author: MsLittleItaly
M
HP/RW/HG
6 Th year
Our best friendChapter 3
Harry Potter woke up the morning of his sixteenth birthday surrounded by a feeling of peace and security. He had spent the days following his arrival within the confines of the burrow, often playing Quidditch two against two: he and Hermione against Ron and Ginny. The sister of his best friend seemed to have got the Weasley's talent, and Hermione was terrible. Ginny had teased her friend saying she had to practice because "it was always useful to know how to ride a broomstick". Hermione was not the only one to blush at the two-way sentence. Ginny had whispered to the curly-haired girl, but Harry was close enough to hear her. He preferred not to think of his intelligent friend ride any thing: to do that made him feel a little... well, a little guilty and dirty. But it was a shame that Ron had not heard, would surely fall off his broom comic. Harry smiled mental image of the antics of his friends, basking in the feeling of support and affection that he had sent the morning after his arrival, when they spoke of the prophecy.
After an indeterminate time in the past lounging lazily in his bed got up and got ready for the day. When Harry came into the kitchen in full sun greeted the room through the windows, the smell of breakfast and gave him mouth-watering.
"Good morning." Greeted entering. He was immediately greeted by a chorus of birthday wishes: the radiant "Happy Birthday, Harry," Hermione and Ginny, the "Happy birthday dear" Mrs. Weasley, the chirpy "happy birthday Harrì" Fleur, as always plastered on the side of his smiling boyfriend, who waved a hand wishing him "Happy Birthday", Ron was not yet fallen. Once, at Christmas, his friend Red told him that his face was ecstatic for a child of five years. Harry thought at the time did not have to be very different, but he felt justified, considering that the Dursleys was not invited to the birth and that his birthday had been forgotten or, worse, ignored. His birthday had ended up being just another day. Until I went to Hogwarst.
"Harry dear, happy birthday." Mrs. Weasley repeated, giving him a hug that made him feel happy at the same time embarrassed. "It is rather late ..."
"I am very sorry Mrs. Weasley," the boy blushed, realizing that, apart from Mr. Weasley was probably at work, all the others had waited for breakfast.
"No, no, dear, no need to apologize! It 's your birthday, after all, "Mrs. Weasley said hastily," only that Ron has not yet awakened, and now you're here too, there's really no reason not to wake him, "Hermione saw the boy puffing out of the corner of 'eye. "I'll go if he wants to" Harry offered, already imagining different methods brutal and fun to wake his best friend.
"You are very kind dear, thank you," said the woman, not knowing or pretending not to know why Harry was so helpful to the mission. The two younger girls, however, seemed to know the size of the undertaking if the "good luck" Ginny was an indication. Both girls giggled, and Harry noticed that seemed a lot closer in recent days. Harry thought that her friend Curly was probably very happy to share the room with the red girl, especially when compared with its usual roommates at school: Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown. He always had the impression that, although the three dorm mates were on good terms, Hermione had never very emotionally tied to the other two.
Trying to make as little noise as possible, which is not easy, given that the den had not just magically collapsing the air, but it was all a crackling, Harry traveled all odd stairs to the landing of Ron.
A life of sneaking, and the Dursleys, where his presence was to be invisible mallet, both in his walks at night Hogwarst, had provided the boy haired blacks of an agile and stealthy step of which was rather proud. His plan was to go quietly into the bedroom of his friend (although, probably, Ron would not wake even if Hagrid it were entered) and then brutally beat him with that horrible orange pillow Ron held the chair in his desk. The friend would be shocked. Lowered quickly but silently opened the door handle; opened the door ... and stopped half way, even with the door half open. As was his mouth.
Ron was not sleeping at all, in fact he was quite active at the time. He was lying on his back, left leg bent, and if this position formed a light curtain between her legs, did not prevent the movement of the sheet and the right arm of his friend, were pretty explanatory of what was happening. Explaining how and ansata breaths held. After sharing a dormitory with four boys for five years, Harry had become quite used to hearing, to recognize and endure the noise of someone who masturbates. But that didn't make it less embarrassing at the time.
