Rating: R for violence and a sexual relationship
between Harry and Sirius, the latter of which I think would look very nice in
leather pants.
Disclaimer: Characters within belong to J.K. Rowling,
and the Snitch boxers belong to Al, who has graciously allowed me to use them,
provided I buy him all manner of very expensive things that I unfortunately
can't afford the price tag or shipping for.
Sorry!
Dedication: To Pleiades, who didn't run screaming. To Quillow, who this squicks. Happy (early) birthday. To Amoeba, who called me. To Nuwanda, who was written out and is going
to call me. Happy (belated)
birthday. To all reviewers-flamers or
not.
Precious Moments
By Coqui
~_^
Coquilla13@aol.com
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Midnight. Happy birthday, Harry, he thought to himself
miserably. Dumbledore, as a safety
precaution, had set up wards to keep out all owls but ones from Hogwarts-The
Dursleys had been bearable. He wasn't
particularly wild over how they treated him, but it could have been worse. Much worse.
He shuddered as the memory of the pain of the Cruciatus Curse worked its
way through his system, as it had too many times before. Cedric…Dead on the ground beside him…
Suddenly, a
loud pop interrupted his reminiscing.
He looked up in alarm. Sirius
was sitting on his bed.
"Happy
birthday," he said dully.
"You
shouldn't be here," said Harry immediately.
"I know."
His tone and expression were completely devoid of any cheer.
"Are you
all right?"
"Quite," he
said, although his glazed eyes could have suggested something else.
"Are you
sure?"
"Yes. Your bedraggled godfather pops in to wish
you a happy birthday and all he gets is interrogation?"
"My
bedraggled godfather popped in at midnight.
I should say he gets interrogated.
Why are you here?"
"I need a
reason?"
"No, but…"
"Good." He looked around. "Horrible place you've got."
"Um."
"Disgusting…my
cell was nicer than this lot," he said, sinking onto the mattress, which
springs were protruding out of.
"I had
barred windows once."
"I had
barred windows twenty four hours a day for twelve years. And straw is definitely more comfortable
than this."
Harry
shrugged. "Beats a cupboard."
"That it
does," said Sirius, stretching.
"Why are
you here?"
Sirius
ignored him. "Mind if I get a rest?"
"No."
"We'll talk
in the morning." He promptly fell
asleep.
Harry opted
for the floor.
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He was awakened by Sirius, who was
shaking him.
"Wha-oh."
"Take
this," he said, holding out a silver lightning bolt on a chain.
"What is
it?"
"Er-birthday
present," he said hastily.
Harry
looked at the proffered object. "What
is it?"
"Protective
charm. Just take the damn thing." He pressed it in Harry's hand, and he felt
the all-too-familiar tug behind his navel.
"Sirius!"
he cried, as everything spun. He landed
on a cold stone floor.
A high
laugh invaded his ears.
He jerked
free of Sirius' unconscious form, and stood up, trying to see where he
was.
"At last,
Harry Potter, you are mine."
He was
silent.
"You stand
in my dungeons…I see your godfather was too weak to resist my curse…"
"What
curse?" he demanded, circling around again, reaching instinctively for his
wand, before realizing he was only clad in boxers (complete with fluttering
Snitches, courtesy of Al) and a tee-shirt.
"The
Imperious, of course…I was rather disappointed…he had less character than I
gave him credit for…and it is very rarely that I overestimate someone."
A hand
gripped his shoulder as light flooded the cell. He spun around to find his godfather, the glassy look replaced
with one of extreme fear and worry.
"Harry, I'm so sorry-I tried, but I couldn't-there were too many…"
"It's
fine…but how do we get out of here?"
"You don't,
Harry, that's the beauty of it," said Voldemort's voice. "You and your godfather will perish
here…you'll watch each other wither away, and both of you will know it's your
fault that the other is dying…after all, if he had been stronger, you wouldn't
be here…"
Sirius
looked ashamed at this.
"No, it's
not true!" Harry shouted.
"But it
is. And if you didn't keep begging him
to come back, it could have been some other wizard, that meant much less to
you…"
"NO!"
"Yes. Don't worry, we won't let you starve…we're
much more creative than that…enjoy your last pain-free hours…" The light faded again.
"Sirius?"
said Harry softly, feeling blindly in the darkness for his godfather.
"Don't talk
to me. I don't deserve you," he said
mournfully.
His voice
was coming from his right. Harry turned
towards it.
"No, you
don't deserve being here. This is all
my fault."
"No, it's my
fault."
"It's not!"
"Yes, it
is!"
"He said we
weren't going to starve to death."
"No. Their enemies meet much
more…gruesome…demises than that."
Harry's
knee hit what felt like the outline of a bed.
He felt it, and determined that it was, indeed, one.
"Let's not
spend our last few hours of having complete bodies bickering," he suggested. "You can have the bed."
"Bed?"
"Yeah. Over here."
"No, you
can."
"No, you."
"We'll both
take it," suggested Sirius, after a few moments of terse silence.
"But
that's-"
"Tantamount
to having sex? I don't think so,
personally."
"But-still…"
"Who
cares? No one's ever going to find out,
as I doubt we'll get out of here alive."
"That's a
great attitude."
"It's
called thinking realistically. Loosen
up, Harry. There are going to be no
consequences for whatever we do between now and the morning. They're going to
kill us anyway. And I think it'll seem
shorter if we have something to look forward to."
"What do
you mean?"
"A very
wise fish once said 'don't worry, be happy'. And you know what makes a person
very happy, in my opinion?"
