Date: Thu, 24 Dec 2020 14:30:01 +0000
From: Robert Smith <smithwritesfic@outlook.com>
Subject: The Awakening of Harry Potter: Chapter 3

NOTE: This work of fiction is set between Goblet of Fire and Order of the
Phoenix in the Harry Potter timeline. I've used the film series rather than
the books as my primary inspiration especially from a visual
perspective. Sadly I don't own any of the copyrights or characters used or
mentioned in this story and they remain the property of their respective
owners.

Chapter Three: Another Late Night

Harry Potter had become consumed by thoughts of Dudley Dursley.

It had been five days since he'd followed Dudley to that perfectly ordinary
house and witnessed something extraordinary. In those five days Harry had
barely had a thought that wasn't about Dudley or the events he'd
witnessed. The performance he had seen. Dudley couldn't possibly have known
he was there and yet the entire encounter had seemed like a fantasy from
the most hidden part of Harry's mind played out in live action just for
him. Every second of it was burned into Harry's brain. He could recall it
all in almost perfect detail. The way Dudley had moved, the sounds, the
smells and that expression as he'd climaxed. The look of pure pleasure and
contentment that had filled Dudley's face. Harry was sure he'd never forget
that.

As consumed as he was with thoughts of Dudley, Harry had continued to avoid
his cousin. He was still terrified of how Dudley would react to seeing him
again after their late night encounter nearly a week ago. An encounter that
had ended with Harry sprawled on the floor courtesy of a stiff right hand
from Dudley. A punch that had left an unmistakable mark, if not quite a
bruise, on the side of Harry's face. If the less frequent banging and
slamming of doors was any indication Dudley's mood had calmed but Harry was
sure another encounter between the two of them would lead to more violence
and it was clear to him that he was no match for Dudley's physical
superiority so he stayed hidden from Dudley.

In truth this was not a radical departure from the years Harry had spent at
Privet Drive. Most of his life had been spent avoiding contact with Dudley
not to mention his Aunt and Uncle. It was, Harry had quickly discovered,
better to avoid them than to suffer through their snide comments and veiled
threats. If it had been possible for him to spend his summers anywhere but
here he would have. Although now he wondered if that were true. Would this
unexpected overwhelming desire for Dudley keep him returning here to Privet
Drive even after that was no longer necessary?

Harry pushed this thought from his mind and once again tried to remind
himself that there were vastly more important things than Dudley Dursley
for him to be thinking of. His every waking moment should have been filled
with dread and panic. Voldemort had returned. He had killed and he would be
coming for Harry. And yet, Voldemort had not factored into his thinking
since that night with Dudley. Nor had he woken from nightmares of
Cedric. His nights, like his days, had become consumed by thoughts of
Dudley. He had woken most mornings to stained sheets and underwear. The
excitement of his dreams of Dudley having gotten the better of him in the
night.

Once again Harry realised his thoughts had turned immediately back to
Dudley.

The Daily Prophet lay discarded on the floor at his feet. He contemplated
once again flicking through its pages in search of distraction but reminded
himself that this had been entirely unsuccessful earlier in the day. He had
thought reading reports of the latest Quidditch games would serve as a
distraction but as he'd sat staring at the magical moving images of
chasers, seekers, beaters and keepers his mind had returned to
Dudley. Comparing Dudley's broad imposing build with that of his Quidditch
idols and noting that his obvious strength would make him perfectly suited
to the role of beater. This thought had soon turned to a fantasy of Dudley
as a beater for Team Gryffindor. A shared locker room and post-match
shower...

"No!"

Harry shook himself free of that particular fantasy. He did not need his
mind once again filled with thoughts of Dudley stripping off his quidditch
gear after a long hard game. Nor did he need to be thinking of Dudley's
post-match shower. Or how much he wished to be on his knees before his
cousin. To be able to taste him. To be able to make him moan and cry out in
the same animalistic way that woman had just days ago. To hear his cousin
say his name in pleasure.

Once again Harry's hand slid under the waistband of the jogging bottoms
he'd taken to wearing over the summer. There was no underwear to stop his
hand immediately wrapping around his hard cock. He'd abandoned wearing
underwear during the day after realising it was just getting in his way. A
whole extra layer to get through when his thoughts of Dudley became too
much. With his eyes closed and thoughts of Dudley consuming him Harry
stroked his dick. He'd lost count of how many times he'd brought himself to
orgasm in the days since witnessing Dudley in action. He had no idea how
many times he'd cum thinking of Dudley's surprising dirty talk. Nor did he
remember how many times he'd cum remembering Dudley's powerful thrusts or
the way the woman had choked and spluttered on his cock or any number of a
thousand things about that day that filled his mind.

