Original Chapter by Bittersweet Alias
without faults: without errors, flaws, or faultsPerfect
Christmas was coming and it was coming fast, Harry’s life was a strange one. Without Ron and Hermione over his shoulder he found that his friendships with other people and their houses rising. Even the Slytherins were a little better toward him than before. Draco was often seen nodding toward him and Adrian Pucey would stare at him until he left the room or until Micah slapped him over the head.
Luna was sitting with him at lunch with Neville was on his other side. He was contemplating in his head where he was going to go for Christmas. He had yet to talk to Tom about this and would have to consult Severus soon. He felt as though he were being watched by someone other than Micah. Harry knew Micah’s stares quite well now. Shifting his gaze, he locked in on Professor Dumbledore and resisted the urge to flinch, glare, or do something really Muggle-like and flip him off.
Harry frowned at him before turning away and catching Micah’s golden eyes. The anger that had flashed through from Dumbledore’s staring had dissolved. Micah caught it and even caught Dumbledore looking intently at Harry.
Micah wondered just what was going on between the two.
“Dumbledore has been watching me like a hawk,” Harry voiced, sinking down into the teacher’s chair and peering over at Severus, who was sitting on a work stool with a huge cauldron of Wolfsbane Potion in front of him.
The man’s dark eyes narrowed. “I’m aware. He’s asked that ridiculous pink haired bitch to keep an eye on you, as well.”
“Yeah, she can’t exactly hide, in or out of Metamorphmagus form. I know when I’m being watched, I’ve dealt with it for what, five years now?”
“The Dark Lord requires your presence this Christmas.”
Harry grinned. “Yay! About time I get out of this hell hole.” Sighing, the teen shook his head. “It’s a pity, you know. I used to love this place.”
“So did I, and people like Dumbledore and Gryffindors ruined it.”
Harry’s smile turned upside down. “Yeah.” He knew very well how James Potter treated Severus Snape and it was sickening. “Merlin, I can’t wait till this charade is over with!”
“Do you have any plans for your former friends?”
Harry grinned. “I have quite the plans,” he said slyly. “Tom said if I could get away with it, I could do what I like – now.”
Severus arched an eyebrow. “Are you?” He couldn’t help but be interested in this. Dumbledore’s pets. Dead? What better.
“I’m thinking about it. But I am definitely going to start off with Weasley. I’m going to make them all suffer,” Harry said with a glint in his eye.
Severus had no doubt in his mind that Harry would. After everything he had been through. Severus smirked. “I await your surprise then.”
Harry giggled. “Yeah…” Even his own eyes glazed over at the idea of them being tortured into oblivion.
The night before Harry was about to leave Hogwarts, he had spent it in the dungeons with Severus going through some coding that was an important part of the Department of Mysteries. There was a lot of things to get done this holiday and it had nothing to do with Christmas.
However, the annoying part was Tonks who had caught him coming back from ‘outside.’
“Harry!” She chirped bounding over to him.
Harry clenched his hands into fists at his side as he shifted and gazed at the small cheery Auror, who was pretending to be innocent.
“Hello, Tonks,” he said neutrally.
“How are you? I was looking all over the castle for you!”
“I was outside, doing my own thing. What do you need?”
She beamed. “Oh nothing, just wanted to see my favourite Gryffindor!”
How fucking lame! Harry thought with disgust. He resisted the sigh and also resisted sending his clenched fists up and decking her in the nose. Instead, he plastered on a fake smile. “I preferred to be on my own for a while. I like it that way.”
“Oh.” She gave him a look of disappointment, yeah, like that affected him at all. “Well, have you heard from Sirius or Remus?” She enunciated Remus’ name and it sent Harry’s anger boiling, again. Merlin! How did he not catch on fire for this?
“They’re probably together and, yes, I’ve spoken to them. I will be with seeing Rem and Siri for Christmas.”
She blinked. “Oh, did Dumbledore say you could?”
“He’s not my guardian, Tonks,” Harry said swiftly.
“But, if it’s not safe, Harry, you really shouldn’t chance it! Dumbledore knows best.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, let’s agree to disagree, shall we?” Harry asked. “I don’t want to talk about Dumbledore, or I’ll walk away from you.”
She goggled at him. “Wh- what’s wrong?”
Harry ignored her vague question and instead said, “I don’t wish to have an old man conducting my life until I die. Thanks, but no thanks. I am spending my holiday with Rem and Siri and that’s all there is to it. Good night, Tonks.” They were at the prefect’s common room now; he turned ignoring her gaping expression for what had to be the thousandth time and entered the common room, shutting it strategically on her face.
Hmph! Serves the bitch right. Perhaps, he’d kill her before Ron? Surely, no one would miss her.
But, of course, things couldn’t be easier. Just when he’d gotten rid of one pest, he had to turn around and see another.
Scratch that-two others.
Hermione had her head bent down low, her teeth tugging on her lower lip, and a piece of her godawful bushy hair twirled around one of her fingers. She was pointedly not looking at him, but unfortunately the same could not be said about her companion.