Besides, he had never seen someone do it directly, because their beds were Hogwarst canopy, and thanks to God all the curtains pulled. Feeling blushing from head to foot, he stepped back quietly, leaving the door ajar, not daring to close it now that he knew that his friend was quite awake. For the same reason had not the courage to leave. And then, if he dropped what he should say to Mrs. Weasley? "I'm sorry ma'am, but Ron is masturbating right now, so I'm going to call him later. Oh, but don't worry, apparently he's already awake. ". No, he would expect that Ron was over, waited a little longer, and then would come in, making as much noise as possible (even before enter), and behaving as if he knew nothing. The last part was essential.
He too was woken up with the incredible desire to masturbate, and times when he succumbed to the temptation, he fervently hoped that the dorm-mates hadn't heard. He was sure that could not be always so lucky, but appreciated that it not be mentioned. In fact, every now and then, Seamus and Dean were some awkward allusions in the morning, if they were woken to the sound of some friend masturbating in the night. But this, if it had intimidated at first, had never stopped anyone for very long. Harry had always tried to do as little and as quietly as possible. But waking up because of the desires of others was almost more embarrassing than waking up to their own. This is because Harry never knew how to behave. And it was very embarrassing to discover that, at times, his body was found sensitive to the mere sound of someone 'having sex with himself.' On those occasions he had ignored his body, and stop. He also discovered that think of Arthur and Molly Weasley intent in the conception of their numerous children greatly helped to reduce arousal.
When from the Ron's bed came of pain muffled a grunt, followed by panting sighs, Harry continued to pretend does not exist, hoping that his friend ricomponesse immediately. He cursed his 'little-Harry' in the jealously asking the same treatment he had received Ron's one. Thanking for once the baggy pants of his cousin Dudley, Harry waited a little longer listening to the remix of his friend on the other side of the door. Then he jumped up onto the step below the landing, hoping that the noise does not prove too obvious or too sudden, and then back to the door of Ron lowering the handle firmly even if the door was ajar and entering, almost shouting:
"Wake up sleepy head!"
The red friend was in bed, his hands clutching the edge of the sheet tight and flushed face, probably for several reasons.
"For Merlin's pants, Harry, you made me do a shot," he said with an air agitated and upset that he was very convincing, and, in fact, very authentic. Trying not to blush blacks haired boy said quickly:
"I'm sorry. Your mom sent me to wake up. They're all waiting to have breakfast together, "
"Oh, oh. OK ... um. I actually wanted to take a quick shower, you start well, I'll join you in a hurry "
"Okay, if you say it's ok" Harry shrugged, in what he hoped was a nonchalant way, and averting his eyes reddened by his friend, was soon at the door, not wanting more than to be out of there.
"Oh, Harry!" The boy froze on the landing.
"Yes?" He asked, peering through the door. Ron looked rather embarrassed. O my God, I was caught!
"Happy Birthday"
... Oh! Harry felt a smile by dividing the face.
"Thanks!" Now Ron looked amused, probably by his reaction. Still smiling, the blacks haired boy walked away shouting "and move if you want to find some more sausage"
Back in the kitchen, Harry found rather annoyed Mrs. Weasley, Ginny looked eager and the plate of sausages. Bill was still distracted with Fleur.
"Good Lord, Harry," Hermione said, "why it took you soo much?"
Harry blushed
"Um .." his first impulse was to answer "Ron just don't want to wake up", but surely she would have complained to Ron, and Harry would have been discovered. "I'm sorry, my fault: I forgot to write something on the rate of Transfiguration and I went to write it down before I forget again," What a bad excuse!
Hermione looked at him a little surprise but a little proud, but puzzled Ginny raised an eyebrow. Before anyone could say anything, Harry turned to Mrs. Weasley "Ron said to start without him, because he wanted to take a shower," a series of puffs from various directions, and while everyone grumbled about his friend, the boy drew a sigh of relief and sat down, following the example of Ginny , who had already taken a sausage.
-.-MLI-.-
Mrs. Weasley had organized a small party for the evening, and seemed determined that everything was perfect and without a shadow of bad news. Nevertheless, when members of the order came, they did so accompanied by bad news.
"What? Is Florian Fortinbras gone?" Harry asked, having read that piece of conversation between Bill and Lupin.