"Oh God Dudley!"

He tried to imagine how it would feel to have Dudley behind him. To feel
that rough hand between his shoulder blades pushing him down and bending
him over. To feel that dick entering him like it had entered her. Harry
wanted to cry out but he knew he needed to be quiet. To be more than a
whisper would risk detection. It would risk Dudley hearing him as he'd
heard his cries in the night of Cedric. But would detection be so bad?
Dudley storming into the room and grabbing him. That large rough hand at
his throat once more. Squeezing.

"Oh fuck!"

It has come without warning. His cock exploded once more. Staining the
inside of his trousers and his hand with his cum. And once again Harry was
taking deep panting breaths after thoughts of Dudley had brought him to
orgasm. An explosive and messy orgasm. He wondered how he could possibly
still have this much cum left. How had he not drained himself dry over the
last few days? It seemed to him as if he was stroking himself to an
inevitable messy conclusion every couple of hours. Apparently his body
would make a limitless supply of cum to go along with his endless thoughts
of Dudley.

Harry slipped off his stained and sticky jogging bottoms and knew that he
needed to clean up. He'd used a combination of tissues, t-shirts and
anything else that was to hand to clean up his repeated messes over the
last few days but things were getting out of hand. Almost all of his
clothes were now dry sticky cum stained messes and he supposed there must
be an unmistakable smell filling the room. Step one then would be to open a
window. To finally allow some fresh air into the room.

The darkness outside of the house came as a surprise to Harry. He had not
expected to see a sky filled with stars as he pushed his window
open. Clearly time had gotten away from him. A glance at the small alarm
clock perched on a bedside table shocked him even more. It was
midnight. Another day lost to thoughts of Dudley.

Still an advantage to the late hour was that the house would be quiet and
empty. His cousin, his Aunt and his Uncle would all be confined to their
rooms and with any luck in a deep sleep. Harry would have the freedom to
move about as he pleased and to make a start on cleaning not just himself
but his few meager possessions. Putting on a load of laundry should, he
decided, be step two of operation clean-up.

Casting an eye around the room Harry found a loose fitting pair of checked
boxer shorts that were, to his eyes and nose, clean or close enough. With
no one else around he should be fine to move around the house in just his
underwear and a t-shirt. Under normal circumstances such a risk would not
be taken. Moving quickly he bundled up a collection of dirty clothes,
t-shirts, underwear, trousers, jumpers and even his Hogwarts robes, and as
quietly as he could carried them downstairs. He was confident that his Aunt
and Uncle would sleep through the clatters and clangs of the washing and
drying cycle. They always did. And Dudley, he knew, would have no interest
in coming to inspect the washing machine.

With the laundry on, Harry decided that it was long past time to shower. It
was fair to say that his personal hygiene had suffered as a result of his
all consuming thoughts of Dudley. As he headed back up the stairs and
toward a long overdue shower Harry heard the familiar and unmistakable
sound of a floorboard creaking. Dudley was awake.

Harry froze halfway up the stairs. Silently waiting for another creak. For
any sign that Dudley was still moving around in the hallway. The seconds
seemed to stretch on for hours but all he heard was the occasional muffled
whirl of the washing machine below him. Maybe he'd imagine the creak of the
floorboard. It was one of many sounds that had flooded his mind this
week. In many ways the sound that had started this whole thing. Or maybe
he'd caught Dudley on his way back from a late night visit to the
bathroom. Their paths almost but not quite crossing. Whatever the case may
be there was nothing but silence now. No more signs or sounds of movement
and so Harry once again began to climb the stairs albeit slower and more
cautiously than before.

As he reached the hallway at the top of the stairs Harry froze once
more. Dudley was not back in bed. His unmistakable frame, one Harry was
sure he'd memorised every detail of, practically filled the hallway now and
was blocking Harry's path although not intentionally. Dudley's back was to
Harry. He guessed he didn't know he was there and if he'd wanted to Harry
could have quietly slipped back downstairs and evaded detection. But Harry
didn't want to slip back downstairs he wanted to try and understand what he
was seeing. Dudley's ear was pressed against the door to Harry's
bedroom. This made no sense.

"Can I help you?"

