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Harry walks back from his first detention-on the second day of school. ‘I shall not tell lies’ was such a stupid thing to have him write. He was not telling lies. He was just refusing to allow that... that bitch to lie about everything. Not on top of everything else.
Mid-mental-rant Harry turns a corner and runs straight into a prefect. He stumbles back before straightening quickly, an apology on his lips as he desperately tries to recall if it’s past curfew. The corridor is dark and while he thinks the detention only lasted two hours, the pain in his hand makes it seem much longer.
The light catches a ring on the Prefect’s finger as he lifts his hand and Harry cannot stop the instinctive flinch. But the taller boy merely raises an eyebrow and uses the raised hand to smooth down his robe. “Are you alright, Mr. Potter?”
“Umm...” Harry blinks and straightens up. “Sorry.” Maybe if Slytherin’s did not march around as if the entire world should move out of their way we could have avoided this conversation, Harry thinks.
The young man merely clasps his hands behind his back. “Do you require assistance returning to your common room?”
Harry stared. What was this guy’s plan? Get Harry alone after a detention and what, mock him? Harry rests his eyes on the neatly knotted silver and green tie. Hoping a lack of eye contact would dissuade further conversation “I think I’ll be fine.”
“Nonsense. If nothing else I should do it to ensure you do not manage to catch another detention on the way back.” The older boy raises an eyebrow. “Though I hear you have several lined up already.” Its hard to tell from his tone alone what he’s feeling, and his face gives little away, too new and unstudied to know what its movements might convey.
“Were you waiting for me?” Harry asked, irritated. Why couldn’t people just leave him alone?
The older boy shrugged. “No. I’m doing my rounds. Not every Slytherin is out for your blood, Mr. Potter. I dare say with the exception of Mr. Malfoy, most view you as what you are at present.”
“And what’s that?” Harry snapped, instantly defensive, something about the Slytherin grating against already frayed nerves.
“A teenager and a classmate. Nothing more. It is hardly as if you have endeavored to become more. Though,” The Prefect grew thoughtful, “I suppose your public image may have altered that. Considering what the prophet has been printing and the utter secrecy and lies that surround most of your... end of term extracurriculars.”
Harry felt his temper raising. But before he could yell, the Prefect had spun around and started walking. “This way, Mr. Potter. As quick as you’d like. I have other duties I must see to and if I recall the start of my own fifth year I dare say you should already have homework.”
Harry found himself sulking after the Prefect. It was not as if he had a choice. While Prefects rarely did more than take points, he hardly wanted to get into a fight with someone he only just met. Slytherin or not, it wasn’t as if the young man was doing anything wrong... yet. But Harry was certain that had more to do with time.
He kept a close eye on the Prefect, waiting for some hint of violence or deception. Distracted Harry found himself outside the Fat Lady before he realized it.
“Dame Rose.” The Prefect offered a shallow bow to the portrait.
The Fat Lady giggled and fanned her face. “Well, it has been awhile since I received such polite company.”
Polite, Harry thought, this guy could hardly be considered polite. He was a Slytherin, there was obviously something going on besides good manners. And since when did the Fat Lady go by ‘Dame Rose’?
“I must apologise for my peers then. A woman of your deeds and caliber should hardly be overlooked.” The Prefect nodded at Harry. “However unfortunately I must away far too soon. Duty calls, but I believed this young man needed company back to your safe harbor.”
Suck up, Harry thought snidely watching the Prefect disappear down the hall.
*^**^**^*
Harry walked out of his second detention with his back straight. He was not about to let some pink-clad, kitten fetistist, toad get the best of him. He made it halfway back to the Gryffindor common room before the pain forced his hand to his chest, his back to the wall and a high breath to catch in his throat.
I can’t let them win, Harry thought, forces clenched eyes to open. I don’t care what they do. I’ll still win. I have to. Otherwise why am I still standing?
“Its nearly curfew, Mr. Potter.” A cool voice informed him.
Harry jumped half a foot sideways and had his wand in his hand without even thinking about it.
The tip rested a bare inch away from the Slytherin Prefect’s badge.
The Slytherin raised an eyebrow. “I thought only first years were scared of the dark.”
Harry glared, murderous. “I am not afraid.”
The Slytherin smiled, more an annoyed tightening of his lips than anything with mirth or joy.
“Merely vigilant then? Isn’t that what our last Defense professor preached? Constant vigilance?”
“He wasn’t Alastor Moody.” Harry hissed.
