Name: Pure Essence
Author: Rosco2005
Rating: M
Category: Romance
Pairing (s): Harry/ Ron
Summary: HPxRW, Slash- After a Quidditch game, Harry confronts feelings he never thought he had toward his best friend. Ron, of course, having faced the music long concerning his own feelings toward his best friend, has no problem with helping Harry along with his journey…with more things than his mind. With both heading toward a deserted locker room and Harry rapidly losing the battle with his feelings as well as his hormones, what could obviously be the outcome?
A/N: (02/20/07) A litte over a year's time has passed. It doesn't even seem that long, does it? I remember that I had said that the next chapter to this story,' Pure Essence', as well as Chapter Seven to my story 'Shattered Illusions' would have been up within a couple of weeks of putting up this story. Well, I guess times have changed...
I'm suffering from severe writer's block and it's probably going to be weeks before new chapters are posted on any of my stories, here or on FictionPress. I really apologize for leaving all of you hanging. For those of you who are still with me, I'm going to try my best to resume writing. For those who have truly lost their patience and can't take the suspense anymore, again I apologize and I hope that you'll read my stuff again. As usual, please read and review. Thanks.
Disclaimer; None of the Harry Potter characters, places where the books are held, or even the underlying plot belong to me. They belong to the genius (LOL…thank God she created the HP world…it's relieved me out of hours of boredom) J.K. Rowling and are distributed, in the United States, at least, by Scholastic Press, a division of Scholastic Inc. Since I have taken the time to write a disclaimer to this story, there's no reason to sue me.
Chapter One: Locker Room Recollections of Quidditch
Harry James Potter, newly appointed Gryffindor Quidditch Team Captain, hunched his shoulders and braced his hands against the wall as he stood under the reviving hot water of one of the many shower stalls that dotted the walls of Gryffindor's locker room. He, along with the rest of the team, was fresh off of a narrowly won victory against Slytherin. Since Draco Malfoy was their new Captain (although for the life of him, Harry couldn't figure out how he managed to pull it off), they tried every trick in the book, including blatant cheating, in order to try and defeat Gryffindor.
It didn't work. If I hadn't watched Ron block that Quaffle from Slytherin's new Chaser, a. sixth year called Alexis Belletrist, then I wouldn't have noticed the Snitch fly right past my line of sight,' Harry thought to himself as he recalled the exact circumstances of the win. ' It was like it was timed or something…he throws the ball clear over my head, dipping and speeding I go on my quest to grab the Snitch, and then all of a sudden, it's there, twirling madly in the grip of my hand…
It just happened all so suddenly….
---------------------------------
An hour prior…
" GO…GO, GRYFFINDOR! GO…GO, GRYFFINDOR!"
There was madness in the stands as the battle between Gryffindor and Slytherin heated up. As it now stood, both teams were tied up, which of course, was total lunacy to their individual Houses. Since Slytherin was now in possession, thanks to their usual technique of secretly cheating, all they needed was to get a Quaffle into one of their hoops and then somehow, someway, get past Harry in order to swipe the Snitch.
" Here's comes Rayson Mitchell with the Quaffle, for Slytherin," the new Quidditch commentator, fifth year Gryffindor Michael Legacy, yelled into the microphone, " He's rather new to the whole Quidditch thing and I can't help but wonder why Captain Malfoy decided to put this newbie in…maybe's he 's hoping for a bit of beginners' luck…OHHHHHHHHHHH, I take that back, he just got mopped by the Gryffindor 'Enforcers'. Bad luck, mate…"
Harry smiled at the nickname. The 'Enforcers' were actually two mild-mannered sixth years, fraternal twins Susanna and Miles McGregor. As a matter of fact, they didn't even seem like the Quidditch playing types; they were relatively small, lanky people, all limbs and legs and some Quidditch players they faced didn't see how they were supposed to be fazed by the pair of them. But they soon found out that the both of them were like rabid dogs out on the field; they would not let up on someone unless they were crying or screaming for mercy. To Harry, their addition to the Gryffindor House team was exactly what they needed.
