Notes: Uhh….sorry about this extremely long delay. I went on a sudden Justice League tangent, followed closely by a Yu-Gi-Oh one and this just now popped back up on my radar. Blush I blame the muses, 'specially Wally. He's rather self-serving for a superhero.

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Chapter One

The Dream

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And he couldn't help but shout as pain crashed into his skull. He felt like he'd just fallen out of one of the towers, been run over by a crazed troll only to be beaten by the Weasley twins with bats, and then forced to take a surprise quiz in Potions.

Fucking hell.

"You're awake." A mild voice commented. Madam Pomfrey of course, every Quidditch knew her voice as well as they knew the voice of their own mother. "I take it your head hurts?"

"yes." In a very understated kind of way. He'd had headaches, this was…terrible. It was like there was something inside of his head with a huge hammer trying to turn his brain into a huge pile of gray mush. And, sick, there was an image he hadn't really needed. He groaned and put his hands around his ears as if to stop the pounding inside of his head.

Didn't work.

"Mr. Wood I have something here that should help."

He cracked open an eye and stared at her. "Are you planning to give it to me, or just talk about it until my head bloody well explodes?"

He didn't mean to be a bastard, but pain kind of made him cranky.

The woman made a noise of annoyance then turned away from him. Oh hell, he'd just irritated the person who had the power to make this headache go away. He wondered briefly if groveling on the floor would make her come back and fix him.

Then she turned and offered him a small cup. He grabbed it, thoughts of groveling leaving his mind at the prospect of ridding himself of this pain and, hopefully, being knocked out for the next few hours. He wasn't normally one for potions that did that sort of thing, preferring to just wade through the pain on his own, but at the moment he was willing to overlook that little conviction of his.

He downed the liquid in one gulp and then, once it was down and the taste finally hit his tongue, gagged loudly. The stuff was thick like syrup and tasted like…sweaty socks after being left in the bottom of a lock for the entire school year. Or at least that's how he imagined such a thing would taste. All he could say for sure was that this stuff was extremely, as in horribly, foul tasting and he probably could have done with something a little less vomit inducing.

He glowered at the woman who just smirked at him mildly. He suspected there was something just as effective and less nasty on her potions cart but that she'd given him the worst thing she cold possibly concoct legally. This was why it was a bad idea to take the piss out of the people who got to make you drink and eat things.

Still he had come to the conclusion over the past seven years that the more disgusting the potion the more effective it would be. And, if that was the case, he imagined that this one drifted off into the category of preemptive pain relief. Next time he was knocked off of his broom he probably wouldn't be able to feel a thing.

A slab of chocolate was shoved into his hands and he took a bite without question. This was his favorite part of the healing process.

"Eat some of this. It'll work with the medication to put you to sleep for a few hours. By the time you wake up your pain should be gone and the headmaster will want to discuss what made you faint."

He frowned from around a bite of chocolate. "I did not faint. Old ladies and teenage girls faint. I blacked out in a very manly style, befitting one such as myself."

He hoped.

She arched an eyebrow. "Right." And with that she was gone. He frowned. For some off reason he sensed a lot of skepticism coming from her. He took another bite of his chocolate and sighed as the intended effects began to take place.

A sort of warmth seeped into him, traveling down to his toes, and the pressure in his head began to decrease and the world became sort of fuzzy. He took another bite then laid back down and set it on the nearby nightstand. He let his eyes drift shut and, for the first time, his thoughts turned to what he'd seen before. He could almost see the green light behind his eyelids and it made his insides turn cold.

He tried to open his eyes, to call for the Medi-witch and make her get the headmaster right away, but his eyes were too heavy and his throat felt dry suddenly and refused to cooperate. All he could do was fall asleep.

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"Blair." The blond poked the redhead in the ribs sharply and startled sea-green eyes flew open, then narrowed in annoyance.

"What do you want Luc?"

"Oh, lots of things." He smiled brightly as if the other teen didn't look ready to snap his neck and dance over his grave for daring to wake him up. "World peace, an end to starvation and poverty, to play the violin, get my medical license-"

"Shut up." He stood up and stretched, back cracking almost painfully. The redhead winced slightly but didn't open his mouth again. Finally the redhead sighed and blinked at him mildly. "Let's try this again Luc, what do you want?"

