Charles had been humiliated. Again. He despised the fact that his brother and the other Malfoy had joined the team and that their strategies had improved significantly. He was now known as Hadrian. He used to go by the name Jamie. Jamie Freddrick Potter. Hadrian wasn't a Potter. He wasn't the same boy any longer.

Charles knew his parents' decision to give Jamie away was a mistake, yet he couldn't help but sigh. Of course, he wanted to be friends with him as a child. Charles had found his hair so cool. But, on the other hand, has always been brazen about friendships and didn't quite get the concept of different characteristics. He couldn't figure out why the youngster flinched when he waved his arms when his other buddies didn't, or why he didn't approach him closer than two feet.

His child brain had seen it as rejection and acted upon this.

Of course, he realizes now, but back then, he hated the Slytherin for irreversibly severing his links with the boy. There was also the issue that he had to act as if he despised the boy. Because he doesn't want his parents to find out.

The essence of all that is good and holy are James and Lily Potter. He had been terribly bashful as a boy, despising the media and the photographers that trailed his every move. His parents had basked in the spotlight; at times, it seemed as though they were more concerned with their celebrity status than with him.

He hardly learnt to build ties as a child, such as friendships. He couldn't remember the last time he made a new buddy. A friend of his QWN and not with someone his parents have pre-approved. ugh

He got off his broom dejectedly and searched about for his father, knowing full well that he wasn't there. He looked at Jami-Malfoy with envy. Malfoy was his name. Malfoy spun his shrieking brother around in a circle. He should've been the one. He wishes it had been him. He despises his parents, the press, and Dumbledore, who hasn't spoken to him this year, avoiding even eye contact or greetings in the corridors.

He despises it when others mutter behind his back and point at him while he isn't looking. He despises the taunts and barbs he receives for claiming the dark lord has returned. He didn't even say anything to the press it was all Dumbledore.

But isn't that what it always boiled down to? Fucking Dumbledore. He'd had enough of it. He was scarcely a functioning human being at this point, little more than a robot being ordered around to do the will of others. Everything he did, from what he ate to the friends he made, was tainted by Dumbledore.

Like his best friend Ron Weasley, the pureblood son of acknowledged blood traitors and a recognized admirer of Dumbledore.

Or maybe Hermione, a muggle-born or Hogwarts know-it-all who is a stickler for the rules and kisses the arse of power. Who was in charge, and who had the authority? Dumbledore.

It was a miracle he hadn't run out of hands since he had his hands in so many pots.

For a brief while, Charles considered his predicament, pondering if he should ignore Dumbledore and seek his-

His spine tensed and he blinked restlessly. What had he been thinking about just now?

He couldn't believe his brother, who was a slimy Slytherin, had refused his hand in friendship after he had been nothing but polite, more than the blondie deserved. It wasn't that much, he snorted.

Nonetheless, his gaze was drawn to the man who was heading inside the castle with Malfoy, inspecting his toned back and temporarily forgetting about his girlfriend. When he got up close he saw the man next to Malfoy , and the man was rather attractive. How did the serpent have someone more beautiful than him, after all, he was the boy who lived, wasn't he?

What was he doing again, he blinked again. He was very unorganized today. Perhaps he would willingly enter Madam Pomfrey's domain just to make sure he was okay. He is the Saviour, and he must beat Voldemort; he cannot be sick, it would be inconceivable.

Ginny said impatiently, "Charles?" He'd been avoiding her calls for a long time, most likely deep in thought.

He whispered back, lost in thought, "yes ginny?" as he walked with measured steps.

"Charles," Ginny said again, her voice tense with rage. Charles let out a sigh.

"Yeah gin, what's up?" he said, giving her his undivided attention for fear of her screaming or worse, hexing him.

She gave a warm smile. "Given the team's poor performance, I believe we should increase training hours," she stated.

As they strolled back to the castle, he murmured monotonously, "Of course ginny, anything you say."

OOooOoOOooO

Harry smiled as he said, "But you'll do it."

"Harry, I'd do anything for you."

Harry looked at him with a joyous expression on his face.

For a brief minute, Marvalo had panicked, fearful of what the prophet might do if he did not comply with her ruthless requirements.

Under his inspection, Harry fidgeted and stared back resolutely. Ferocious, Bold, and Cunning Harry was far more than he had ever imagined him to be.

He studied Harry's face once more, evaluating and memorizing the details. The angle of his hair, the shape of his lips His hair was stunning, chocolate brown like his mother's, dark and silky, with a stripe of blonde hair running front to back.

His eyes gleamed, and his posture was tense as if he was ready to pounce.

"I've missed you Marvalo," Harry mumbled, his posture implying as much. Harry touched his cheek and drew him into a shy kiss right away.

He felt smug as he grinned into it. As he sought to eat Harry alive, he pushed harder, making him forget everything apart from his name.

If Harry was ready, he was going to take things a step further today, and there was no time like the present, as they said. As he felt his legs wrap around his body, he lifted Harry off his feet, their fierce kisses never halting. As Harry uttered the most delightful moans, his tongue had moved to the corner of Harry's ear, licking and sucking.

As he palmed Harry's prominent hard-on, his palms stroked fire downwards. He smirked, he was the reason for this loss of control, he couldn't help but feel smug. As he unbuckled the belt that held the quidditch uniform's pants, his hands sought for it.

With an impatient look on his face, he looked up at Harry, who was pleading with him to hurry up.

As he slipped down Harry's slacks, Marvalo questioned, his voice raspy, "Is this okay?" As Marvalo palmed his erection, harry gave a hurried nod, more to himself.

"I'd want to hear your verbal reply, Harry," Marvalo added.

"Yes, Please Please "

And Marvalo could no longer deny his darling.

Marvalos acknowledges to himself that he's nervous because this is the first time he's done something like this for someone else, and he's hoping to get it right. He bends down and gives Harry a chaste kiss, which is soon returned.

His hands trace downwards and softly rub the erection, which he can feel oozing with pre-cum.

Harry yells when Marvalo licks his first stripe over it. He pushes Marvalo forward by bucking into the touch.

Marvalos has settled into a rhythm, and Harry is soon shouting out and cumming inside his mouth. He swallows the bitter liquid and smiles at Harry, who returns his dazed dopey smile.

"I missed you too, Harry," he adds, kissing him on the cheek.