Actions

Work Header

Notches on a Broomstick

Work Text:

Harry acquired the first notch on his broomstick when he was thirteen.

Quidditch practice had finished, but Harry persuaded Oliver to let him practice with the Snitch for a while longer, just by himself, while the rest of the team showered and changed.

By the time dusk had fallen and Harry reluctantly decided he had to stop, the only person left in the locker room was Oliver himself, standing under a steaming spray of water with his eyes half closed, his hand pumping his jutting cock.

Harry's mouth went dry at the sight. In the past few months he'd had dreams that frequently ended with him waking up with his hand inside his pajama bottoms, wanking himself, dreams that might feature any of a number of partners but not infrequently Oliver. To see Oliver naked was nothing new, although Harry usually tried not to stare lest he have an embarrassing reaction, but to see Oliver naked and jerking himself off was irresistible.

Giving no thought to the consequences, Harry stripped faster than he had ever done in his life, and in no more than a minute, he was on his knees in front of Oliver, being soaked by the warm water.

Oliver jumped backward, nearly into the wall. "Harry? Merlin's beard, what –"

Harry didn't wait for him to finish, fearing that Oliver might stop him. He put a hand on Oliver's hip to steady himself and parted his lips to suck the head of Oliver's cock.

It was like a giant lolly, only better, despite a hint of bitterness. Instinctively he let his throat relax, trying to take in Oliver's full length, and bobbed his head up and down. Oliver's fingers tangled in his hair. At first Harry thought Oliver meant to push him away, but instead Oliver pressed him closer, moaning. Harry wriggled his tongue. Oliver groaned again, and his spunk shot into the back of Harry's throat. He choked and coughed and pulled away, swallowing and wiping his mouth.

Between the water and having taken off his glasses, he couldn't see Oliver's face clearly until Oliver knelt beside him and stroked his dripping hair out of his eyes. Oliver didn't look angry, only surprised. That gave Harry enough courage to mumble, "I really wanted to do that. I hope it's all right."

Oliver rested his hand on Harry's shoulder. "You mustn't let anyone else know, Harry. We could both get into trouble."

"I won't," Harry promised. He reached to stroke his own needy prick, but Oliver forestalled him, jerking him to a rapid orgasm. As his come pulsed out with pleasure beyond any he had found by himself, Harry decided that from now on, he would have sex with others whenever possible – and not necessarily just with Oliver, who would leave Hogwarts soon anyhow.

His next opportunity was again in the Quidditch locker room, but this time it was the Weasley twins on whom he walked in. They were tightly embraced, kissing deeply enough that Harry wondered how they could breathe. He was so startled by the sight that he dropped his broom to the floor, and the resulting clatter alerted the twins that he was there.

"We have an audience, Fred," said George.

"I do believe we do," agreed Fred. "Question is, does he want to remain an audience?"

They both raised their eyebrows at Harry at the same moment.

Harry licked his lips. "Do you – do you mean I could join in?" he stammered.

"Spot on, Harry. Always thought you were a clever chap." George held out a hand. "Come here. Have you ever done this before?"

"Er…" Harry blushed. He had promised Oliver not to say anything, after all.

"With another bloke, he means," Fred clarified.

Harry nodded reluctantly as the twins' hands started peeling his clothes away to reveal his cock, already springing to life.

"What a lovely prick," said Fred, running his hand along it and cupping Harry's bollocks.

"A lovely arse, too," said George from behind Harry. He patted Harry's arsecheeks. "Sandwich?"

"Excellent idea, George." Fred knelt down in front of Harry. "Spread those feet apart a bit, Harry."

As Harry did so he heard George murmur something, and his arse tingled.

"What was that?"

"Cleaning charm, that's all," answered George soothingly, and before Harry could ask why he needed it, he felt something warm and wet trace along his crack. He almost jumped out of his skin when he realized it was George's tongue, licking, oh god, slithering into his arsehole. He moaned.

"Nice, isn't it? George is fantastic at that," said Fred. "But just wait."

Harry glanced down just as Fred took his cock into his mouth. Fred's hands were still busy with Harry's bollocks, caressing and gently stretching them. Harry trembled. His legs felt as though they might give way; he seemed almost to be floating on Fred and George's touches.

Not rapidly, but thoroughly, the twins licked and sucked and stroked him until Harry was poised on the brink of coming. Then they stopped, leaving Harry whimpering, staggering, desperate. Fred grasped Harry's thighs, thumbs rubbing over tight muscles, and looked up.
"How badly do you want it, Harry?"

"Please," Harry begged. "Please, Fred, please, George. I'll do anything you want."

Fred's grin had an edge of wicked satisfaction. "All right."

His mouth enveloped Harry's prick once more, just as George's tongue probed into him.

Harry cried out as he came deep into Fred's mouth. He could feel his arsehole contracting around George's tongue with the same rhythm as his pulsing cock. He would have fallen if the twins hadn't supported him, lowering him gently to the floor.

Harry blinked up at the two identical freckled faces above him. "What do you want me to do, then?"

"Just watch us," said George.

"We've always wanted an audience," added Fred.

They started kissing again. Harry felt a little squeamish, not because of the kissing itself, but because George's tongue had been in his arse only moments before. It didn't seem to bother Fred, however, since he was moaning and pulling George closer. Harry wriggled out from beneath them and sat cross-legged to watch, as promised.

"My turn to bottom," mumbled George between kisses. "You cast the charm."

Fred peered around at Harry. "Do you know the lubrication charm?"

"I think so. Lubricio?"

"That's right. Cast it for us?"

Harry licked his lips, fumbled for his wand, and put the tip of it against George's arse. "Lubricio!"

"Mmm," sighed George. "That feels right. Nice job, Harry."

Blushing at the compliment, Harry put his wand down and watched as Fred moved behind George, who got down on all fours.

"Do you have to do it from behind?" he asked.

Fred shook his head. "But from in front the person bottoming has to lift his legs high."

"Quit arsing around, Fred," said George impatiently.

Fred rolled his eyes at Harry and grinned. "Pushy today, are we? Is this from having had delicious little Harry under your tongue?"

"Fuck, yeah," said George. "He was even tighter than you when we first did it. Now fuck me, you prat."

Harry watched with fascination as Fred pushed his swollen prick into George's arse. It didn't seem like it should fit, but it did, and both twins groaned in pleasure when Fred was all the way inside.

"Now," Fred murmured, and began to thrust, slowly at first but picking up speed. George turned his head to Harry. "Touch me?"

Harry moved closer and positioned himself so that he could stroke George's cock with one hand, while still watching Fred's prick pistoning in and out of George's arse. Fred was mumbling a stream of filthy encouragement to his brother, his head flung back and a flush of blood visible on his face and chest.