Bright blue eyes became trained on the floor, fingers tangled in the hem of his expensive looking linen shirt, and a blush so red it matched his companion graced his cheeks. "The same thing I always want Blair I don't even know why you bother asking anymore."

A hand darted out and grabbed Lucas' wrist hard. He frowned slightly then grimaced at the feel of the bones in his wrist grinding against one another. He was pulled down so that all he could see was bright green framed by almost translucent lashes.

"I like to hear you beg for it." He shivered at the feel of harsh breath against his cheek, then the rasp of a warm tongue over the shell of his ear. "And I have to admit I'm kind of disappointed right now."

He couldn't repress a whimper as the grip of his wrist tightened while blunt fingers dug into his hip. Not that he would have held it back if he could have because this was what his companion wanted to hear from him. He blinked back the prickle of tears, then breathed out through his nose.

"Please."

"Please what."

It occurred to him that there was really something wrong with the red-head. "Please, you sick and completely twisted excuse for a human being, I want you. Now. On the goddamn library table if you want it, I don't care. Just…now. Please." Only he kind of did. He could just imagine what people would say, what the headlines would read.

Gryffindor Headboy found buggering Slytherin Seeker in library Saturday afternoon; both promptly disowned by deeply shamed families.

But it wasn't like the redhead would do it. Bugger him on the table that was. Then again that's what he'd thought about the Slytherin Common Room, the kitchens, and the greenhouse. He still had scratches from the crazy vine that'd tried to molest him the week before.

Why couldn't they have sex in normal places? Like a bed.

Blair could see the question in his eyes even as he said the words. It was the constant game between them, how far would he push it. Exposure was one of the reasons they kept doing it. At least it was one of his reasons. He yanked the other teen hard and suddenly had his arms full of startled Slytherin, eyes wide and pink lips parted to let out a small yelp.

"If I'm sick…I wonder what that makes you." He spun his partner and quite literally forced him to bend over the table.

He let out a breath then inhaled the lemony scent of whatever they used to clean the tables, before glancing up at the teen hovering above him. Blair smirked widely. He sighed.

"I just realized there is something very wrong with the two of us."

"Not fast on the uptake are you?" Deft fingers, feeling strangely calloused and rough against his admittedly sensitive skin, crawled over his body and underneath, working at the buttons of his jeans. They were very different. Blair was sunburned and weathered even at seventeen, he was pale, small and bordered of delicate. The only psychical activity he saw was on the Quidditch Pitch.

Umm…times like this aside of course.

He couldn't believe this was actually happening. This was why he didn't talk to other people, nothing good ever came of it. People took his little off hand comments on his quest to for sex far too seriously for his own good.

Shit.

On the library table?

Really?

He'd never be able to study properly in here again.

A hand wormed it's way into his pants and he bucked forward, concerns slipping away for a moment. Warm lips found his neck and he felt more than heard.

"Oh well. I'm not interested in your brain anyway." A teasing lick.

He would have been offended had his brain not taken that moment to short circuit on him. Instead he managed a breathy moan, followed by:

"Whatever you say."

"I know."

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Oliver awoke for the third time in what felt like a very long and tiring day, in spite of being asleep for a large portion of it. For a long moment he just blinked up at the ceiling, lips pursed thoughtfully. Well. That had been…um. Interesting. And vaguely kinky, actually. …maybe a little…pleasing, in a way he didn't want to think about least he be forced to confront some parts of his 'inner being' that he didn't want to get into at the moment…

"Ah Mr. Wood." Dumbledore's face suddenly appeared in Oliver's line of vision and he winced slightly because really, who wanted to see that when they woke up? Except for maybe McGonagall and that was a train of thought he just didn't want to pursue right now, lest he be forced to gouge his eyes out with the nearest sharp object. "Glad to see you're awake. Feeling better I hope."

"…" He just blinked, considering the dream. Well…nope, not really feeling better. Kind of disturbed actually. He wasn't sure about the blond from his dreams Lucas but he'd never be able to study in the library again. Though Percy would say he didn't study there properly to begin with.