As he had during their last late night encounter Harry spoke to Dudley with
infinitely more confidence than he felt and his voice, quiet as it was,
clearly startled Dudley. It was strange to see the big hulking force that
Harry had built up in his mind jump at the sound of his voice but that was
exactly what happened. To his credit Dudley recovered himself quickly,
turning and squaring up to Harry from across the hallway. His shoulders and
chest seemed to expand to fill the space and the expression on his face
made clear he was not afraid of Harry.

"What are you doing?" Dudley demanded.

"I could ask you the same thing!" It was true. Harry might have been caught
sneaking around the house in the dead of night but Dudley had been caught
with his ear pressed to Harry's door. "Are you spying on me?"

"No!" Impossibly Dudley seemed to expand further as spluttered and spat
this answer.

"I think you were..." Harry wanted to run at Dudley now. To launch himself
at him. Not in anger but in lust. He knew he couldn't possibly succeed but
he so desperately wanted to tackle Dudley to the ground so that he could
feel and taste him. In reality Harry was sure that if he launched himself
at Dudley now it would be like running into a brick wall. "...and that's OK
because I've been spying on you too."

"What...?" Dudley's confusion was apparent and understandable. Harry could
feel his confidence building. It was no longer just the pretense of
confidence but the reality of it. He had no idea what he was about to say
and yet he felt on firm footing. Or at least firmer than Dudley. "What do
you mean you've been spying on me?"

Harry took a few cautious steps closer to Dudley and he saw his cousin
tense up. His shoulders tightened and his arms tensed. Not nerves. Dudley
was preparing to fight. Preparing for Harry to jump on him once again like
he had the last time they'd been alone in this hallway and he was preparing
to respond in the same way he had before, with his fists. Harry opted
against tempting fate and taking another step closer. Besides if he got too
close to Dudley he feared he'd lose control as he had the last time. That
his desire and lust for Dudley would get the better of him once
again. Keeping apart was for the best.

Now that he was closer Harry could better take in Dudley. His cousin was
wearing a dark vest. It covered his large torso including that strong wide
chest but left his arms bare and displayed his shoulders. With just a
casual glance people would describe Dudley as fat or chubby but Harry knew
this wasn't the case. He'd spent the summer, and particularly the last few
days, studying and obsessing over Dudley and he'd come to know every inch
of him. He was big and broad and maybe even a little round at the edges but
not far. There was strength and power and muscle. Harry had witnessed that
strength and power first hand.

Alongside his vest Dudley was wearing another pair of his preferred boxer
briefs. These ones were a dark red in colour and Harry decided that red
might just be Dudley's colour. He liked them more than the dark underwear
he'd seen him in previously.

"I've been watching you..." Dudley glared at Harry as he spoke. His muscles
didn't relax. He was still ready to fight. "...all summer. It's been
enlightening. And it turns out you've been spying on me too!"

"No!" Dudley's denial was forceful and again he seemed to grow larger with
it while Harry's confidence shrunk. "I was just... walking by and I thought
I heard you... something. I heard something and..."

The force of Dudley's words disappeared as he tried to explain and justify
why Harry had caught him with his ear pressed to the door. And as the force
disappeared Harry's confidence returned. He allowed his mind to believe
that Dudley had been thinking about and obsessing over him. That something
had awoken in Dudley during their last late night meeting too.

"Just leave me alone!"

Dudley's force and strength returned now and Harry's heart sank just a
little. Of course Dudley wasn't really obsessing over him as well. The
performance he'd witnessed with that woman made clear that he and Dudley
weren't the same. Whatever Dudley had been doing outside his room it wasn't
fueled by some secret desire for Harry. And now Dudley was walking
away. Turning away from Harry and toward his own room.

"I saw you with her you know..."

Harry didn't know why he said it and as soon as the words left his mouth he
regretted them. But Dudley had stopped now and was turning back toward
Harry. Staring at him. Every muscle tense and ready to fight.

"What?"

"That woman. I saw you with her. Fucking her."

The words just kept coming out before Harry could stop them. Each one
seemed to tighten a screw within Dudley that contracted every muscle in his
body. He was a bomb ready to explode and Harry would be the target.

"How?"

"Magic..."

That word, usually forbidden in this house, seemed to release some of the
tension within Dudley. His confidence faltering at the mention of the one
advantage Harry had over him in a fight. Harry couldn't use magic outside
of Hogwarts, the Dursley's knew that, but Harry had just said he was using
it to spy on Dudley. Maybe the rules had changed. The two cousins stood in
near silence for a moment. Just the sound of their breathing disturbing the
summer night. Harry's surprisingly calm and steady, Dudley's deep and
angry.