'Was that the Snitch-?"
Harry snapped out of his thoughts and pelted headlong through the crowd after the runaway Snitch. It seemed as though Malfoy had the same idea because he went flying after the Snitch also. Harry flattened his body against the handle of his broom in a effort to gain some dearly needed speed and he barely managed to inch past Malfoy, who should have, if he were truly a excellent flier, captured the tiny ball by now. They both drew closer and closer to the Snitch, each wishing to God that the other would befall some type of calamity that would cause them to miss…
In a last-ditch effort, he slammed himself into Malfoy in order to throw him off course. He spared no thought for himself; he knew good and well that he would be able to pull out of it with no problem whatsoever while Malfoy struggled to get himself back on track. It worked like a charm…he had slammed into Malfoy so hard that he was forced to make a looping U-turn... away from the Snitch…in order to regain control.
Harry had, of course, taken advantage of the fact and since no one had seen what was supposed to have been a penalty, he continued on his mad race for the ball. Faster than someone could say ' Quidditch finale', Harry had caught up to the Snitch, which was now on the Slytherin side of the field, and was about to execute one of his original 'dive, swipe, and win' moves when suddenly…WHAM!
In one of the foulest moves ever committed by Slytherin throughout the whole game, their Beaters, Jamie Branson and Richard Keyes, practically aimed their clubs at Harry's midsection and head. With the amount of force they put into it, it's a wonder they didn't knock him clear off of his broom. It was a close call, though.
He tipped over, gasping for breath, and with one hand, barely held on to the one thing that was keeping him in the air. Trying in vain to shake off the headache that was sure to turn into a major one later on, he climbed back onto the Firebolt and peered through the crowd for any sign of the Snitch. It was no use; it had disappeared again and Slytherin had accomplished what they set out to do, stop Harry before he caught the Snitch.
" After that rather obvious attack on Gryffindor Seeker Harry Potter by the Slytherin Beaters," Michael announced, sounding like he was tempted to lose all control and start cursing up a blue streak, " Gryffindor is awarded the penalty. Ginny Weasley will take it and…thump, thump…ohhhhh, it's barely blocked by Slytherin Keeper Elaine Thomas. You have to be faster than that, Ginny…oh, well, Slytherin back in possession and the Quaffle's being carried up field by Alexis Belletrist…"
The cheers from the Slytherin supporters steadily grew louder and louder as Alexis drew closer and closer to her goal, undeterred by the Bludgers flying around or anything else for that matter. As Harry watched, Ron's whole body language changed; he seemed to tense up and freeze as if he was frightened of Alexis or what was about to occur. Harry tried not to curse; he knew good and well that Ron wouldn't purposely lose the game but by all appearances, that was exactly what was going to happen.
"Come on, Ron…don't let her get this…don't let the Quaffle in…" Harry thought to himself as he flew closer to the action. Ever since the Slytherin Beaters stopped him, he had yet to see a sign of the Snitch and therefore, didn't see any harm in stopping his constant search, at least for a moment.
"Don't freeze now, Ron,' Michael screamed into the microphone, "Don't let these Slytherin snakes beat you! I mean, come on now, she's a freaking amateur. You're really going to stand there and let a girl clown you in front of everybody in this school!" It was a measure on how much everyone was focused on the action when neither Professor McGonagall nor any other teacher said anything to him about what he had just said.
"Come on, Ron…"
It was like a scene straight out of a movie. Alexis, a mere six feet from the hoops, figured that since Ron seemed to be in some type of trance, now would be a good as time as any to attempt to score. And that she did…with an impressive amount of force, she threw the ball as hard as she could and everybody watched with bated breath to see whether or not Slytherin would steal this point. Closer and closer, it got to the hoops…
"Ron…" Harry moaned silently, horrified at how badly Ron would let the team down if he didn't do anything. He would have no choice but to ream him out for his foolishness (he truly despised arguing with Ron, way more than he did with Hermione) and their friendship would have suffered a blow because now, he would think (however, stupidly; Ron, of course, had been there for him since Day One of him arriving to Hogwarts) that he couldn't depend on Ron for anything, "How could you do this to your team…to me?"
