The Bunny Farm - Harry Potter Drabbles

"What are you on about now?" asked Snape, displeased to hear anything but bliss from Harry after their vigorous celebration of their imminent cohabitation.

Snape kissed him indulgently. "Didn't I tell you?" he asked innocently, "Minerva offered to lend us the Hogwarts house elves, if we can wait the week until summer."

Harry looked happy, then suspicious. "You told her before you asked me?" he said, outrage bringing a different sort of flush to his cheeks.

"Severus, sorry to bother you, but I've got a bit of a potions emergency here," said Arthur Weasley. Though coloured green by the flames, his pained expression was quite clear.

There was a whoosh and a scream, and Arthur emerged with his prick hanging out and looking worse for wear. "Well," said Arthur pathetically, "at least that got my zipper unstuck."

Neville lay in his borrowed bed at the Burrow and licked his lips, wishing he'd waited to brush his teeth. He hadn't <em>really</em> been able to taste Charlie beneath the cinnamon-laced hot cocoa, but he'd imagined he was taking a kiss from the cup when Charlie had shared.

"I'd rather you took a kiss from me," said Charlie, voice closer though his motion had been silent.

Neville blushed, realizing he'd been murmuring to himself, but the embarrassment was banished when Charlie's warm, mint-scented lips ghosted over his own.

Harry, Draco and Ron all whooped in unison as McGonagall let them out of Double Transfigurations nearly thirty minutes early. Harry caught Draco's baleful eye and flushed, but he didn't let it spoil his enthusiasm. The afternoon was beautiful, bright and sunny but not too hot, and he couldn't wait to get outside.

"I suppose you'll be wanting to use the Pitch?" said Draco in his usual snotty drawl.

Ron slung an arm over Harry's shoulders and said, "Why not play a little Seeker on Seeker? I can ref."

"I've always wanted a puppy," said Sirius, watching Harry play with his new toy.

Remus snorted. "It's not quite the same," he said, admiring the curve of Harry's arse, and the way his furry thigh-highs framed the high bollocks and wagging tail.

Harry let out a cute little bark, then went back to lapping and biting at the oversized cock and balls, growling adorably when his hungry gnawing failed to make a dent. They both groaned when Harry mounted the thing, prick slipping between the plush balls while his mouth worked at the tip.

"You know," said Harry, performing an entirely indelicate manoeuvre, "I wouldn't mind them so much if they didn't ride up like this. How do women stand it?"

Snape snorted, moving in to straighten the knickers stretched over Harry's bum. "I've no idea," he replied, hand coming around to massage Harry's prick through the slippery fabric.

"Ohhh, that's... good motivation," said Harry, bending over and spreading his legs. Snape slid his cock over Harry's cheeks, then between them, rubbing against his eager entrance. The satin rode up with each stroke of Snape's cock, but this time, Harry didn't mind a bit.

This time it was Draco laid out between his two lovers, body held fast by twining green and gold ribbons, Harry's gold binding his wrists to the headboard while Snape's green spread his legs and lifted them to the sky. A finer tendril of green silk slipped over Draco's cock and balls like a curious snake, gliding around and around until those, too, were bound tight.

"My turn," said Harry. He stole a kiss before sending a band of gold not across Draco's mouth but his eyes, making him all the more helpless for the delectable pleasures they had planned.

Percy walked along the cool, silent corridors of the dungeons, resisting the temptation as he always did to trail his fingers along the rough stone walls. It wouldn't do for the Head Boy to be noticed at such idle pursuits. He ducked through a hidden doorway, relaxing just a fraction when he saw what awaited him.

The bed they'd conjured together seemed doubly inviting with Draco tucked between its sheets, one naked shoulder providing the only clue that this wasn't just a nap. Percy undressed quietly and slipped in beside him, waking his lover with a kiss and a smile.

"I thought clouds would be... wetter," said George, rolling around on the white expanse.

Charlie laughed. "It's the spell that makes it... suitable," he said with a leer. They looked just as good as he'd imagined, the sun making their pale skin shine like copper-dusted pearl.

Charlie he moaned as he found himself surrounded, the twins' hands and mouths moving purposefully over his body.

"A brother could ask for," finished George, lips finding Charlie's for their first real kiss.

Snape's teeth were uneven, bruising the skin of James' neck in irregular patterns as he bit down again and again, as if that would keep in the sounds he made as James thrust into him as hard and fast as he could. James knew no one would hear them here, no one would know that they'd both stooped so low, finding comfort in the arms of the enemy even while James' son waited at home, safe and hidden.

James held a lot of regrets about what they did, but the sharpest one came when he spelled away the red marks.

Snape looked affronted, covering himself with his robe. "You can't believe what, Potter?" he asked icily.

That was enough to sober Harry up. "I'm sorry, please don't... it's just, I never expected this," said Harry, one hand caressing Snape's leg soothingly. He knelt up and stole a kiss, hoping to get them back on track.

Snape relented slowly, letting his robes fall open and his legs as well, nudging Harry's attention downward.

Harry bit his lip, humour dancing in his eyes as he nuzzled at Snape's erection through his pants. "But... polka dots!"

"Why couldn't you have been more like Regulus?" hissed Snape, tired of being hexed and harassed by Sirius Black.

"At least if you were queer I could kiss you quiet," said Snape bitterly, though in truth Regulus had lost interest in him months ago. He might be in with the Dark Lord, but he wasn't nearly as interesting as a real man like Lucius.

Sirius leaned back against the wall and arched his back, grin going feral. "You haven't tried, have you?" he said, everything about him an offer and a dare.

"You're spying for him," said Harry, the fire lost behind a weariness that went deeper than flesh. He levelled his wand at the pair anyway.

Percy turned to face Harry resolutely, though he stayed in the circle of Snape's arms.

"We're both spies for the Order, you idiot," said Snape harshly, pulling Percy back against him in a gesture Harry would have called comforting, had it been anyone but Snape.

"It's too good!" moaned Harry, writhing under the onslaught of two mouths teasing at his most sensitive places. His hands and feet were tied to the headboard, leaving him bent in half and completely exposed.

Draco nibbled along the curve of his arse, slipping his tongue into Harry's well-molested entrance.

"Just give in," said Snape, licking along the magical cock ring that kept Harry in torment while they had their fun.

Harry gasped at the onslaught, but he'd be damned if he'd go out in public with Crabbe and Goyle.

It started with just a brush of their lips, shouting faces so close together that they couldn't help but touch. No one was there to see, so they let it happen again, words dying as a new spark jumped between them, anger turning to something far more dangerous.

"Do it," said Draco, back against the wall and unable or unwilling to make the next move.

Harry didn't bother to answer, instead pressing his body against Draco's from mouth to knee, hands going from shirt to hair, still clutching as they kissed with a fire he'd never found with anyone else.

"Should we say seventeen Sickles each instead of a Galleon?" said Fred, looking through the price list.

George rolled his eyes and glanced around to make sure they were still alone in the shop. "I think you have bigger worries," he said, standing just close enough.

Fred snorted. "You have a one-track mind," he scolded, hand cupping George's growing erection. "And more than seventeen Sickles in your trousers."

George grinned. "I promise to make it worth your while." He spelled the door sign to say 'Back Soon!' and dropped to his knees, pulling out Fred's luscious cock.

"That's it, pet, suck it down," said Harry, spreading his legs to allow his slave easy access. He'd once thought of objecting when Snape knelt at his feet, but like a lodestone Snape had found his way into the service of whatever power would have him, once Voldemort had been destroyed.

Harry thrust between eager lips, amazed as always at Snape's skill and eagerness. "I think," said Harry, feeling his balls tingle at the thought of it, "I'm going to tie you to the bed all night."

Harry smirked. "You're the one that said no presents and no party." The icing was starting to melt a bit around the edges, the 'y's running down his left side, the H a little lopsided, but it was still legible.

"Well," said Percy, smudging a finger around the 'a', which happened to also be Harry's nipple. "Happy Birthday to me."

Harry grinned and pointed, though Percy couldn't have missed his confection-coated cock. "Do you like your candle?"

"What kind of a person only owns one teacup?" said Percy exasperatedly, searching through Harry's cupboards.

"The sort that doesn't have company to breakfast," said Harry, rolling his eyes. "One of each, that's all a lonely bachelor needs, isn't it?"

Percy shot him a glare. "You're not lonely now. I insist you fix this problem before--" He stopped, suddenly unsure of himself.

Harry moved up next to him, towel slipping a bit more as he moulded to Percy's side. "Before next time, you mean?" he asked, looking terribly pleased with himself.

Sirius crept into Harry's bed, knowing it was wrong, but equally sure that both he and Harry needed this, needed someone to love them. "Harry?" he said softly, cuddling up to the boy.

"Sirius?" said Harry's voice, and he rolled over, caressed Sirius, kissed him. Made everything seem all right, for now.

Then another, bigger, hand smoothed its way up Sirius' flank, then down to cup his arse through his thin pyjamas. "You're sure?" said Ron's voice, close enough he was nearly part of their kiss.

Sirius froze for just a moment, then melted into both their touches. "I'm sure."

Lupin swallowed, but loosened his collar anyway. "You're sure I won't infect you?"

Snape grunted, already nuzzling at Lupin's throat. "I may become drunk on it," he said, tongue flicking to taste the skin over Lupin's fluttering pulse, "but I can only be one kind of monster."

Lupin gasped when Snape bit down, then melted into the euphoric magic. He tensed briefly when Snape's hand slipped into his trousers, then relented, letting Snape assuage both of their hungers.

"If you'd relax, it wouldn't hurt as much," said Snape, his fingers moving relentlessly despite Draco's protests.

Draco winced again, then sighed with pleasure as Snape found a much nicer place to rub. "That's better, oh," he said, feeling himself finally beginning to relax under Snape's skilful touches. "Feels good like this."

Snape snorted derisively. "If I don't massage the sore muscles, then what's the point?" His hands smoothed up Draco's back to rub at his tense shoulder blades.

Draco chuckled, turning it to a groan as Snape hit a particularly sore spot. "Reward?"

Percy's hand trembled just a little as he ran the flannel over Harry's back and shoulders, and that was enough to give Harry courage. He turned and captured Percy's mouth in a kiss, finding him just as stiff as expected until he melted into willingness.

"You, this... you mean it?" said Percy, eyes boring into Harry's, daring him to be honest.

Harry kissed him again, softly this time, and nodded. "I can actually wash my back all on my own, you know," he said teasingly, slipping one wet hand up to cradle Percy's cheek.

"Spring is almost here," said Neville quietly, looking out over the frozen garden and getting a wave from the Devil's Snare.

Snape chuckled and came up behind him, one hand finding the small of Neville's back just above the plump arse he'd grown so very, unexpectedly attached to. "You might have customers someday."

Neville laughed and kissed him. "You're just worried you'll have to cut back to once a night to keep from wearing me out."

Snape kissed back, hand moving down. "Oh, no," he said wickedly. "There's potions for that."

Harry lapped at Snape's fingers, purring happily as he rode Snape's cock long past his own orgasm. His eyes were hooded with pleasure, and the cat-ears of his costume flicked forward and then back in time with the movement of his slender hips. "Oh, thank you, sir," he said happily, when every last drop of come was gone.

Snape slipped two fingers into Harry's mouth just to give his greedy kitten something to suckle, then proceeded to show him what a proper fucking felt like.

"I thought I might find you up here," said Bill, squeezing into the child-sized treehouse. "I'm sorry."

Percy scooted as much as he could, but still ended up practically in Bill's lap and enjoying the every moment of it, not that he'd ever admit to such a thing. "Sorry for what?" asked Percy, feigning ignorance.

Bill kissed Percy's hair, and Percy froze. "Sorry for leaving," he said quietly.

Percy bit his lip, and snuggled just a little closer. "Egypt seems so far." His voice sounded small and young compared to Bill's.

Harry stood in the clearing and watched the sunlight streaming down through the dark branches, illuminating the fuzzy seeds floating on the breeze. There were pale green buds on everything, even in the deep dark places, spring finally come to the heart of the Forbidden Forest.

A rustling caught his attention, and his wand came up, only to drop again when he saw who it was. "Malfoy," he said, voice neutral.

"Potter," came the response, voice thin and exhausted, all wrong for the setting. Malfoy paused, then stepped closer and whispered, "You saved me."

"Stop, what are you, that tickles, you peasants!" said Draco, voice getting higher and louder with each word until he finally dissolved in a fit of giggling.

Fred and George pulled him into an unused classroom, hands burrowing under his clothes and manipulating all his sensitive spots until his laughter turned to gasps, and gasps to moans. "You're not really," said Fred challengingly, hand down the front of Draco's trousers.

Remus looked smug as he licked fluid from his fingers, eyes hooded as he grinned at Severus. "Was there something you wanted?" he asked innocently.

Severus couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from the smear of liquid on Remus' cheek, and before he knew it he'd wiped it up. "You missed a spot," he said, and then in revenge he sucked the clinging stuff off his finger. "Delicious."

Remus composure slipped as he watched Severus' fingers disappearing into his mouth. "Well," he said, swallowing and then turning back to the bowl, "You did say German chocolate was your favourite."

Neville sat at the table sipping champagne and watching he other heroes celebrating the end of the war in proper style. He found himself sighing as they danced, remembering his own brief, shining moments at the Yule Ball, at the Ministry, at the Battle of the Black Lake.

"I see I'm not the only outcast," said Draco, startling Neville enough that he knocked over his drink.

Draco cleared up the mess with a wave of his wand, then held out a hand. "Shall we outcasts dance?"

"Bloody hell!" yelled Harry, as Snape ripped off the first strip of cloth, and a stripe of hair off Harry's leg with it. "Why are we doing this again?"

"You don't trust me to shave you," said Snape, preparing another strip as he spoke, "and you refused the potion. This is the only method remaining."

He ripped, and Harry yelped. Harry fixed his eyes on the prize, a perfect little Slytherin girls' uniform. "It'll be worth it," he told himself, gritting his teeth as Snape continued the torment.

"I am not one of your calendar boys, Harry," said Snape dangerously, hands clawing at the bedding despite himself. He hated this feeling, this exposure, all his worst features splayed gracelessly in the cold light of day.

Harry's roaming eyes were inexorably drawn to what Snape privately considered his best feature. "It looks huge even when it's soft," Harry murmured, crawling forward over the green flannel sheets he'd bought last winter. They were softer now after two seasons of wear, but nowhere near as soft as the inside of Snape's thigh, the tempting hollow where Harry's cheek came to rest.