“No. An unfortunate and proven fact. Funny how Dumbledore is incapable of telling the difference between an old friend and a lunatic. But I suppose there isn’t much difference to that man.”
‘You snide tosser’, Harry thought, feeling his anger form into a hard ball in the pit of his stomach.
“Unfortunate is it?”
The Prefect ignored Harry’s question in favor of one of his own. “When are you planning on lowering your wand?”
“Depends... when do you plan to stop being a threat?” Harry snapped back.
The laugh was unexpected. It was not that loud, but it echoed like a whisper from one end of the corridor to the other. The lightness of the sound transforming the young man before Harry. The Slytherin’s blue eyes crinkled at the others and his chin ducked down, sending his brown hair into his eyes, softening his outline. His shoulders relaxed some, though not all, of their rigidity.
“I plan to always be a threat, Mr. Potter.” The Slytherin smiled, genuine mirth hiding in his eyes. “Why would I ever want to be anything else? Do you not seek to be a threat to Voldemort?”
Harry blinked. “You said his name.” He felt his wand lower, the tip drifting down a few inches.
The Slytherin’s hand was on his wrist, his shoulder rolling as he elbowed Harry in the stomach and used the chance to push him into the wall. Their hips were pinned tight together, Harry’s glasses a half-inch from the Prefect’s clavicle. Harry’s wand arm was pinned out to the side and his other hand was trapped behind him against the wall.
Harry, before he even overcame his shock, started struggling hard. But even kneeing the Slytherin was not an option with the way other guy pinning him.
“Knocked it off. Someone’s coming.” The Slytherin hissed. “Abdous.”
The spell settled across them like a chilled blanket. The colors all grew distant and greyed. The torch light seeming to fall everywhere they were not. No warmth, but oddly nothing close to cold.
Listening, Harry heard what the Prefect must have, the steady click of heels. He froze and let out a slow, careful breath. Then forced himself to inhale slowly, it was never a good idea to hold your breath when hiding, as it would only force louder, irregular breaths when they were least helpful.
Uncle Vernon had taught him that at a young age.
Standing there, pressed against the wall and the taller boy’s form, Harry could not help but think he smelt really good. There was coffee and mint, a hint of old books and just a fleeting bit of... something. ‘What was it?’ Harry inhaled a bit deeper, chasing the scent. ‘Is that popcorn? It is. He smells like buttered popcorn.’
The footsteps echoed behind the Prefect and Harry pushed up on his toes in an attempt to see who it was. His gaze managed to connect with Umbridge as she walked down the hall carrying something. The woman never even paused as she moved past them down the hall.
‘What does she have?’ Harry wiggled against the Slytherin as he attempted to get a better view. That is until he felt... something against his hip. ‘Is that...?’ Harry wiggled a bit more deliberately and tilted his head to look up at the Prefect.
Harry could only see the Prefect’s jaw and ears as his chin was tilted up, but that was more than enough to confirm Harry’s suspicions. ‘I never thought Slytherin’s blushed for any of the normal reasons.’ Harry thought, an unnamed emotion curling low in his stomach.
The Slytherin swallowed and Harry was filled with the urge to bite at the column of his throat. He squashed it down but couldn’t stop another wiggle of his hips as he slid back down on his heels. The Slytherin’s hips flinched forward before the other boy hurried back.
“Sorry... I... Sorry.” The Prefect would not meet Harry’s eyes. “I would understand if you wish to report me but... but I meant nothing by it.”
Harry thought he might be going mad... well more mad, but he found himself leaning up and grabbing the back of the Slytherin’s head. Their lips met and Harry found himself at a bit of a loss at what to do.
So this was kissing, Harry thought as he kept contact with the other boy’s mouth. I always thought there would be more to it like tongues or...
The Slytherin’s hand came around to rest on the curve of Harry’s back. He gently caress his thumb in circles against Harry’s school robes. The Prefect mouth moved, so their lips were no longer aligned completely.
Harry furrowed his brow as the other boy started moving his lips. Harry mimicked the action and gave a surprised hmmm when it became much more enjoyable.
They broke apart and Harry leaned back against the wall. The Prefect had retreated to the other side of the hall, eyes closed and head tipped back. He really was quite attractive, Harry thought examining him. The Prefect was not a flawless beauty or breath taking. His ears were a bit short; his square jaw looked odd with the roundness of his cheeks; his eyebrows were, Harry guessed you would called them manicured; his nose was long; his top lip was much heavier than his bottom; his sideburns needed a trim; his hair cut was borderline douche, the sides and back buzzed and the top and fringe long; and his entire ensemble hissed careless wealth.