Almost as if he had heard him, life seemed to flow back into Ron's body and in a truly beautiful move, he practically threw himself off of his broom and limbs stretched out the whole while, snatched the Quaffle out of the air, seconds before it would have sailed through the middle hoop. Muted screams were heard from the crowd when it seemed as though Ron would plummet to the ground but in another move completely unlike him, he threw out the arm not occupied by the Quaffle, grabbed the broom (which by the way, only stayed in the air because his feet were still hooked onto it), and vaulted right back onto it.
A joyful smile stretched across Harry's face as the reality of it all settled back into his stunned brain. It was as that moment when he realized that he shouldn't have doubted Ron in the first place; he should have know that he wouldn't intentionally hurt him to that kind of degree. As he watched Ron floating there, his eyes flashing in obvious pleasure, Harry was surprised at the depth of emotion that suddenly filled him…contentment, happiness…and when suddenly, Ron turned his beautiful eyes on Harry and gave him an almost jubilant smile, his stomach plummeted when he thought of the other emotion he was feeling toward his best friend…deep, intense desire. It was almost all he could do not to scream in horror…or purr in pleasure and fly as far away from him as possible…to either escape his confusing feelings or for once in his life, actually confront them.
" I don't know whether Weasley did that on purpose to fool everyone or whether it was a complete accident," Michael yelled into the microphone over Gryffindor's loud, excited screams, ' but all I know is that Gryffindor has a chance to win this game. All Potter has to do is catch the Snitch before 1). Slytherin has another chance to score and Captain Malfoy manages to swipe the Snitch or 2). Captain Malfoy just snatches the Snitch out of midair, anyway. Come on, Gryffindor, we can do this…"
Ron flashed Harry another smile and in one fluid motion, chucked the ball right back into play, so that Madam Hooch wouldn't say anything and award Slytherin a penalty. For a moment, Harry was too distracted by Ron to even process the fact that the ball was at that moment, flying toward both one of the Gryffindor Chasers and one of Slytherin's.
From his vantage point, he could just see the play of light along his bright red hair and illuminate the dusting of freckles on his lightly tanned, smiling face. As much as he tried not to, though, he also noticed the play of muscles underneath his shirt as he rotated his shoulders and the way his thigh muscles tightened against the broom as he struggled to keep his broom steady.
Harry pulled in a deep, reassuring breath and shook his head. "What's wrong with me?" Harry thought to himself as he absentmindedly watched Ron and renewed his search for the Snitch. "All of a sudden, I find myself noticing that Ron is attractive…no…frigging gorgeous. It's not the fact that he's a boy that alarms me so much…I have no problem admitting to myself that I'm bisexual…it's just that he's my best friend. I've never had a romantic inclination toward him a day in my life…why now, all of a sudden?"
Cheers erupted from one side of the stadium and groans were heard from the other when the Quaffle landed in the Slytherin's Chaser's hands from across the field. Nobody was quite sure how it ended up there but it did…they just chalked it up to Slytherin's usual cheating. The Chaser had made a move to start zooming right back toward Ron's general direction when suddenly, something happened that caused yet another smile to break out across Harry's face. He could see the Snitch…and it was hovering directly between the hovering Chaser and Ron!
" Obviously, everyone hade just seen what had just transpired between the two teams so there's no need to me to go over it, ' Michael muttered into the microphone in a bored, nonchalant voice, " I may as well just tell you the score as stands is both teams are tied at 150…as much as I hate that fact, there's nothing I can say besides that I hope Malfoy or Potter get off their behinds and do something to finish this game before we die of boredom…wait a second, what is Potter doing? Either he has a death wish…or he sees the Snitch!"
He didn't know what possessed him to attempt such a reckless act but here he was, making a beeline toward an astonished, advancing Chaser and half of the Slytherin Quidditch team. Mentally, he was hoping that the Chaser would have some sense and move out of his way but physically, he was bracing for the blow of a lifetime. Even if his 'Enforcers' aimed every Bludger they could at the Slytherins and the rest of the team tried in one form or another to protect him, he could still end up totally plastered. He wasn't too worried, though, he had a game to win and he would do anything, even sacrifice himself, to win it.