"Yes," replied Bill, "but he, unlike Ollivander, has certainly given battle"
"But, think he's alive?" Harry was quite impressed with the news of the disappearance of the ice cream man. The idea that Ollivander, the historic designer chopsticks, had disappeared was disturbing, but Harry was, in a sense, more upset for Florian. Firstly because, while the talented of the old designer could be somewhat attractive for the Dark Lord (especially with the knowledge of nucleus Gemini), unlike the ice cream could not be of much use, or too much bother for Voldemort. Unless the crazy annoying find worthy to be made to disappear, all that is disassociated from him.
"There wasn't a black mark, and this leads us to suppose that he has saved, but we can not say with certainty. "Bill continued.
"Yes, well, there is no need to talk about this now ..." Mrs. Weasley tried, once again, to stop the depressing topics.
"I hope he's right," Harry said, looking back on his stay in Diagon Alley, when he was 13 years old (after having inflated his Aunt Marge), when he went from the muscular ice-cream man least once a day.
"Did you know him?" Hermione asked.
Harry smiled, remembering the easy smile tattooed man, that every day had an excuse to offer a huge ice cream, winked to him. "He always offered me the ice cream ... I really liked"
Ron chuckle, "I can imagine. I think I might like Mr. Filch if he ever offer me an ice cream "
Harry snorted, "I doubt it. He was still very kind beyond the offering of ice cream. I helped me with my homework, they knew a lot things about burning of witches, and then ... "
"Really?" Said Hermione, already more interested, and looking a bit surprised.
Ron raised his eyes to heaven, with a grunt mixture of laughter and a sound of disapproval "Did you think that tattoos man were all ignorant louts?"
"No," said Hermione, alarmed by the prosecution, even if the redness suddenly appeared on his face said otherwise. When the red skeptical raised an eyebrow in her direction she blushed even more "I mean," she added, bringing her long fingers to haunt curly hair in a gesture of embarrassment that her friends knew very well, "I don't think all tattoos are ignorant louts. But I always thought that Florian Fortinbras had looked a little ... like a pirate "
Harry smiled at the image of the ice-cream man with a bandana on his head and a sword in his hand. Ron chuckled the first to cry out with enthusiastic tone:
"And that's what makes it cool," said Ron. The curly-haired friend snorted.
"I beg to differ," said acid, regaining her composure, "is not enough that a person has long hair, signs of unshaven, tattooed and muscular arms to be 'cool'. In fact, I think that most people with these characteristics are, in fact, quite unpleasant. "
"Ok," said the red stubborn expression "then, more precisely, I was referring to a pirate without the smell of alcohol and sweat, with all the teeth clean and healthy, with no legs of wood, and all eyes in their place ".
Hermione tried unsuccessfully to turn the laugh into a cough. Ron smiled, rather pleased, as he had a tendency to do when he could draw a smile to the reluctantly girl.
Harry chuckled expression of his friend, and about Hermione and the way in which he regained his composure quickly. The celebrated sound of Fleur's chirping on his right, where she had direct conversations on more cheerful, with the great pleasure of Molly, caught his attention. Although, in the Harry's opinion, Mrs. Weasley should reconsider her position, because the French girl had begun, even, to speak of her marriage to Bill. The bridegroom was enjoying the sausages, just participating in the conversation, and Harry wondered idly if it were not for the argument around exasperation, or total confidence in the organizational skills of his girlfriend. Or maybe it was just his way of doing things. The blacks-haired boy didn't know a lot of the major Weasley, but he had never seen rough, even when the Death Eaters, two summers ago, the World Cup, had begun to create havoc at the campsite. Looking at the guy with long red hair, who would not have seemed out of place at a rock concert, Harry smiled and turned back to his friends, who were still bickering.
"I'm not biased Ron," Hermione now seemed more annoyed than offended "really, it's just a percentage, how many other people who... look different are not, don't say bad, but at least ... eccentric." The red mouth opened, then closed, squinting in concentration.
"Bill, for example," has infiltrated Harry "has long hair, earring and has numerous other trinkets, and seems to have a passion for the skin."
"There!" Said Ron triumphantly, looking puzzled the girl with his 1000 watt smile, dimples forming freckled cheeks. The girl glanced at Bill, and Harry urged:
"Do You think he would be unpleasant if he had tattooed?"
Ron choked unexpectedly in his bite. Hermione looked at him raising an eyebrow, opening his mouth to comment on something (surely the chewing technique of their friend), but then her eyes spun to Bill, her ears becoming a fire, and the girl gasp. Harry was puzzled for a moment, but when Hermione's brown eyes shone with surprise and curiosity, speculatively jumping on Bill, he felt his eyes widen their understanding.