“I don’t even know your name.” Harry blurted out. He must think I’m some sort of sex starved slut, Harry thought mortified.
The Prefect laughed and his eyes fluttered open. He looked at Harry with pale blue eyes. “Alastor Wulfric Redwell. But call me Wulfric, only my father and godfather call me Alastor and only when I’m in trouble.” He offered Harry a wolfish grin. “And you’re Harry.” His voice put an odd emphasis on his name. “Its a pleasure to met the man behind the myth.”
Harry nodded. “So that was... nice.”
Wulfric nodded. “Love to do it again. But unfortunately I need to finish my rounds... are you,” He straightened up. “Are you comfortable seeing me again?”
This is mad, Harry thought, He’s a Slytherin. He could stab me in the back at the least opportunity. “My friends wouldn’t approve.”
Wulfric nodded, eyes dimming. “I understand. There is some... animosity between our houses. My father sent me a letter the first morning after I was sorted. My sister sent me a six page ‘note’ about how awesome some Slytherins are while my eldest brother took me to pick up a second wand. I still don’t fully believe they weren’t a little disappointed.”
“Your family isn’t Slytherin?” Harry asked, shocked.
Wulfric started walking down the hallway and Harry moved beside him. “No. My older siblings were all Ravenclaws, all of them played chaser while they were together in school, winning the cup both years they played. My father was a Gryffindor. Did a year as the DADA teacher and nearly two decades as an auror before grandfather passed and he took over the family holdings. Mother is a Hufflepuff. Grandfather a Gryffindor. Both great-grandparents were Hufflepuffs. And my oldest nephews were just sorted into Hufflepuff.”
“What about your grandmother?” Harry asked, unable to keep the fascination from his voice.
“Muggle actually. Grandfather met her in Germany. Loved her on sight and she stood toe to toe with him on anything she didn’t like. Tells the best stories, too. Her blackberry jam is the greatest thing this side of the channel.” Wulfric was grinning and their was a softness in his gaze. “She’s a truly wonderful person, despite how ornery she can act.”
“It must be nice, having such a big family.” Harry ventured.
“Yeah, it is even when we disagree. Though its a bit weird being closer to age to my nephews than my siblings. I didn’t show up till my parents were almost fifty. My youngest sister is twice my age.”
I wish I had a family, Harry thought. One that was just mine. “I guess I always thought it was pretty rare to get people in the same family sorted into separate Houses.”
“Not really. Not with most families. There are some that are, or are for a few generations like the Malfoys, Weasleys, and Bones families.” Wulfric shrugged. “But they tend to be the exception not the rule. Gryffindor and Slytherin families tend to be the most fanatical about it.”
Wulfric held up a hand when Harry tried to argue. “Please, in forty seconds I will no longer have an excuse not to take points.”
Fucking Snake, Harry mentally seethed as he watched the Slytherin walk away. Good for nothing, slimy, lying, deceiver. If you did not smell so good I’d hex you.
*^**^**^*
Harry walked out of Umbridge’s room and looked around expectantly.
I am not looking for him, he assured himself as he walked down the hall, slowing his pace to peer down hall corridors. I don’t care at all if he shows up.
I’m not disappointed, Harry told himself as he mounted the stairs. I’m not.
He went straight up to his dorm and fell into bed. He was not disappointed.
*^**^**^*
Harry bumped into Ron walking back the next night. Over the red head’s shoulder he saw the brief hint of brown hair before the Slytherin prefect vanished from sight. Harry was half convinced he had imagined him.
*^**^**^*
Harry was almost convinced that Wulfric had been a complete figment of his imagination until Ron mentioned him at dinner that weekend.
“... don’t get me started on that pounce Redwell. You’d think he was Headmaster. What with the way he strolls around condescending everyone he meets.” Ron took on a near falsetto. “Being prefect doesn’t mean you can wander after dark, we have to set an example. Knot your tie. Show the first years around. Do you need help? Have you got a handbook? Stop slouching.”
Hermione cut in. “He’s not the nicest, but he isn’t wrong, Ronald.”
“I’m Hermione and I think a Slytherin is right because he agrees with me.” Ron mocked.
Hermione sucked in a sharp breath.
