, though usually without much accompanying information.

Naturally, he'd done his fair share of wanking, usually in the shower where it would make significantly less mess. Those were nearly always a quick morning release which didn't require much thought. It struck him that of the few times he'd been alone someplace comfortable—the Dursleys' while they were out for the day, for example—he had taken his time, but he hadn't created any elaborate fantasies. He'd convinced himself that it would be wrong to imagine Ginny that way, and it had never occurred to him to picture any other girls he knew. His face heated, however, at the memory of wondering what it would be like to have another boy put his mouth or hands on him. He'd worked hard to avoid thinking about anything else, though he was fairly certain he knew what two men could get up to. At the time, he'd convinced himself that all boys thought about those things. Now he wasn't so sure.

While he considered all this, he had unconsciously begun sliding his hand over his clothed dick and was now more than half-hard. When he realised what he was doing, he didn't stop. Instead, he applied more pressure. Determined to see where this went, he let his mind wander back to the dream, back to being slowly touched by someone else. Someone decidedly not feminine. He groaned softly.

When he couldn't stand it anymore, he slid his hand inside his pyjamas and pants. He traced his fingers up and down, hissing through his teeth a little. At last, he pushed his clothing down to his ankles and threw back the bed covers. With one hand, he gently teased, sliding it along the shaft. With the other, he slipped his hand so that he could rub at his balls. Curiosity as well as the actions of the men in his dream got to him, and he slid his fingers down further to touch lightly behind his sac. Slowly, feeling a creeping almost-shame about what he was doing, he placed one finger between his cheeks, simultaneously spreading his legs. He was too embarrassed to actually insert a digit, but he brushed against his hole, wondering what it would feel like.

He wrapped his hand around his now fully erect cock and began to move with increasing speed, still keeping his other hand much lower and his mind on what the dream-men were doing. He imagined that the fair-haired man was sliding his erection between Harry's cheeks, brushing against him the same way he was doing to himself, moaning. The anticipation was almost unbearable. He felt the prickle begin in his spine and work its way down, wrapping around his arse and making his balls tighten and tingle. Almost without warning, he came, choking back a grunt of pleasure as he coated his hand. He continued to stroke more slowly, through the aftershocks, his hips moving slightly. At last he lay still, breathing rapidly.

"Shit," he whispered.

Freeing his imagination had just led to one of the most intensely pleasurable self-exploratory experiences of his life. There was no denying that he found men—and the idea of sex with men—far more arousing than anything he'd ever thought about with women. He had the answer to his own unasked question about his sexuality now. The only difficulty would be in explaining it to everyone else—especially Ginny.


Harry passed the next two hours waiting for Hermione to return by trying not to think. It didn't work; his mind constantly returned to questioning himself and his own feelings. He supposed he could forgive himself for not realising sooner; after all, he'd had a world to save. Now that he had the freedom to concentrate on something other than defeating a Dark Lord, everything bubbled to the surface—all the times before that he'd noticed men or other boys and found them attractive, and the fact that he hadn't ever felt comfortable with girls at all. He'd assumed it was due to being a bit behind the other boys, which had been embarrassing at the time but not life-changing.

He thought he probably should've known, but even if he had, there wouldn't have been anyone to talk to. There still wasn't; he couldn't think of a single person who might be of help in sorting things out. He knew he had to tell Ginny that he didn't want to start their relationship again, but other than that, he didn't want anyone else to know. He didn't even want to tell Hermione, which meant he had to find a way to cover for his growing anxiety. He put it out of his mind as best he could, hoping she wouldn't notice anything was wrong.

She didn't. When she returned, she had news. Her parents were making rapid progress, and within a week, they could safely be moved from staying at the hospital to returning to their home. They would need to continue treatment for some time to come, but they had been given the choice of returning to England after they were released or remaining in Sydney. They chose to stay, as they had built new lives for themselves.

Their decision was hard on Hermione. She was torn between wanting to beg them to come back with her and knowing that it wouldn't matter either way. Her life was within the Wizarding community now, but she had hoped she could straddle both worlds. She knew that wasn't entirely possible, but she had still wanted to try. She'd expected that she would one day be able to bring her own children to see their grandparents and learn more about their Muggle heritage.

Harry had no experience to offer her. He'd had no contact at all with the Dursleys since the war ended. He didn't care what Vernon and Petunia were doing, though he had wondered about Dudley. Despite that, he had no plans to find any of them or contact them in any way. He also had no idea what it was like to have other extended Muggle family. He knew his mother's parents had been proud and happy to discover their daughter was a witch, but as they were dead, he'd never known what it was like to be the grandson of Muggles, either. On those points—maintaining contact with Muggle parents and raising magical children with Muggle grandparents—he could be of no help to Hermione.

In the end, she opted to remain with them for the rest of their hospital stay and then take the time before the summer term at Hogwarts to tie up lose ends with her parents. After that, she would be fully immersed in the Wizarding world. Perhaps one day her parents might return to England, but until then, she would stay in touch with them the best she could. At least they knew how to use owl post.

Harry stayed with her for the remainder of the week and offered to extend his time there until the trials, but Hermione said it wasn't necessary. Sensing that she mostly just needed time alone with her parents, he returned home. Fortunately, he had the trials to take his mind off his own troubles, followed by just enough time to pack for the summer term. With any luck, he could work out how he was going to talk to Ginny before he actually had to see her.