"It was quite the performance..." More than anything Harry wanted to move
closer to Dudley. To be able to reach out and touch him. Even now when he
knew doing so would set the bomb that was Dudley Dursley to explode he
wanted to touch and taste him. But he resisted. "...amazing really."

For what seemed like an eternity Dudley said nothing but Harry could sense
the bomb defusing itself. He could see Dudley's shoulders and arms relax
just a fraction.

"Yeah...?"

The question was so unsure, so unlike the Dudley that Harry had seen with
that woman. No trace of the snarling roaring beast Harry had watched. But
that beast was still in there just waiting to come out.

"Yes. You were amazing. Big strong Dudley. A real man." Harry could sense
the animal inside Dudley stirring once again. "And she was just a grateful
whore."

The word felt alien in Harry's mouth. He wasn't sure he'd ever used it
before but Dudley seemed to appreciate it. He sniggered slightly at its
use.

"She's been after my cock for months. Filthy little married slut."

"I bet..."

"Always showing off her tits. Bending over in front of me. Begging to get
fucked." Harry watched Dudley intently as he spoke. If he didn't know any
better he'd say Dudley had forgotten he was there. He wasn't looking at
Harry but past him. Remembering. And his hands were no longer balled into
fists at his side instead one was slowly stroking at his cock through his
underwear. Dudley, Harry realised, was getting excited. "Begging for a real
man to take care of her."

"And you did..." Harry couldn't take his eyes off of Dudley. He was biting
his bottom lip as he squeezed and played with his growing erection, his
eyes closed. Dudley wasn't in the hallway with Harry right now. He was back
in that house. Back with that woman. "She loved every second."

"Such a whore!"

Harry wished that he could touch Dudley. Wished that he was close enough to
reach out and feel his large powerful chest or to run his hand over the
exposed skin of his arms. To let his hand be the one that was squeezing and
stroking Dudley's cock but he didn't dare move closer. Instead he stood
apart from Dudley and followed his lead. He began to feel and stroke at his
own erection through his loose fitting boxer shorts. It had been mere
minutes since he'd last cum but he knew he would have no trouble shooting
another load. His cock was already throbbing.

Dudley released a deep sigh. His hand was inside the boxer briefs now and
Harry could tell that he'd wrapped his fingers around his thick shaft. With
every move of Dudley's hand Harry could glimpse the base of his cock as his
underwear pulled forward.

"Her pussy was loose..." Harry wasn't sure if Dudley was talking to him or
just talking. Not that it mattered. "Old slut with a loose pussy. Not like
her daughter. That bitch was so tight she couldn't take it. I couldn't get
in and her blowjob was all teeth."

"You're so big!" Harry was willing Dudley to take his cock out. He could
still remember every detail of the long thick member but he wanted to see
it again. He wanted to see Dudley's cum shoot from it. To watch it pulse
and throb as he climaxed. "Not like me..."

Dudley's eyes snapped open at this and he was staring directly at
Harry. Still slowly stroking his cock in those now impossibly tight briefs
and looking directly at Harry.

"Show me!"

Harry couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. It wasn't possible. And
yet Dudley was staring right at him. Waiting for him to do as
commanded. Harry took a breath. He'd never exposed himself to anyone
before. Never shown his cock to another person. He'd successfully avoided
the group showers after quidditch and the communal showers and bathrooms of
Hogwarts. Even before his drunken late night daring talk with Ron he'd
suspected that he was small. And compared to Dudley he thought of himself
as tiny.

"I said show me!"

Dudley had stopped stroking now. His hand was still wrapped around his cock
but there was no movement. He was simply glaring at Harry. And so Harry did
as he was told. He dragged the waistband of his boxers down letting them
drop to his ankles and leaving himself exposed. Allowing Dudley to take in
his small skinny cock.

"Look at that thing!" Dudley was practically laughing. "I can barely see
it. Little baby dick!"

And now Dudley was laughing. Sniggering to himself at the sight of Harry
Potter's hard cock. The laughter did nothing to soften Harry's cock
though. It seemed to throb harder with each sniggering laugh from
Dudley. Pre-cum leaking from the head and down the thin shaft.

"I'm not big like you. Not a real man." Dudley once again began to slowly
stroke his cock as Harry spoke. "All that power and strength. You're
amazing."