" Harry Potter, Gryffindor Team Captain and Brittany Johnson, a Chaser for Slytherin are on a collision course," Michael yelled into the microphone, effectively yanking everybody's attention back to the game, " Potter must see the Snitch because there's no way in the world he would be foolish enough to go head on against the Slytherin line, when he knows that everyone of them hates his guts. One of them is going to get plastered…will it be Potter or will it be Johnson? Johnson, swallow your pride and move out of his way before you get railroaded by that Firebolt…"
Five…four…three…two…the chants from the crowd threatened to break Harry's concentration but he focused on the task at hand. Grimly, he finally realized that the Chaser had more brains than sense and he braced himself for impact. He was surprised that the Snitch had yet to move away, instead always managing to stay directly between him and the Chaser, as if it wanted them to crash into one another. ' This is it…this is it," Harry thought to himself, letting go of the broom with one hand and hoping to God that he could just snatch the Snitch with one swipe, " It's about to be all over…"
Then, the unthinkable happened. The Snitch abruptly flew straight up and Harry was forced to grab his broom again and make a sharp change in direction. Pulling upward on his broom as hard as he could, he barely pulled himself clear of Johnson's head and yanked hard on the broom to steady himself before he tumbled off of it. After stopping for a moment to process the fact that they hadn't indeed crashed, the Chaser continued on her race for the hoops while Harry continued on somewhat of a sharp angle to capture the Snitch. Excited yells were heard from the crowd as they watched their individual Housemates try their hardest to complete their goal.
"Everyone has just seen what I have just seen. Potter and Johnson didn't crash…I repeat, didn't crash but now, the race is on to see who can score first. If Johnson gets past Weasley, like Belletrist failed to do, and scores before Potter captures the Snitch, then the game continues for at least ten more minutes because of the fact that Malfoy is on Potter's tail even as I speak and he needs time to get Malfoy away from him. If Potter captures the Snitch…then Gryffindor wins and we are a step closer to heading to the Quidditch Final. Who will it be…Potter or Johnson? Come on, don't keep us in suspense here…"
Harry could hear Malfoy grunting from behind him as he struggled to keep up with him. He wasn't going to waste time trying to dip and dive away from him; all that would accomplish is the Snitch possibly getting away from him and Malfoy having a 50/50 chance of getting it and winning the game. He just pulled in a deep breath and kept his eye on the Snitch. He was gaining on it…he was close…one good grab and it would all be over. Gryffindor would win…He held on to the broom with one hand and reached for the hovering ball…one good grab before it moved…
" I guess Johnson must have gotten desperate because after a missed Bludger attack from the Gryffindor 'Enforcers', she has decided to try to score from a good twelve feet away from the hoops. The only reason it might work is that Weasley could be totally surprised from the sheer lunacy of the action but for some reason, I really doubt it." Michael yelled into the microphone, "Weasley, block that Quaffle and Potter, grab that Snitch!"
