* * * * *
Harry jerked awake to a bright and breezy Sunday morning. The sunlight was casting a
shadow in the room from the tree that stood just outside the window, and the light summer wind was
causing the curtains to flutter casually. There was the sound of young children playing football in their
back garden and the aroma of freshly cut grass was wafting through the open window. It was the
perfect summer's day without a cloud in the sky…and the dream Harry had been enjoying during his
last moments of sleep was like the icing on the metaphorical equivalent to the birthday cake he had
received from Hagrid the day before.
'The seductive scent of the other body was overwhelming, and Harry leant towards
it, basking in the company he held.
"Harry," a voice mumbled absently. A pair of smooth lips brushed gingerly against
Harry's own. Harry wrapped both arms around the waist of the other body and pulled it
gently closer to him. He heard a faint moan and was slightly startled to realise that it had
escaped his own mouth. The other person teased Harry's tongue with their own, and tangled
their hands in his scruffy raven-black hair. "Oh Harry."
Harry drew back and gazed into the dancing silver eyes of his companion, searching
the thoughts of the person that belonged to him, and him alone.'
"Not again," complained Harry aloud. This wasn't the first time that he had dreamt about
kissing another guy, but the dreams had never been this…this graphic before. He felt as if he could
remember every taste, every scent, every touch of the person involved, and this alarmed Harry
considerably. He climbed out of bed began to pace across the room, back and forth. "It's just a
phase," Harry repeated to himself. "It's just a phase, all guys go through it." However, as he dressed
for breakfast he found himself seriously wondering who his dream partner could be.
* * * * *
A couple of weeks passed in much the same way as the first part of the Summer Holiday had.
Harry taught himself a number of new hexes, curses and other useful spells and had finally completed
the vast amounts of homework the Professors had set for completion over the holiday. As time
progressed his dreams became more and more vivid, and soon he and his partner were getting up to
much more than kissing. Yet who the mysterious partner was still eluded Harry. The thoughts and
daydreams that followed these nighttime get-togethers were also becoming increasingly more common
and the thoughts often interrupted Harry part way through his chores or training.
Soon he found himself standing by the roadside of Privet Drive very early one morning with
his school trunk packed including Draco's tank and heat lamp with Hedwig shut safely in her cage.
Draco had assumed his usual position and was draped around Harry's shoulders It was so early that the
sky was still dark. Harry drew his wand from his waistband and thrust his right arm out into the road.
* BANG! * The Knight Bus appeared next to the curb and the doors opened with a hiss.
"Hi Stan! How much to get to the Burrow?" Harry asked the conductor politely.
"Oh…erm…it's ten sickles, eleven for hot chocolate and twelve if you…
"Here," Harry cut him off and handed Stan Shunpike ten sickles.
Stan lifted Harry's magically feather-light trunk onto the bus and showed Harry to a bed. He sat
down, yawned slowly and pulled his copy of Quidditch Through The Ages from his pocket.
"Ern? OI, ERN…It's Harry Potter!"
Ernie Prang, the driver, simply tutted, there was a snap and the bus was pounding down a
mountainside covered in snow.
* * * * *
Harry said his goodbyes to Ernie and Stan about half an hour later just as the sun was rising
from its daily hibernation and carried his luggage up the path to the Burrow. He pressed the button by
the door – it looked like a normal doorbell – and heard a burst of music from inside the house. The
lights from the kitchen window were flashing shades of yellow and red. The door was opened and
Harry was greeted with an enormous hug.
"Hello Harry dear. How are you? It's good to see you again. Would you like some
breakfast? I'm just making toast now." Mrs Weasley ushered Harry into the kitchen. Hermione was
sat at the table in the centre of the room tucking into a bowl of porridge and avidly studying the Daily
Prophet.
"Hey Herm," Harry grinned. She looked up from her reading and smiled broadly. Harry
strode over and hugged her tightly.
"How are you?" she asked, releasing Harry from her grip. She looked directly his eyes with
the kind of look that he and Ron had become accustomed to over the years of their friendship – a
quizzical gaze, boring deep into his mind. Harry could see that she was considering something
seriously. Don't worry, she can't know about the dreams, he reasoned.
"I'm fine," Harry answered honestly. "Good even. I bet I could give you a run for your
money with the spells I learned over the holiday."
"Oooh, don't be so sure," she laughed.
Harry sat down next to Hermione and poured himself a glass of orange juice, downing it in
one go. He removed the paper from her hands and placed it on the chair on his other side. "How was
the Isle of Wight?" he asked. Draco uncurled himself and hissed loudly into Harry's ear.
"Oh my God!" shrieked Mrs Weasley.
Harry glanced at her guiltily. "Ron didn't tell me that you don't like snakes Mrs Weasley.