"Harder, Harry," urged George, and Harry complied, tightening his grip and pumping George still faster until George came with a groan, his spunk splashing through Harry's fingers onto the tile below. A moment later Fred cried out and collapsed forward onto George's back.

"Thanks, Harry," they said in unison. "That was wicked."

"You're welcome," said Harry, grinning back.

Playing Quidditch provided opportunities to find partners for sex – three in under two months was quite a score – but Harry thought he might like to broaden the playing field, so to speak. For one thing he was curious about girls, too. The older boys on the Gryffindor team had been happy to fool around with Harry, but the girls didn't seem that interested in younger boys.

He had better luck with Hannah Abbott, a Hufflepuff whom he knew slightly from Herbology and bumped into, quite literally, one day in the library. Harry put out his hands to catch himself and one palm accidentally landed on her breast. He began to stammer an apology, but Hannah only giggled and said, "That's all right, Harry."

There was no one else on that aisle. Hannah glanced around and took hold of Harry's shoulders to pull him toward her for a kiss.

"If that's my reward for apologizing, I should apologize to you more often," Harry said when she let him go.

"Oh really?" Hannah's eyebrows went up. "I wouldn't mind that. Are you doing anything Tuesday night, after dinner?"

Harry shook his head.

"Meet me in Greenhouse One then," she said.

Tuesday night Harry was careful to bring along his Herbology book, just in case anyone saw him, but Herbology was far from both of their minds. Hannah was cuddly and affectionate, and she let Harry open her robes in front until he could see her breasts. They were small, but Harry thought they were beautiful, creamy mounds tipped with rosy nipples, tempting him. When he sucked one, Hannah giggled, but she seemed to enjoy it.

Harry fumbled under her robes. She let him do that, too, although she wouldn't allow more than feeling over her knickers. It was quite different from pumping on another boy's cock, but he rubbed circles over the damp cotton until Hannah was panting and trembling and pressing herself against him, so that he felt quite certain in his own mind that he had made her come.

She seemed shyer about touching him, but with Harry's encouragement she put her hand up his robes and stroked the bulge of his cock through his pants. The friction of the fabric between them stimulated even though it also chafed a little, and Harry came quickly.

"It smells funny," Hannah said, sniffing at her hand.

Harry smelled his own fingers and agreed; there was a definite difference between her girl-scent and what he had smelled on Oliver and the twins, not to mention himself.

It had been fun to be with Hannah, but Harry worried that she might think he wanted them to be boyfriend and girlfriend. He wasn't sure he was ready for that. Luckily she didn't push, and it was nearly the end of spring term.

When everyone came back to Hogwarts in the autumn and Harry's name popped out of the Goblet of Fire, Hannah stood squarely behind her fellow Hufflepuff Cedric as the true Hogwarts Champion. That ended any possibility that she might want to be with Harry, even just for sex.

On the whole Harry was relieved, but he still wanted to have more sex with girls. He'd sucked off Oliver, but he was curious what a girl tasted like.

Not that he turned down further opportunities with boys. A little discreet watching and listening had convinced Harry that there was rather more sexual experimentation going on around him than he had realized before. Much of it was intra-House, and Harry wondered if that meant that certain techniques and practices might be more highly developed in Gryffindor than in Ravenclaw, or vice versa, and the same with all the Houses. He decided he would try to have sex with partners from all the Houses, if possible both a boy and a girl from each, so as to test his theory.

Slytherin he decided to postpone for the time being; there was just too much antagonism between Gryffindor and Slytherin, but perhaps that would change in the future. It couldn't get worse. In the meantime he had several possibilities in mind: Cedric, his fellow Champion and a Hufflepuff, who as a seventh year ought to have plenty of experience; Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw seeker, even though she also seemed interested in Cedric; and perhaps Hermione, who even if she wasn't agreeable to the idea would certainly not gossip about him. He didn't know any Ravenclaw boys well enough to have any of them on his mental list yet.

Harry began with Cedric, since he still felt a little more comfortable with other boys than with girls. It took quite a while to come up with a strategy to get Cedric alone, and in the meantime he continued messing around with the Weasley twins when he had the chance. Eventually Harry found an opportunity when Cedric suggested that Harry take a bath with his dragon's egg. After he had done so, the next time he saw Cedric in the corridor between classes he pulled Cedric aside.

"I wanted to thank you for giving me that hint about the egg," he murmured, looking up at Cedric and making his smile flirtatious. "I'm not sure I've quite worked it out completely, though. Maybe you could meet me in the Prefects' Bath tonight, and we could compare what we each have?"

Harry let the tip of his tongue show for just a moment between his lips, hoping that Cedric would understand the hint.

Cedric blinked a few times before comprehension flooded his face.

"Nine o'clock," he replied under his breath.

Harry was there by ten minutes before nine, filling the tub with warm bubbles, careful not to make the water too hot. He kept his glasses on as he undressed and slipped into the tub, fisting his cock lazily in anticipation. Lost in his fantasies, he jumped when he heard Cedric's voice.

"Did you bring your egg?"

"No. That was just an excuse."

Cedric nodded, pulling off his robes and tossing them onto a bench. "I figured as much."

Watching Cedric strip, Harry admired his physique. The older boy had a nicely developed chest with a sprinkling of light brown hair, and a shapely arse. His prick swung freely, soft for the moment, but as Harry watched it began to swell. Harry licked his lips and dragged his gaze up as Cedric came toward him and lowered himself into the water. The bath was deep enough that standing, the water lapped above Cedric's waist and to Harry's chest. Cedric stooped slightly and they began kissing, their skin sliding against each other in the slippery bubbles. Harry sighed happily into Cedric's mouth and pressed himself even closer. He could feel Cedric's cock, now fully erect against him, and rubbed his own against Cedric's inner hip. Cedric's hands traveled down Harry's back and squeezed his arsecheeks.

"Have you ever thigh-fucked?" asked Cedric, biting Harry's neck.

"No," said Harry with a gasp.

"In water like this, I think it's the best. Here." Cedric reached for Harry's cock, pushing it to aim slightly down, so that it slid past Cedric's bollocks and between his thighs. "You're shorter than I am, so you stand on tiptoe and I'll bend my knees."

Rising up onto his toes, Harry felt the head of Cedric's cock nudge against his bollocks, then move between his legs. They rocked back and forth together, each movement sliding their cocks into the tight space between each other's thighs. Cedric was right, it was lovely. The water kept the friction from becoming too great, and they could kiss and nip at each other as they moved. Cedric kept a hand on Harry's arse, his forefinger sliding down into the crack to press gently against the pucker of his anus. After a moment, Harry did the same to Cedric, and found that it gave against his finger tip, welcoming him in. He guessed that Cedric had had more than a finger inside before, and wondered who the lucky boy was. He wasn't sure he was up for that quite yet himself, although he had very much enjoyed having George's tongue there in the past, and Cedric's finger now.