"If that's all you wanted to see," said Snape, trying not to be mollified despite the hot breath stirring the hairs around his groin, "then there was no need for... this."

"I like seeing all of you together," said Harry, nuzzling into the creases where everything came together. "I like that you're mine."

"Then I suppose you'll do this for me upon request as well?" asked Snape, irritated to feel his anger draining away as Harry's mouth explored, one hand on the opposite thigh to keep him spread wide.

Harry nodded absently, taking advantage of the inevitable uplifting of Snape's cock to nibble the place where it met his bollocks. "Always," he murmured, the shape a caress against Snape's skin.

Snape sighed and flopped back, defeated. Between Harry's methods of persuasion and his own underlying fear of losing Harry should he refuse to be persuaded, it was a wonder he had any dignity left at all.

Fred came home late after another unsatisfying date, some girl he'd only asked out because George was watching. He slipped quietly into their shared flat, thinking about the days when they'd shared a bed as well and wishing irrationally that their business hadn't been quite so successful, so they still had an excuse to bunk together in the tiny flat above the store.

Fred slipped quietly down the hallway to his own room and its lonely bed, opening the door just in time to watch George come with the word, "Fred," on his lips before he even opened his eyes.

"Ribbon?" said Draco disbelievingly, looking up at the Christmas-red bow centred neatly over his crossed wrists. "You're tying me up with ribbon?"

"It's got the spell on, I couldn't find anything else," said Harry, who'd only just managed to scrounge it off of some old gift box.

Draco gave an experimental tug, and sure enough his wrists were firmly bound despite the ridiculous form the bondage had taken. He closed his eyes and tugged again, feeling his cock start to firm back up. "I think," he said, stretching his body sensually for Harry's benefit, "that we need a blindfold, too."

Harry felt like the White Rabbit as he rushed down into the dungeons and through the maze of corridors, glancing at his watch and cursing the idiot who'd only put sixty minutes in each hour.

"You're late," said Snape dryly as Harry skidded around the corner. He leaned against the doorway to his chambers, robes gaping just enough that Harry could see there was nothing under them. Snape ran a hand down his chest, opening them further until his oiled erection was clearly visible. "I started without you."

"I don't know about this," said Snape when Lupin kissed him, mouth still hot and faintly sweet from the tea they'd been sharing.

"I'm not sure if this is a good idea," said Snape as Lupin lowered himself carefully onto Snape's cock.

"I don't know if this will work," said Snape the next morning when he woke to find Lupin wrapped around him.

"I don't mind," said Lupin placidly, taking a kiss despite other issues. "I'll be too old to care by the time you decide."

"I can't believe you planted aconite next to my herbs," said Remus, glaring at Snape. "The window box is for edible plants."

"I use it in your potion every month," Snape shot back, "and I got tired of buying it from that idiot Slug in the winter."

There was a moment of standoff, and then Remus shook his head and sighed. "How about we buy it its own pot?"

Snape stood his ground for a moment more, then gave in with his usual lack of grace. Privately, Remus suspected that Snape only did things like this for the make-up sex.

Draco managed to get a good haul today, bacon and sausages and even a couple of boiled eggs. He left breakfast early again, slipping out of the castle and down to the Forest where it met the Lake at his favourite hiding spot, happy to see his new friend waiting there.

"Are eggs good for dogs?" he asked, laying out the napkin full of meat and sitting beside it, fingers deftly peeling eggshells.

The shaggy black dog, who Draco still hadn't named, barked once and snuffled Draco's cheek, tail thumping.

Padfoot came romping into the kitchens with Cecil perched on his back and Bastian following along, laughing. "Aren't you two getting a bit big for doggie rides?" asked Harry with a grin, chasing the last bit of ice cream left in his bowl.

Padfoot barked and dumped Cecil unceremoniously onto Bastian, then turned back into Sirius and peered mournfully into the carton. "All gone?"

Harry laughed. "You know there's always more in the freezer, dad," he said, gesturing with his spoon.

Sirius grinned. "A dog's got to keep up his strength," he said, digging until he found what he was looking for. He plunked a fresh carton of Harry's favourite down along with the rest and said impishly, "So does a loving son who runs a wonderful home for kids."

Harry shook his head, but didn't protest when his bowl was refilled. "Hey, where'd you find those?" he asked when Sirius sprinkled miniature chocolate frogs over all of their ice cream.

"It's a secret," said Sirius, winking. "If I told you, you'd take them upstairs and do unspeakable things with Severus, and I'd never get any."

"Ewwww, gross!" said Cecil and Bastian in chorus, with which Sirius could only agree.

At first, Snape wasn't sure what he was seeing, all red hair and freckles in interesting places, but the shapes resolved themselves into Weasleys soon enough. "You... you're... brothers!" he stammered, the infraction too shocking for even his razor wit.

"We're worth it," said Fred, sitting up so Snape could see both their torsos, hard brown nipples the colour of freckles and only one cock visible between them.

"You should try us," said George, spreading his legs to make it obvious where Fred's cock had got to.

Snape shrugged; he would simply consider the invitation akin to a detention served.

"Arr, matey, shiver me timbers!" Fred had said, when Snape came by to discuss edible potions.

"Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum," George had agreed, when Snape had taken this challenge to heart and given Fred a spine-melting kiss.

George soon had his own kiss for a sample, and found it quite a bit more intoxicating than mere alcohol.

Snape, for his part, was smugly pleased to have interpreted their strange conversation correctly. Or so he assumed, as the end result was his cock in George and his arse full of Fred, while they both yelled, "Aye!"

"What are you doing? Any disruptive air currents could send unwelcome detritus into a delicate experiment," said Snape crossly.

Lupin continued to open the windows, unaffected by Snape's manner. After all, he was used to it by now. "Don't be foolish, Severus, it smells awful in here. Don't you ever air the place out?"

Snape shot back the sulky look of a bachelor whose den has been invaded by cleanliness and light.

"No one's about this time of day. Why don't you finish that up," said Lupin with a little leer, "and we can get naked and enjoy the sunshine?"

"Why are we doing potions now?" Harry whined, aware that he wasn't presenting his most attractive face at the moment. "This was supposed to be my free afternoon. Summer, remember?"

"It's a surprise," said Snape, his voice holding a humour that would certainly surprise anyone but Harry or the twins.

Harry sulked his way into the kitchen and found the cauldron set up, ingredients out and a book Harry didn't recognize already open to a recipe. His mood melted away when he read the name of the potion they were brewing. "Lucifer's Luscious Lubricant? Brilliant."

The bite in Snape's voice nearly levitated Harry off the floor, and he swallowed and looked up through fringe grown unruly and long. "How do you want me to do it, then?" he asked coquettishly.

"I don't like teeth," said Snape crossly, or as crossly as he could manage with Harry on his knees at Snape's feet, skin decorated with purple love bites and the red half-moons of much less gentle biting.

Harry purred and kissed the spot he'd just nipped. "Oh, right," he said impishly, adding a kitten-like lick for good measure, "That's me."

"All right," said Ron, chuckling a little at the absurdity of playing in with only two people left, "Truth or Dare?"

Ron sighed. "You'll do the penalty dare, then?" he asked, getting a nod from Neville. He thought for a moment, then grinned wickedly. "I dare you to kiss whoever it is."

Ron wasn't quite as surprised as he expected when Neville's warm lips brushed his own.

"It doesn't taste the same at all," said George, poking at the brie with a finger. "It's all... I dunno, musty. Cheesy. That can't be healthy."

Fred sniggered and braved another taste. "Well, it does a little. The middle bit, anyway," he said, offering his finger to George.

George licked it off, then made a considering face. "All right, that's a bit more like it, but..."

Fred grinned and slipped down George's body to lap at a stray droplet of white left over from their pre-snack activities, then finished the thought for him. "I like the real thing better, too.

Harry laughed, then tugged Draco on top of him instead. "You do know Muggles don't actually talk that way," he said, then kissed Draco anyway.

Draco looked puzzled, then grinned sheepishly. "It's not because that bear person says it," he explained, snuggling happily on top of Harry.

Draco's grin turned smug. "It's because I can hear you in my head," he said, kissing Harry's nose, then burying his own in the crook of Harry's neck. "You do great voices."

"Why do you do that?" asked Harry, watching Snape run careful fingers over each row of buttons on the rack of robes.

"Even numbers," said Snape distractedly, making a face and moving on to the next robe. He began again, each wrist first, then the long row down the centre. The cut wouldn't be as flattering, Harry thought, but Snape smiled when he was done.

"So," said Harry, moving closer and tracing his own finger over the smooth buttons, "shall I count them again later?"

Snape turned and raised an eyebrow, and Harry grinned back, understanding the unspoken word: yes.

"You're really sure your family won't mind?" asked Draco yet again, slowing his steps.

Charlie smiled and shook his head. "I'm really sure, Draco. You aren't your father."

Draco's head snapped up. "Anyone would be proud to have a Malfoy..." He swallowed, blushing. "I meant, about you being gay."

"Oh!" said Charlie, cocking his head like one of his dragons. "I'm not sure, really."

Draco's eyes went wide and he stopped altogether, but it was too late. Molly came out of the front door, saying, "Charlie! And... Draco Malfoy? Well, isn't this a surprise."

Arthur followed, looking less sanguine than his wife. "Never thought we'd have a Malfoy in the family."

"Are you sure I've got a mole there?" said Draco, twisting around in front of the mirror. He spread his arse cheeks and bent over, but his arm still blocked his view.

Harry couldn't help but laugh, coming up to kiss him sweetly and take the sting from it. "It's just that when you're in a relationship," he said teasingly, "you get seen from certain... angles."

Harry grinned and tugged him toward the bed. "Tell you what. How about I kiss it and make it better?"

"Quick, catch him!" Fred cried, circling around.

George ran, but Snape had already vanished. He paused to catch his breath and wipe the sweat from his wand hand, then pelted off in the most likely direction.

"Stop right there!" he said, taking aim at the fluttering black figure running through a grove of white birches.

"We've got you now!" said Fred, coming round the side.

They tackled Snape to the ground together, laughing and snogging him in turn. "No amount of running," said Fred, keeping him pinned.

"Will get you out of de-gnoming the garden," said George, stealing another kiss.

"Five drams, seventeen minims," said Harry, examining the white fluid in the beaker. "Not even an ounce!"

"Obviously," said Snape, coming around to look, "we need to refrain until the potion can be completed."

Harry pouted. He didn't like doing it in the lab; the tables were hard, Severus rarely kissed him, and there was a draught. "What if we took the beaker to bed?" he asked plaintively, cocking one hip and trying to look seductive instead of just rumpled.

Snape chuckled, tilting Harry's chin up and stealing a rare, sweet kiss. "I'd forget to collect the sample."

Harry smiled; that was an explanation he could understand.

Harry wiggled in his bonds, wondering what on earth Severus was up to that required he be blindfolded while Severus massaged some potion into his arse for long minutes. He squirmed more when the tickling started up, something cold and wet moving over the sensitized skin. "What are you doing?" he asked petulantly; usually by this time in the evening he had something up his arse, not on it, whether it was his lover's tongue, fingers, cock, or wand.

"You'll see," said Severus evenly, voice giving away nothing but a certain smugness.

Harry sulked more when all the touches receded, and he heard Severus casting spells. "Please, Severus, I'm so empty!" he said, arching up as best he could.

"Hold that pose, and I'll fill you soon enough," said Snape, casting a final spell to Banish Harry's blindfold.

Harry blinked at the mirrors surrounding them, angled so he wasn't looking at his own flushed, needy face but instead showing him... a carved Halloween pumpkin? "Severus, why am I looking at..." He stopped and stared again, giving an experimental wriggle that was matched in motion by the round, orange object filling his vision. "Is that my arse?"

Snape grinned. "You said you wanted to celebrate the holiday," he said wickedly, bringing the candle down so Harry could see it, the whole thing shaped like a thick, realistic cock with the wick coming out the back end rather than the blunt tip. "Now all we have to do is light you up."

"It's always so bloody cold down here," Draco whinged, though truthfully in the hotter months he basked in the coolness afforded by their proximity to the lake. In winter, the common room took on a chill that nothing seemed to dissipate, as though the walls ought to be rimed with frost.

Blaise chuckled and sat next to Draco on the small loveseat, spreading his lap blanket over the both of them. "Is that better, your lordship?" he teased.

Draco's fingers fumbled under the covers until they found Blaise's waiting hand, cold fingers tangling in Blaise's warm ones. "Now it is."

"Why on earth would I want to wear that?" asked Snape, snatching the box away before Remus could hide it. Inside was a lingerie set, a black satin merry widow with long garters, silk stockings and matching knickers, tastefully trimmed with green ribbon.

Remus flushed and shrugged. "It was just an idea," he said dismissively, though his expression was wistful.

Snape stroked the satiny fabric, imagining how it might feel against his skin. "Well," he said, setting the box on the bed and turning back to Remus, "Obviously you'll have to help me shave first, or it won't look right."

Harry had been surprised at first by this new request of Draco's, but Draco made so few demands on him that he readily assented. Now, sitting by the fire with a drink by his side, a book in his hands, and Draco curled happily at his feet, Harry could see that this was going to work out fine.

He had just one question for Draco, and he leaned down to scratch around the magically attached costume ears, getting a sweet smile in return. "I understand now," he said, continuing to pet his lover, "but why a guinea pig?"

George walked into their shared flat above the store only to find Fred blocking the way, buck naked and staring at his crotch in the hall mirror.

George laughed and went to his knees, looking closely enough to see that even the sparse fur on Fred's bollocks had been dyed. He inhaled deeply, smelling only familiar warm scents. "Depends," he said, pressing a kiss to Fred's rapidly rising prick, "Is it flavoured?"

"No," replied Fred, his breath stolen by George's taste test. "But it's non-toxic."

Harry watched the snow drifting around him with a quiet wonder, amazed that even this place could be made clean and new by its blanket of white. It was a better memorial than any monument, and he came back here every year to the spot where he'd sacrificed a piece of his soul to destroy a madman.

"You had soul enough left to forgive me," said Snape's voice from behind him, and Harry smiled and turned.

"And you still always know what I'm thinking," he replied, claiming a kiss that was all the warmer for being out in the cold.

"I always did adore this little dip," said Harry, flicking his tongue into the hollow at the base of Draco's throat. He nibbled along a collarbone, then kissed down to the nipple below.

Draco grinned and wriggled, as much as he could, bound spread-eagled to Harry's bed. "I like to be adored," he said teasingly.