Here we go, Harry thought. She’s going to yell at him because Ron is an idiot. And then they will proceed not to talk to each other until dinner. Because Ron won’t apologize and Hermione will eventually give in.
“Last time I talked to a woman like that, my own mother slapped me. In public.” The voice that issued behind Harry’s back was cold “I know your father raised you better, Mr. Weasley. Arthur would be seven kinds of pissed to hear you mocking a family friend like that.”
Ron glared daggers at Wulfric who merely gave a shallow nod to Hermione. “We’re both on early shift, so I was hoping you would help me round up the first group of lions and eagles to agree to an... imprudent dare.”
“Tell me its not a duel.” Hermione sighed as she collected her things and stood.
“I would never lie to a lady.” Wulfric’s face was blank but he bounced on his feet a bit as he spoke. “However, I want to say its about confirming the existence of a certain ‘secret’ passageway. And I need you there to be impartial.”
“Your nephews involved?” Harry asked without thinking.
Wulfric’s eyes softened when he looked at Harry. “Probably. Michael, father,” he clarified at Harry’s confused look, “doesn’t help matters. Always encouraging this sort of...”
“Play?” Harry suggested.
Wulfric frowned and huffed. “They’re eleven.”
“And what did you do your first year?” Ron asked, snidely. “Poison people?”
“Nah, I took over relations with the local centaur herd and made a few overtures to the House of Diggory and the House of Flint. The last ended badly, but as I wasn’t the one with the squirrel tail, I still think I succeeded to a higher degree than expected.” Wulfric smirked and offered Hermione his arm. “Ms. Granger.”
“I told you, its Hermione.” Hermione scolded but accepted the proffered arm. “How many times must I tell you.”
“At least once more.” Wulfric winked at Harry.
I’m not jealous, Harry thought watching Hermione and Wulfric leave together. I’m not. I told him my friends would not approve so the fact that he is now flirting with one of them is... it is fine.
“Total pounce.” Ron declared.
“So prefects have a schedule?” Harry asked.
“Yeah, hang on.” Ron rummaged in his bag, “See.”
Harry studied it closely for a moment. “Yep.”
“It has us out at all hours,” Ron groused. “stupid badge.”
*^**^**^*
Harry was not stalking Wulfric. Nope. No sir, cross his heart and hope to die. He was not stalking him. Stalking required movement, and he was just waiting, patiently, for him to walk around the corner and say hello.
“Five points from Slytherin for being out of bed.” A voice echoed down the hall. “You really do not want to test me farther on this, Mr. Higgs.”
There was grumbling and Wulfric sharp reprime. “What was that?”
“I said,” Higgs repeated, over enunciating, “It must be nice to have a license to sneak.”
Harry came around the corner to see the seventh year Slytherin seeker attempting to tower over Wulfric. But Wulfric was having none of it. The Prefect stood with the slightest tilt to his head and his posture carelessly straight, as if he couldn’t give two shits about height but was raised to never slouch.
“I would be careful what you accuse me of, Mr. Higgs. Our Housemaster places traces on badges, he knows if I’m abusing my authority.” Wulfric’s voice went soft, silky. “However I would be extremely interested to know if someone else is stepping out of line. After all, it's your right as a student to contest points and punishments, especially those done by a prefect, with the board of governors.”
Higgs seemed to deflate a little. “I...”
“It’s alright. My door is always open if you need to talk. And the upside of seeing me is people will just assume we’re fucking.” Wulfric’s tone had a teasing lilt to it.
Higgs laughed. “Alright. Better get back to the dorm, huh?”
“That would be wise.” Wulfric nodded.
The Slytherin prefect stood still in the hallway as Higgs trotted off, disappearing down the hall. Finally, when the last hint of footsteps had faded, he turned. Blue eyes searched the hall briefly before a frown marred his features. “I can hear you breath, and you have something crickly in your back pocket. But I must say that is some impressive spell work. Won’t you come out and say hello?”
Harry tugged the invisibility cloak off. “Hello.”
Wulfric shook his head. “No wonder Gryffindor is reported to be so troublesome.”
“We’re aren’t that bad.” Harry protested, folding the cloak up.
“Every house but yours considers it the worse offense possible to be caught sneaking around after dark. Everyone else knows to sleep. Except perhaps Hufflepuff, but when the kitchen is a dozen steps from your common room, a midnight snack seems perfectly reasonable.” Wulfric flicked some non-existent lint off his shoulder.
