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Rating: R
Not mine, don't sue.
Sorry for a probable Gary Stu.
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Chapter V
I am my beloved's, and his desire is toward me. Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the field; let us lodge in the villages. Let us get up early to the vineyards; let us see if the vine flourish, whether the tender grape appear, and the pomegranates bud forth: there will I give thee myself. (Song of Songs, Anthology of Eroticarma)
On that morning Harry woke up with a strange sense of foreboding. All he could think about was how he'd been having a wonderful dream and that it had been ruined by the presence of the Grim. The reverie had begun in Professor Lupin's offices, where he was trying his best to come up with a decent patronus. He kept falling short, and had become quite bored with collapsing when suddenly he saw Cedric ridding up on a stag. Cedric had said, "Professor, I'm quite aware that fighting dementors is of great interest to Harry, but could it be possible for him to be let off early so that he can practice his erotic skills with me." He had gaped at Cedric, but Professor Lupin had seemed very unruffled by the whole thing, and advised though that they should probably stop by Honeyduke's in order to buy some melted chocolate. Harry had climbed on the stag, in a surprisingly natural way, sitting in front of Cedric and they had gallivanted their way out of Hogwart's in full view of everyone.
After a while, sitting on the stag had turned into an awkward affair, for the older boy, with the friction of riding and the pressure of Harry's arse against him, had become fretfully aroused and taken to pressing his budding erection into Harry. "I know I should apologize Green-Eyes, but it's awfully hard—difficult to feel sorry about something so pleasurable don't you think?"
The Boy Who Lived assented wordlessly, bearing his weight down into the other boy's crotch. They arrived to the secluded patch of grass Cedric had prepared for them and commenced summarily to devour each other. Tongues lashed out like scalding, tender whips of flesh, lips locked mouthing promises of penetration, bodies pressed against each other in tender affirmation of desire. Harry felt himself topped and went immediately to the source of Cedric's desire, using his hands to stroke the golden boy's firmness...until the blasted Grim had arrived to ruin his otherwise delectable little wet dream.
Cedric had immediately gone into combat mode, pulling Harry, who had inexplicably left his wand in Professor Lupin's offices, behind him. "Get away from here you—you Mangy Omen of Destruction!" Cedric had yelled, wand in the air, hair tussled, mouth bruised and swollen with now forgotten kisses. Even in the dream it had seemed like an incredibly awkward line, but what the hell, he had looked perniciously delicious acting all fierce and protective like that. The Grim had pounced on Cedric at that moment, and if Harry had not been sick with fright and worry, he would probably not have blamed it. Rawr.
Sweating, Harry sat up in his bed and had to use all of his self-control not to run down to the Hufflepuff dormrooms to see whether Cedric was, in fact, alright and bite-free. It was awkward to wake up aroused and frightened at the same time, but he supposed that now Cedric was in his life he would just have to get used to it. He used the morning time that he was now reserving for hair-combing, to masturbate. He didn't need too much coaxing-- the image of Cedric pressed against him had been more than enough. Looking around the room he saw that his other room-mates had returned.
"Are you guys still camping out at the girl's room? Is it true Hermione tricked the stairs into believing everyone who stepped on them is female?" said Harry, wiping his hand.
"Yes, and yes, Harry-dear," said Seamus, rubbing his eyes yet looking contented.
"The girl's room doesn't get old?" said Harry, deliberately baiting the boy.
"Well, matey, unless you've got something for us, I figure mining for oysters shall never get old. I'd be interested in eating some shrimp, though, if I was offered."
"You're disgusting," said Harry, laughing.
"Yeah, and what were you wiping out of your hands there, bitty. Shrimp juice?"
"Percy," said Oliver stroking his lover's back, blowing breath into Percy's ear.
"Hmmm," groaned Percy, burrowing his face further into the pillow and refusing to open his eyes.
"Are you going to court him?" whispered Oliver, scooting closer to the other boy and putting a leg over his torso.
Percy opened his eyes, turning and disengaging himself from Oliver's legs in a seemingly accidental way. "I have to."
"You have to? You don't have to Percy, not if you're with me. You can tell your mother you've found a lover," said Oliver, stung.
"Its my duty, Oli, she expects me to court Harry. You know how my Mum is about him, she adores the boy, she talks about him like he's my brother," said Percy, scratching his forehead aggravated.
"This is so pathetic, Percy, you're ready to leave me for him for some so-called duty to your family," said Oliver, ripping the blanket off his body, standing up and putting on his pants.
Percy remained on the bed, looking aimlessly, tears filling up his eyes. He had to do as his parents expected him to, he couldn't stand to be judged in a negative way, he couldn't stand to be looked down upon, or feel he had disappointed them. But somehow he had fallen for Oliver, not sure if it was love, lust, or some cloudy phase. "Oli, I have to try, he probably won't accept me you know, in the Rescuing, his friends won't let me take him and that will be that."