Harry ignored him in favour of lavishing attention on his body, fingers tracing the elegant lines, mouth exploring the interesting dips and protrusions, savouring every taste and touch. By the time Harry was ready to listen to what Draco had to say, Draco was begging.

"You're very sure of the provenance?" asked Draco with forced nonchalance, fingering a leather strap and allowing himself to imagine that the wicked device had truly belonged to Felix the Flexible, one of the greatest sex magicians in history.

Percy swallowed as Draco's fingers slipped through one of the rings, and pointed to the phial of silvery liquid. "The memories provided are indisputable. This was the harness used in his Rite of a Thousand Strokes."

Draco grinned, not above noticing the fascination peeking through Percy's professionalism. "You're a scholar," he said, stepping closer. "Care to help me recreate the ritual?"

"This firm's highly recommended for harassment suits," said Snape dryly, handing Harry a card.

"Harness, Dickey and Pierce?" asked Harry in disbelief. "Their name is sexual harassment."

Snape chuckled and pulled Harry close. "You could come out," he said, fondling Harry's fundament proprietarily. "Then she'd have no basis to sue."

"I just, oh, didn't want to share this yet," said Harry, arching into the touches, rubbing his erection shamelessly against Snape's thigh.

"No choice," said a voice behind them, and a camera flashed. "This'll be front page tomorrow, Poofter Potter."

Note: Harness Dickey & Pierce are a RL law firm, though they specialize in an entirely different area. Heh.

"So what are we supposed to do now?" said Harry, exasperated. Latest in a long string of things no one had bothered to mention to him was the fact that the spell to destroy Voldemort would create a lifelong bond between himself and his fellow caster.

Snape took a step closer, and the new tension in Harry's chest eased. "I am no happier about this than you."

"Life bound to you, or life bound to him," said Snape, his voice weary and resigned, "is no choice at all."

"I have a new toy to show you today, pet," said Snape, nuzzling the clinging boy in his arms. Harry had taken to his training very well, and Snape decided to reward his obedience and enthusiastic service with a special treat.

"Oh, yes," said Snape, laying the limp, trusting boy out on his bed. "Do you need a nap first?"

"Nuh uh," replied Harry, stretching sensuously and blinking awake with an effort, ending up splayed and grinning, unabashed in his nudity.

Harry stood in the snow, eyes closed and flakes glistening on his black lashes, and Sirius ached. When Harry turned and smiled, blinking up at the blind windows of the house, Sirius finally understood.

He accepted the invitation written on Harry's face and came down, opening the door and leaning against the frame in nothing but his jeans, nipples hardening in the cold air. "Come inside," he said, reaching a hand out to Harry. "Let's get warm."

Harry stepped up and took it, then moved in closer and took a single, sweet kiss as well. "I thought you'd never ask."

Snape looked down at the boy curled in his bed, thin and pale as he had always been, but as much now from privation as from genetics. Snape sat down and stroked his hair, pulling the blankets back up and kissing his tousled hair.

"Sev'rus?" said Draco sleepily, turning over and smiling up with a look of warm trust that made Snape's chest tighten.

"I brought you something," said Snape, reaching into his robes. "There's groceries, too, but this is just for you."

Draco's smile as he ate the chocolate frog made all the risks worthwhile, for just a moment.

"Is that you, or the broomstick?" asked Harry when Snape's sizeable erection found its way under his robe to rub against his arse through his pants.

"Shouldn't you be watching where you're flying?" countered Snape, his hands just as distracting as his cock, pinching Harry's nipples, cupping his balls, teasing open Harry's and slipping a fingertip inside.

Harry moaned and arched back, keeping his half-lidded eyes on their heading. "Shouldn't you be fucking me?"

"We've got miles to go before we get to that," said Snape wickedly, breath hot on Harry's ear before it was stolen away by the wind.

#24: Harry/Sirius, first time, uncertainty, resolution, inevitable, 100 words for jadzia7667

Harry watched Sirius for weeks before he decided the only way to be sure was to try. Late that night, he went to Sirius' room in nothing but his pyjama bottoms.

The heat in Sirius' eyes was clearer now, and it gave Harry enough confidence to step forward, body arched and offered. "Is it wrong to want love before I go to war?" he blurted, forgetting his planned speech.

Sirius stared, first at Harry's face and then allowing his eyes to roam over Harry's body. He shook his head slowly, and held out a hand. "No, Harry, it's not wrong."

"Pinch your nipples, pet," said Snape, his voice low and dangerous as he thrust deeper into Harry's body.

Harry complied, blushing, while Draco straddled his face and said, "How did you get him to agree?"

Snape laughed, and Harry whimpered. "Don't let his innocent act fool you, he loves it."

The ready way Harry took Draco's cock into his throat seemed to bear that out, and Draco thrust into that insolent mouth with nearly as much satisfaction as Harry.

"Okay, yes, I get that I've been transported to an alternate dimension and all that, but why did I end up in England?" ranted Rodney. "Are you sure you don't have a phone?"

"Nah, mate, we're not that sort of shop," said one of the twins. Rodney hadn't bothered to learn their names or tell them apart, though he did pause to imagine them naked. Twice.

"What kind of retail establishment doesn't have a telephone?" asked Rodney, frustrated.

"A wizarding one," said the other twin, leaning in close enough to his brother to completely distract Rodney from the wizard thing.

Percy sat feeding the pigeons, staring at the pavement and missing his family like another limb, or his sight. The war was over now and he'd admitted he was wrong, but in the end there hadn't been enough forgiveness to go around.

"You'll only make them fat and lazy," said Snape, sitting down next to him, laying one warm hand on his knee.

They sat like that in silence for a while, and then Snape said softly, "It never gets any easier."

Percy said nothing, but he curled into Snape's body with a sigh, heedless of the stares of passersby.

"You're standing too close," whispered Snape irritably. Harry was practically in his lap, legs wedged between Snape's knees and crotch hovering temptingly close to Snape's face.

Harry grinned down at him, swaying his hips forward with a waft of heat and pheromones as someone pushed past him. "The train's very crowded, Severus," he said reasonably.

Snape looked around at all the people wedged into the tiny compartment and said, "Wiz- our sort generally gets from one place to another much quicker and less publicly."

Harry shifted his hips to outline the erection in his trousers. "Sometimes, I like it public."

Harry shivered as Remus' fingers grazed over his arm, so warm even with the heat of Snape's body pressed against his back. "I've never-"

Harry sighed as their clothes melted away, letting himself relax against Snape's body. Snape's hands slipped around, fingers curling into the hollows of his hipbones, while Remus kissed away his doubts.

It was a new world now, one they'd all given up so much to build, and Harry couldn't begrudge any of them this pleasure.

"So," said Draco slyly, slipping the words between firewhisky-laced kisses, "Do you play Beater or Keeper?"

Harry blinked away the fog of alcohol and lust, but the question still didn't make sense. "We're both Seekers."

"No, I mean," said Draco, running his fingers down Harry's front and dancing them up the length of Harry's cock as he explained, "Beater," then sliding them between Harry's legs to press against his entrance, "or Keeper."

Harry grinned as the meaning sank in. "I think I should try both," he said, his own hand finding its way into Draco's trousers, "just to be sure."

Blaise looked up from his dinner as someone sat at his table, eyes going wide when he recognized Harry Potter. "What are you doing here?" asked Blaise, glancing around at all the new arrivals from the Daedalus.

"Trying to bring you home," said Harry, pushing a plastic container at him. "I brought a bribe. Draco and Snape were both double agents, and we've won, and..."

"And Draco used to always talk about how he missed you, before he was killed," said Harry softly, looking down at his hands. "It made me want to know you."

[Note: Blaise in Space is wyomingnot's concept, which she requested. See her fic lj at wyoming_knott for more, sans Harry.]

"Isn't it dangerous for you here?" asked Harry, sitting on the ground and looking up into the sky, feeling the warmth of Firenze's hide against his back.

Firenze shrugged, the movement shifting both sets of front shoulders. "We are not very far into the forest," he said, curling his body a little further so Harry was cradled, slipping one strong hand into Harry's hair. "Can you see what we must do?"

Harry sighed at the touches, wondering how exactly he kept ending up in this situation. "Sex magic it is," he said, fingers already working the buttons on his robes.

Harry slipped up into the tiny attic, only to find he wasn't as alone as he'd hoped. "Neville, what are you doing here?" he asked, peering through the dusty sunbeams.

"I'm growing Pygmy Passion Poppies," said Neville with a little blush, pointing to the suggestively pink flowers in their window box. "Sprout wouldn't let me put them in the greenhouse where they might incite the Firsties."

Curious, Harry moved forward for a closer look and got a face-full of aphrodisiac pollen instead. He finally noticed that Neville was wearing a safety mask, but only because it kept them from kissing.

"I did what I had to do," said Harry, voice barely more than a whisper, skin paper-pale.

Harry huddled into his warmth, one frail hand touching Sirius' rosy cheek. "I couldn't go on without you," he said, only his eyes still full of life. "Everyone's left me, but I knew where you'd gone."

Sirius kissed his forehead. "I'm here now, love," he said, carrying Harry upwards, away from the Veil. Sirius had watched them arrive one by one through other doors, but he only had enough left in him for Harry.

Harry was in the back stacks again, looking in vain for some way to breathe underwater, and he nearly jumped out of his skin when something insinuated itself between his legs. "Pa- Snuffles! What are you doing here?" he said between giggles, shoving the dog's face away.

Seconds later, he found himself with his hands tangled in Sirius' hair, and a warm, familiar body pressed up against his own. "You hadn't come to the cave in awhile," said Sirius, nuzzling at Harry's cheek. "I missed you."

Harry glanced around, then stole a kiss from his godfather. "I always miss you."

Harry skirted his way around the circle, attempting vainly to stay out of whatever weird game the other fifth years were playing. "Oi, Harry, it's you!" said a laughing voice, and he froze and turned, only to find that the empty butterbeer bottle was definitely pointing at him.

Harry sighed. "What do I have to do?" he asked, glancing furtively around the circle.

Seamus stood up with a lopsided grin. "You get to kiss me!" he said, and they all laughed.

Harry tried to think of some excuse, but they all died in his throat when Seamus pulled him close.

Lucius pulled the small, wounded boy into his arms, surprised at how little Harry weighed. "We have to get him out of here," he said, feet crunching in the snow.

"So, you've finally seen the light?" said Snape sardonically, already leading them out of the grove, mistletoe burning on the bare trees and sending smoke into the sky along with their steaming breath.

Lucius glanced back at the site of Voldemort's latest mad rite, then nodded. "Our Lord has lost his mind. Potter saved my son, if not my wife."

"Are you sure they'll be all right with us?" asked Harry again, fidgeting with the box of Muggle Christmas ornaments he'd bought as a peace offering.

Ron pulled Harry close, kissing him right there on the front porch of the Burrow. "They've always wanted you in the family, Harry."

"I've even learned to forgive that you didn't choose Ginny," said Molly, opening the door and giving them a sharp, motherly smile. "As long as you're making an honest man of my Ronald, that is."

Harry laughed, face red, and nodded. "Promise," he said, his smile filled with warmth and love.

"Please, Harry, I'm sorry," said Draco, leaning his forehead against the door to what had been their flat, up until about five minutes ago.

"Why should I believe you?" said Harry from the other side, voice thick and angry.

There was a long moment of silence, and then the door cracked open. "Two minutes, Draco, and then I'm having Dobby send all your stuff to the Arctic."

Draco sighed and reached into his pocket; this was not how he'd planned to propose.

December 12
Harry/Twins, Christmassy Weasley Wizard Wheezes, 100 words for tildathebuilder

"I know what you need in your stocking this year," said George, sidling up next to Harry while Fred closed up shop.

"I just bet you do, but I'd rather have it in my arse," said Harry, stealing a kiss.

Harry got what he wanted that Christmas, cradled between the twins and filled by them both.

"I'll never understand why European wizards agreed to use the Muggle Euro," said Snape, poking the pile of bank notes that they'd received in exchange for their Galleons.

Harry chuckled, thanked the goblin and pocketed the notes. "I'll make it worth your while," he said, slipping his hand into Snape's as they left Gringotts.

Snape glowered, but the venom had gone out of it. "Very little could make the French worthwhile."

At first, Harry didn't understand the strange messages that Hedwig brought, damp bits of parchment covered in messy circles of black ink. He puzzled over them for days before he finally decided to ask his owl about the mysterious sender.

Hedwig led him out to the lake, where one long tentacle came waving up hopefully out of the depths.

The squid reached out and gently, tentatively touched Harry's cheek. Harry sat down on the pier and ran his hand along the rubbery flesh. "Yeah, I've been lonely this year, too."

Harry stared into the common room fire, a little ache in his chest as he thought about never seeing Sirius' face in it again. Which was replaced with physical pain when Crookshanks jumped up onto his lap, spun around with no thought to where he was putting his paws and settled down, glaring at Harry balefully and purring loudly.

"You miss him, too, huh?" said Harry quietly, stroking the surprisingly soft fur as warmth rumbled through his whole body, chasing away his grief. His insomnia followed, and he didn't wake again until morning. The comfort was worth the numb legs.

"Oh, t-thirteen, sir, please!" gasped Harry, cheeks pink and arse red from the paddling.

Sirius briefly fingered Harry's greedy, slick entrance before swatting him twice more, almost too fast for Harry to count. "What will you do next time you feel like touching yourself?" asked Sirius sternly, admiring the way Harry offered his arse up for more.

Harry spread his legs wider. "Ask you to take care of me, godfather," he replied obediently.

Sirius slid his cock easily into the heat of Harry's body. "Good boy," he said, giving the sore cheeks a squeeze. "Wands are for external use only."

They sat in silence in the kitchen, rumpled and sleepy, drinking tea as much for comfort as thirst. Harry swallowed, wishing he had biscuits to fidget with, shooting glances at Draco between twirls of his chipped mug.

It wasn't until he spotted the bit of down clinging to Draco's hair that Harry realized maybe things weren't such a disaster after all. He reached out and plucked away the single feather, and a smile found its way to his face. "Tomorrow," he said, leaning in closer, "I'll have eggs and toast for us."

"I'm tired," said Harry with a sigh, leaning his head against Charlie's shoulder. It was cold here, but it seemed an honest sort of cold, the winter sunlight crisp and thin just like the mountain air.

Charlie wrapped an arm around him, watching the dragons fly, black and glittery, against the red sunset. "Only one left," he said, turning to look at Harry.