Harry was sweating from the heat of the water and of Cedric's body. He clutched Cedric tighter still, panting. His orgasm took him almost by surprise, spilling out into the water as he clutched convulsively at Cedric's arse. His whole body stiffened with it, thighs flexing, and he heard Cedric groan.

He blinked his eyes open. His glasses had come askew and he straightened them. Despite the droplets of water that spattered the lenses, he could see that the mermaid in the picture on the wall was smiling at him and making a gesture of approval. He supposed that she had seen the all this sort of thing before, and evidently enjoyed it.

To Cedric he said, "I think the mermaid watched us."

Cedric chuckled. "Probably. She always does when I wank in here, too."

Harry gave a little wriggle at the thought of someone watching him do that. It would be more fun with a real person, though, who might join in.

Having had sex with Cedric in the Prefects' Bath didn't make them any less rivals for the Triwizard cup, and although Cedric had obviously enjoyed what they'd done he was disinclined to repeat it. That was all right with Harry. He wanted to try being with a girl again. He was busy preparing for the third task, but Cedric was even busier, since it was his N.E.W.T. year and he had extra studying to do. Harry took advantage of that to talk with Cho sometimes.

They started off talking about Cedric, but soon Harry managed to slip in how attractive he thought Cho was. She blushed, but agreed to meet him that evening up on the Astronomy Tower. It was a cloudy night, so no one else no one was likely to be there working on an assignment.

By now Harry had sufficient experience that he felt comfortable kissing Cho and running his hands along her body through her robes. When she arched against him, he murmured what he hoped to do, and slightly to his surprise, she agreed right away. She leaned against the wall and hiked up her robes. Harry knelt in front of her. Cho wore no knickers, which hinted strongly that she had anticipated something like this. Harry kissed her leg, then trailed more kisses up to the juncture of her hip, where her thatch of hair brushed his cheek.

Harry would have liked to have some light, both to see what he was doing and simply to see what Cho looked like down there, but he worried that if he stopped to pull out his wand and cast Lumos that Cho would change her mind, and she didn't seem inclined to want light herself. He nuzzled at her, her hair tickling his nose.

"Lower, Harry," she said, and pushed her hips toward him.

His tongue found her slit with its firm nub hidden inside. Harry rested his hands on her thighs and used his thumbs to spread her open, licking a broad stripe up. Cho made a whimpering sound and clutched at his head.

"Oh yes, oh yes…"

Harry kept licking, enjoying the light musky flavor and the way she quivered under his mouth. His prick was stone hard and trapped uncomfortably under the elastic of his pants, but he ignored that to concentrate on Cho. Her moans grew louder. He licked frantically, circling her nub with his tongue again and again until she tensed and cried out and pushed him away, saying, "Enough, oh stop, that's enough."

He sat back on his heels, wiping his mouth, and looked up at her. Cho was slumped against the wall, panting, her robes still drawn up and clutched in one hand. She let them fall and sank to the floor beside him. Her hand found his cock.

"Well?" she murmured.

Harry lost no time in pulling up his robes. Instead of taking off his pants, though, he opted for the quicker approach of pulling his cock out through the fly. Cho stroked it.

"I'm better with hands than mouth at this," she said. "Is that okay with you?"

"That's fine," said Harry with a gasp as she teased his slit with a fingernail. He was in no state to care what Cho did, as long as she did something.

Her fingers seemed to fly over his prick, feeling as though she had ten hands instead of two. She fondled his bollocks through the cotton as well, but mostly she concentrated her efforts on the shaft and head, playing with his foreskin and caressing the sensitive tip. Heat surged within him and he choked out, "Cho, Cho, oh!" His spunk spurted out, barely missing her face to fall in spatters on the stone instead. He sighed with satisfied relief and after a moment fished for his wand to clean up.

"Cho," he began, although he wasn't sure what he wanted to say.

She cut him off with a shake of her head. "No, Harry. For once – we both had a good time, I think, but you mustn't want more."

"All right," Harry said, rather glad that she had made that decision. He didn't fancy having to try to explain to Cedric if the older boy found out… or for that matter having to tell Cho what he'd done with Cedric. Better to leave things as they were.

Hermione looked at him speculatively when he returned to the Gryffindor Common Room, but she said nothing. The rest of the term slipped by, first filled with apprehension over the Third Task, followed by the tragedy of Cedric's death and Harry's own escape from Voldemort.

Harry waited in a fever of angry impatience that summer for letters from Hermione and Ron. None ever came, however often he wrote to them. In between, he hid in his room and wanked, sometimes as often as four or five times a day, remembering his various encounters and fantasizing about what he might try next, and with whom.

Hermione loomed largest in the second category; he still lacked a Gryffindor girl and a Ravenclaw boy, as well as two Slytherins, to achieve his goal of a boy and a girl from each House.

When he was finally rescued from the Dursleys' and taken to Twelve Grimmauld Place, he was dismayed to see that Hermione and Ron seemed closer than ever. That made him even more irritable than the fact that he'd been shuffled off to one side and kept in the dark all summer about what was going on. Harry thought about how he might persuade Hermione to try having sex. He didn't want to be her boyfriend, just stay friends, and at any rate she seemed to have picked out Ron for the boyfriend role… if Ron cooperated, which wasn't certain.

"Hermione?" Harry had managed to find her alone one afternoon, unsurprisingly in the library, after most of a day spent getting rid of doxies.

"What is it, Harry?" Hermione closed her book but kept her finger in the page, which wasn't a good sign.

Harry took a deep breath and decided to simply blurt it out. "I wondered if you would like to have sex with me. I've never done it," which was true in the sense of standard intercourse, anyhow, "and as far as I know you haven't, either, and I thought it would be good to practice how to do it with someone I like but without as much pressure as it would be with a proper girlfriend, you know?"

He said all this very fast, and Hermione stared at him. Harry hoped desperately that he hadn't spoken so quickly she hadn't understood and he would have to repeat himself. After a moment she frowned thoughtfully.

"You want to have sex with me just for practice?"

"Yes." So she had understood.

"All right," said Hermione briskly, closing her book and tossing it onto the end table with a soft thud. "How about in that room that we cleared out this morning? If we use either of our bedrooms, Ginny or Ron might walk in."

"You mean do it right now?"

"Why not? There's no time like the present." Hermione smiled and stood up, taking his hand. "Come on, Harry."

"Now," she said when the door had closed behind them, "you do know the standard contraceptive charms, right? Because I don't have any condoms."

"No," confessed Harry. "I've, um, nothing I've ever done needed contraception, so I've never practiced those charms."