Excited screams were once again heard from the crowd when yet in other beautiful move, Ron blocked the Quaffle from flying through the middle hoop, once again. A joyful smile spread across his face as he thought about the ecstatic state his best friend must have been in, having saved the game twice in truly beautiful moves. 'He's about to be even happier now…thanks to me,' Harry thought to himself. Since him and Malfoy were now side by side and reaching for the ball, he figured there would be no harm in what he was about to do. He smacked Malfoy's hand out of the way, put on a burst of speed, reached for it once again…and finally grabbed it! The Snitch fluttered madly in his hands as he turned back toward the rest of the players…
It was only when he held up his hand in joyous victory when the crowd finally knew…and accordingly, burst in festive screams. "Gryffindor's done it. Gryffindor done it…we've won the game! After a couple of close shaves and people biting their teeth in worry, Gryffindor has won the game with a final score of 300-150," Michael announced, trying his hardest to be heard over the screaming Gryffindor supporters, "We've might not have won this game without the superb playing skills of Potter and in one of the most surprising transformations of the year, Ronald Weasley. Keep up the good work, guys, and lead us to future victories…"
The Slytherin players had long since descended back down to Earth but the Gryffindor players were still on their victory lap, minus two players. At that moment, Harry was flying lazily toward Ron, whom was just hovering in the air, as though he had nothing else to do. For a brief moment, Harry had the insane thought that Ron was waiting for him but then, he just shook it off. "He doesn't have feelings like that toward me," Harry thought, flying steadily closer, "There's no way…I just realized my own feelings…there's no way…"
"Harry, wasn't this game absolutely ridiculous?" Ron asked, with a bright grin as Harry pulled to a stop next to him, " I mean, you almost got crunched by that Slytherin Chaser and half the Slytherin line was on your tail at one point. Malfoy, of course, wasn't helping the case with constantly cheating his behind off. We got lucky today…"
" Lucky had nothing to do with it," Harry said, resisting the urge to reach out and touch his smiling face, just to feel the total delight that Ron was barely keeping in check, " You performed well today, man. That dive of your broom, just to swipe that Quaffle out of the air, was practically a work of genius. I thought that you were going to hit the ground, for sure…"
Ron flushed a bright red at the praise and let out a brief chuckle. Harry smiled in return but then, suddenly, Ron's face seemed to take on a serious tone. It wasn't often that he was the serious one…his eyes always seemed to carry that easy-going, carefree attitude that Harry so relied on…but right then, he was and Harry was getting slightly nervous…as well as slightly turned-on. "Oh, great, now I'm a freaking perv. He's being as serious as I've ever seen him…and I'm getting hard because of their unrelenting intensity being focused on me. How pathetic can I get?" Harry thought to himself.
"Is anything wrong, Ron?" Harry muttered. It was a shame that it came out as more of a croak than anything else but it seemed as though his brains were scrambled. It was way too disconcerting to have Ron's gaze focused on him so intently…it was though he was looking for something…something that Harry wasn't willing to tell him.
Harry had to hold back a murmur of surprise as Ron's gaze dropped to his lips with an almost animalistic hunger and then back up to his eyes again. "There's no way, there's no way…" he thought, frantically. " Oh, God, there's no way…"
"Harry…"
"Guys…guys, it's time to go."
Both Ron and Harry snapped out of their daze and looked down at Ginny, whom was staring at the pair of them as though they had lost their minds. "Would you fools come on…the stadium is clearing out, as you can see, and we have a party in about two hours. This is no time to be daydreaming." Ginny said, one hand holding her broom steady while the other was resting on her hip in classic Weasley fashion as she glared up at the pair of them.
"Hold your horses, Ginny." Ron said, with a small smile on his face. "I'm coming." He turned to look directly at Harry once more, with the same hunger blazing in his eyes. Harry's breath caught in his throat as he stared at him…probably reading way more into the look that was called for. "I'm so dead…" Harry thought, frantically, as he clutched his broom hard enough to start cracking it. "I'll see you back in common room, Harry." Ron practically growled, licking his lips. Harry, of course, had to hold back an aroused moan in turn…if he wasn't careful, Ginny, as well, as anybody else within range, was going to see him act the complete fool.
He watched as the Weasley siblings sped down to the ground, thanking God that he was alone, least for now. He had to have some time to get himself under control. He couldn't go back to Gryffindor Tower with an erection the size of a pole…there was no power on Earth that could help Harry to hide his obvious reaction to whatever signals, however fake or real, that Ron was throwing out. "I must be deluding myself…there's no way that Ron likes me that way. He's as straight as a yardstick…he's dated every girl he could get his hands on…and he's still trying to date Hermione. Yeah, he's not interested in me…he's just my best friend."