Permission was easy to see in the green eyes, even after they closed, easy to feel in the way Harry melted against him as they kissed. Tomorrow, Harry would go back to searching, but tonight was theirs.

Bill looked down at the tousled head on his shoulder and asked the question that had been plaguing him, gave voice to the persistent doubt in his scarred heart. "You could've gone anywhere after you... well, after. Why Egypt?" He held back the real question that had haunted him since he'd lost Fleur so completely, and won Harry so unexpectedly.

"You were in Egypt," said Harry, sliding up Bill's body, skin warm and smooth as it rubbed along the length of him, mouth sweet and damp and perfect as they kissed. "And after, I finally had a chance with you."

Harry crawled obediently into his master's lap, Snape's touch warm against his bare skin. "You've been good today," said Snape, taking a kiss like a sip of wine, as his due. "How shall I reward you?"

Harry grinned, looking at the decorations he'd spent all day hanging. "May I ride you during dinner?" he asked; eating from Snape's lap was a favourite treat.

Harry blushed and nodded. "I want to be yours always, not just when we're alone."

Snape made a pleased sound and kissed him possessively. "You are a very good boy indeed."

Harry watched, entranced, as Severus and Draco charmed the fairies to stay put, flitting through the branches but never straying from the tree. He'd be allowed to help later, with the glass bulbs and charming false icicles onto the fragrant needles, but the fairies had to be coaxed and seemed to know instinctually that Harry lacked the necessary confidence. One flew over to land on his head, shining feet bouncing off the bridge of his nose as it giggled and took off again. Harry laughed.

"You shouldn't encourage them," said Severus, but it lacked conviction when followed by a kiss.

"I really, oh, don't think that's where that's meant to go," said Harry, eyes falling shut and back arching. He leaned against the mantle and spread his legs wider, closing his eyes against Santa's cheerful grin.

"It's got an Unbreakable charm on it," said Severus, easing the tapered bulb in and out of Harry's come-slicked arse, the sight nearly enough to revive him early.

Harry gasped and shuddered, then stammered, "W-we'll never get the house decorated at this r-rate."

Severus grinned, admiring the contrast between the pearly white ornament and Harry's pink, tender opening. "I'm finding this quite decorative."

Harry moaned, hips rocking forward and then back, into Draco and then onto Ron. He revelled in the feel of them, Draco's skin soft as silk, the crisp hair on Ron's chest and legs and scratchy against Harry's own tender flesh. Harry whimpered and slid his hands up Draco's chest to pluck at his nipples while Ron stroked Draco's cock, pleasure pulling them all along until one release sparked the next, and the next, and they were all spent.

Harry felt like a kid again, only a happy one, with stockings for them both hanging from the mantle, a tree full of fairies and ornaments, strung with popcorn and cranberries and love. There were piles of presents underneath, and soon enough Remus shuffled out of bed to sit by the fire.

Harry laughed and poured him a cup, then curled up in his lap to feed him sips and kisses. "Happy Christmas, Remus."

Christmas Eve Bonus
Harry/Snape, oral sex, public, failing composure, 100 words for vimeslady

"Harry's late. And on Christmas, too!" said Headmistress McGonagall irritably. "Well, there's nothing for it, we'd better start dinner."

"That, ah, seems wise," said Snape, his cheeks bright red and voice rough. He knew exactly why Harry was late, and although a part of him was annoyed to be losing his composure, a much more vocal part of him was very happy with the new use Harry had found for his invisibility cloak.

Harry grinned around Snape's cock and sucked harder. He had a very specific Christmas pudding he wanted this year, and he was determined to drink his fill.

"It's not so bad," said Remus, pressing in close behind Harry, surprised as always that Harry had never fulfilled the promise of James' stature and still fit so well in his embrace, even as a man.

"You just have to have the right partner," said Snape, positioning Harry's arms and Remus' with them, the two of them surrounding him with warmth and an affection that Harry still never quite seemed to be able to count on.

"Or teachers," said Harry with a blush, stealing a kiss from them each just before the music started, and they all began to dance.

"Have you ever thought about it?" asked Harry, sitting outside at Fortescue's despite the winter chill.

Seamus took a long sip of his Dragon Cocoa and said, "About what?" The words were wreathed with fire, and Harry stole a bit of the warmth in a kiss.

"Kids," he said, gesturing to the group levitating snowballs at each other down the Alley. "Do you miss that you can't, I mean, being with me?"

Seamus shrugged, stealing his own kiss of shining sweetness off of Harry's lips, left there by the Sun Cone he'd chosen for his treat. "I'd miss you more."

"Muggles used to imprison people for being gay?" said Harry, reading from his Christmas gift, A Queue of Queers. "Barmy."

Snape smirked. "The historical misfortunes of Oscar Wilde aside, you said you had a gift for me?"

Harry grinned. "Hold on, I've got to wrap it," he said, scampering away to their shared bedroom. He emerged quickly wearing red silk lingerie and matching lipstick, his eyes dark with kohl, smoky black thigh-highs making his legs look long and spreadable as he tottered on red high heels.

Snape considered lecturing them on the idiocy of brewing a potion in their dormitory, leaving fires unattended, and tipping over volatile ingredients in one's haste to remove one's clothing.

Fortunately for them, Snape was too busy watching the undulation of their naked bodies through the haze of smoke to do any of these things, though he did damp the fires, and clear away the miasma.

"See anything you like?" asked Draco, turning as well, their posture turning insolence into offering he had no intention of refusing.

December 29
Harry/Twins/Percy, shy, comforting, rainy day, 100 words for jycaegima

Harry sat cuddled between the twins on their wide couch, talking about nothing and watching the rain streak the windows, feeling almost like he had a family. "Days like this, it's barely worth it to open," said George.

Fred sighed when the shop bell chimed for the first time that day, and made as if to get up.

Tentative footsteps on the stairs gave him pause, and Percy's voice floated up ahead of him. "I thought I could make us some tea?" he asked.

Harry smiled for all three of them. "Sure, Percy. The sofa's always more comfortable with four."

Harry enjoyed getting up early of a Sunday to bake fresh scones. It put a smile on his lover's face, though that might also have been Harry's choice of attire -- nothing but an apron. Harry glanced over to where Snape sat, yawning over his tea and dangling the belt from his bathrobe just out of reach of their new kitten.

The robe fell open artfully, and Harry brought over the jar of Molly's fresh jam to sit next to the dish of fresh Devon cream, stealing a warm, lemony-tart kiss. "Sundays," said Harry, bending over the oven, "are my favourites."

The final smack resounded in the small room, and Snape jumped, rubbing his aching cock against Harry's thigh. "I'm sorry," whispered Snape, voice strangled though truly the pain was almost a pleasure compared to other punishments Snape had known.

"I still love you, you know," said Harry, his voice warm and almost amused, fingers teasing over Snape's hot arse and dipping into the crease. "You're still wet from before," he said, slipping two fingers inside and wrenching a moan from Snape. Harry was usually so gentle, but not today.

New Year's Eve Bonus
Harry/Bill, dragonleather, hair, quill, 100 words for faradheia

Harry unwrapped the strip of dragonhide holding Bill's hair, making it fall into his eyes and nudge the tip of his quill as he tried to write. "Come to bed," said Harry, all golden skin and inky shadows in the firelight.

Bill turned and kissed him, shedding his robes as they went. "I have to write that report sometime," he said teasingly, moaning when his wandering fingers found Harry already prepared and stretched.

Bill kissed him deeply and slid home, the worries of the world lost to the joys of the moment.

"Well, I guess it's better than the one on your arm, anyway," said Harry, turning his head sideways to stare at Draco's new tattoo. It rested in one Harry's favourite spots, just inside the curve of Draco's left hip, a little brown blob slowly forming into a proper image as the spells began to set.

"Wait until you've tasted it," said Draco wickedly, letting his trousers sag enough to give a glimpse of his half-hard prick in its nest of wispy blond curls. He smirked and added, "No more hunting around for chocolate frogs when I want you to swallow."

Draco knew it was a fool's risk that had nothing to do with good and evil, though he let Harry think otherwise. No, he came to feel smooth skin under his touch, drink in Harry's intoxicating scent, swallow the seed that no one else was privileged to taste, and plunder the delightfully tight arse of the Boy Who Lived. The joys he felt had nothing to do with duty or love, and the information he passed was only the coin he used to get Potter to whore himself.

Harry giggled, writhing in his bonds while the frogs covered his skin in tiny chocolate footprints. "Draco, I can't believe you!" he gasped out, torn between arousal and amusement as one of the wayward frogs tried to eat his nipple as though it were a particularly plump fly.

"You said you wanted to try something different," said Draco wickedly, swooping down to capture a sweet whose enchantment had nearly run out, then coming up to share the melting treat with Harry in a warm, sweet kiss. "Besides," he added, mouth moving back down Harry's body, "We'll both enjoy the cleanup."

"There's a hole in mine," said Draco, poking at the sticky-looking pastry dubiously. He really didn't think any good could come from food bought off some Muggle with a cart.

"There's supposed to be a hole in it, it's a donut, silly," said Harry, taking a big bite of his own and getting chocolate frosting on his nose, and a pink sprinkle stuck to one cheek. "Jus' twy it."

Draco snorted and leaned forward, licking the sweet stuff off Harry's face and then his lips just to be sure. "Delicious," he declared, leaning back with a smug grin.

"Mr. Malfoy," came the distressingly familiar voice, followed by a light bright enough to make Harry cringe. "I had thought you were smart enough to choose a suitable place for your-"

The voice cut off, and Harry let his head thunk against the surface of the desk he was currently spread out on, slightly less hidden beneath Draco than he might have hoped.

"Ah," Snape continued, malevolent features moving into Harry's line of sight. "Once again, you've allowed Potter to drag you down to his level. Ten points for the inappropriate location, and a further ten for your appalling taste."

"Are you sure this will work?" said Draco, pressing down gingerly, not wanting to bruise the tender flesh.

"You have to push harder than that, here, let me show you," said Harry, shaking his head. He traded places with Draco and gave a quick, sharp thrust of his hand, feeling the faint pop as he succeeded where Draco had failed.

Draco looked from Harry to the bowl of cherries still waiting to be readied for their Muggle-style cobbler and sighed. It was going to be a long afternoon.

"Why do I have to be the princess?" Draco whined again, brushing imaginary dust off the lacy hem of his fluffy pink dress. The white stockings barely reached the petticoats, tied with charmed pink ribbons that would keep them up no matter what vigorous activities Draco got up to. His hair had been adorned with sparkling barrettes, and frosty pink makeup gave a sheen to his lips, eyes and cheeks.

Harry stepped out in his own costume, a dress built of nothing but thousands of sparkling gold beads worn over a red silk corset, stockings, and nothing in between. "Because," he said, straightening his tiara with red-gloved hands, "I'm the queen."

"Are you absolutely sure this is a proper Muggle Valentine's Day tradition?" asked Draco, looking up from the construction paper covering the top of the dining room table. He had glitter all down his front, glue in his hair, and a look of utter exasperation on his normally unruffled features.

Dobby nodded, handing him the intricately cut paper heart. "Dobby is being very sure, Master Malfoy," he said, wisely removing the glue with a little tingle of cleaning magic; the glitter was very fetching, so he left it.

Draco's eyes always looked blue in the dark to Harry, even with the light of a hundred falling stars adding their fire to the moon's silvery glow. The meteor shower had been Harry's idea, something for them to do that was just them with no taint of class, blood or House, though it was a wizarding tradition to try and catch one of the precious fallen stars.

"I don't think they're falling this way anymore," said Draco quietly, bringing his broom in next to Harry's.

Harry leaned closer and whispered, "I've found something better, anyway," just before their lips met.

Harry/Draco, post-HBP, dealing with insecurities of any sort, 100 words for actress_krissie

"You're sure it doesn't show?" asked Draco again, looking at himself in the mirror.

"I'm sure, Draco," said Harry, arms cradling him from behind, hand running down the front of Draco's robes, coming to rest just above the subtle bump of Draco's prick. "Your insanity isn't visible to the naked eye."

Draco glared at him, but Harry was immune by now, too wrapped up in the confused sort of happiness that one got after one's boyfriend-cum-fiancee took a certain potion without consulting one and got himself knocked up.

Harry/Draco, on the battlefield just after the death of Voldemort, with creature!Draco,
100 words for lirren

Harry couldn't quite believe it was over. All the terror and pain these people had caused, and now they were nothing but corpses, or prisoners. A hand came to rest on Harry's shoulder, sending heat into places that had no business getting warm in this situation, and Harry smiled despite himself.

"It's really over," said Draco, and Harry could see the golden sheen to his skin, the smears of blood around a mouth that had, earlier, been a huge, wicked beak.

Harry/Draco, fun things to find in the back of a library, 200 words for chattycheese

The Dewey Decimal System had nothing on the Ungerforth Organizational Index for sheer weirdness, and Harry felt as though he might be wandering in the back of the library forever, trying to find a book on Embarrassing Failures in Sex-Enhancement Potions for an essay.

What he'd never expected to find was Draco Malfoy, one hand down his trousers and the other holding up a folio of explicit wizarding illustrations -- entirely wizarding, as there were no witches involved, just two blokes doing something that rather captured Harry's imagination much the same way it seemed to be doing Malfoy's.

"Need a hand?" said Harry, leaning against the bookshelf with false nonchalance.

Draco squeaked and nearly dropped the book, but Harry caught the rather precious volume with one hand, the other finding its way into Draco's hair. "What do you want, Potter?" said Malfoy defensively.

"You," said Harry, leaning in and finding that Malfoy's kisses were much sweeter than Ginny's, and also that he was surprisingly less guilty about that than he would have thought.

"I..." said Malfoy, and then he swallowed, eyes searching Harry's face. "I can live with that."

"You've got a leaf, just, here, hold still!" said Harry, trying to pluck the offending vegetation out of Malfoy's tousled hair.

"Stop, you'll spoil it, cut that out!" Malfoy replied, ducking and trying to block Harry's hand.

"It's already a mess! You cut it out. Got it!" said Harry, finally managing to get a hand through, fingers brushing over the fine strands, soft as spider silk. He let the leaf float away as his fingers delved a little deeper, brushing along Malfoy's scalp in something suspiciously like a caress.

"Bugger," said Malfoy, then leaned in and kissed Harry, a purr escaping his throat as Harry kept massaging his apparently sensitive scalp.

