|The following article is a work of pure fiction and silliness. Any resemblance to real people or fictional characters is a happy accident. Any similarity between these made-up kids and their actions, and the wonderful characters created by J. K. Rowling is simply another coincidence. No implication as to the sexuality of any fictional characters, or actors who portray those characters, is intended.|
Draco Malfoy awoke from his dream with a start for the second day in a row. As before, his penis was erect and his pulse was racing. This time, however, he was more successful in retrieving the fragments of the dream he was having just before he was jarred awake by his thoughts. He scowled as he realized that all the images he could remember from the last few minutes were of Harry Potter - Potter naked, Potter masturbating himself, Potter masturbating Draco, Draco masturbating Potter, Potter with his hot mouth wrapped around Draco's erection, etc. etc. A veritable whirlwind slide-show of Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter in an endless variety of sexual postures.
He remembered the day before, when he was absent-mindedly jerking off, and the fact that a brief vision of Harry Potter had sent him into an orgasmic frenzy. He puzzled, still unable to figure out why that happened. His balls were aching now, needing desperately to empty themselves in a climax. Draco decided to put Harry out of his mind, and attend to his physical needs. He made his mind go blank, and placed both fists around his erection, as he had the morning before. Bending it and moving the base of it around in order to stimulate the buried parts, especially his prostate, Draco was able to stimulate his Cowper's glands into producing a nice amount of pre-cum. Swirling the big gooey drop around the head, he intended to climax as soon as possible. The problem was, as he squeezed the head of his penis, he envisioned Harry Potter sucking on it. The vision was involuntary, and would not go away. He changed his grip to a more traditional fisting technique, and envisioned Harry Potter jerking him off. No matter how hard he tried to not think of Harry, the more persistent his visions of Harry became.
Draco might have been stubborn, but he was anything but slow. He realized that he was uncontrollably turned on by Harry Potter. It wasn't a curse or a charm, because the feelings he had came from deep within Draco himself, not from any external source. He slowed down his stroking, and mused on what he had just realized. "Draco, you're gay," he thought, "deal with it. You sort of enjoyed diddling around with Crabbe and Goyle, and didn't really care for wanking with no reason, but now you have inspiration. A goal. The boy you hate is the boy you love. What will you do about that?"
He relaxed, and rubbed his wet erection up and down, letting his mind go its own way. Shortly, his body responded by giving him one of the most gratifying orgasms he had ever had. He relaxed, and when he came to his senses, he realized that he must find a way to reconcile his differences with Harry.
Harry woke up feeling guilty, because he felt he had been mean to Draco by using the Engorgio spell on him during Quidditch. It hadn't bothered him when he charmed Wood in the showers, resulting in great fun for everyone; but he felt wrong about charming Draco, partly because it gave Harry an unfair advantage at Quidditch which was contrary to his absolute ethical approach to the game; and partly for some reason he couldn't define - he just felt bad about having done it. What really puzzled him was why he felt guilty at all; Draco was the enemy after all. Somehow, somewhere, he was having feelings he couldn't explain.
Harry pondered on his dream from the night before, when he pictured Draco naked and masturbated along with him in the image. Why did that turn him on so powerfully? He tried to analyze the significance of Harry and Draco sharing a giant flying penis, but the meaning of it all eluded him for the time being. He decided to reproduce his vision of the naked Draco, and masturbate along with the vision again. He did, and it felt like a good start to a good day.
He resisted getting up just yet; he had some things to sort out. He began by thinking of all the boys he had played acound with, absent-mindedly massaging his genitals as he worked on the problem. He loved Ron unconditionally of course, and the fact that they'd had sexual contact was beside the point. It was good old fun-loving gut-wrenching sex alright, but that's all it was. His love for Ron was a deep friendship that was unchanged one way or the other because they shared some orgasms. He thought about Neville. They had diddled around countless times, and no doubt would do so many more times. Beating off with Neville, sucking his little pecker and measuring its length were absolutely delightful times; sheer fun, but there was no emotion attached to their activites. He couldn't supress a smile as he remembered Colin with his diminutive body and outsized penis. Those shotgun-style orgasms were something to behold. Harry realized that Colin had emotional feelings for him for a while, but that when Colin had played with Neville in Harry's bed, he understood that his feelings were one-sided.
But now something was different. His fantasies about Draco held some extra ingredient he couldn't quite define. Sure, Harry had fantasized about all the boys he had actually had sex with, along with countless others he hadn't, but never before did he feel that odd, extra something that he couldn't explain. Slowly, reluctantly, the concept began to gel in his brain. His heart pounded as he started to accept what had happened to him. Harry Potter was falling in love, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. He loved the boy who was his sworn enemy. What terrible irony. What a dilemma. Was he destined to endure a one-way love/hate relationship? He felt exhilharated and drained and somewhat frightened all at the same time, as he prepared to face the day.