"But just in case…just try to stay away from him." Harry said, shaking his head as he headed on down to the ground. "It's for the best…"
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A soft groan slipped out of his mouth as he braced himself again the shower wall. Taking a brisk jog around the huge stadium, throwing himself into every bit of exercise he could, dragging himself into a much-awaited hot shower and then abruptly changing it to icy cold didn't help whatsoever. He was still viciously aroused…the urgency to do something about it…anything was starting to become way too much for Harry to handle. Yes, of course, he was a normal male and yes, he had problems like these before but never to this ridiculous extent. It was like he was growing way too big for his body to handle…he didn't have a handle on himself.
"And it's all Ron's fault. With his eyes, his personality...oh, my freaking God, I can't take this…his body. With the sleek muscles everywhere on his body with the passionate eyes to match, it's driving me crazy imagining him. Before today, I never had a romantic inclination toward him and now, I can't stop thinking about him…thinking about whether he's a moaner or a screamer…thinking about whether his eyes go an even darker shade when he finally lets go of his inhibitions…wondering whether he prefers to be on top or on the bottom…forcing the rhythm or just going along with the flow. Oh, God, I can't take this anymore…oh, yes…
Breathing heavily through his mouth, nipping his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, he tried his damnest to hold back a jagged moan as he braced a hand against the wall and let the other, as soapy as it was, travel further down his slick body, only to wrap itself around his straining erection. At first contact, his body surged hard enough that he almost spilled himself into a sated heap on the spot. But he barely prevented it…gasping slightly, he tightened his grip and stroked heavily. "Ron…oh, God…Ron…" Harry gasped, feeling his vision blur as his climax inched steadily closer.
How I wish this was him…how I wish that he was on his knees before me, making me pant and shatter into a million pieces with every move that he made. I wouldn't even care if I was the one returning the favor…driving him out of his mind…making him part of me wit every groan that could fly out of his mouth. As long as we are together…I don't give a flying damn. If only…if only…I could practically hear Ron screaming with pleasure under me…with me…I don't care. Oh, God…
He groaned, tightening his grip and stroking faster almost to the point of pain, as he thought he smelled Ron…somewhere nearby. He could recognize him by smell alone; he always seemed to smell of freshly-mowed grass, some kind of fruity pie…for the life of him, he couldn't recall it…and home…the home that the Weasleys welcomed him into and for which he would always be grateful. "Ron…Ron," Harry panted out, every muscle in his body tensing up. "Oh, God, please…"
"Harry…come to me…"
With that whispered voice with the wind, Harry blew into pieces. He couldn't hold back the intense groan of Ron's name as his climax ripped into him with too intensity with him for him to handle. The overhead lights shattered into a million pieces as well the lights in each of the showers. The other showerheads blew out of the stalls and the water began raining down into the locker room as Harry gripped himself in a foolish effort to make the pleasure longer…it was the only way that he could possibly get that close to making love with Ron and he knew it…and he sagged against the wall, gasping for much needed air as yet another wave slammed through him.
"That…that…that…oh, God, "Harry gasped, sliding to the floor in a sated heap. " I need Ron…oh, I need him right now. That wasn't enough…"
He was so far out of it that he didn't even hear movement within the locker room and somebody walk toward him, almost slowly and methodically. The surprise the person would come across wouldn't surprise them in the least; to them, it was their wish come true and it had been that way for years. Too bad that it's taken him this long to figure it out…if I didn't see the way he had looked at me during the game, I would still be holding back my feelings, in deference to his. But now, all bets are off…he, obviously wants me as much as I want him…
A soft smile crossed his face as he slinked through the water and looked down at Harry's prone, pleasure-drenched form. He was almost too beautiful to be believed…with his emerald-green eyes sated with pleasure, his black hair slicked to his head, and the water rolling down the contours of his muscles and body as though they were hesitant to leave, he was like a painting to be admired for all time. And I'm going to admire and pleasure him…now and forever if he'll have me…
He bent down, reached out and placed a gentle hand against the curve of his cheek. Harry was so out of it, of course, that he couldn't even move; he just focused that beautiful gaze on him. The guy barely prevented himself from purring in pleasure…he was finally getting what he always wanted…his beautiful, sexy best friend, Harry James Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived…the love of his life.
"Harry, come back to the real world…we have things to do…"