“What about Higgs?” Harry asked.
“He’s seeing a Ravenclaw. Their parents love the idea but unfortunately, Slytherin House is less understanding. Considering she’s a muggle born, its understandable.” Wulfric shrugged when Harry glowered. “I don’t have to agree. Higgs doesn’t know me well enough that if something comes up that he can come to me. I have approximately a three week period to head off his shithead plans before things turn ugly. No one will touch him if he goes public but if he keeps trying to hid... The Ravenclaw becomes open game.”
“Those fucks.” Harry didn’t realise he spoke aloud until Wulfric snorted.
“Its a real stupid thing to harass a witch. But they don’t tend to realise physical size means little when you can hex a man through a wall.” Wulfric shook his head. “The poor girl also has had to put up with our recent slew of shit Defence teachers. Makes you think Dumbledore doesn’t want them to be competent.”
If this guy says one more thing about Dumbledore, Harry thought, I will yell at him. He’s a Slytherin and he can’t possibly understand everything Dumbledore has done for us and the rest of the wizarding world.
Wulfric sighed. “If you’re breaking curfew you might as well be where I can see you, come along.” he headed off and Harry followed.
He has a really nice set of shoulders, Harry thought as he walked behind the Prefect. Not a bad neck either, though I wish his shirt collar was not so high. Honestly, how is anyone suppose to sink their teeth into him if he’s always so covered up.
“Something the matter, Mr. Potter?” Wulfric asked, clearly amused.
Harry blushed and looked away.
“Lycus Pictus.” Wulfric mummered and a door clicked open.
Harry was asshamed to admit that he had not realized it was the prefect’s bathroom until he stepped inside. “What if someone comes in here?”
“They won’t. No one else is on patrol till the midnight overlap and if someone else does open the door, it just takes them to one of the other bathrooms. There is upwards of three, we haven’t actually found the cap.” Wulfric shrugs and lazily draws his wand and a few wooden disks. He tosses them at the wall and flicks his wand with a subvocal murmer. The disks transfigured themselves into a group of pillows.
Show off, Harry thinks, Cool, but still such a show off.
“So,” Wulfric hummed low in his throat. “You wanted to chat?”
Harry sits on one of the pillows as Wulfric losens his tie and joins him.
“Who said that?” Harry asked, unable to take his eyes off the rubber peeling off his shoes.
“The person willing to let a prefect know they have an invisibility cloak instead of just running.” Wulfric smirked. “What’s up?”
“Why are you a Slytherin?” Harry blurted out.
Wulfric’s eyes paled to a startling shade of ice blue before thawing back to their more usual color. “That’s a rather personal question. But the short answer is... I like power.”
Of course, Harry thought. Couldn’t be anything interesting, or nice. Nope, just another power hungry asshole with no morals or- “So you want to be better than everyone.”
Wulfric’s face twisted as if he desperately wanted to sneeze. “That’s a rather limited view. But then again, you are a Gryffindor associating with less than... subtle minds.”
“Hermione!”
“Is not the one I was refering too. Though she gets by more on sheer ruthless devotion than subtlty.” Wulfric eyed Harry. “Ronald and I used to play chess as children. Last year while you two were on the out he came by the Chess club. His stradegy has... if anything he seems to be more immature and rash. He also got himself banned by Flitwick for his... inability to control his tongue.
“But that is not the point I wanted to make. You are looking at this from a single angle. Looking at this from a broader standpoint. What makes a person powerful? Name at least three things, if you can.” Wulfric smiled.
He’s taunting me, Harry thought in amazement. He knows I won’t back down and so he’s just egging me on. Why? Is he hoping that I’ll give him an excuse to leave? Or maybe he wants blackmail?
“Magical Strength.” Harry began.
“Obvious.” Wulfric drawled.
“Physical speed and ability.”
“Like brawling? Really?”
Harry glared.
Wulfric smirked. “One more.”
Harry had the words on the tip of his tongue when they died. That would be silly. A Slytherin would never-
“Yes?” There was something odd in Wulfric’s eyes again.
“Love.” Harry blurted.
“Better.” Wulfric leaved back and it was only then that Harry realised how close he had been.
“But let me give you a few more. There is loyalty and family. Blood, magic and oaths. And no, I don’t mean magic in the sense you do doubt did. There is also knowledge, of politics, of people, of loyalties, of secrets, and of course, of yourself.” Wulfric looked at Harry. “But Power for Powers own sake is stupid and gluttouness. I plan to use my power. To use it to get more and protect what I already posses. What do you think is my most precious possession?”