Hermione clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "Well, you'd better learn one. There are different charms for witches and wizards, and hopefully anyone else you sleep with will have taken her own precautions too, but it won't hurt for both of you to use them. The one I know for wizards is Construere, and with your wand you make a kind of circle with a tail, then a diagonal slash. Like this. You're supposed to feel a kind of momentary tightness, er, down there, but if it lasts for more than a few seconds then you've done it wrong."

Awkwardly Harry mimicked the motion that Hermione had demonstrated, repeating, "Construere." As promised, he felt a momentary constriction around his bollocks and the base of his cock, and he grinned at Hermione. "That seems to have done it."

"Good." Hermione murmured something else, presumably the female contraception charm she had mentioned, and began to unbutton her blouse in a businesslike way. Underneath it she had on a bra which was – to Harry's surprise – pink lace. He would have expected Hermione to choose something practical like plain white cotton.

"May I?" he offered as she twisted up her arms behind her back to unhook the bra.

Hermione turned around. Harry fumbled for a moment but soon had it off.

"Oh, bother," said Hermione, reaching for her wand again.

"What?"

"The door." Hermione cast a locking charm, and as an afterthought, added a spell for privacy too. "There." She tugged at Harry's shirt, pulling it up and over his head.

Quickly they both finished undressing and stood for a moment, staring at each other. Hermione had quite nice breasts, Harry thought, larger than Hannah's had been; he had never had a chance to see Cho's. The hair at her groin was darker than that on her head, and curlier.

"You look awfully nice, Hermione,"

Hermione's smile was shy. "Thank you, Harry. So do you." She nodded toward the bed. "It's clean; I helped Mrs. Weasley put fresh sheets on after lunch."

Harry nodded and followed her as she stretched out on the bed.

It felt odd, kissing Hermione and wondering if perhaps she was imagining he was Ron. Not kissing at all would have seemed stranger, though, so Harry ignored the feeling and put his hand on Hermione's breast. The nipple hardened against his palm as he touched her.

"Mm, that's nice, Harry." She mimicked him, her fingers slipping on his sweaty skin so that she pinched him. "I'm sorry, did that hurt?" she asked worriedly.

"No, I like it," said Harry.

She gave him a speculative glance. "Just how much experience do you have, Harry? Be honest."

"I've done some fooling around," he understated the truth somewhat. "But I've never seen a girl's bits properly, or had sex that involved penetration. You'll be the first."

"You'll be my first too. For that. Viktor and I kissed, and actually went a bit further, but I wasn't ready for more, not then." Her face was pink. "You can look up close at me if I can look up close at you?"

"That seems fair."

Hermione rolled onto her back, pulling a pillow behind her shoulders, and spread her legs. Harry stroked her thigh a moment before easing her lips apart for a full view. She was pink and wet, her clit nestled at the top of her folds, half-hidden under its hood. When Harry touched it lightly, Hermione jumped a little, saying, "Careful. If your fingers are dry like that, it almost hurts to be touched there."

"Well, then." Harry dipped his finger into her entrance, where moisture was welling up. He stroked her again, lightly. "Is that better?"

She nodded. "You can touch around it too. That feels just as good, really."

He did so, fascinated at the way that her opening gaped and closed again, seeming as if it were inviting him in. "Your turn," he said regretfully after a few minutes.

Harry lay back now to let Hermione explore him. She felt over his bollocks, and seemed especially intrigued by his foreskin, sliding it along his straining shaft.

"If you keep that up, I'm going to come too soon," Harry had to warn her after she had stroked him for a bit.

"Of course, I'm sorry." Hermione bit her lip. "Since you're on your back anyway, shall I be on top? I read in a magazine once that many women find that the most pleasurable position."

"Whatever you want."

Hermione swung herself over to kneel above him. Grasping his prick, she guided it to her notch. Moist warmth enveloped the head of Harry's cock and he groaned, hips bucking involuntarily as he strained for more. "Just a minute, Harry." Hermione's face was sweaty and her teeth were clamped onto her lip. "If we do this slowly, I don't think it will hurt."

Harry gritted his teeth and tried to think of other things to distract himself as inch by inch Hermione took more of his cock into herself. At last she was fully settled. She leaned forward and began to rock, still slowly, but Harry felt her moving around him, the walls of her passage caressing him on all sides. Her breasts swayed and he reached up to feel them.

"Hermione," he said hoarsely. "God, Hermione…."

She blew away a lock of hair that was trying to cling to her sweaty face and smiled at him in triumph. "It's better than I thought it might be. You feel good in there." She kept moving.

"Gonna come soon," Harry panted. He had barely said it when he did. "Bugger, I'm sorry, you weren't ready, were you?"

Still straddling him, Hermione shrugged. "Lots of women don't come during sex, apparently. It's okay. Watch." She touched herself, more firmly than Harry would have dared, but then she knew exactly how it felt. Quite soon her head tipped back, her mouth falling open as she moaned. Harry felt her clenching in spasms around him and made a mental note that that was what it felt like from the inside when a girl came.

Hermione sighed and snuggled up to him. "That was nice. Thank you, Harry; this was a good idea. We could even practice again sometime if you wanted."

Harry stroked her back, his hand curving around her bum. "I'd like that. Friends, though, right? Not boyfriend-girlfriend?"

She giggled against his chest. "I think we both know that that's not what either of us wants, to go out together. So yes, friends who sleep together sometimes is fine."

Being able to have sex with Hermione occasionally helped Harry a lot after they were back at Hogwarts. Umbridge was making their lives miserable, Harry's in particular, and sex helped to relieve his tension. He made some tentative moves toward possibly getting together with Cho again as well, but emotionally it was just too complicated; she was brooding over Cedric still and felt guilty about what she and Harry had done the previous spring. So Harry gave up on that and instead considered other possibilities.

Although he was reluctant to create the DA, it did provide him a chance to find another partner, namely, Anthony Goldstein. In the Muggle world, they might not have had much in common, but at Hogwarts Muggle differences didn't matter.

One day during a DA meeting, when everyone was practicing disarming spells, Harry moved around the room, correcting when needed and making murmurs of encouragement. Anthony was doing reasonably well against Parvati Patil, but Harry stepped close behind him anyway and put his hand over Anthony's, demonstrating the correct wand movements. He let his fingers brush over Anthony's wrist as he let go.

"Do you want to stay a little while at the end of tonight's meeting and practice with me?" asked Harry very quietly against the back of Anthony's neck.

Anthony turned his head. "Yes."

Harry thought about what to do for the rest of the practice. At the end, he waited until everyone but Anthony had gone.

"Come on." Harry led Anthony out of the room.

"What? I thought we were going to…"

Harry raised his hand to stop him. "Just wait a minute." He walked briskly up and down the corridor, thinking, "I need a room for Anthony and me, that no one else can get into," until the Room of Requirement appeared again. "There we go."