"That's not the point, Percy, and you know it," said Oliver, his voice thick.
"I know, Oli, but that's all I can give you. We had a good time, didn't we? I mean, really, what does Oliver Quidditch Maniac and Percy Future Head Boy could ever have in common," Percy said, still not looking at Oliver.
"We have nothing in common, Percy, you're right, but I really liked you and I know you like me because you've got to every single bleeding match since you've met me," said Oliver smiling bitterly.
"I'm sorry, Oliver," said Percy, as the door closed.
Harry stayed up that night tossing and turning and thinking about everything that was going on in his life. Dementors, Sirius Black, losing the snitch to a boy he had feelings for. And now this question about…a marriage? The black-haired boy realized that his Muggle life had not prepared him at all for this. He was experiencing all of these sexual feelings, but he did not consider himself sexy, or and he didn't know if he was prepared for it all. Someone who has lived within the Wizarding World his whole life, in that world of guiltless passion, that sex-positive world in which longing and consummation was seen as a wonderful, natural and magical part of life a young boy like him would probably be able to cope with desiring and being an object of desire for another boy or man. What would he do? Would he pretend? Would he reject? Would he…accept?
And what did it entail? He admitted to himself that he would have no problem making love to Cedric. He did not need even the promise of a permanent, committed union to have sex with Cedric, as his body was hounding him ceaselessly. But what about the vows? What about the obeying and protecting? The truth is that in all his life he had never really obeyed anyone. He had done certain things and behaved in certain ways in order to evade abuse or punishment, either from the Durseley's or his professors, but obeying implied the voluntary surrendering of his will. Harry wasn't too sure he wanted to surrender, or be protected by this boy he didn't know that well. Would Cedric's vow inhibit him from doing what he wanted to do? Why should he have an innocent bloke like Cedric get into the very dangerous position of protecting him? What would Cedric do if he knew Sirius Black wanted to kill Harry? And what would Cedric do if he knew Harry was trying to find Sirius Black? With these thoughts the young boy fell asleep.
Reading the Wizard's Anthology of Eroticarma, Harry precipitously perceived that he hadn't seen Ron in quite a while.
"Hermione?"
"Yes?" said Hermione distractedly trying to finish her Arithmancy problems.
"Where's Ron?"
"Now you noticed," said Hermione, flipping a page.
"I've just had a couple of things in my mind, what with having a murderous godfather after me and falling in—liking Cedric. I don't know if YOU'VE noticed."
Hermione chuckled half-heartedly, assenting and said, "Ron is helping out with the courtship ceremonies, Harry. Everyone knows who'll be the victor, but they have to go through the ritual anyway."
"I'm going to be courted, now? What the hell, this all feels so old fashioned and—
"It is old fashioned," said Hermione jotting down some numbers in the parchment and finally closing the book. "That's why almost no one does it anymore. I mean in England, in France and Italy it's still very popular, but I don't think it has been done inside the walls of this castle since last century. Cedric, had his courtship during the summer…"
"Wait, Cedric was a Listener, an Eromenos?" said Harry, looking up sharply from an erotic picture he had been examining in his book.
"Yes, Harry, that's who died, his Erastes. His lover died last year," said Hermione with a sad look on her face. "That must have been terrible for him."
"Who was he?" said Harry, feeling bizarre at having discovered this unknown aspect of his friend's life.
"From what Kane has told me, he was an Auror called Gabriel Fiebre," said Hermione.
"You're friends with Kane?" said Harry, surprised.
"No, I don't think anyone is friend's with Kane, except for Cedric, though. Anyway, who cares about Kane? We're talking about Cedric, are we not?"
"I thought we were talking about Gabriel," said Harry. "You know, the more I learn about Cedric the less I feel I know him."
"You know him, I've seen you with him, you know him," said Hermione, smiling.
"You're thinking about Ron, aren't you?" said Harry, tenderly brushing a few strands of away from her face and accidentally caressing her cheek.
Startled by the warm touch, she looked into his eyes, "You carry around a very Muggle concept of the world and relationships. Muggles, my parents included"—you could tell she was getting warmed up—"think of sexuality as negative and positive, as do we, but for different reasons. They, because sex creates life and pleasure, but also diseases and death. Such diseases are easily cured and prevented through Magic, but we witches and wizards know that in sex lies the deepest magic over life and death. That sex is always inextricably linked to love, no matter how much we may run from it, and Love…well, Love is a double edged sword if there ever was one."
Harry looked down at her lips cowered by the intensity of her eyes, and felt the perverse desire to kiss her, "I want to kiss you Hermione, I don't know why."
"Your sexuality has awoken and you're suddenly finding it everywhere," said Hermione, a light blush painting her cheeks.
"Can I kiss you?" said Harry, still looking at her lips.
"No, you can't, but thank you, Harry, it would have been immeasurably sweet," said Hermione, opening his book and pushing his head into it. "Read, Harry, you'll need it."
The Bible