Dudley's eyes closed again and he was back to biting his lower lip. Another
long deep sigh. Harry returned to stroking his own cock. Slowly. Matching
the speed and rhythm of Dudley's hand. For a blissful moment they continued
like this. In sync as they stroked their own cocks. Harry perpetually on
the edge of climax but somehow holding back. It was just a moment
though. Dudley's hand withdrew from his underwear and his eyes were once
again open. He glared at Harry as Harry continued to slowly and gently
stroke his own cock.

"Fucking pussy baby dick! I'm a real man!"

Dudley yanked at the waistband of his designer briefs and finally released
his cock. Harry's view of it was obscured for just a second as Dudley
tucked the waistband of his underwear under his balls but then he was
allowed to take it in. Dudley's glorious cock. Just as big and thick as
Harry remembered. A prominent vein running along the side of it. A vein
Harry desperately wanted to run his tongue along. It took all of Harry's
self control not to shoot his load at the mere sight of Dudley's
cock. Shooting his load might mean this ended and Harry didn't want this to
end.

"Wow..."

If Dudley heard Harry's admiration for his cock he did not acknowledge
it. Instead he spat. At first on his dick and then onto his hand.

"When you've got a real man's dick you need to get it wet. You wouldn't
know that baby dick."

And then Dudley was stroking again. His hand wrapped tightly around his
thick shaft. Pulling back on his foreskin and exposing the shining head of
his cock. Slick stroking sounds filling the hallway. This wasn't the slow
relaxed stroking of before but faster. Harder. More aggressive. The long
pleasurable sighs were replaced with deeper angrier grunts.

"Oh God!"

Harry couldn't help himself. He couldn't hold back any longer. The sight of
Dudley furiously stroking his cock combined with those deep aggressive
grunts had pushed him over the edge. He came but it was not the usual
explosion that marked his orgasms. Instead just a dribble of cum ran down
the shaft of his cock and over his fingers. Apparently he'd finally emptied
his balls and Dudley was laughing.

"That all you got baby dick?"

Dudley stroked faster and his grip tightened. Harry watched as his
shoulders and chest tightened. He heard Dudley's breathing get wilder and
harder. His grunts get deeper and louder. Harry knew it was coming and kept
his eyes glued to Dudley. Taking in every perfect detail of him. And then
there was the familiar wild animal like roar, a roar that must surely have
woken the whole street, and Dudley was cumming. The thick white cum
exploded from his cock. Shooting like bullets and landing with gentle
thumps on Harry's door and the carpeted floor of the hallway. Dribbles of
cum running down Dudley's shaft and covering his hand. The cum shot seemed
to last forever with each shot paired with a deep grunting moan from Harry.

"Oh my... wow..." Harry didn't have any other words. This time he could
tell that Dudley had heard his admiration. There was a little
self-satisfied smirk that gave it away.

For a moment Dudley stood with his forehead resting on Harry's door
enjoying the afterglow of his orgasm. Letting his deep breaths return to
normal. Harry couldn't take his eyes off of Dudley. This wild brute of a
man. His softening cock still exposed and somehow still dripping tiny drops
of cum onto Harry's door and the floor outside his room. This perfect
moment couldn't last forever though. Dudley wiped his hand on the front of
his dark vest smearing it with cum and then carefully tucked his cock back
into his underwear and without saying another word he was gone. Retreating
into his own room and leaving Harry alone in the hallway.

Harry wasn't entirely sure how long he'd stood in the hallway with his
boxer shorts still around his ankles. It could have been seconds or it
could have been hours. Regardless he did eventually move. Pulling his boxer
shorts back up and heading toward the door to his room. A door covered in
Dudley's cum. It was extraordinary how much Dudley had cum. The lower half
of the door seemed to be covered not to mention the pools that had landed
on the carpet. Harry stared at the door for a moment and then dropped down
to his knees. His tongue carefully, slowly, testingly dipping into a river
of Dudley's cum.

The flavour was difficult to describe. Sweetness mixed with bitter and salt
and something else. Whatever it was Harry wanted more. He was lapping the
cum up from the door. His tongue greedily searching out of every drop of it
before dropping further down to the floor and the pools Dudley had left on
the carpet. Harry wanted it all. He needed to taste Dudley. Within seconds
he had successfully lapped up all traces of Dudley's cum from the door and
the floor and was greedily licking his lips hoping to find leftovers there.