"Has he got one?" The girl whispered freckled friend.
Ron continued to cough. Hermione handed him the glass of pumpkin juice with a touch of impatience. The boy drank a little, red ears, even to suffocation, before whispering, "should be a secret, don't tell Mom. I shouldn't even know it "
"Doesn't your mother know it?" She asked with a slightly surprised tone
"Hey, my mom doesn't know everything. And then, you saw what she thinks of Bill's long hair .. " he whispered, looking nervously at his mother, as if expecting that suddenly she began to scream.
"What is it?" Said Harry. He couldn't say why it was so strange, but it was. If he had to imagine someone with a tattoo, then it would be Charlie. It was not difficult to imagine the muscular guy with a dragon painted on colored flesh. In addition, it would be in keeping with his work. Perhaps his mind had connected the idea of the tattoo in the muscles? Stereotypes, like that of tattoos and yokels.
"I don't know what it is, but…I know where" he added, reddened, after a little hesitation.
Harry raised an eyebrow, curious, and Hermione threw another glance in the direction of Bill, before returning to Ron questioningly. Their friend cleared his throat and came whispering.
"Well, I once heard Fred and George who spoke. They'd seen Bill in the bathroom, take a shower, and had noticed the tattoo, but they hadn't understood what it represented "Ron expectations. Them as well.
"So?" Urged the girl, angrily. Harry smiled, obviously Red was now enjoying the attention, and waited the impatiently girl asked the to continue.
"Well, it was ..." The voice of Ron died suddenly and blushedas, if he had noticed that was saying something strange. "Well, ... Er ... it was, you know, down there," Harry felt his eyes become more inclusive. Under? As… in? It will not be ... God, this was hurt!
The boy turned away by his tomato-colored and saw Hermione stiffened, her hands shooting back to haunt her hair. Then, after a silent pause, the girl forced them in her lap, and stared at Ron firmly, with a light dusting of pink on the cheeks.
"No, I don't know," she said. Harry continued to stare ... what? "I don't know what you mean by 'down there'." Ron looked at Hermione as though she had another head checked. Harry wished he had pulled out Bill. This was a conversation that he didn't want to have with Hermione. No, this was a conversation that he didn't want to have. Point.
"You know," Ron tried again, with red ears, but the puzzled expression, "the story of the bee, the stinger ..." O God! Harry felt a slight warmth on the cheeks ablaze in a fire.
"Ron," Hermione looked at his friend, still red ... but almost offended. "Perhaps, you think I have never read a book on sex education?" O God! ... How could she say 'that word' in front of his friends ...? "I asked only to be more precise." Then, composing and gaining security, added "and less childish. In short, we are all sixteen year olds here. Surely you can tell if you mean pubic area, groin or something" Oh! My! God!
Harry felt he was going to die from spontaneous combustion. It was certain. Ron seemed to be under the same conditions: red and wide-eyed disbelief. If for the subject or the way Hermione was facing it, Harry didn't know. On the other hand, the girl had never been ashamed of anything that had anything to do with knowledge, education se… that, shouldn't be an exception. An image of his curly friend absorbed to take notes, with enthusiasm and diligence, on a book of sex education, appeared spontaneously in his head. Oh God! This has made him feel very small, insignificant and immature, and strangely fascinated and impressed. His stomach twisted into curious, tight knots. Oh God!
"Er ..." Ron didn't seem to be able to take my eyes off Hermione, who seemed to strive to look impassive. The red boy cleared his throat before trying again "um ... pubis. I think. Pubis. "
"Oh." Was all Hermione said, still a little tense. But, once deemed the news, she and Harry couldn't resist to throw a quick glance at Bill, as if expecting a big indicative arrow.
"Yeah." Ron began to babble, clearly nervous and embarrassed. "That is a great place if you don't want people to see it. Above all Mom, I mean. Of course it has to do a hell of hurt. Anyway, Mom would kill him. He was too young. Or, certainly, she thinks he was. I was seven years old when I heard the conversation between Fred and George. But then she would kill him today even. 'You're such a nice guy, why spoil your body' "
"Well, not entirely wrong." Hermione interrupted him, now much more relaxed and without a trace of awkward conversation, "Why get a tattoo?" Asked again, bringing the conversation to the beginning, before the brackets gossip.