Valentine's Day always brought a very special sort of terror to Harry's life, trapped as he was at the Ministry and elected Witch Weekly's Most Eligible Bachelor, again. Every single witch, wizard, and the occasional Magical Creature managed to find some excuse to visit the Office of Widows and Orphans. Donations were at an all-time high, and Harry often thought that if he could fill his office with cute children in need of homes, he could adopt them out like kittens.

The day was nearly over, with his desk full to overflowing with cards, flowers, sweets which always went uneaten, and trinkets of varying value and taste. He'd spend the next week writing Ministry-provided Thank You notes and carefully disposing of the parcels -- last year Arthur had nicked a box of sweets and nearly been kicked out for developing a sudden crush on Rose Ewan over in Accounting.

He had nearly got things straightened out for tomorrow when he looked up and saw a familiar lean figure in the doorway, slouching against the frame.

"So," said Malfoy, clinking a velvet purse in his hand, "what's the minimum donation for a kiss?"

Harry laughed, then snatched the pouch and dropped it into the donation box, noting the change in the displayed total before tugging Draco inside and the door shut behind him. "You're in luck, there's a special on." he said, pressing Draco back against the wood with his whole body, hands on either side of Draco's head, trapping him. "One kiss per Galleon, and if you buy me dinner, you might get lucky."

"What happens if I cook it?" said Draco, lowering his mouth to Harry's in a sweet, familiar kiss.

"Lucky I've got reservations, then," said Draco, claiming another of his hundred kisses.

actress_krissie requested post-war, and something to do with carnation flowers.
Bonus points for use of quote from American Gods.

Harry's world was shrouded in monochrome, too many white lilies tossed into too many dark holes and buried uselessly along with people he used to call friends. He thought he might never wear anything but black robes again, though he had distant memories of bright reds and deep greens, rich gold and warm bronze.

Coming home from yet another miserable service, he nearly splinched himself when he materialized in a flat filled with carnations in every hue imaginable, a riot of colour sprouting over every surface, in vases of rich cobalt blue and sparkling opalescent glass edged in gold, not a single bit of white or black in sight, not even baby's breath to break up the sea of rainbow hues.

Harry summoned the card, green ink on creamy parchment that came fluttering out of one of the vases like a drab moth among butterflies, and he read the sentiment. "We'll always have Peru. -SS"

Harry shook his head, a smile on his face despite himself. They hadn't actually had Peru, yet, just a foolish comment made during yet another cold, colourless funeral, but Harry knew a promise when he saw it.

tanyad requested time turner, school-aged Severus/Professor Harry AU, toys, bdsm, first time

Professor Potter sat at his desk with the contents of Snape's illicit package strewn across his desk, and a look of shocked lust stamped onto his features. No wonder the boy had wanted a night delivery, with toys like self-thrusting dildos and quick-release cuffs -- everything a boy needed to fulfil his naughtiest fantasies, all by himself.

That thought was enough to sober Harry; not a single item in the kit required a partner, and Harry knew from watching Snape with the other students that he wasn't likely to have one any time soon.

An unmistakeable nose poked its way into Harry's office, followed by unkempt hair and worn robes draped over Snape's lanky form. "You sent for me, Pro-" Snape's eyes went wide and he cut off mid-sentence at the sight of his possessions spread out over Harry's desk.

"I think you'd better close the door," said Harry, picking up the cuffs and reading the release word on the tag before snapping it off. He stalked over to Snape, seeing not the outward appearance for once, but the lonely boy inside who so desperately wanted just exactly what Harry had to offer. "This is going to take awhile."

Snape landed heavily atop Harry as the curse whizzed through the air above them, and took the opportunity to Apparate them away. As soon as he could draw breath he said, "Of all the stupid, idiotic, imbecilic, foolhardy..."

"You're welcome," said Harry, pulling Snape's head down and silencing the stream of invective with a kiss that contained everything he'd learned about the man in the past seven years, thinking even if Snape still hated him after, it would be worth it just for the look on Snape's face.

Apparently, Harry thought, Snape had learned nothing from his experience being overturned as a Fifth Year, although Harry allowed that Snape did wear trousers most days that would keep his pants hidden.

It was just that Harry hadn't expected to go looking for a hankie and find himself faced with an entire wardrobe of knickers, stockings, garters, and even corsets in silk, satin and lace.

He really hadn't expected the accompanying mental images to get him quite so hard, so fast.

He snagged a pair of pink chiffon panties, wiped his nose on his sleeve, and called out, "Oh, Professor!"

painless_j & bethbethbeth requested masturbation in public and obsessing over something

Snape's hand moved ever so slightly under the blankets, going largely unnoticed in the general shifting and shuffling of the crowd. Only one pair of eyes discerned the gentle rhythm, and Harry was in no position to do anything about it, even had he wanted to. He divided his attention between the unlikely sight of Snape's face intent on something other than taking House points, and the skies, hoping to catch a glimpse of gold and get everyone in out of the cold.

Harry felt a jolt of heat when he saw Snape's mouth form the words, "Catch the Snitch."

The folded parchment had his name and a simple drawing of a heart on the front, done in ridiculous colour-changing ink that pulsed from red to gold and back again in a faintly nauseating manner.

"Severus," it read, "You're already mine so instead I shall ask you to bugger me senseless, Valentine or not. Love, Harry."

Harry might not be a poet, Snape thought as he tucked the card in his pocket with a smirk, but he could always be counted upon for finding the proper sentiment.

"You're ticklish!" said Harry delightedly, watching carefully as he ran his hand back up Snape's naked side. There it was again, that twitch and squirm as fingers danced over sensitive ribs.

Harry quickly found both wrists in Snape's iron grip. "If you start tickling," said Snape dangerously, his ability to intimidate intact despite his nudity, "I start spanking."

Harry bit his lip, and Snape's grip loosened just enough for Harry to slip a hand free and snake it up into Snape's armpit. Snape yelped and grabbed, pinning Harry to the bed once again.

Harry shivered as the toy inside him shifted and grew larger, a maddening dance that had him breathless and distracted as the banquet dragged on and on, and grateful that he'd declined to give any sort of speech upon receipt of his Order of Merlin. He couldn't believe that he'd allowed his lover to do this to him, and he almost gasped aloud when the toy began to vibrate subtly, quiet but relentless as it pressed itself against his sensitive prostate.

He nearly jumped out of his seat when Ron leaned in and whispered, "Why is Snape waving his wand?"

Snape stared suspiciously at the basket on his doorstep, the scent of fresh bread rising up from beneath the cloth cover to make his mouth water. A bouquet of red tulips accompanied it, a card tucked in the stems. He looked around, but the street was bright with sunshine and innocuously empty.

Throwing caution to the wind, Snape carried the basket inside; these days he couldn't afford to balk at benefiting from the mistakes of others.

It was with some confusion that he found his own name on the card, which contained an invitation to tea with one Harry Potter.

Harry shuddered and moaned, his knees threatening to buckle as Snape worked the blunted object in and out of his body relentlessly. Though the cold glide of it was maddeningly perfect, Harry knew he'd never live it down if he conceded so quickly to Snape's method of persuasion.

"I'm fairly sure," he gasped, trying to gather his wits and get some blood flowing to his brain instead of his aching prick, "that's not the proper use for Everlasting Icicles."

Besides, if all the Christmas decorations were this useful, he'd leave them up all year instead of just until Valentine's Day.

Snape screeched to a halt and pulled Harry under the faded awning, shielding the boy with his body. Footsteps ran past their hiding place, where low-hanging clouds made a concealing pool of shadow.

"Idiot boy, why did you come tonight?" Snape hissed once they were gone, even that whisper seeming too loud in the sudden quiet.

Harry looked up, eyes wide and green and far too trusting for Snape's comfort. "You needed me," he replied softly, twining his arms around Snape's neck.

It was to Snape's chagrin that the kiss which followed left him far more breathless than the pursuit.

lady_yare requested harry torments snape
by wearing naughty, girly, lacy, white lingerie under his robes

Snape shifted in his seat, swallowing as Harry did the same, though his seat was far more precarious. Though not visible now, Snape's mind provided him with a vivid image of the cause, the uncomfortable-looking white lace knickers, garters, stockings and even brassiere that Harry had made sure to model for Snape before donning his gear for his first professional match.

He'd said it was for luck, but Snape had a suspicion it had nothing to do with the game and everything to do with wanting to be bent over and fucked hard after, no matter who caught the Snitch.

Harry couldn't say he'd been dreaming of this moment for longer than the few minutes since Snape had first kissed him, but now that it had come he couldn't imagine wanting anything more. Snape's hands were dextrous and skilled on his flesh, and Harry felt clumsy in his own fumbling, though they both worked toward the same goal. The air in the alcove was close and musky, and Harry felt his knees giving way, grip tightening on Snape's shoulder, Snape's prick, as he spilled his own warm seed over Snape's fingers with a whimper that Snape captured in a kiss.

"Shouldn't you be watching the Snitch, Harry?" purred Snape, his fingers teasing along the boy's warm, sweaty crease. The uniform was so much nicer this way, shirt rucked up to expose the boy's nipples, trousers shoved down around his knees, absurd wrist guards discarded altogether. He slipped a single fingertip into the greedy opening, pinching a nipple quite firmly with the other and determinedly ignored the cock practically begging for his attention. Both his and Harry's, for the moment.

"Who needs a Snitch," Harry panted, rolling over to pull Snape down into a heated, drugging kiss, "when I've got you?"

Harry/Draco/Snape with whipped cream, chocolate & cherries, 100 words for sailorstyx

Of all the indignities he'd suffered since allowing himself to be coaxed into this... relationship, Snape felt this was the worst.

"More whipped cream on the left nipple," said Draco, ignoring Snape's scowl as he always did.

Harry obliged, and Draco plopped a bright red cherry in the centre of the white mound. This time it stayed put. "Let's do his bollocks with chocolate," said Harry, setting the whipped cream aside and getting the little pitcher of hot fudge.

"Brilliant idea," said Draco, stopping for a kiss from each of his lovers. "Snape sundae's the best idea you've had yet."

Neville ripped open the package excitedly and small pouch spilled out; Neville thought he might come just from the anticipation as he spilled the contents into his palm. They were smooth and a touch warm, a dozen beads the size of large marbles and strung half an inch apart, with a ring at one end of the strand. He looked over to Harry, who was blushing and just as hard as Neville.

"D'you like them?" Harry asked, his own Valentine's Day present of five red silk scarves draped over his otherwise naked lap.

"I want to try both our presents," said Neville, his voice a bit rough, "Right now."

Harry nodded eagerly; he was just about to burst now that they'd both found the courage to try something other than simply shagging like rabbits. "Where d'you want me?"

Neville stood, setting the gifts aside, and took a hot, sweet kiss. "Like this," he said huskily, positioning Harry on his knees and tying his wrists to his ankles and then to the bedposts, spreading him wide. The final scarf went around Harry's eyes. "All right," Neville asked, hands ghosting over Harry's warm, smooth flesh.

That was all the encouragement Neville needed; he leaned in and pressed a kiss to Harry's pink, vulnerable entrance, then retrieved the beads and a jar of lubricant. "Love you," said Neville, the only thing he could think of with the evidence of Harry's love and trust spread out before him. He licked and nibbled at the hole, dipping the beads in the jar and getting them slick, then pulled away and began pressing them inside one at a time to a chorus of whimpers and moans.

Draco squirmed, his whole body flushed and hot for reasons he wasn't quite sure he understood. "Uncle Sev'rus, what're you doing?" he asked between embarrassing little whimpers, staring down at the black head between his legs.

"Your father has asked that I collect the sample from you, Draco," said Snape, pulling reluctantly away from the delightfully responsive little entrance he'd been privileged to taste. "Did he not explain about the potion?"

Draco shook his head; Father had told him that he was to obey Snape utterly, which he always did anyway, but he'd mentioned nothing about touching. Father had been in a state ever since the house elves had reported him for dirtying his sheets in his sleep, and he'd been afraid he was in trouble and being sent to Snape for punishment. "It feels good, Uncle, I don't understand!"

Snape sighed and gave the tempting opening a last lick, before coming up and tugging Draco into his arms. No wonder Lucius was allowing Snape such free reign with his darling boy -- it was that or explain sex to Draco himself. Snape took a deep breath and began, feeling that this was going to be a very long night.

Harry lay on the dungeon floor with the ruins of his clothing around him, buttons lost and seams ripped, dirt-streaked and spattered with his own seed. Sweat beaded on his skin, and Snape's come ran down his thighs to join the mess on his spoiled uniform. Harry stretched, feeling bruised and used and absolutely wonderful, then glanced over to where Snape was straightening his own robes.

"I'm sure there was a lesson there," said Harry with an impish grin, "but I'm not sure I quite got it, professor. I think you're going to have to give me detention again tomorrow."

Snape didn't let himself rest on his laurels, though a part of him wanted to curl around Harry and sleep. Instead he pulled out and lay on his stomach on the bed, with Harry's arse perfectly positioned in front of his face.

"What... Severus?" said Harry, still caught up in the warm lassitude of release.

"Trust me," said Snape, words guaranteed to make Harry hesitate before protesting again, and let him get to the good bits where no more protests would be forthcoming. He spread Harry's cheeks wide, already salivating, and started licking up the white fluid that was already leaving glistening trails down Harry's firm thighs.

He lapped up everything that had spilled out, cleaning Harry's bollocks with the same single-minded thoroughness that he used in brewing potions, his large nose proving useful as it pressed into Harry's perineum and even teased at the tender opening. Harry was already reduced to moans, so Snape allowed himself to partake of his much-anticipated treat, tongue moving up to circle and then slip inside the slick hole. He pressed his mouth to the puckered opening and sucked, getting a trickle of his own seed and a delightful whimper in reward.

Snape hummed with delight as he licked the come from Harry's well-fucked arse; he did so enjoy having his Harry and eating him, too.

Snape raised an eyebrow as a disheveled Harry plopped down at the breakfast table with no twins in sight. His eyes came to rest on the heavy silver bracelet of snakes still adorning Harry's left wrist, and an eyebrow went up. "May I ask whom you're expecting court you at the breakfast table?" he asked dryly.

Harry looked down at the bracelet, then sighed. "It won't come off," he said, giving the snakes an ineffectual glare. "I don't think they like me very much."

"On the contrary," said Snape with just the barest hint of a smile. "They must like you very much to join you in the shower."

Harry blushed, and Snape saw a flicker of serpentine movement at his wrist. "Maybe they just feel dirty after last night?" Harry said, a flush rising to his cheeks, making the love bite on his neck stand out vividly.