I'm sorry. He's perfectly safe, look. Harry handed his new pet to Hermione who in turn draped the
snake around her own shoulders. "His name's Draco." Harry stood up and went over to his trunk.
"He's a bit hungry though." He reached into his trunk and pulled out the pack of snake treats. Harry
sat back at the table and poured some onto his hand. Hissing gratefully, Draco ate the food directly
from the palm of Harry's hand. "Do you want to hold him, Mrs Weasley?"
Molly whimpered and looked at Hermione for reassurance. "OK," she agreed. "Are you sure
it's OK?"
Harry looked directly at Draco and hissed quietly. Glancing back at Mrs Weasley, he noticed
the shocked expression on her face immediately. "I'm a Parselmouth," he confirmed once more. "I
think Rita Skeeter wrote an article about it in Witch Weekly."
"I thought it was just something she made up again," admitted Molly.
"Draco says it's fine. Here." Harry handed the snake to Mrs Weasley. She looked
apprehensive at first and held Draco out, away from her body but she quickly relaxed. After a couple
of minutes she handed him back to Harry and returned to her cooking. "I should take my things up to
Ron's room."
"I'll give you a hand," offered Hermione and picked up Hedwig's cage leading the way up the
stairs to the top of the house.
* * * * *
It took about ten minutes to wake up Ron, and in the end Harry had been forced to pour the
glass of water that had been standing on the bedside table over his best friend's face.
"Wha…" Ron groaned sleepily. "Where's the fire?" He opened a bleary eye and looked up at
the two faces staring down at him. "Harry! When did you get here?" Ron leaped out of bed suddenly
before sitting back down clutching his head. "Oooh, head rush," he complained.
"About half an hour ago. I had to explain about Draco to your poor mother. She was
practically petrified when she noticed." Harry pointed at the tank in the corner of the room where the
snake was sleeping, murmuring things in his sleep that only Harry could understand.
"I planned to tell her," grinned Ron sheepishly. "I just…forgot."
"Diagon Alley in a couple of days Harry, right? I need to pick up all my new books," said
Hermione.
"Sure, I do too."
"Oh, I hear congratulations are in order," commented Ron. "Captain of Quidditch! Not bad!"
*~*~*~*~*
A/N: I received a review from Draco Malfoy-N-Harry Potter (amongst others). They told me that this
story has the same title as another by Pathetic Invader. So, I looked it up and I'm sorry. I didn't plan
to copy the title. I wasn't aware that I had until afterwards.
Harry jerked awake to a bright and breezy Sunday morning. The sunlight was casting a
shadow in the room from the tree that stood just outside the window, and the light summer wind was
causing the curtains to flutter casually. There was the sound of young children playing football in their
back garden and the aroma of freshly cut grass was wafting through the open window. It was the
perfect summer's day without a cloud in the sky…and the dream Harry had been enjoying during his
last moments of sleep was like the icing on the metaphorical equivalent to the birthday cake he had
received from Hagrid the day before.
'The seductive scent of the other body was overwhelming, and Harry leant towards
it, basking in the company he held.
"Harry," a voice mumbled absently. A pair of smooth lips brushed gingerly against
Harry's own. Harry wrapped both arms around the waist of the other body and pulled it
gently closer to him. He heard a faint moan and was slightly startled to realise that it had
escaped his own mouth. The other person teased Harry's tongue with their own, and tangled
their hands in his scruffy raven-black hair. "Oh Harry."
Harry drew back and gazed into the dancing silver eyes of his companion, searching
the thoughts of the person that belonged to him, and him alone.'
"Not again," complained Harry aloud. This wasn't the first time that he had dreamt about
kissing another guy, but the dreams had never been this…this graphic before. He felt as if he could
remember every taste, every scent, every touch of the person involved, and this alarmed Harry
considerably. He climbed out of bed began to pace across the room, back and forth. "It's just a
phase," Harry repeated to himself. "It's just a phase, all guys go through it." However, as he dressed
for breakfast he found himself seriously wondering who his dream partner could be.
* * * * *
A couple of weeks passed in much the same way as the first part of the Summer Holiday had.
Harry taught himself a number of new hexes, curses and other useful spells and had finally completed
the vast amounts of homework the Professors had set for completion over the holiday. As time
progressed his dreams became more and more vivid, and soon he and his partner were getting up to
much more than kissing. Yet who the mysterious partner was still eluded Harry. The thoughts and
daydreams that followed these nighttime get-togethers were also becoming increasingly more common
and the thoughts often interrupted Harry part way through his chores or training.
Soon he found himself standing by the roadside of Privet Drive very early one morning with
his school trunk packed including Draco's tank and heat lamp with Hedwig shut safely in her cage.
Draco had assumed his usual position and was draped around Harry's shoulders It was so early that the
sky was still dark. Harry drew his wand from his waistband and thrust his right arm out into the road.