Come to think of it, that guy in his dream had kind of looked like Percy, in a distant redhead with freckles kind of way. Only he sincerely doubted that Percy had made it to that level of twisted. Then again, the guy was repressed…had a very large stick up his arse and wow, what interesting thoughts that saying invoked.

He had one dirty and dream and all of a sudden he was a massive pervert.

He wondered what Percy would think of his dreams. Not that he'd ever tell him, but it'd be interesting to know if he had any opinions…in a…purely educational sense of course. Not in a perverted trying to make Percy blush because he looked cute when he was all flustered and

Anyway!

"Are you listening?" An impatient voice. He turned to see Professors Snape and McGonagall standing nearby, twin looks of frustration on their faces. He pushed himself into a sitting position and frowned at them. He understood McGonagall's presence, she was the head of his house after all, but Snape was a surprise.

Unless there was something wrong with that potion.

"What?"

"You fainted in class Mr. Wood and we're wondering if you might know what caused it. You appear to be in perfect healthy after all." McGonagall said with a long suffering eye roll.

Oliver scowled but didn't correct her on the fainting thing. But seriously, he hadn't fainted. He was no girl and he certainly didn't go around swooning like one. He frowned for a moment, considering.

"I think Trelawney made me curse myself. It wouldn't be the first time." In his fifth year he'd somehow ended up turning himself into a duck. It seemed Trelawney had inserted a wrong word in Latin and well…he, and all the rest of his class, had been ducks. It had inspired the Weasley twins Canary Creams, so it hadn't totally pointless. "The pan got all weird and purple and bubbly."

"How eloquent of you." Professor Snape sneered. Of course. He couldn't do anything but sneer, smirk, and be sarcastic. Because he was an asshole, plain and simple. "What leads you to believe you were cursed, and didn't just have a fainting spell?"

Oliver glared. God he hated that guy. "I saw something weird. Two kids in one of the towers." He stopped rather abruptly, wondering if he was going to have to explain the other dream. They had each had that guy that blond in them.

He didn't think he should have to explain his sex dreams to his teachers. That was just…gross. And it'd take forever, because he had a lot of less than pure dreams. He supposed being a seventeen year old virgin would do that to a person though…

"Anything else?" Dumbledore asked with a kind smile. Oliver shifted nervously then shook his head slowly. Forget it. Let them think he'd fainted like some kind of pansy who fainted during class. He wasn't was going to discuss these dreams with anyone, let alone these three.

Dumbledore looked almost disappointed for a moment then nodded before smiling brightly. "I see. Pomfrey seems to think that perhaps the fumes from the oil you were provided, which did had a strange reaction in your pan, caused your little spell. Mr. Weasley will be talked to by Professor Snape about his work-"

"Mr. Weasley." He echoed. Percy? Percy made his oil? And it'd had a negative reaction? Impossible, Percy never screwed up on his work. He was so anal-retentive her bordered on obsessive compulsive. The other teen was literally incapable of making any sort of mistakes or blunders or anything like that. It was…just unheard of.

The world was coming to an end.

"You've got to be wrong. Percy's…perfect." A long pause and three raised eyebrows. "In his school work, I mean. Not that he's attractive or has a fantastic personality or these really amazing freckles that go all over his body and oh my god I'm still talking." He clapped his hands over his mouth and rolled his eyes heavenward. Bad mouth, talking without permission of the brain.

Damn it.

"Indeed." McGonagall looked amused. "Perhaps a touch more rest is needed before you re-join your fellow students."

Maybe. He had to stop this running off at the mouth thing before he said something he'd really regret to someone. Not that he hadn't just done that, but in a general sense.

They left and Pomfrey forced a sleeping draught down his throat, along with the rest of the hunk of chocolate from earlier. He eventually feel into a peaceful sort of sleep, oddly grateful for the draught because not at least he wouldn't dream.

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There! Chapter one is complete. Hopefully my HP muses will be more forceful and there will be more of it sooner rather than later.

Percy and Oliver: Look at Dmitri, then at each other, and then back at Dmitri. They shrug.

Dimitri: Or…you know….not.