"It's not a way to disfigure your body!" said Ron, still stubbornly "is ... An ornament, a decoration."
Hermione raised an eyebrow, "A decoration? On the pubis? "
"Ok." He said seriously looking at her, with an air of determination, trying not to blush, "a decoration very private" Hermione broke into a smile.
Harry thought Sirius suddenly. At his godfather like to talk about tattoos ... and also 'anatomy'. He smiled to himself, recalling a night in Grimuald Place when Sirius and Remus had been drinking a bit 'too much.
"Sirius told me that some of his tattoos had made in memory of something," he added suddenly. He didn't know what had made him say, and felt a little uncomfortable noting that his friends suddenly became silent. Knowing that they were just worried about him, Harry smiled, to let them know he was fine. They reciprocated.
"It's very sweet," said Hermione in a gentle voice.
Harry chuckled, a little embarrassed, a little imagining the face that Sirius would have to hear that his many and impressive tattoos he had earned the adjective 'sweet'. Harry was pretty sure them were also a sign of rebellion from his parents. He remembered the quote, below the rear base of the neck, which read "Children begin by loving Their parents. After a time They judge them. Rarely, if ever, do they forgive them." That in addition to being a clear sign of how he felt toward his parents, it was also a quote Muggle, Oscar Wilde, said Sirius.
Recalling the back of his godfather, Harry noticed that Sirius wasn't overly muscular, not as Florian Fortinbras or Charlie, but had a lot of tattoos. Harry tried to imagine himself as a tattoo ... No, he couldn't. Pout inwardly, idly wondered why he liked to see tattoos decorating the bodies of others but not able to really imaginal on himself.
"Well," Ron said, interrupting his thoughts, and looking a little green, "I don't want to think about what could have made my brother, 15 years old, to want to impress in his memoirs, which could be connected with his pubis."
At this Harry's eyes widened and he laughed, feeling Hermione do the same next to him.
-.-MLI-.-
Harry was standing idly on the bed, looking at the ceiling. He didn't matter that Ron and Hermione didn't believe him. Frankly, I was so sure he was right, that he knew that eventually they too would understand. Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater. His two best friends had laughed at the idea, but Harry was sure. Malfoy had acted strangely and in a suspicious manner, more than usual, and neither Ron nor Hermione had found a plausible hypothesis.
The trio had met the blond boy a few days before, in Diagon Alley. The day after Harry's birthday, came to the burrow the letters of Hogwarst, containing lists of books. The youngest boy also contained a brooch as a captain. Deciding not to send more, after a few days, they were organized to go shopping in Diagon Alley. Mrs. Weasley had wished that there was also the husband, and was very tense and anxious about idea to get out 'these days'. Ron had taken a good dressing down, making a joke about Voldemort, but he had learned to be quiet, for fear that mother wouldn't allow him to go see the new shop of Fred and George.
The group went to Diagon Alley on board of Ministry's machines. Harry was almost a heart attack thinking angrily that he had to walk down the street with an escort. But was happy to find that 'escort' was none other than Hagrid, who had accompanied the trio to Madam Mc Clan. And it was there that they met Malfoy, with his dear mother.
Despite hours Lucius was in Azkaban, Draco and his mother still treated everyone as if they were something nasty stuck to the soles of their expensive shoes. This actually rendered Harry even safer his theory: bet that Draco would feel honored receive orders by Voldemort. This was their conception of pureblood? Someone willing to bow in front of a homicidal maniac, among other things with muggle father, if the Riddel's diary was a clue. Well, if Draco Malfoy had some mission commissioned by Voldemort, and Harry was sure, then he would have discovered what it was. And Ron and Hermione would see he was right.
About Ron ... Harry stood up, deciding to see if his friend had liberated the shower. He picked up his pajamas, his bathroom things, and went to the upstairs. He found the shower still running on the other side of the door. He knock loudly.
"Ron, are you still here?" He asked.
No response. He tried again, screaming.
"RON?"
"YES?"
"Do you have done, yet?"
Silence. A groan. then:
"Hell, man! I'm sorry, I didn't notice the time."
Harry snorted. " Really, Ron, you take it longer that a girl!"