“Why would I know?” Harry scathed.
Wulfric laughed, low and vicious sounding. “Oh, Harry. I think you should figure it out. Maybe it will point you to where you need to go. Now get back to your dorm before we both do something the other regrets.”
Harry glared but found himself leaving. Stupid Slytherin.
*^**^**^*
Two weeks later found Harry, carefully muffled, treading behind Wulfric as the Slytherin patrolled. It had become a habit. He would slip on his invisibility cloak and seek out Wulfric. Usually the Prefect was partnered with someone, a surprising amount of the time with Hermione who seemed to enjoy the older students dry wit and serious discussions during their laps through the school. Sometimes it was another Slytherin, all of whom, especially Draco, would speak softly to him.
No one, not even a lost and frightened Ravenclaw second year, seemed scared of him for more than a minute after meeting him. But no one challenged him either. Harry doubted anyone even thought too.
After all, he never questioned anyone else. Merely watched them with a sort of detached amusement. Like most people watch someone else’s baby. Sure, infants were cute, but with no link or prior attachment, it was hard to get invested in their mindless cooing.
It made Harry wondered why Wulfric had spent so much time with him.
“Lycus Pictus.” Wulfric breathed and walked into the Prefect’s bathroom.
This was also usual. Wulfric ended his by entering the bathroom, staying around forty minutes while Harry dosed outside, and then walked back to his common room. Tonight, Harry, acting on rash, stupid impulse followed.
The Prefect made no sign he noticed Harry enter behind him and locked the door with a careless gesture behind him. He moved around the tub and started turning on facets. As the giant bath began to fill, Wulfric lay down on the floor, breath evening out as he rested there on his stomach.
Even unmoving, there was a tautness to the Slytherin’s body, an unexpected tightness that made Harry half certain he was about to be discovered. But no, instead, after several tense moments, Wulfric skin rippled.
Harry stared. He kept staring as slowly, alarmingly, Wulfric entire form including clothing shifted to blue. Before Harry was quite certain of what he was seeing, and so fully panic about it, Wulfric finished his transformation.
Wulfric was an animagus.
Harry detailed the fact the he was blue, serpent, and big, before he slithered into the steaming water. The water churned and frothed for several moments before stilling, none of the reptile visible.
For several moments that may have been hours for all Harry was frozen in shock, the water was still. Then, with little warning between one moment and the next, Wulfric lifted his head. His jaws were at least eighteen inches across and rather short, giving him a snouted appearance. He had a bright red pair of horns lifting away from above his eyes, which were pale nearly white, blue slits.
He’s a dragon, Harry thought, idly realizing his heart had stopped and that was rather worrying. A Water Serpent. A giant, ship eating, beast that could easily crush me like a bug. Wonderful.
The dragon yawned, a somewhat surprising lack of fangs being made up for by the black, forked tongue stretching out of the white maw. The serpent gathered itself and slithered out of the tub, a surprising number of vibrantly green and yellow hued frills and fins being revealed as the radiant blue scales rubbed against the tiled floor.
So entranced by the colors and utter, ridiculous grace of the dragon, Harry didn’t realised until too late that the Slytherin’s animagus form now ringed the entire room. All seventy feet of it or so.
Shit, Harry thought.
Distantly, Harry noted that the dragon had no gills, though a pair of green frills at his throat gave the appearance of them. There was also no blowhole. And no wings. So maybe it was just an especially large serpent... not that the thought was any comfort. Especially with the horns.
The Serpent sighed, or seemed too, and turned to head back into the pool. With the way he was laid out, this moved his rapidly moving body toward Harry in a diminishing circle toward the water.
At nearly seventy (more, Harry thought hysterically), feet long and easily four feet around, the water serpent was too massive and too fast to jump over or attempt to dodge. With little option, Harry fled towards the pool and jumped in, his chief concern not touching the beast and being caught out in his deception.
He knew he made a mistake the moment his foot touched the water and he fell in with a splash.
Between the violent pull of the water and the swift tightening of the serpent’s body around him, Harry had a moment of sheer panic. He beat at the coils surrounding him, tore at the brightly hued fins as he screamed and thrashed.
A greyness creeped into his vision and spots danced before his eyes. Then abruptly the coils were gone and a arm was tight across his chest, pulling him upward.
Harry broke the surface with a gasp, choking up water and writhing in his attempt to get... somewhere.