Meanwhile Neville was having a good wank in the bed nearby, huffing and puffing, not attempting at all to be quiet. In fact, he was doing it loudly in order to entice Harry to come play. Normally Harry would have jumped at the opportunity to join Neville, but today his heart wasn't in it, barely aware of his surroundings. He was still thinking about much more serious things, and didn't have them all sorted out yet. Neville's activities got to him subconsciously of course, and he rubbed himself more firmly as he worked on his other thoughts. Before long his body was aroused anew, and he squeezed his eyes shut, shut out all external sounds, and masturbated to his new-found Draco-vision yet again. He timed it perfectly, as always.
Neville gave up on Harry for the moment, and attended to his own needs. Bed shaking, curtains vibrating, his huffing gave way to audible panting and gasping. Aah, aah, uuh, uuuh, uuuuhh, ahhhhh. Phewwwww - a marvelous dry orgasm. He didn't care any more who heard him; he knew they all did it, they all knew he did it, and showing off gave him an extra dimension of pleasure.
Ron rolled his eyes. Neville used to be the quiet one, now he was being the noisy one. Ron didn't care who did what, but he always felt he should be somewhat discreet. He rolled over and humped his pillow in relative silence, attending to his own personal fantasies.
The boys got up and headed for breakfast in the Great Hall. Neville could see that Harry was not quite himself. "Harry?"
"Mm?" said Harry, absently.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," said Harry, not quite focusing. Neville instinctively knew not to press the matter.
"Are you ready for Hogsmeade next weekend?" said Ron excitedly; "Fred and George have some great new stuff in their shop."
"Right," said Harry, not really hearing. Ron and Neville looked at each other and shrugged.
As they go to the table and sat down. Hermione started right off. "Harry - you won't believe what I've discovered about the original founders and their heirs."
With no response from Harry, she waved her hand in front of his face.
"Earth to Harry" she said. "Are you in there?"
"Oh right, good morning Hermione."
"You didn't hear a thing I said."
" 'course I did."
"Then what did I say?"
"Uh - Fred and George . . . "
"Harry, what's gotten into you? You act like you're in a trance or something."
"Sorry, Hermione - I need to work some things out. Can we talk about it later? In private?"
"Of course. Name the time." Hermione took Harry's hand briefly and squeezed it, letting him know she was always there for him, no matter what.
Excitement built throughout the school as the last weekend of the school year arrived. The Ordinary Wizarding Level exams were behind them, and just a few days of wrap-up classes remained. The final weekend of the year was traditionally celebrated by outdoor games and a celebratory trip to Hogsmeade.
Sunday afternoon, Harry, Ron, Colin and Neville were strolling down the sidewalk, talking boy-talk, chatting about nothing in particular. Harry spotted Cho Chang on the other side of the street, walking hand-in-hand with Pansy Parkinson. He smiled inwardly, thinking it was a good thing they never really got serious, and pleased that Cho would find happiness without him. The other boys hadn't noticed. They went to Fred and George's shop, and examined the new items with mounting interest. Flaming Fanged Frizbees, Dung-Filled Doughnuts, and Talking Whoopee Cushions that made wisecracks whenever they were sat on, were the featured items of the day.
Fred and George have always had similar taste in boys, and when they saw Oliver Wood entering their shop, wearing tight jeans, they both sprang a boner. They didn't have to look at each other to know they are both hard. They just knew. Harry knew too, because he was at the end of the counter and could see behind it. As he watched Fred and George bulge up, he tented his own pants. He didn't care any more if anyone saw; he realized only people who were looking for boys with erections would notice anyway, so why not give them what they're looking for?
Evening was fast approaching, so they headed for the Pub. The place was humming. All the booths were full, as well as most of the tables. Hermione and some friends were sitting on bar stools, chatting merrily. In a dark corner, unnoticed by anyone, Draco Malfoy sat alone in the shadows, at a tiny table meant for two.
Hagrid was sitting alone at a table, which had some free chairs. Harry decided to go that way. Hagrid had been taking great huge swigs from the huge tankard of ale in front of him, and was getting ever so slightly tipsy as a result. The boys walked by him, and he reached out with his enormous hands, and hoisted Harry right up onto his lap. "'Ow's me favourite boy terday," he said, as Harry turned his head to look Hagrid in the eye, getting a whiff of a strong beery odor. "Good Hagrid, thanks," said Harry.
Hagrid ordered a pitcher of butterbeer for the lot. Harry shifted his weight so as to be more balanced on Hagrid's lap, and as he did so, he was astonished to feel a gigantic erection concealed within Hagrid's robes. Hagrid realized he was found out, and said "Arr - it ain't nuthin, Harry." Harry just grinned, flashed his green eyes at Hagrid, and squirmed back and forth, making the big man suck in his breath with pleasure. The Butterbeer arrived, and the conversation turned to the boys' summer plans.