Instead of the practice room they were used to seeing for the DA, it was now a bedroom, done up in reds and bronzes with black-painted furniture. A giant bed took up much of the space.

"Fantastic," said Anthony approvingly. "I hadn't thought it could do this."

Harry shrugged and went in, Anthony close behind him. Pushing the door closed with his toe, he put his arms around Anthony's shoulders, having to look up since Anthony was a couple of inches taller than he was. "You do want this, don't you? I mean, don't feel pressured just because I'm running the DA or anything."

Hermione had drilled it into him always to ask, even if he thought he was sure of the other person's answer.

"Oh yeah." Anthony tilted his head and kissed Harry. His lips were warm and soft, but his kisses were almost ruthless. Harry was gasping by the time they paused, and he couldn't even remember how they had gotten onto the bed.

They fumbled at each other's robes, practically tearing them off, before resuming with a flurry of kisses and tangled limbs. Anthony's cock pressed hard into Harry's hip, and Anthony's hands stroked Harry.

"Can you do the lubricating spell?"

"We don't need it," said Harry. "The Room left a bottle of lube on the table by the bed."

Anthony craned his neck to look. "So it did." He reached a long arm to grab it and handed it to Harry. "Put some on me."

"Are you sure?"

Anthony laughed. "Well, yeah. I've fancied you for ages; you think I'm going to pass up a chance to have you fuck me?"

Harry swallowed, and told the truth. "I've never fucked another boy before, Anthony."

Anthony blinked. "You haven't?"

"No. I've done other stuff with boys, and I've had sex with a girl, but not in the arse."

"I don't care. It's not exactly all that different, except that you should make sure to use plenty of lube," said Anthony. "Unless you don't want to?"

"Oh, I want to," said Harry hastily, and squirted some of the slick gel onto his fingers. "Just tell me if I need to do anything different."

Anthony rolled to his side, facing away from Harry, and pulled up his top knee so that Harry could just see the pucker of his arsehole. Harry touched it, smearing on the lube.

"Be sure to get some inside," Anthony told him. "Start with just one finger, and work up to maybe three; that ought to stretch me out enough."

"Like this?" asked Harry, circling his finger against the tight ring of muscle. Anthony grunted.

"Yeah, that's good. Fuck. Maybe a little more lube?""

Harry squeezed on another dollop. "Better?"

"Perfect."

Harry began pushing his finger deeper, exploring. When he had thrust in all the way to his last knuckle a few times, he added his middle finger as well. With his other hand he stroked his own cock a few times to coat it with some of the lube. The third finger was a little harder to get in, but soon Anthony relaxed against him.

"Now, Harry," Anthony said. "Come on, fuck me, I'm ready."

Harry slid his fingers out and wriggled that so that his prick pressed between Anthony's arsecheeks. It took him a couple of tries to position himself properly, but at last he had the head of his prick centered against Anthony's loosened pucker, and was able to press steadily into him.

Anthony's arsehole was tighter than Hermione's cunt, and less slick even with the lube. Harry groaned, sure that he wasn't going to last very long with such delicious friction.

"A little to the left," muttered Anthony, and as Harry complied, "Ah fuck, there, brilliant."

Harry couldn't do anything more than hold on to Anthony's hips now as he rocked faster and faster against the other boy, groaning, bucking into that glorious tight heat until he was overtaken by the explosion of his orgasm. When his breath had slowed enough to speak, he said, "Do you want to do it to me?"

Pulling away from Harry with a slight wince, Anthony said, "I guess I wasn't quite as ready as I thought. Um. Are you sure? Have you done it before, been on bottom I mean?"

"No, but that doesn't matter. I want you to; if you want to that is."

"If you're sure, then yes, I'd like that very much," said Anthony. "Pass me the lube, and turn over. Actually, why don't you get on your hands and knees; I like to see what I'm doing."

Harry felt his face grow warm at the idea of Anthony looking at him there so closely, although why that was more embarrassing than having Anthony's cock inside him he couldn't have said. Anthony's hands were on him, spreading him open, and Harry gasped at the first cool touch of lube. Anthony's finger inside him felt good, though, one spot in particular making Harry moan.

"I thought so," Anthony murmured, stroking that spot inside Harry a bit more. "I'm putting in a second finger now."

Two fingers were even better than one had been, but when Anthony slipped in a third, Harry whimpered. It felt too full, as if he needed to shit, and he tensed against the intrusion.

"Sh," Anthony soothed him, stroking Harry's back and hip. "Relax. If you can relax it will be fine."

He held his hand still until Harry had taken a few deep breaths and consciously tried to let his arsehole muscles go limp.

"All right? I'm going to move again, slowly." Anthony suited his actions to his words, and this time Harry was able to accept the sensation, even find pleasure in it.

"Do you think you're ready?" asked Anthony after a bit.

Harry wasn't sure that he was, quite, but Anthony had been waiting a long time, so he said, "I guess so. Go ahead."

Peculiarly, when Anthony's fingers were gone, Harry thought he could still feel them. The sensation was erased a moment later, however, when Anthony's cock slid into him.

"Oh god, Harry, so fucking good," Anthony moaned, his fingers digging into Harry's hips. He began to thrust, quickly picking up speed. "Oh fuck, oh fuck…"

Harry gripped the sheets. It was a little uncomfortable, although on most of his thrusts Anthony was sliding over that sweet spot. He could tell already that his arse was going to be sore afterward, but it was worth it.

Anthony's moans had risen to a near-shriek. Suddenly he shouted and collapsed over Harry, quivering.

"Sorry," he said against Harry's back, "I've always been really loud like that. Silencio was one of the first charms I made sure to learn."

Harry laughed, thinking of the sounds he'd heard from his own dorm mates until they had all mastered the silencing charm. "No worries."

"Let me just make sure you're not bleeding at all," said Anthony, sitting up. "Sometimes that can happen even if you're careful, and I was too excited to be very careful, I'm afraid."

Harry rolled over to his stomach again.

"You're fine," Anthony announced after checking.

"I should check you, too," said Harry, but Anthony was all right as well.

"One thing, though," said Harry as they were both dressing again. "If you're interested, I'd like to do this again sometime, but we'll need to be discreet; I don't want anyone else in the DA thinking that I'm showing favoritism toward you, you know?"

Anthony nodded. "That makes sense. Whatever you think is good, just let me know."

Harry grinned at him. "I'll be sure to."

Between them Hermione and Anthony kept Harry's spare moments busy for the rest of his fifth year at Hogwarts. By summer, however, he had recalled that he had intended to have sex with a couple of Slytherins too. He'd now tried a boy and a girl from each of the other Houses.