"Indeed," said Snape, taking a sip of his tea, and then waiting until Harry had a mouthful of his own. "If Fred and George used the cock ring I gave them, perhaps the snakes are envious?"

The resultant spray of milky tea was all the morning entertainment Snape could have asked for.

Harry thought he'd feel silly, but once he got the stockings and gloves on his otherwise naked body, the puppy feet didn't seem as dumb as he'd thought. The collar was a comforting weight where the leash dangled down in an arc from his neck to Sirius' hand. The tail was charmed to wag just like a real dog's when Harry was happy, and it had the secondary effect of wiggling the toy that anchored it inside Harry's body, making Harry gasp, and his cock and puppy ears both perk up.

"There's a good boy," said Sirius, petting Harry's head and scratching behind the charmed-on ears. "You're going to be a good dog for me, now, aren't you?"

Harry nodded and let out a soft yip, nuzzling against Sirius' hand and wondering if it would get him in too much trouble to shove his nose in Sirius' crotch the way Padfoot always did to Harry.

Sirius stood up and opened his fly, cock hard and the head already slick with fluid. "Come get your treat, boy," he said, patting his thigh.

Apparently no trouble at all, Harry thought with a little smirk, and he fell to with his tail wagging.

"You're sure this will help me sleep?" Harry asked, looking dubiously at the cup of weak-looking tea that Snape had thrust upon him after several minutes of fiddling about with dried flowers, boiling water, a strainer and a rather entertaining quantity of swearing.

Snape rolled his eyes, crossed his arms over his chest and said, "It's a simple infusion of chamomile, Potter, what were you expecting me to give you for your aggravating restlessness?"

Harry blushed and set down the cup, moving a step closer to Snape. "Perhaps I was hoping you'd help me get rid of my excess energy."

Harry trembled as the opening door blew a draught of cold air over his fire-warmed skin. He'd taken a risk, coming here while Snape was away and laying himself out like an offering, and he was about to see if he'd be rewarded or punished for it.

"What... Potter," said Snape, first surprised, then darkly cynical. "What exactly do you think you're doing?"

Harry stretched, first rubbing his legs sensually against one another, then spreading them with a shamelessness he could only feign. "I think I'm seducing you, Professor," he said, the line sounding a bit stupider than it had in his head.

"Indeed," said Snape, with one eyebrow raised, arms crossed and, Harry thought, a twitch of life in his trousers.

Harry slid one hand down, starting from his cheek and leaving a glistening trail of oil as it travelled over his neck and collarbone, chest and stomach, past his rampant prick and down further yet to where he'd opened himself already. "Don't you want me?" he asked, circling his entrance with one slick finger.

Snape growled and drew his wand just before Harry could plunge it inside, casting a spell to bind Harry's body with silvery ropes, wrists to ankles in a way that left him helpless and exposed. "You really ought to have thought," he said, "about what I might want you for." Snape opened the placket of his trousers to let his thick cock fall free, already hard and still growing, the head emerging from the foreskin while Harry watched with the same fascination as a mouse watching the snake that was about to devour it.

Harry shivered, though he was hot all the way through this time, and arched his hips up as invitingly as he could manage. "I was pretty sure I knew."

Snape sat in his chair, dragged in from its usual place in front of the fire, and watched the two boys scramble for position on his bed. They'd both been instructed to strip and prepare themselves, which had been an entertainment in itself, and were trying to figure out between them who would get to top first.

Snape, of course, already had his agenda for this little floor show, and he waited for a few more moments before speaking up. "That's enough of that. Kiss each other like you mean it," he said sharply, shifting his hips just a little to relieve some of the pressure on his aching prick.

Harry and Draco looked at him, then each other, then Harry laid back and gave Draco's arm a tug. "C'mon, kiss me," he said, his voice low and quite a bit more seductive than Snape would've credited.

Draco, too, seemed surprised, but he let himself be pulled down and into Harry's arms. Their lips met, and it seemed as though the whole room held its breath for the half-heartbeat before Harry's mouth opened, tongue coming out to coax the same way his hand had earlier.

"You know," said Fred, putting a bow on the box of chocolates they'd prepared for dear Harry to commemorate the long-overdue realization that he was a poof, "I'm not sure this is what Harry was after."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean, dear brother," said George with a sensual smirk, dipping his finger into the bowl of leftover cream and taking a taste. "He's always said he likes nut filling in his sweets."

Fred chuckled, stealing a kiss from his brother and tasting the fruits of several hours' worth of manual labour, mixed with just enough other ingredients to make the flavour subtly more palatable. "Well, I suppose this is what you get out of a certain sort of nuts," he agreed with a grin.

"And it is a flavour I enjoy," said Harry from the doorway, moving in and dipping his finger into the viscous white stuff. He tasted it with a thoroughness that had both twins ready to start on a new batch in no time, then grinned at them both. "This is nice for a sweet," he said, stepping casually into their personal space, "but I prefer this particular nut filling straight from the source."

Snape despised Christmas. He loathed so-called holiday cheer, good will toward men, and the insipid and constant barrage of well-wishes from those who normally wouldn't give him the time of day. He hated the obligatory giving of unwanted baubles from those who hoped for some sort of favour in return, and he especially hated standing here in Quality Quidditch Supplies with a box full of chocolate Snitches in one hand and a miniature magical Quidditch game in the other.

Later that evening, however, he remembered why he'd gone to the trouble when he saw the light in Potter's eyes at the new gifts nestled under the skirt of the tree (which he'd only just tolerated Potter hauling in and certainly hadn't enjoyed being forced to help to decorate). The kisses the next morning were an added bonus, and Snape found cause to reflect that, now that Harry was old enough to know what he was about, perhaps indulging him in a few Christmas frivolities was worth the reward.

Harry glanced around the room one more time. Silver candlesticks with pure beeswax candles, check. Silk sheets and down comforter folded neatly back three times, check. Towels of Egyptian cotton, check. Lubricant made by virgin monks from pure ingredients harvested during the new moon, check. Harry himself was bathed, shaved, trimmed, oiled and plucked to within an inch of his life.

After years of coaxing, Harry was determined. No matter what excuse Draco gave, tonight Harry had finally managed every single detail of his stupid fantasy first time, and by all that was magic, Draco was going to put out.

"You're sure this is safe?" Harry asked, looking dubiously at the large, scaly bodies submerged a just few feet away. He still had vivid memories of nearly getting his arse singed off by a Hungarian Horntail.

Charlie chuckled, pulling Harry closer. "I'm sure, Harry. These are friendly dragons, and they know me." He rubbed his cheek against Harry's and whispered in his ear, "Besides, you smell like Charlie."

Harry blushed, thinking of how he'd managed to get that scent all over him. "Won't it wash away?"

Charlie kissed him, and Harry twined his arms around Charlie's neck. "We'll have to renew it, then, won't we?" he said, running his hands over Harry's smaller form. They were rough from all the hard labour involved in caring for dragons, but that was one of the things Harry liked about Charlie. He was very physical, but he was smart, too. He thought of things like scenting Harry as 'his' in order to go swimming in the dragon-warmed waters of the little mountain lake.

Harry nuzzled him, then licked the pulse-point in his throat. "We'll just have to make sure we don't end up making you smell of Harry," he said with a wink.

Oliver flung his arms around Percy with a happy shout, pressing the full length of his solid, sweat-soaked body against Percy's. Percy froze, hands still at his side as the warmth seeped into his front, as the Quidditch gear Oliver was wearing poked into Percy in surprisingly not-uncomfortable ways.

All Percy could think for a moment was, how did he know?, until he realized that Oliver knew nothing, hadn't thought beyond Percy being a warm body within arm's reach and himself flushed with victory and the sort of exuberance Percy had never really understood.

Harry lay on the bed, sticky, gasping, and grinning from ear to ear. "Well, that certainly put a smile on my face, but I thought you guys weren't going for the adult market?"

Fred lapped a bit of the green goo off one of Harry's nipples, and said "Well, you see..."

"We were making gross sweets for Halloween," said George, face pillowed happily on Harry's thigh.

Fred bit down, and Harry gasped. "And our Green Slime recipe made a brilliant lubricant."

Harry laughed, running his hand through George's sweaty, green-streaked hair. "Do I want to know how you figured this out?"

Even after all this time, Remus could never get over how young Harry smelled, the scent of ripe apples and sweat that Remus had lost somewhere in the intervening years between Hogwarts and now, between illicit trysts with Sirius and sometimes James, and illicit trysts with James' lonely son.

"I never will get why you always stop to sniff me," said Harry over his shoulder, eyes filled with laughter and something akin to wonder, a deep current of desire running beneath them both.

Remus shrugged, nipping at the firm flesh beneath his nose. "I just like the way you smell," he said, mock-defensively.

Remus laughed. "That you do," he conceded, using his hands to spread Harry wide and expose the pink little center of him. He wasted no more time woolgathering, but dived in to lick at the sensitive flesh, tasting salt, musk and the faintest hint of soap. Harry rewarded his diligence with moans and whimpers and panted breaths, pushing his arse shamelessly back onto Remus' tongue as it teased its way inside, fucking deeper with each wriggling thrust.

Snape/Harry, comment schmoop for rushlight75
inspired by the icon, which is an image from t0il_n_tr0uble

Severus always woke first, his body trained by years of getting up at the same hour each day in time for the classes he no longer taught. He sat up in bed, though the first few mornings he'd stayed carefully still, not wanting to move from Harry's clinging embrace and chance disturbing his new lover. It was only later he came to realize that very few things could wake Harry before he was ready, and Snape shifting to retrieve the Daily Prophet that Kreacher left resentfully by their bedside each morning was definitely not one of them.

Severus propped himself up and Harry shifted with him, finding a comfortable spot with his head pillowed in Snape's lap and a satisfied little smile gracing his lips. Snape tried to ignore the way his body perked up at Harry's closeness, the weight of a soft cheek right over his lap a temptation to sin that Snape was used to resisting. Though not always; some days he gave in and made them late opening the shop, or started their rest day a bit early. He threaded his fingers through the black mop of hair with the sort of smile that most people would think him incapable of, tender and loving with a tinge of real joy.

It was still a miracle to Severus that Harry slept in his bed, lived the other half of his life, willingly held ownership of his heart. He relaxed back against the headboard, fingers still moving, and decided to indulge his third, least-practiced, morning habit. He sat and watched Harry breathe, felt the warmth of Harry's body seeping into his legs, the tickle of Harry's breath through the sheet at his hip. He let himself enjoy the softness of Harry's hair and skin, petting Harry's face and head, smile softening even more when Harry turned into the touches, but didn't otherwise stir. This was the sort of rare moment that Severus would keep safe in his memories for the times they shouted and fought, because these were the mornings when he could see the depth of their relationship in Harry's even breaths, feel the reality of it in Harry's weight against his body, and admit, if only to himself, that he needed Harry just as much as Harry's clinging hands showed he himself was needed.

Fred and George had a love/hate relationship with Flitwick's detentions -- they were usually sort of fun, in a boring sort of way, but they always felt a little guilty afterwards. Flitwick's cheerful attitude about giving up his evening to discipline wayward Gryffindors was a lot more effective than one of Snape's lectures.

Well, sometimes they felt guilty. Sometimes, it worth anything to see Snape's face when he put a big spoonful of what he thought were mashed potatoes into his mouth, only to find that they'd been Transfigured -- even having been showered with slightly used horseradish immediately afterward.

It was the hissing, a sweet, soft sound that lured Ron out of bed and over towards Harry's drawn curtains. The sibilants were seductive, sensual, and he wondered what Harry was doing speaking Parseltongue in the middle of the night.

The strangest part was how surprised he wasn't when he peeked between the curtains to find Malfoy on the receiving end of Harry's vocal, and not-so-vocal, caresses. After all, Harry had been obsessed all year, and had confessed to Ron ages ago that he fancied boys.

Though, really, the stuffed snake doll draped over Malfoy's neck was a close second.

Though Remus had touched Sirius hundreds of times before, in playful shoves and foolish wrestling, friendly hugs and comforting touches, Sirius' skin had never felt so hot and smooth beneath his fingers as it did while they kissed for the first time.

Though Sirius had tasted chocolate in dozens of sweets, flavoured with mint and orange, caramel and coconut, none were so delicious as the traces of cheap chocolate frog he licked from Remus' lips, shared from Remus' tongue.

Though Remus had heard Sirius' voice in laughter and pain, joy and remorse, he'd never heard a sound so perfect as when it was filled with pleasure that he, himself had bestowed.

Though Sirius had seen Remus in moonlight and sunlight, in the throes of illness and the peak of health, he'd never been so beautiful as he was now, with his hair mussed, lips kiss-bruised and bitten, amber eyes bright with newfound wanting.

Though all of these were new, it was the familiar scents of old books and new ideas, ozone and musk that clung to them both, and gave them the strength to keep clinging to one another, from that first, tentative kiss and straight on 'til morning.

Remus/Bill, morning after Bill's first full moon after being bitten, 100 words for lady_yare

When the moon rose and Remus changed right in front of him, then sniffed his crotch like a huge, naughty dog, Bill thought his life couldn't get any stranger. It wasn't until he woke up the next morning to a very naked, very interested man snuffling at the apex of his thighs that he realized he really needed to stop thinking such things.

By the time they were done, curled up in front of the fire with the scent of sweat and wolf-musk heavy in the room, Bill knew he needed to rethink quite a few things about his life.

"Drink this, Mr. Potter. It will cleanse you and relieve any lingering... discomfort," said Snape, his voice sensual now the cold edge was softened by something Harry hoped was affection. Harry had been a bit surprised to wake in Snape's bed, but he'd quickly remembered and smiled, snuggling down into the covers. It may have been ostensibly for some stupid ritual, but Harry was quite happy to have finally found a way into Snape's pants.

Harry took the small glass bowl and drank down the fuchsia concoction inside, making a face at the overwhelmingly sweet taste. "Did you flavour this, or is it supposed to give me back my cherry or something?" he asked suspiciously, handing back the empty dish. His arse tingled and he definitely felt better, the soreness from last night banished as though they'd never even been together.

Snape coloured slightly and said, "I did not believe you wanted that to serve as your first... encounter, despite the necessity."

Harry looked a treat, bent over so that the white petticoats framed his red, well-spanked arse, the pink satin of his princess dress adding a lovely border where the ruffle was just visible. Harry's face was nearly as red as his arse, one pink-frosted lip held between his teeth as he waited for Remus to decide if he'd been punished enough for his impertinence.