"I wouldn't
know."
"Fucking
like rabbits," he said cheerfully.
"Wait, so
you're determined to make your last hours enjoyable by having rampant sex?"
"It sounds
good to me."
"I've never
had sex. I wouldn't know what to do."
"If, by any
chance, we do make it out of here, which, as we've established, is highly
unlikely, then you will for whatever lover you land."
"Um."
"Rampant
sex now, torture later. Or just the
torture part. Either way, we're
screwed."
"That's not
a very good pun."
"It wasn't
supposed to come out like that."
"Are you
just looking for an excuse to have sex with me?"
"Partially,"
he admitted. "I've long thought you
hot. But I didn't want you to think you
had a pervert for a godfather." "Too
late," he said wryly.
"I'd have
sex with anyone they threw me in with, except possibly Snape. That it's you is an added bonus. And that ou look like James. That makes for some very happy déjà vu. I could recognize his dick by feel, you
know."
"Gross!"
said Harry, appalled.
"He thought
it was touching."
"Bad pun."
"Oops." He paused.
"So. Um. Will you?"
"I don't
know how."
"I'll show
you. It's your last chance."
He
sighed. "All right."
"Yes!"
And they
did.
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Sirius was inside him now, and it
was like nothing he'd ever experienced before.
He climaxed with a low moan of pleasure, and withdrew as Harry
gasped. Whatever sounds either made
were stifled by the other's receptive lips.
As Sirius drew back to breathe, Harry slumped back, exhausted. Despite the chill of the cell, Sirius' body
kept him warm.
"Perhaps we
should get some sleep," said Sirius.
"I'm tired, myself. Freud did
say that sexual gratification makes one sleepy…"
"Whatever
you want."
There was a
moment of silence. Then Sirius took him
in his arms, running his hands artfully down his naked body to give him the
most pleasure he'd ever experienced. After
Harry had come, Sirius lay on the bed as well, Harry beside him.
His eyelids
were drooping shut, despite his desire to spend the rest of his hours with his
godfather…
"Sirius?"
he said softly.
"Mmm?"
Sirius replied, his chest vibrating pleasantly against Harry's head, his
fingers gently running through his hair.
"I'm glad
you're here."
"So am
I." He kissed Harry gently on the
forehead.
"Sirius?"
"Mmm?"
"Don't
leave me, ever."
"You'll
always be in my heart, Harry. And if
I'm in yours, then we'll be together, always.
Okay?"
"Mmm."
Sirius
smiled despite the graveness of the situation.
"I love you."
But Harry
was fast asleep.
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The next morning, they were hauled
roughly out of their cell, still naked.
They were shoved on the floor before Lord Voldemort himself, and greeted
with his laugh.
"So, little
Harry Potter isn't a virgin anymore?
Funny, Black, I never pegged you for a rapist…"
"I am NOT a
rapist!" Sirius shouted.
"And you,
Harry, what a horny little whore you are!"
Harry
scowled.
"And it's
immoral, as well-you're fifteen, and you're over thirty-five! Shame on you both! Not that it matters…you'll be sufficiently punished today…"
And then
the torture began. It was
horrible…hours upon hours of pain…Harry could barely see…
"Siri…" he
called, too weak to say the whole name, much less loud enough for Sirius to
hear.
"Right
here," replied his godfather, to his very great surprise. Harry could almost hear him smiling…as
though he was ignorant of the fact that his every sinew was being twisted and
that his very skeleton was shattering.
"I…" he
gasped as they jabbed something into his side, "I love you."
"I love you
too, Harry…oh, fuck, that hurts...cut it out, will you?"
Harry
screamed as they pressed a red-hot iron against his skin.
"You all
right?"
"Fine."
"Liar."
"Yeah."
"NO
TALKING!" shrieked Voldemort. "Unless
you're begging me to stop!"
"No, I think
I'll pass," Harry said softly.
"Me too."
"BEG ME,
BOY!" he yelled, hitting Harry repeatedly with something.
"No."
"Fine." He started to flog Sirius as well, but found
himself struggling to throw Harry off, as he'd broken his wrists and ankles to
get himself off the table, and had jumped on top of Voldemort, disregarding the
pain in his scar, trying to strangle him with his elbow.
"Stupid
boy!" He flung Harry to the floor and started kicking him. Harry curled into the fetal position, but
remained silent. This abruptly stopped,
and Harry, looking up, saw Voldemort looking at Sirius with an expression that
he didn't like at all. He saw the wand
come out of the robes…he put all his weight on his wrists, disregarding the
pain, shifting to his feet-
"Avada
kedavra!" Voldemort bellowed, pointing the wand at Sirius.
Everything
seemed to be in slow motion. "NO!"
Harry screamed, throwing himself in front of the curse, gathering momentum from
his broken legs, which had managed to get him in a crouching position and
allowed him to knock his godfather out of the way. The last thing he saw before the green light of speeding death
took him was the look of sheer terror on Sirius' face. He smiled slightly, and then surrendered to
the blackness.
He never
saw the worried look on Sirius' face.
He never saw the look of fury on
Voldemort's.
He never saw the tears that fell as
Sirius sobbed, clutching his broken body to his chest.
He never
saw Sirius' escape from the fortress, his corpse clutched in his arms.
He never
saw the cold, silver blade plunge into Sirius' lonely breast…ending the
unendurable beating of his already bleeding heart…
But he did know that he was
complete as he died…and the smile of acceptance, which forever kept his blue,
lifeless lips upturned, was proof enough of that.
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End
September
3, 2001