It might be better, he decided, if he let the Slytherins think that they were the ones taking advantage of him, rather than the other way around. They would be jubilant at having either tricked or pressured Harry into doing something they didn't think he wanted, whereas Harry would actually be getting exactly he was after.

The Slytherin boy to start with was unquestionably Draco Malfoy. Everyone knew they hated each other. As long as Harry was careful not to make it so easy that Draco became suspicious, he was sure Draco would be willing to take sexual advantage of Harry if he had the opportunity.

He strongly suspected that Draco was, if not actually marked with the Dark Mark, working for the Death Eaters in some capacity, although he had no idea what that might be. His suspicions were strong enough to justify following Draco around as much as possible. He let Ron and Hermione in on that much; those two were on better terms again now, to the extent that Hermione and Harry decided to stop having sex. Hermione said that she knew as much as she felt she needed to by then anyhow. What Harry didn't tell them was that if Draco figured out that Harry was spying, and confronted him, Harry wouldn't mind if he could manage to get Draco into bed as a result.

One evening Harry watched Draco covertly while they were both in the library studying at different tables. When Draco got up to leave before the other Slytherins he was working with had finished, Harry muttered an excuse to Ron, whom he trusted would take Harry's books back to their room if he didn't return, and followed Draco.

He guessed Draco might be heading for the Room of Requirement, since Draco had disappeared in that vicinity several times before, but he was wrong. Draco trotted down the stairs to the Slytherin quarters, with Harry as close behind as he dared, wishing that he had had the foresight to bring his invisibility cloak with him.

Draco stopped in front of the door to Slytherin, and Harry stopped too, lest Draco hear his footsteps. He expected Draco to say the password for entrance, but he was surprised again. Draco whirled around, wand at the ready, and snarled, "Immobilus!"

Harry was frozen. He could only stare helplessly as Draco came toward him.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the boy wonder, sneaking around where he's not welcome." Draco's smile was unpleasant, and Harry reminded himself that this was according to plan, more or less. "Trying to sneak into Slytherin, were you?"

Harry wouldn't have replied even if he had been able to speak. Draco came closer. "Incarcerous."

Once Harry's wrists and ankles were bound, Draco removed the immobility spell. "Now, what would a Gryffindor do to a Slytherin in these circumstances?" he mused aloud, prodding Harry in the chest with his wand. "Doubtless go tattling to Dumbledore. I don't think I'll be doing that; you're too much his pet, and he'd find a way to let you off. No, I think that Slytherins should deal with this ourselves." He used his wand to levitate Harry's bound body, floating Harry behind him as he entered the Slytherin Common Room.

"Look what I found trying to sneak in here," Draco told the other Slytherins present, half a dozen or so. Harry knew Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass from having had classes together, but the other two boys and girl he only recognized as seventh-years; he didn't know any of their names.

"What do you think we should do with him?" Draco continued. "I had in mind stripping him naked and taking his wand for the night, so he'd have to go back to the other Gryffindors in shame."

"Not good enough," said one of the seventh-year boys in a gravelly voice.

"I think we should have him do something humiliating here first, so that we can all enjoy it," said Pansy.

"Do you have any of that truth serum left, Blaise?" asked the seventh-year girl.

Blaise shook his head. "Used it all in last Saturday's game."

Daphne's eyes had fixed on Harry almost hungrily. She stepped forward and, glancing at Draco, ran her hands along Harry's torso. "Remember the last forfeit of Saturday's game? I think we should make Potter pay that."

Smiles spread across each Slytherin's face.

"Wh-what's the forfeit?" asked Harry, deliberately making his voice shake. It didn't take much effort; the forfeit could be almost anything.

"You have to eat a mouthful of doxy droppings," said Pansy with glee.

Harry managed a laugh. "Is that all? I can think of plenty of things more revolting than that."

"Like what?" asked the gravelly-voiced boy.

"Like, for example, sucking you off," Harry shot back. That ought to get them thinking more along the lines he wanted, he hoped.

It did. They argued over it for a bit, but decided that they would give Harry a choice: service each of the seven of them however they wanted, or eat a mouthful of doxy droppings for each one he refused. Quite plainly they expected him to find it a difficult choice, but it was exactly what Harry wanted.

He made one stipulation: each of the Slytherins had to write down his or her request in advance, so that none of them could change their minds halfway through and switch to something more disgusting. Draco's eyes glittered at that condition, but he agreed, and as he had been Harry's captor the rest went along with it.

In return, Harry agreed to strip naked, and to do whatever it was right there in the Slytherin Common Room where any other Slytherins who happened by could watch if they chose, unless the person making the request preferred privacy.

Pansy went first, and she didn't want to go elsewhere. Her request was for Harry to eat her out, keeping his hands behind his back so that he could only use his lips and tongue. Harry immediately accepted. He had hadexperience of that with both Cho and Hermione, after all, so he wasn't worried. He suggested that Pansy sit on a sofa and he would kneel before her. She agreed, taking her robes up and slipping her knickers off to show a bush of thick dark hair. Harry put his face between her thighs.

Pansy's clit was large, swelling outside her lips. He dragged the flat of his tongue over it and Pansy moaned, her thighs spreading wider and wider as her hips tilted up. Harry licked her clit a few more times before curling his tongue and using it like a miniature cock to tongue-fuck her. That was more tiring, though, and Harry didn't know yet what the other six Slytherins had requested, so he switched back to sucking and licking her clit. The stiff fleshy nub quivered and Pansy's legs tightened around his head. Harry nipped – carefully – at her cunt lips, glued his mouth over her clit, and sucked hard, flicking his tongue. Pansy groaned and grabbed his hair, mashing his face against her as she came.

Harry came up with a wet face, taking great gulps of air, but with a definite feeling of triumph at having gotten Pansy off so quickly.

"Pansy, you little slut," said Blaise, but his tone was approving, not censorious.

"That's what I want, too," said Daphne, pushing forward, "but I bet he can't get me off that fast."

Harry read her slip of parchment. Daphne had not included the requirement that he not use hands. He nodded. "I'll do you next." Daphne settled on the sofa next to Pansy, who was still limp. Harry scooted over.

If Pansy's clit had been the largest Harry had yet encountered, Daphne's was on the small side, nearly hidden under its hood. Harry stroked her sparse light brown hair and slipped a finger inside her. Daphne was already wet. Harry thought for a second, plunged his smallest finger in to moisten it as well, then used that finger to titillate Daphne's arsehole while he finger-fucked her cunt with his first two fingers. He teased her clit with the tip of his tongue, encouraging it to swell. Dimly he was aware that the Common Room door had opened and his audience had increased, but he focused on Daphne, using every technique he had learned with Hermione to bring her to orgasm.