"CONCORD !» the green-eyes boy jumped in front of the door to Ginny's voice, coming from behind a door on the landing, where we deduced was the girls' room.
"SHUT UP!" Ron yelled back. The water is finally extinguished. Harry chuckled. In factboth Ron and Ginny put us a lot.
Shortly after Ron went out with wet hair and only his pajama bottoms.
"Fuck, I'm sorry!" He said all reddened by the heat and the embarrassment of being 40 minutes in the shower.
Harry chuckled at the blast of humid heat that came out of the bathroom door with his friend, "What have you done? A sauna?" Ron's ears became, if possible, even more red. Now it seemed really embarrassed.
"Yes, uh, I was relaxing ... .. and, mh, I lost the time," Red friend nervously ran a hand on her stomach, a nervous gesture that Harry had seen it often, to his amusement. Although now, since the lack of t-shirt from Ron, it would be easier saying 'on the stomach', rather than 'on the stomach'. God, he had done a hell of hot in that bathroom! And it was really wrapping.
He looked up on embarrassed hazel eyes of his friend, putting a finger into the collar of his large t-shirt and away from the neck, that began to feel wet and hot. God it's so hot!
"Yes, well, I don't know how you're not dead for hot in here ..."
"Oh, I'm sorry ..." and then, as if he had noticed that he was still of the doorway, he jumping out, passing close to Harry without the courage to watch him.
"Are you okay?" Okay embarrassment... but this.
The red gave a strange laugh, "well" they looked for a moment. Then Ron smiled and said "forget it" gave him one of his usual pat on the shoulder before turning to his room and start saying "bathroom is your!"
Harry looked puzzled, then shrugged his shoulders, refusing to understand what whirred for the head of his friend.
He entered in the vapor that was the bathroom after a shower of a friend, took off his clothes and used his shirt to dry from steam a corner of shelf where to place his things. He opened the window a little, to try to let out some steam without taking a hell. After years at the Dursleys was something that Harry did regularly. They always leave him the last to take a shower, so they should clean up their mess. And Ron, in comparison to Harry's cousin, who was more orderly, perhaps because Dudley was a mess on purpose. Considering that Harry had a quarter of an hour since Dudley had gone out to find the bathroom shiny and clean, dark-haired boy had quickly learned to be quick.
Sure, Harry had also learned to relax, since he had gone to Hogwarst. Once, in the second year, had even tried to blame all the comfort of the world. Seamus insisted that a long hot shower was what he needed to relax for the "mysterious" events that followed the kidnapping of Ginny. Harry has always suspected that he felt guilty for thinking of him as the heir of Slytherin. Ridiculous! However, after 15 minutes Harry was running out of ideas on how to pass the time. He had to admit that over the years he discovered that the shower was great for other things ... sometimes, sleeping in a dormitory with four other boys, was the place where you could get privacy ...
Harry froze, hands on stomach who was soaping. The thought that had just been built over one of Ron, on the morning of his birthday, and Ron, embarrassed after spending 40 minutes in the shower. Embarrassed after that Harry ask him what he's done for long time… Could it be ...? No, no. Better not think about it ... Fuck! Harry watched the twitching of his impertinent partner. Damn it. Harry felt to go up in flames for embarrassed, though (thank God!) there was nobody to see him. The boy sighed heavily supporting the front of the cold tiles. Why was he always excited in the last days? Adolescence. Harry considered a moment the remix of his nether regions. He felt the familiar sensation of warmth in his loins, and that particular feeling his cock that could be described only as a request for attention. With a sigh of resignation and defiance, slowly brought his hand down, on his abdominals, between the few locks of his pubis, and down even more.
Meanwhile, it reached a thought: if he and Ron had a clue, this year would be rather embarrassing live in five in the dormitory.
AN: Here! I hope you enjoyed. I enjoyed writing this chapter, especially the part about tattoos.
I ask again apologize for the numerous grammatical errors, and not only that (Find a beta reader is more difficult than I thought). I hope you will forgive me, even for a long time since the last chapter, noting that this is longer than the previous ones.
In the next chapter we go for Hogwarst Experss.
As always: Comments are very welcome and very useful (I'm glad for the fav and for alerts, but I hope in some comments - that is an insatiable girl- : p) So let me know what you think!