* BANG! * The Knight Bus appeared next to the curb and the doors opened with a hiss.
"Hi Stan! How much to get to the Burrow?" Harry asked the conductor politely.
"Oh…erm…it's ten sickles, eleven for hot chocolate and twelve if you…
"Here," Harry cut him off and handed Stan Shunpike ten sickles.
Stan lifted Harry's magically feather-light trunk onto the bus and showed Harry to a bed. He sat
down, yawned slowly and pulled his copy of Quidditch Through The Ages from his pocket.
"Ern? OI, ERN…It's Harry Potter!"
Ernie Prang, the driver, simply tutted, there was a snap and the bus was pounding down a
mountainside covered in snow.
* * * * *
Harry said his goodbyes to Ernie and Stan about half an hour later just as the sun was rising
from its daily hibernation and carried his luggage up the path to the Burrow. He pressed the button by
the door – it looked like a normal doorbell – and heard a burst of music from inside the house. The
lights from the kitchen window were flashing shades of yellow and red. The door was opened and
Harry was greeted with an enormous hug.
"Hello Harry dear. How are you? It's good to see you again. Would you like some
breakfast? I'm just making toast now." Mrs Weasley ushered Harry into the kitchen. Hermione was
sat at the table in the centre of the room tucking into a bowl of porridge and avidly studying the Daily
Prophet.
"Hey Herm," Harry grinned. She looked up from her reading and smiled broadly. Harry
strode over and hugged her tightly.
"How are you?" she asked, releasing Harry from her grip. She looked directly his eyes with
the kind of look that he and Ron had become accustomed to over the years of their friendship – a
quizzical gaze, boring deep into his mind. Harry could see that she was considering something
seriously. Don't worry, she can't know about the dreams, he reasoned.
"I'm fine," Harry answered honestly. "Good even. I bet I could give you a run for your
money with the spells I learned over the holiday."
"Oooh, don't be so sure," she laughed.
Harry sat down next to Hermione and poured himself a glass of orange juice, downing it in
one go. He removed the paper from her hands and placed it on the chair on his other side. "How was
the Isle of Wight?" he asked. Draco uncurled himself and hissed loudly into Harry's ear.
"Oh my God!" shrieked Mrs Weasley.
Harry glanced at her guiltily. "Ron didn't tell me that you don't like snakes Mrs Weasley.
I'm sorry. He's perfectly safe, look. Harry handed his new pet to Hermione who in turn draped the
snake around her own shoulders. "His name's Draco." Harry stood up and went over to his trunk.
"He's a bit hungry though." He reached into his trunk and pulled out the pack of snake treats. Harry
sat back at the table and poured some onto his hand. Hissing gratefully, Draco ate the food directly
from the palm of Harry's hand. "Do you want to hold him, Mrs Weasley?"
Molly whimpered and looked at Hermione for reassurance. "OK," she agreed. "Are you sure
it's OK?"
Harry looked directly at Draco and hissed quietly. Glancing back at Mrs Weasley, he noticed
the shocked expression on her face immediately. "I'm a Parselmouth," he confirmed once more. "I
think Rita Skeeter wrote an article about it in Witch Weekly."
"I thought it was just something she made up again," admitted Molly.
"Draco says it's fine. Here." Harry handed the snake to Mrs Weasley. She looked
apprehensive at first and held Draco out, away from her body but she quickly relaxed. After a couple
of minutes she handed him back to Harry and returned to her cooking. "I should take my things up to
Ron's room."
"I'll give you a hand," offered Hermione and picked up Hedwig's cage leading the way up the
stairs to the top of the house.
* * * * *
It took about ten minutes to wake up Ron, and in the end Harry had been forced to pour the
glass of water that had been standing on the bedside table over his best friend's face.
"Wha…" Ron groaned sleepily. "Where's the fire?" He opened a bleary eye and looked up at
the two faces staring down at him. "Harry! When did you get here?" Ron leaped out of bed suddenly
before sitting back down clutching his head. "Oooh, head rush," he complained.
"About half an hour ago. I had to explain about Draco to your poor mother. She was
practically petrified when she noticed." Harry pointed at the tank in the corner of the room where the
snake was sleeping, murmuring things in his sleep that only Harry could understand.
"I planned to tell her," grinned Ron sheepishly. "I just…forgot."
"Diagon Alley in a couple of days Harry, right? I need to pick up all my new books," said
Hermione.
"Sure, I do too."
"Oh, I hear congratulations are in order," commented Ron. "Captain of Quidditch! Not bad!"
*~*~*~*~*
A/N: I received a review from Draco Malfoy-N-Harry Potter (amongst others). They told me that this
story has the same title as another by Pathetic Invader. So, I looked it up and I'm sorry. I didn't plan
to copy the title. I wasn't aware that I had until afterwards.