"I think," he said, spreading Harry wide to expose the vulnerable entrance, "you've taken your punishment very well." Harry relaxed, his little hole flaring open as if inviting Remus inside. "I think," said Remus, running a thumb around and around the sensitive flesh, "you deserve a treat."

Harry's eyes went wide and hopeful, and Remus' grin went feral. Harry knew better than to ask for anything specific, but they'd both been talking about it for weeks now, that Remus' hands weren't so much bigger than his prick that it would be impossible. When Remus went to his knees in front of Harry to kiss and lap at the tiny-looking hole, Harry thought this was his reward.

An hour later, with Remus' wrist emerging from Harry's body and both of them sweaty and hard and more than a little amazed, Harry was quite happy to realize that he must have been a very, very good girl today after all.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I won't ask again. I didn't know, I mean, I just thought... I'm sorry," said Snape, wishing he'd left his naughty fantasies in their box under his old winter robes where they belonged. But he'd been so sure Harry would be the one to accept his eccentricities, after everything they'd been through together.

Harry's reaction had seemed good at first, and then his face had fallen, and Snape's hopes with them. He sat now, not looking at Snape, anger written in every line of his body. "I never thought you'd be this upset," Snape said quietly, pleadingly.

"I just can't believe you!" he said finally, arms crossed and face clouded with betrayal. "You're all tarted up like some torch singer, and I don't even get knickers?"

Snape gaped at Harry, then shook himself and summoned his box. He only had one complete outfit, too afraid of discovery to buy more than the one gown, but there were stockings and garters, knickers and corsets and even a set of white petticoats left in his secret stash. "You can have anything you want, Harry," he said hoarsely, pulling Harry into his arms, "as long as you still want me."

Neville's entire body was taut, tiptoes to fingertips quivering as he tried to stretch that one more inch to get the book off the top shelf. Draco contemplated letting him stand like that a bit longer, but he looked like he was about to give up and that wouldn't do at all.

Instead, Draco pressed his body up against Neville's, feeling every inch of the soft, warm, trembling body against his front as he plucked the book down from the shelf, stepping back to hand it to Neville with a habitual smirk. "Rare desert plants and their diseases, Longbottom?" he said, hovering just close enough to keep Neville looking deliciously nervous.

"My mimbulus mimbeltonia's looking off, not that you'd care," said Neville a little sadly. "Thank you," he added halfheartedly, when Draco didn't step away.

"Have you checked its soil for stinkmites?" said Draco, leaning in just a little as though he wanted to make sure that Neville could hear the low tone of his voice, at odds with his expression or the topic.

"I... n-no, I hadn't... how would you know?" Neville asked, brows knitting together. "You never pay attention in Herbology."

"I pay attention to lots of things no one realizes," said Draco, his voice getting a little rough as he let his fingers just brush the round curve of Neville's belly.

Neville's eyes went wide, then narrow and thoughtful. "No one could know about this," he said, hand coming up to touch the back of Draco's just as softly.

"No one needs to but us," said Draco, leaning in toward those plush, reddening lips. His own just brushed against them as he added, "It'll be our secret." Neville's answering whimper went straight to Draco's prick, and Draco let his hand fully rest on that lush stomach as his tongue traced the equally lush lips. This, he thought, was a much better secret than the rest of the ones he had to keep this year.

Fred and George didn't usually spy on their brothers in the loo because, frankly, who did anything interesting in there? But today Fred really, really had to go, and George was right there with him, and so they peeked through the keyhole to see what was taking Charlie so long.

It turned out to be pretty interesting, Charlie's face all red as he stood over the toilet with his pants around his ankles, and instead of hanging down his thing was hard and huge, pointing straight up, appearing and disappearing as Charlie's fist slid up and down the swollen shaft.

Harry stared at it sometimes and wondered where the other one was, exactly. It wasn't like a mirror could die, after all, or clothes or a wand for that matter, so it didn't make sense that they'd passed over or whatever stupid euphemism they felt like using today when telling him once again that Sirius was really, truly, stop doubting us please because he's dead.

Mostly, Harry just wished that Sirius was here. Even in-the-mirror here would have been good, but even better would be sitting beside him, holding him close, telling him everything would be all right.

What really hurt, he supposed, was knowing that the mirror had been so close at hand, and now it wasn't. Now that Harry remembered, Sirius was a lot more than a wish away.

Harry attended the leaving feast in what he privately thought of as Snape's favourite outfit -- naked except for his collar, and the marks of his most recent beating decorating his back, arse and thighs. He'd taken five stripes for each NEWT, a reward of sorts to show that his master appreciated the effort, but that Harry would have his love no matter what his results were.

The best part, Harry thought as he curled up on the green-and-gold cushion at Snape's feet, was that he wouldn't have to decide what to do with his life now that the was no longer a student. He'd made his Choice years ago, and now all further choices, like everything else of Harry, belonged to Snape.

"All those years on your own and you can't even make coffee?" said Harry, staring in disbelief at the mess in his once-clean kitchen. Wet, half-ground coffee was everywhere, making the kitchen look like someone had tried to make mud pies, and smell like a lot of very expensive coffee had been wasted.

"I was a whore, not a house elf. If you don't like it, come do it yourself," said Draco, hoping he came off more petulant than pleading. He'd wanted to do this as a surprise, one small nice thing that he could do for his lover that didn't involve orgasms. It was just his luck that Harry would have horrid, confusing Muggle devices that didn't function on their own at the tap of a wand.

Harry stepped forward and drew Draco into the circle of his arms, pressing a soft kiss onto pouting lips, and pretended not to notice the brightness in Draco's eyes. "I love it," he said softly, "but I'd like it better if we did it together." A wave of his wand, and the mess was gone, just the coffee maker, beans, grinder and gold filter left. "Now, did you put water in yet?"

Harry thought it rather ironic to be having their first kiss well after Snape had got him naked and begun touching him, even if the touching had been for ostensibly medical purposes. He was pretty sure that the salve for post-Cruciatus muscle soreness wasn't supposed to be applied internally, though Snape's fingers certainly felt good inside him.

"Does this mean you forgive me for running off?" Harry asked, when Snape began nibbling on his ear in a highly distracting manner.

"No," said Snape, biting Harry's neck hard enough to leave a mark. "But you can make it up to me."

"Your mouth was made for this," said Snape, spreading just a little wider. His enjoyment was only increased by the resentful glare being levelled at him, green eyes just visible over the shifting rise of his balls and cock. Harry's tongue gave a vicious little twist that made Snape moan, stabbing deeper as though in revenge for the comment, for having made Harry do this at all.

Harry's hands were tied behind his back, and then to his ankles, keeping him at Snape's mercy until the moment came to let him go, and stage the planned coup. Until then, Snape would enjoy this small moment of victory, and anyone looking in on them would have no doubt that the prisoner was definitely not enjoying Snape's chosen torture.

Harry pulled his mouth away to say, "You'll never get away with this," before pressing back in with something like eagerness, though he'd never admit it.

"You'll have to return the favour someday, Potter," Snape jeered, mouth watering at the thought of it, eyes wandering to the youthfully pert globes of the boy's undoubtedly virgin arse.

Harry's only answer was a scrape of his teeth that drew a groan of pleasure from Snape.

"Delicious," said Snape, licking the last traces of chocolate and creamy filling from his own fingers. Honeydukes had really outdone themselves with their latest invention, chocolates with insides that changed flavours according to the consumer's mood.

Remus bit his thigh sharply. "Pay attention here, or you won't get your turn," he said crossly before going back to what he'd been doing, sucking Snape's cock down to the root in one smooth motion.

"If you'd just let me swallow," said Snape placidly, still enjoying the sharp, bitter flavour lingering on his tongue, "I wouldn't have to get it from the chocolates."

The last thing in the world Harry had wanted to do was come back after he'd left school for more lessons that forced him into unwanted intimacy with Snape. It was just his luck that Snape was, for no apparent reason, Europe's foremost expert on sex magic, and that only sex magic would defeat Voldemort.

"I understand I've got to get used to penetration," said Harry crossly, whimpering softly as the unforgiving wood slid in and out of him, guided by Snape's enticingly graceful fingers. "But why does it have to be your wand?"

Harry scrubbed viciously at the stain in the corner, growing more and more irritated by the moment. Didn't the house elves ever clean in here? It was positively grotty, and he'd spent the last two hours getting what seemed like years of accumulated grime out of the grout and off the tiles. He was nearly done, and he wouldn't make this mistake again, no matter how Snape sounded when giving detentions to errant students.

"You know," he said tartly when he heard Snape enter the bathroom, "This really isn't what I meant when I offered you service on my knees."

Remus slid his tongue along the seam of Sirius' lips until they parted, heads tilting just enough more to make it easy to slip inside. Sirius tasted of mint tooth powder, tingly and cool despite the heat of his mouth, and Remus hummed with pleasure as Sirius' tongue ventured out to tangle with his.

Sirius moaned softly and pulled Remus against him, happy to have finally got one thing right. Remus tasted faintly of cinnamon from his mouthwash, all traces of onion banished.

"Next time," said Remus, threading his hands in Sirius' hair, "we definitely brush our teeth first thing."

Snape decided that the disposable tissue was the worst Muggle invention ever, owing to the sheer quantity of used ones now littering his quarters. The trash cans were full to overflowing and there were piles of the little white wads everywhere, with more scattered about seemingly at random. They were slimy, disgusting, and worst of all unsanitary.

"Can't you use a charmed handkerchief like the rest of wizardkind?" he asked irritably, shoving a pile of them out of the way so he could set down the tray of tea, dry toast and broth.

"De house elbs will clean dem ub," said Harry, blowing his nose and tossing the resultant gooey tissue aside.

Snape shook his head and handed Harry the cup of weak, sweet tea. "They've refused to come in here until you're done being ill, ever since you sneezed and turned Dobby's ears into lace antimacassars."

Harry took a sip and made a face, but forced himself to drink more anyway. "That explains the tea, anyway," he said resignedly; it was kind of Snape to make it for him, but Harry would never understand how a man who could brew Wolfsbane could bollix up a simple pot of tea.

"I've only got the one pair," said Neville, holding the pyjamas up apologetically. Colin had arrived on his doorstep wet and shivering in the sudden downpour; Neville's nearby flat was the first thing he'd thought of when it began, but then, he thought of Neville a lot lately.

"I c-could just wear the top?" Colin chattered, blushing at the idea of Neville in just the bottoms.

Neville looked at Colin appraisingly, then tossed the clothing aside. "Let's get you out of those wet clothes," he said, a shy smile and a blush belying his smooth words, "and into my bed."

"Now, just eat a tiny bit or it'll get too big," said George, handing Fred one of their patented new Ton-Tongue Toffees and lying back down on his stomach, head pillowed on his arms and legs splayed to either side of Fred.

"I did help invent them, you know," said Fred with a roll of his eyes. He pinched off a tiny pea-sized piece of the sweet and set the rest aside, then popped the small morsel into his mouth. His tongue swelled and bloated, growing to twice its usual size and length before stopping. Fred gave it an experimental waggle, then grinned and lay back down between George's legs. He wasn't sure he could talk, but he had enough control for this.

George moaned, arching and writhing as Fred's tongue slid into his crease, thicker and longer than before. It opened him wide, plunging mercilessly in, slick and nearly as fat as Fred's cock, but wriggling maddeningly. He felt Fred's lips kiss his stretched pucker, and gasped as Fred's tongue slid just that little bit further in to find and stroke his prostate. "B-brilliant idea," he stammered; it was all his favourite things combined into one perfect perversion.

"It's still bigger than mine," said Draco disgustedly. Whatever else he was going to say was lost in a gasp as the two nearly collided.

"Well, what'd you expect? It doesn't get smaller when you use it," Harry replied, rolling his eyes and shifting his grip. Malfoy was distracting him, and it was going to be very painful if he messed up.

"Doesn't it slow you down?" said Malfoy nastily, giving his own a quick tug to adjust the angle.

"I haven't heard any complaints," said Harry evenly. His broom was just the right size, no matter what Malfoy said.

"Just wait, they're not fastened yet," Harry replied, swatting Draco's arse for good measure. He carefully adjusted the stockings, admiring the way the garter belt and handprint accentuated Draco's pale skin. "There."

The flash of skin between the flouncy black skirt and stockings made Harry's mouth water for more, but he'd promised to do this Draco's way. "All right," said Harry, as Draco adjusted his frilly apron. "How long are you going to dust before we can shag?"

His mum always bothered him about the long hair, but he'd been growing it since Hogwarts, when he'd first begun doing things that would really give her a tantrum. He brushed it out carefully until it shone in copper waves, admiring the way the makeup softened his features. The corset was tight, and the charmed knickers were bloody uncomfortable, but it was all worth it. He slipped into the floor-length gown, turning to be sure that nothing showed that shouldn't, and waited for his curtain call.

Billy White was ready for her spotlight, and Bill Weasley had never felt better.

Snape never got used to waking up like this, with smooth skin and firm flesh against his own aging form, the warmth of another body in his bed, and the gentle suction of a skilled and eager mouth where it was wrapped around his morning erection. Not that he'd had many of those in the past few years, until Draco began to grace his bed.

He was coming before he even fully awoke, balls drawing up and spine melting as an agile tongue wrapped around his shaft, flicked into his slit, and massaged the length as Draco swallowed him down.

Snape ran cool fingers over the bare curves of Harry's arse, his other hand occupied with holding Harry's wrists at the small of the boy's back. "I told you I would brook no disobedience, and I meant it," he said harshly to his new Apprentice, slipping his hand between the quivering thighs to stroke Harry's balls and tease at the base of the erection pressing into his thigh. "One would think you wanted to be spanked."

Harry struggled, his trousers and pants falling farther down his thighs as his legs opened and closed. "Why d'you think I accepted your offer?"

Sirius sighed and tapped the cup with his wand, heating it just a touch and passing it back.

"This is how you like your tea, Moony," said Sirius impatiently. There was sick, and then there was completely bloody irritating.

"Don't want tea," said Remus sulkily. Sirius opened his mouth, but Remus beat him to it. "Want you."

Harry waited, limp sweaty and well-used, for the light to come back to his world. In some ways this was the best part; though he loved the kisses and caresses, the slow slide of Sirius' cock into his body and the hard, fast thrusts that followed, it was that first moment of blinking disorientation afterward that he looked forward to the most. His limbs were untied one at a time, the chafed skin rubbed and fingers kissed tenderly. A warm cloth wiped away the evidence of his own release, and cleaned the oil, sweat and seed from his thighs before retreating.