Despite her boast, Daphne came even faster than Pansy had, perhaps because Harry was able to use his hands for extra stimulation. Her arsehole clamped around the tip of his little finger, and her juices practically gushed over the rest of his hand when she cried out and came under his rapidly circling tongue.

"Next?" said Harry, sitting back on his heels and wiping his mouth.

"I'm next," said Blaise, handing Harry his request. It was quite an easy one, although humiliating. Blaise wanted Harry to jerk him off until he came all over Harry's face. Harry remained on his knees, therefore, undoing Blaise's robes to free his cock. Blaise evidently adhered to old-fashioned Wizarding dress standards, since he wore nothing underneath. His cock was already hard, not especially long but quite thick, with a pronounced bend to the left. Harry cupped his hands around it, stroking gently, feeling the heat and pulse of Blaise's blood beneath the skin.

Blaise, too, was relatively easy to get off. The angle was slightly awkward; Harry was most used to wanking himself, and when he'd done it to Anthony it had been only briefly, or from behind at a familiar angle, or both. He tried using his mouth, suckling the head of Blaise's prick, but Blaise cuffed him away and told him sharply to use only his hands. That slowed things a bit, but was otherwise fine since Harry's jaw was a little tired from eating out the two girls. He used one hand to fondle Blaise's bollocks and the base of his cock, the other to stroke the shaft and head. Harry toyed some with Blaise's foreskin, but mostly he just pumped Blaise's cock, trying to find a speed and firmness that suited the other boy.

Blaise straddled his legs a little wider for balance, resting his hands on Harry's head. "Remember, on your face," he reminded Harry, who nodded and stroked faster.

Not knowing Blaise's habits, the moment of orgasm took Harry by surprise, and he barely lowered his eyelids in time to avoid getting Blaise's spunk right in his eye. Blaise was almost silent as he came, but a round of applause followed it; Harry wasn't sure if it was for his ability at giving a hand job, or at the prodigiousness of Blaise's ejaculation. He suspected the latter, but shoved the humiliation of the scene to the back of his mind as he wiped off his face. He glanced at the remaining four Slytherins to see who was next. Draco shook his head. One of the seventh-year boys handed Harry a slip of parchment.

Harry read it, and swallowed hard, almost tempted to decline and suffer the alternative. The three seventh-years wanted him to satisfy them all at once. Adrian Pucey, the gravelly-voiced boy, would fuck his arse while Harry fucked Hypatia Montague and sucked Simon Capper off at the same time. If he said no, though, he would have to eat three mouthfuls of doxy droppings, and that would be worse.

He'd wanted to see what the Slytherins were like, and he was getting what he wanted, no question.

"Right here?" Harry asked, hoping that one of them might prefer privacy.

"Yes," said Hypatia, and the two boys nodded agreement. She told Pansy and Daphne to get off the sofa, and arranged herself with her robes pulled well up. Harry quickly muttered the lubrication charm – he didn't trust Adrian not to fuck him dry – and positioned himself between Hypatia's legs, guiding his cock into her damp well. He grunted as Adrian spread his arsecheeks and probed his hole. Simon sat on the arm of the sofa above Hypatia's head to begin with, but it soon became apparent that Harry could not fuck Hypatia and reach Simon's cock from there, so Simon knelt over Hypatia's face instead, which was close enough for Harry to reach him.

The final part of their mutual request was the most difficult. During all of this Harry was not supposed to come. That was probably just as well, given that he would still have to do whatever Draco wanted, but it wouldn't be easy to hold back with all this stimulation. Harry licked his lips and opened his mouth, letting Simon's prick in. He couldn't do much else; behind him Adrian was setting a rhythm of thrusts and Harry could only accept and transmit the same rhythm to Hypatia, until and unless Adrian came first. It was difficult to do anything other than use the same rhythm for the sucking and licking he gave to Simon's cock, too, but it seemed to suit Simon well enough, for he grunted and thrust deeper into Harry's throat. Harry balanced himself with some effort on one hand and used the other to finger Hypatia's clit. He had found that to work well with Hermione, who rarely came from intercourse alone.

Harry was so focused on trying to bring each of the three to orgasm before coming himself from sheer overload that he nearly collapsed when he succeeded. Simon came first, filling Harry's throat with his thick bitter cream before unceremoniously pulling out. That made it easier for Harry to pay attention to the caresses he was giving Hypatia, rubbing her mound and using her own juices as lubricant when he toyed with her clit. Her cunt contracted around his cock, and he had to concentrate hard not to let that bring him to climax. To hold back he clenched his muscles, including his arse muscles, and that pressure set Adrian off as well, his fingernails scraping Harry's back as he pumped his load into Harry's arse.

"Oh, well done, Potter," murmured Draco, as Harry wearily disentangled himself.

There were at least two dozen other Slytherins watching now, and Harry flushed crimson at the realization.

"And what do you want, Malfoy?" he asked, straightening up.

Wordlessly Draco handed Harry the final parchment slip. Harry read it to himself.

In private, not here. Make love to me as if you loved me.

Harry's head jerked up and he stared at Draco, who nodded.

Oh, but that was unfair. Harry cleared his throat.

"Draco's request calls for privacy," he said.

The six Slytherins he had just serviced scowled, and there were a few jeers and catcalls from the rest of the crowd, but Draco stared them all down.

"Rest assured that I won't let Potter off easily," he said in haughty tones. "I simply choose not to have an audience."

Draco led Harry down the corridor and flung open the door. "Crabbe, Goyle, Nott – all of you, out."

Theodore Nott saw Harry and raised his eyebrows, but Vincent and Gregory slouched out of the room without a word.

"An hour, no more," Draco told Theodore, who scowled, but finally left. When the door had closed behind him, Draco locked it and added a silencing charm.

Harry wasn't sure what Draco expected of him, not from the description "as if you loved me." He wasn't sure that he'd ever had sex with someone he loved… well, he did love Hermione, but as a friend, not a girlfriend. Everyone else he'd been with before tonight he had liked, perhaps even had a crush on, but that wasn't the same as loving them.

Draco's loud sigh snapped his attention back to the present moment. "Come here, Potter. Surely you can't be nervous after that performance you just put on, not on top of all of your other escapades."

"Other escapades?"

Draco sighed again. "You can't possibly be so dim as not to realize that people talk, can you? Never mind, apparently you can." Draco was unbuttoning his robes and toeing off his shoes as he spoke. "You're already naked, so come over here."

Harry dropped his clothes – he had grabbed them when Draco pulled him out of the Common Room, worried that if he didn't he might not see them again – and crossed to Draco's bed, an enormous four-poster like his own.

"Kiss me," said Draco. His gray eyes were enormous; Harry realized that was because Draco was coming closer. Harry put up his hands, but what started as a defensive gesture turned into an embrace as Draco's lips met his and Draco's tongue slid into his mouth.