“Shhhh.” Wulfric urged into his ear as the taller boy swam towards the edge of the pool. “Just relax, I’ve got you. Ssshhh.”
Harry, realizing the futility of his situation, went lax. It was surprisingly comfortable to just float and be pulled along by strong arms for the brief time it took Wulfric to reach the edge.
“Can you climb up or do you need help?” Wulfric asked, tone careful as he held Harry up in the water.
Grasping the edge of the pool, Harry managed to hoist himself up and rolled over to cough up fluid on his side. After the bulk of his tremors had subsided and he felt merely water logged instead of drowned, he turned his attention to the brown haired boy still resting in the pool.
“You’re a dragon.” Harry managed to wheese out.
“Southern Water Serpent.” Wulfric shrugged and pulled himself up to rest mostly out of the water. “Are you alright?”
“I’ve had worse.” Harry responded, annoyed with how hoarse his voice was.
“Does not answer my question.” Wulfric looked at Harry pointedly.
No one cares, Harry thought viciously. He looked away from blue eyes. No one will help, no one can. Why pretend.
There was a slosh of water and then Wulfric was crouched over Harry, two fingers to his neck as if checking his pulse.
Harry felt Wulfric’s magic brush across him. It was similar to that in the hallway, the same not-chill-not-warmth as if it was purposefully kepping itself seperate, barely touching him. Which was a difficult feeling to keep when it was washing through his body, not-touching him everywhere. It raised the hairs on his neck and made him bite his tongue against... something.
“You seem alright.” Wulfric said, frowning. “But there’s something... Do you mind if I-?”
“Yes, I mind.” Harry snapped.
Wulfric nodded, looking apologetic. “Forgive me.” He sat up. “I seem to... what are you in here for?”
You, you wanker, Harry thought. Failing to come up with a reply he could give vocally, Harry just stared up at Wulfric. The Prefect’s lips moved, preparing to speak, and Harry thought, fuck it. He lunged up and dug a hand into the Slytherin’s hair and kissed him.
Wulfric tried to jerk away and Harry dug his fingers into his scalp. Wulfric moaned, a low sound that was pressed against Harry’s chest as the older boy gave into the kiss. Heat built and Wulfric sucked hard on Harry's bottom lip. Harry pulled at the soaking wet robes on Wulfric's shoulders. Trying to get more. Though more of what he wasn't quite sure.
Wulfric pulled away with a gasp. His eyes were wild and hungry. He licked a stripe up Harry’s neck and attacked the buttons of his shirt.
Harry arched into the first touch of Wulfric’s hands against his chest. Wulfric growled and claimed his lips in another kiss. Harry chased the tongue in his mouth and yanked at Wulfric’s clothes.
Wulfric laughed and sat up to unbutton his shirt and loosened his tie before pulling his robe and shirt off together. Long muscles flexed and a long scar pulled tight, stretching from Wulfric’s left collarbone to just above his belly button. Harry traces it with a finger, watching as muscles shiver. Harry looks up to meet Wulfric’s heated eyes before leaning up and pressing a kiss to the edge of the scar.
Wulfric bites off a noise and lays back down, bare flesh rubbing flesh as the older boy settles down to bite kisses into Harry’s skin. Together they manage to get shoes, socks and Harry’s shirt off, leaving Harry in his too big jeans and Wulfric in fitted slacks. Harry lets his hands wander, revealing in the moments when he pulls a gasp from Wulfric’s lips or a shiver from his skin.
Wulfric kisses across Harry’s jaw and whispers in his ear. “I want to suck you, Dilectus. Make you moan my name and come apart. Would you like that?”
Harry’s hips hitch up and he groans out a heartfelt, “Yes.”
Wulfric kisses down his body, paying attention to any spot that makes Harry gasp or writhe. Harry pets Wulfric’s hair and claws at his shoulders. Wulfric racks his nails down Harry’s sides and does it again when Harry moans.
So caught up in Wulfric’s mouth and tongue, Harry doesn’t notice what Wulfric’s hands are doing until he feels them wrapped around him. Harry can’t help but thrust up and Wulfric chuckles as he crawls down to push Harry’s jeans and pants down and off. For a moment, Wulfric just kneels above him, something indecipherable in his gaze.
Harry pants and feels his cheeks heat. He knows he is not a lot to look at. He’s skinny and small, with a littering of small scars. His skin is too pale. His hair constantly messy and even regular meals at Hogwarts can’t make up from the lack of food at the Dursleys.