Finally, finally, he felt gentle hands on his face as the blindfold lifted away, and Harry blinked and blinked again until warm grey eyes came into focus, Sirius' long black hair mussed and glowing in the soft candlelight, surrounding a smile that said more than any words how much Sirius loved him. Harry never closed his eyes for the kisses that followed, instead tracing every line and wrinkle on Sirius' face, memorizing the fine map until the next time Sirius gave in.

Fortunately for Harry, Sirius' will was weak against his godson, and there was always a next time.

"Harry," Snape moaned softly, unable to figure out what was more erotic -- the fact that Harry was running around in nothing but an apron decorated with cross-stitch Snitches, or the fact that he was bent over, rifling through a drawer, presumably for the pattern of snowy owls he'd been threatening to put on Snape's pants if he didn't buy something other than black.

Harry turned, still bent over, face flushed and mischievous as he spread his legs just enough wider that Snape could see his shaved balls were still bound with the green ribbon Snape had taken great pleasure in tying there this morning. "Yes, sir?" he asked, and it took Snape a moment to remember that he'd actually come in here with a purpose other than fucking his delectable boy.

He strode across the floor, slipping his hand over the tempting curve of Harry's arse and teasing at the sweet entrance hidden there with two long, cold fingers. "Were you planning on dressing for my guests, or would you prefer to display your charms to the entire Malfoy family?" Snape asked, slipping a fingertip inside and finding Harry as hot and tight as the first day he'd presented himself to Snape for claiming.

Harry shivered, a small whimper coming from his lips. "W-whatever would please you, master," he said obediently, hips pushing back against Snape's probing touch.

Snape grinned. "I believe I shall put something wicked in you," he said, pulling out his wand, "and then put you in something respectable, so only the two of us know your true status."

Snape cast a lubricant spell and slid two fingers into Harry with practiced ease, making Harry moaned softly. "Yes, sir," said Harry, acquiescing as always to Snape's most outrageous demands and spreading his legs even wider.

"Good boy," said Snape in a low murmur, stretching Harry perfunctorily before removing his fingers and opening his own clothing. There was always time for this, even if it meant rushing things later in the afternoon for tea. "My good boy," he said, casting the slicking spell on his cock and sliding into Harry's hole like a key into a well-made lock, a perfect fit.

"Oh, thank you, sir," Harry whimpered, bracing himself against the cabinet.

"I assure you," said Snape, thrusting roughly into his boy, "the pleasure will be entirely mine."

Percy didn't know how he would ever get to sleep, he was so filled with excitement -- he was finally at Hogwarts! He had his very own big, soft bed with red velvet hangings, left open so he could gaze out into the dim room and reassure himself he was really here. He'd even Sorted into Gryffindor despite his private fears that he'd end up in Ravenclaw or even Hufflepuff despite Weasley family tradition. He shifted and rolled over, only to find himself face to face with one of his new roommates, a Scottish lad named Wood, obviously just as awake as Percy was.

"Can't sleep either?" Wood whispered across the dark gap between their beds. Percy shook his head mutely; he'd never really been good at making friends, and this moment of something like complicity was nearly as thrilling as the rest combined. "Want me to show you what I do when I can't sleep?"

At Percy's wide-eyed nod, Oliver got out of bed and crossed that infinite-seeming span of empty space between them, slipping under Percy's covers with a smile sweet enough to stop Percy's heart. Oliver looked shyly up at Percy through lashes that seemed dark as midnight after a lifetime of seeing ginger Weasley ones wherever he looked, and reached out to lay one small hand on Percy's pyjama-clad hip. "Ever rubbed yourself off?" he asked, cheeks faintly pink in the gloom.

Percy shook his head, voice still lost to the shock of it; he'd heard his older brothers wanking before, but hadn't ever been brave enough to try it himself. Oliver moved his hand until he was cupping Percy's soft prick in his palm, and Percy had to stifle a moan. "You'll love it," he said, scooting closer when Percy gave no resistance. "It's brilliant."

"How do you even know how to make this?" asked Ron, coming up behind Harry and putting long arms around him, chin resting on his shoulder.

Harry shrugged; he'd picked up a lot of domestic skills at the Dursley's, and he found them useful in making a happy holiday for them both. He turned and stole a kiss from wonderfully familiar lips, then went back to making Christmas pudding. "So," he asked, rubbing his cheek absently against Ron's slightly stubbly one, "what's the wizarding tradition for this?" He picked up the silver Sickle and brandished it at Ron, who'd insisted it be included in the mix.

Ron smiled and dropped into the pudding, then put his hand over Harry's and stirred until it was lost in the mix of fruits and nuts and other things. "We stir it in together, and whoever finds it gets his heart's desire," said Ron, his voice low and sweet in Harry's ear.

Harry turned in Ron's arms, abandoning the pudding in favour of another tender kiss. "What if I've already got that?" he asked.

Ron answered with a fierce kiss, and the cooking was, for the moment, forgotten in favour of other Christmas activities.

Harry stared at his plate, wondering if Snape had known the menu before betting that Harry could not, in fact, make eating his entire dinner into an erotic performance. The bangers and mash had been easy -- Harry ate the sausage whole, swirling the creamy potatoes off his spoon with his tongue; the motion of his throat while drinking pumpkin juice had been what started this whole thing in the first place. Even the rolls he'd managed well enough, breaking off little pieces and slipping them into his mouth, sucking melted butter off his fingers with single-minded concentration.

And yet, it all came down to one thing: how could you make peas sexy?

"Stop," said Percy weakly, ashamed of the breathy need in his voice, of his feeble hands batting at the madman whose mouth was bringing him such confusing pleasure. "Please," he begged, head thrashing back and forth on the stone floor while his traitorous body accepted first one then two slick fingers, sparking things inside him he hadn't known it was possible to feel.

"Ssh, pet," said Sirius, nipping at one sharp hipbone. "You'll love this," he added before sucking Percy's cock with strangely erotic concentration, his tongue dancing along the length, swirling around the head, dipping into the slit at the tip. Sirius' fingers stroked and twisted and thrust, shame and heat washing over Percy as he realized that Sirius was right -- he did love it.

Percy let his thighs fall open, let his hands do what they'd wanted all along and tangle in the matted nest of Sirius' hair, let his hips thrust up into that hot, wet mouth. "Don't stop," he whispered, red face turned away from his ravisher. He whimpered as it slowly dawned on him that he was giving his virginity to a murderer, pleading all the while for the entirely wrong sort of release.

"Just what do you think you're doing out of bounds at this hour, Mr Malfoy?" said Nearly Headless Nick, floating up behind Draco in the darkened corridor and nearly startling the life out of him.

Draco flushed, but turned and pointed to his prefect's badge, "I'm out patrolling the corridors for rulebreakers," he said coolly, hoping Sir Nicholas wouldn't ask just what particular rule he was hoping to see broken.

Nick harrumphed and gave him a suspicious glare, and Draco sagged against the wall once the faintly luminous form had drifted out of sight.

"That was close," said a voice from behind him, and Draco turned back to the alcove hidden behind the dusty tapestry on the wall behind him.

Draco lifted the heavy fabric and said, "I suppose that's why I'm watching this time," giving Harry a particularly significant glare where he was on his knees in front of Ron. "Now hurry up and start the show before he comes back."

Harry rolled his eyes and turned back to Ron's erection, bobbing nose-height out of its nest of gingery curls. "You're just sore 'cos you lost the draw," he said, then took Ron's thick cock into his mouth, spreading his knees just a bit more, and arching his back so the naked curve of his spine led especially enticingly down to the sweet valley of his arse. Harry's head began to bob, and a chorus of muffled noises drifted down from where Ron had his fist shoved into his wide mouth.

"I'm just irritable because it was my turn to fuck you, and you know it," said Draco with a small shiver at the remembered sensations of Harry's grasping, hot arse around his own needy prick.

Harry made a slightly exasperated noise and let Ron's prick go, getting a small moan of disappointment from Ron. "So cast the bloody watch spell and get in here, prat."

Draco grinned and complied eagerly, reinforcing it with silencing and notice-me-not charms as well, then stepped into the gloomy little niche and let the tapestry fall shut behind him with a grin. He began shedding his own clothing swiftly, glad they'd done a few Scourgify spells on the floor before starting this particular rendezvous.

They were all so occupied with their own pleasures that none of them noticed the whispered conversation going on above.

"I thought he'd never get in there," said the Fat Friar, his round face like a wan moon peeking through the ceiling above the scene.

"All in a day's work," Nick replied, brushing ghostly fingers through the Friar's outline and sending a shiver through them both. "You know this is my favourite part."

Draco couldn't understand why he was so cold, or why the hands on his skin burned with heat. He shivered violently as feeling tingled painfully back into his feet and hands and the cock lying limp and vulnerable against his balls. He'd been curled protectively around them before Harry had arrived, but now he was somewhere else, lying on something soft instead of freezing stones, covered not by snow and ice but Harry's body, skin pressing to his own and sending warm blood rushing to Draco's extremities.

He didn't quite have enough left over to blush when his cock began to harden, though he found the breath to moan when it was surrounded by Harry's hot, wet mouth. Warmth rushed through him as he thrust and bucked and came, leaving him limp and pliant and, most importantly, not in the least bit cold.

They sat under the enormous tree, surrounded by glittering fairy lights and the scent of pine, opening presents on their first Christmas morning together. Ron stared at the red-and-white striped pyjamas in the box. "Draco," he said, bewildered, "we sleep nude."

Draco smirked back, running warm fingers over his own naked skin, "Read the label, love."

Ron lifted the little cardboard tag and read the copy on the back. "Santa's naughtiest elves have made a candy cane for grownups! They're charmed to melt on the tongue, so give these pyjamas to your lover and make this a Christmas to remember."

Note: Draco imported the pyjamas from America, so :p to all you Britpickers ;).

"Don't think about it," said Neville, even as Percy's eyes clouded over, his forehead wrinkling. "Hush, love," said Neville, silencing whatever protest Percy might have made with a swift kiss. He savoured the taste of Percy's mouth, forcing down any lingering guilt he felt at the reason that Percy would even allow him this liberty, all the liberties he'd taken with Percy's lithe, lean body. "I'll make you forget again," Neville murmured, hand sliding down Percy's sweat-sheened skin to find his opening still slick and ready. Percy's eyes unfocused as Neville slipped into him, pleasure momentarily driving away remembered pain.

Harry slapped Draco's bottom again, just to see the white flesh ripple and then redden, reminding him of nothing so much as cherry gelatine. He found himself humming a song from some American advert as he thrust into Draco's tight opening again and again, spanking at random intervals just to hear Draco's cries of something like encouragement, or possibly protest.

When they were done, Draco rubbing at wrists gone a bit raw from the ties used to bind him, Harry was surprised to find a cold grey glare levelled at him. "I do not jiggle," said Draco indignantly.

Harry blushed.

Harry waited until the other Gryffindor players had cleared out, leaning against the shower wall and letting the steam build up around him until it seemed like he was the last person left in the world. He stroked himself leisurely, taking forbidden images out of their box and rubbing them over his brain -- Draco half-naked and flushed, those thin lips curved not in a sneer but to wrap around his prick. That rounded, pale arse offered for him to plunder, first with tongue, then aching cock.

Harry sped his strokes, smelling the lemon-bright soap and wondering if Malfoy had it, too, showering just a thin wall away; if Malfoy smelled of lemons, spice or something else, sweat and boy and musk. Harry tried to imagine his name, his real name, falling from lips gone red and slack with passion, and bit his lip to keep from calling Draco's instead. Sound travelled strangely between the two showers, and he wasn't quite willing to trust that the thick silence meant he was alone.

Harry spilled over his fingers with a shout of surprise as he heard, drifting through the walls in haze of steam and passion, a familiar voice crying, "Harry!"

Snape had barely set the wards on the room before Harry was on him, undoing just enough of his buttons to get his cock free before kneeling with a sharp thud that made Snape wince. "I love it when you get me in trouble," Harry murmured, the last word barely audible as Harry took Snape into his mouth.

"You accomplish that yourself, Mr. Potter," said Snape, in his most sarcastic drawl. "It is simply my lot in life to mete out your punishment."

Harry moaned around Snape's prick, the vibration making him gasp.

Giving Harry detention was its own reward.

School was over, the war was over, and Neville was still just the other boy, the one who had not, in fact, been in the prophecy. He'd been allowed into the Order despite whispered doubts about his abilities, and then they'd done the one good thing anyone had ever thought to do for him -- they partnered him with Professor Lupin. Who wasn't his professor anymore, and treated him like a human being in return for him doing the same favour.

Eventually, they traded a lot of favours, there in the dark of 12 Grimmauld Place. The lone good thing in the midst of war, for Neville at least.

But today, the war was over, they were packing up and shipping out, scattering the Order to the four winds and the future, and Neville hadn't yet had the guts to ask what was to become of him. Of them.

"I thought I might find you here," came the soft voice in his ear, and he turned, smiling, wrapped in the arms of the man who'd come to mean safety and home to him. A soft kiss soothed away his fears as Remus added, "Guess who they want to be teachers?"

Intoxicating

After 12 years trapped behind walls with nothing like a happy thought left to him, just being able to admire something beautiful and not have it ripped away... Well, it was quite intoxicating. Sirius felt drunk and giddy with freedom. The burning desire to clear his name and guarantee this feeling forever was, he thought, a bit like addiction. He wanted to make sure Harry was safe, yes, but more than that, more than anything, he needed to know that these feelings and memories would be, once again, his own.

He wanted to wallow in his human mind and the sharp, painful beauty of his first sunrise in over a decade, but he knew it wasn't safe. Morphing into Padfoot once again, he loped along the ground, starving and trembling slightly, but reveling in the simply liberty of stretching his legs and just running. He traded a world drenched in colour for one full of scent; not the dull, rotten smell of the Dementors, but grass and trees and other animals, and of course people. Healthy, happy people.

Sirius wasn't sure where to go first. He had to get to Hogwarts, to Peter and his future freedom, to Harry, whom he'd neglected for far too long. Except Harry wasn't at Hogwarts now, was he? The thick summer air told him it was too early, too soon, and he wondered just where, exactly, Privet Drive was in relation to where he was now. He couldn't actually speak to Harry, but he could be one more pair of eyes watching over the boy. His godson.

It was decided, and even that simple act of making a choice felt heady like too much wine.

All of the works contained herein are labours of love, unauthorized by those who hold the rights to such things, and no profit is made from them. No harm is meant, and hopefully no offense given.