He hadn't kissed any of the other Slytherins, he remembered. Not on the mouth. Licking cunt and sucking cock weren't proper kisses, to his mind. Draco's hands slid down Harry's body.

"That won't do," Draco muttered against his mouth. He Summoned his wand and cast a cleaning charm on Harry. "No one else's mess, thanks."

He returned to kissing Harry, who tried to give as good as he got. He nipped at Draco's lips and tongue, eliciting a pleased-sounding growl. Draco pushed him back against the pillows and pounced, attacking his mouth with even fiercer hunger. Harry stroked Draco's back and bum and pulled him closer.

"How do you want this?" he murmured, breathing into Draco's ear and licking along its rim.

Draco shivered. "How dirty is your imagination, Potter? If someone you loved asked you to do something absolutely filthy, would you say yes?"

"I don't know." Harry took Draco by the shoulders and pushed him away just far enough to look in his eyes. "What did you have in mind?"

"Have you ever had your tongue in someone's arse?" asked Draco.

Harry shook his head. That was something he and Anthony had never done, although he remembered fondly George Weasley doing it to him, and had even gone so far as to find a good sanitizing spell in case Anthony had ever wanted to try it.

"Uh-huh." Draco leaned even closer and whispered into Harry's ear. "And I bet you've never had anyone piss on you, either."

"No!" Harry tried to recoil, but Draco held him down with surprising wiry strength.

"You don't know what you're missing, Potter." His voice was dreamy. "The physical sensation, but also the trust it requires."

Harry held very still. What Draco was saying made sense, in a warped sort of a way.

"So, would you, if you loved someone, do those things?"

"I guess I might." Harry swallowed, imagining the taste of doxy dung, his alternative. "I guess I would."

Draco's smile was pleased, and less triumphant than Harry would have thought. "Then what I want is for you to lick my arse before I fuck you, and afterward jerk yourself off as I piss on your cock."

"I'll need my wand for the cleaning and lubrication charms," said Harry.

Draco shook his head. "I'll cast them. You can have your wand back when we're all finished."

That was only to be expected. Harry waited while Draco cast the cleaning charm. Then he said, "Lie on your stomach and spread your legs."

Draco did, reaching underneath himself to adjust the position of his prick against his stomach. "All yours, Potter."

Harry knelt between Draco's legs, took a deep breath, and drew his tongue from the top of the crease between Draco's buttocks down, down into the crack, until he felt the texture of the skin change, the wrinkles of the pucker guiding him to its center. The cleaning charm had done its work and he couldn't really taste or smell anything offensive. He thought about how he had tongue-fucked Pansy, about how George had done it to him, and did his best to apply those techniques to Draco.

He circled the ring of muscle with the tip of his tongue, coaxing it to relax and sinking gradually deeper. Draco made a small noise and shifted position, drawing his knees up to pull his thighs further apart. Harry brushed his knuckles over Draco's perineum and stroked the backs of his bollocks as his tongue speared into Draco's hole.

His previous efforts with Pansy and Daphne and Simon had tired his jaw. Harry was almost at the point where he would have had to plead with Draco to let him stop when Draco said in a shaky voice, "Enough. On your knees."

Harry lifted his face and turned around, rising to his hands and knees to present his arse to Draco. The familiar tingle of the lubrication spell touched him. He was still somewhat stretched from Adrian, and it didn't surprise him that Draco didn't bother with any additional preparation, instead pushing his prick deep into Harry's arse in a single thrust.

Harry was a little sore from his earlier activities, but he did his best to respond to Draco, who seemed to be making an effort to be gentle, almost as if he were following his own stricture to Harry and having sex with someone he loved, not just getting off using an enemy's body.

"Is this all right, Harry?" Draco murmured. "Tell me."

"It feels good," Harry said, and decided to throw himself into the game. "I love the way you touch me, your thick cock inside me, claiming me, yeah. Those others? They didn't mean anything; it was all about you, all the time. You're the one I wanted to be doing this to me."

Draco whimpered, his thrusts speeding up, but still gentle. "Do you mean that?"

"Of course." And at that moment, anyway, Harry did mean it.

"Oh…" Draco's fingernails dug into Harry's skin, and he stilled, evidently having come, although Harry hadn't expected it so soon. He pulled out of Harry's arse. "Turn over."

Awkwardly Harry did. His erection had flagged while Draco fucked him.

Draco's eyes glittered. "Touch yourself." He took his own prick in hand and aimed it at Harry's.

Harry squirmed, dreading what was about to happen – whatever Draco had said, he didn't think he could find this arousing – but began stroking himself. He had been to the edge of orgasm and back several times already that evening, so it didn't take long to reach that point once again. Still Draco had done nothing. Harry worried that if he came too soon, he would have to go through this all over again to fulfill Draco's requirements.

"Please, Draco." He bit his lip, hating to have to ask. "Please, do what you said."

"What?" The word fell into the air between them.

"Please." Harry swallowed hard. "Please piss on me."

His swollen prick throbbed in his hands as he grasped the base, holding himself back. The first hot drops struck him, and Harry let his eyes fall shut.

"Watch it," demanded Draco.

Reluctantly Harry opened his eyes again and looked down at the golden stream splashing onto his cock and hand as he stroked and pumped frantically. Maybe Draco was right after all; the hot liquid felt surprisingly good drenching his cock and bollocks. Harry moaned.

"That's right, Harry, come on," Draco urged him, and Harry moaned again, his prick convulsing, pumping out his spunk in milky gouts onto his stomach.

The flow of Draco's piss slowed to a trickle, a few last drops, and stopped. Draco looked inordinately satisfied. Picking up his wand, he cast a cleaning charm. Instantly the bed under Harry was dry, and all traces of lube and piss and come were gone from his body.

He wasn't sure what to think. He had sampled the wares of all the Hogwarts Houses, and discovered there was less difference between them than he had thought there might be. He had also found that plans didn't always turn out as expected, and that he could find pleasure in surprising places.

"Now, Potter," said Draco softly. Harry started at the sound of his surname again, after Draco had been calling him Harry. "Get those robes back on, and put a sullen look on your face. If you want to do this again, you realize that no one else can know."

"I know," Harry agreed. He pulled on his robe and cocked his head at Draco. "How about a signal? In the library, stop at my table and insult me. Fifteen minutes later I'll meet you on the third floor, by the Room of Requirement. I'll do the same to signal you. No more than a couple of times a week, though, or people will get suspicious."

Draco nodded. "I'll take you out of here now."

It was humiliating to go through the Slytherin Common Room again, hearing the jeers, and especially Draco's sniggering comments that Harry had been a good little bum-fairy and similar insults, but Harry didn't really mind. He was too busy thinking about what he and Draco might do next time.