Wulfric is tan, toned in a way that says practice and gym and he’s a goddamn dragon. He is obviously wealthy, obviously powerful and clearly experienced with what’s going on.
Then Wulfric settles himself between Harry’s knees. “You’re fucking perfect.” He breathes into his skin, nuzzling his groin.
Harry hissed out a breath and then jerks as Wulfric licks his cock from root to tip, moaning. Harry’s hips manage to thrust twice before Wulfric pinned them down, one hand on his hip and the other on his knee, spreading his legs and leaving him open.
Harry has but a moment to feel utterly opposed before its drowned out by the heat of Wulfric’s tongue and mouth.
Its good, too good. Harry manages barely a moment before he’s yanking at Wulfric’s hair in warning. Wulfric just moans and sucks.
Harry feels lights dance behind his eyes and he explodes. He comes back to himself slowly, feeling languid and warm. He curls into the warmth and it moves as Wulfric chuckles, “Who knew, Mister Proudly Improper Potter is a cuddler.”
Harry rolls and pins Wulfric in retaliation. Which is when he becomes aware that only one of them has finished. He feels his face heat and his eyes dart away to look at the pile of their rumbled clothes.
“Hey. Harry?” Wulfric’s voice is soft.
Harry forces his eyes back to Wulfric’s face. Wulfric looks… soft. Unguarded and fond in a way that seems honest. He kisses Harry softly. “I don’t want you to do anything you are not comfortable with here. If you want to end it here, that’s fine. I’m… I’m guessing this is your first time?”
Harry blushes even harder. “I… yeah.”
Wulfric frowns. “I’m sorry. If I had known I would have done this… better.”
“Better?” Harry states.
“With a bed. A couple dates first.” Wulfric shrugs. “I never would have just…”
“Sucked me off?” Harry said with a grin.
Wulfric laughs. “Yeah.”
Harry kisses him. Wulfric moans and grabs his hips, letting Harry lead the kiss. When they finally break apart, Wulfric’s hair is a wreck and his blush is showing through his tan. Harry pets his hair and leans down to finally bite along his neck. Wulfric lets out a breathy noise and curls a hand in Harry’s hair.
Harry slides a hand down Wulfric’s body to cup the other boy’s groin. The fabric of Wulfric’s slacks are wet from the tub and it makes it a struggle to undo the belt and button. Harry struggles with it as Wulfric kisses his chin and neck. But the pants come undone and Wulfric lifts his hips enough from Harry to pull them down enough to bunch both slacks and underwear around his knees.
Harry stares. Wulfric’s dark hair is darker here, coarser to the touch and his cock stands proud and dark from his nest of curls. Harry curls a hand around it. It throbs in his hand and Harry gives it a gentle stroke.
Wulfric hisses. “Dry. Mind if I?”
Harry shakes his head.
Wulfric mutters a short phrase then Harry’s palm is coated in lubricant. Harry mutters his thanks, blushing even as he tightens his grip and strokes. Wulfric hand reaches to cradle Harry’s face. The older boys leans up to mummer in Harry’s ear. “Just do it like you would for yourself. No pressure. Yeah, just like that.”
Its slow. Harry finds himself taking his time, backing off whenever Wulfric’s breath hitches or a whine escaped his throat. Gripping harder when Wulfric’s hips thrust up and losening his hold whenever the other boy’s hands flexes on Harry’s hip.
Finally, Wulfric grips Harry’s shoulders in both hands and kisses him. Wet and sloppy with little of the former finesse he had shown. Harry groans into it as he speds up his strokes and in moments his palm is coated in release.
Harry releases his hold and Wulfric flops back, chest heaving and arms splayed, eyes half lidded as he grins up at Harry. “Its way past curfew.”
Harry laughs and crawls over for a kiss. “Going to take points?”
Wulfric sighs and kisses back. “I think I’m off duty, right now. Maybe later. We should get you back to your dorms though.”
Harry rutts a hopeful portion of his anatomy against Wulfric’s hip. “Maybe later?”
Wulfric’s hand wraps around Harry and moves with careful strokes, a grin tilting his lips. “So I know nothing said during sex is binding, but would you go to Hogsmeade with me? This next trip. I promise we’ll do it right. I’ll even go into Puddifoot's if you want?”
Harry pants out a breath and hisses out a yes as the pressure mounting in his groin releases.