“Harry!” an overexcited and blushing Ginny Weasley called out to him from her seat on the common room couch.
Who thought it would be a good idea to let her in?
“Ginny,” he responded warily, wishing to be anywhere but here at the moment.
Briefly he contemplated whether bubblegum pink or flaming orange hair was less attractive on a girl.
Oddly enough, he couldn’t decide.
With Ginny’s exclamation, almost everyone in the common area was now looking over at the three Gryffindors, including Micah, his golden eyes boring into the oblivious carrot-top.
“We haven’t seen much of you in Gryffindor Tower. Ron says he hasn’t talked to you forever,” she said by way of conversation.
Harry quickly glanced at Hermione and saw that she was pointedly looking at her lap. Interesting…
“No,” was the only thing he could think of to say.
“Don’t you want to come up to the Tower?”
He didn’t respond and he quickly looked for a way out of the conversation. The couch, however, was in between him and his room.
“Anyway,” Ginny continued, “I just broke up with Dean,” and Harry noticed, shocked, that she was actually batting her eyelashes.
Taking a deep breath, he tried to control his frustration.
“And I thought, well-“ Her cheeks were now clashing terribly with her hair.
“Ginny,” he said, voice strangled, wishing on his dark magic that she would not continue on that vein, especially with Micah in the room.
“You agree then?” she chirped. “There’s a Hogsmeade weekend coming up after break, and-“
“Ginny!” he cut her off and the temperature of the room plummeted so noticeably that even Hermione looked up from the homework she was not doing. “Your three brothers didn’t succeed in seducing me, and trust me, you won’t either.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he wanted to crumble into the carpet and die. Or cast an Unforgivable.
Hermione’s eyes had gone wide and he noticed with a quick glance toward Micah that the Head Boy’s expression was lethal.
“My brothers? Is that why you’re not talking to Ron?”
A strangled sound made its way out of Hermione’s throat.
“No. Never mind. And no to Hogsmeade-and a resounding no to that marriage contract Dumbledore wanted,” he added, just having to throw in all of the negatives he possibly could. He couldn’t take it. Dumbledore with Tonks and now Ginny was just too much. He just wanted out of this horrible falseness, all of these lies-he just wanted to breathe and revel in the tendrils of his magic that he could sometimes feel pulse under his skin.
Without another word, he bypassed the couch and went for much needed privacy.
Once inside his bedroom, he threw the balls of dim light into the hanging lamps and went for some comfortable clothes. He needed a good hot bath after crawling around on the dungeon floors. He felt ick. He kept the door cracked and placed his folded clothes on the counter. The hot tub was nice and inviting, a lot like the Prefect’s Bathtub only smaller. It was aqua velvet blue with jets and a flurry of soaps and shampoo dispensers in crystal vials along the tub.
Reaching over to turn on the taps, he flinched at the strain of muscles that pulled against him. Ow, Severus really worked him over tonight. Quickly, he pulled at his clothes stripping them down and then slipping into the steaming hot bubbly water. He gasped as his toes and feet burned red. He slipped all the way down letting shivers crawl up his spine. It was so hot but exactly what he needed.
He pulled the tie out of his hair and leaned back against the tub with his legs stretched out in front of him. His body was surrounded by white and blue foam. His hair cascading down inside of the steaming water. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to fall into relaxation.
This was how Micah found him and smirked as he peered between the sheets of fog to the prey on his mind, an almost inhuman possessiveness coursing through his veins. Harry’s words still echoed in his mind. The little Weasel had had the gall to try and take what was his, what belonged to him and only to him for as long as he wanted him, which he somehow knew in the back of his mind was forever.
Micah could feel Harry’s tenseness as he fled from the Common Room, the speculative glances of the other prefects on his back, and knew that part of Harry needed him, needed an escape from something Micah didn’t fully understand.
The Slytherin stepped through the scalding bathroom and made his way over. The scent of fragrant soap assaulted Micah’s senses. He stood over the large tub and peered down at all the white foam that obstructed even Micah’s perfect sight. However it wasn’t the covered body that stole his attention, but the beautiful soft serene face that was up above the foaming suds.
“I know you are there,” Harry hummed as Micah smirked and knelt down on his knees. “I left the door cracked, knowing you would be here.”
Micah scowled at that. “What if someone else-even that little Weasel-had come through?”
“I would have known had it been anyone else walking through my bedroom door,” Harry said, sticking his tongue out playfully. “Had there been a chance of anyone else they would have gotten a rather painful electric shock back out the door.”
“I’m touched you allow me.”
Harry laughed. “Don’t act so surprised, go on and act smug, I know you wanna.”
“I am smug.”
Harry raised his foaming hand and flicked the bubbles at Micah, while cracking a dark green eye open. Micah wrinkled his nose and caught Harry’s delicate wrist with his hand. Both eyes opened as Micah tugged Harry out of his relaxed position and made him sit up, his chest now exposed, blistering red from the heat of the water.
Micah leaned in and poured kisses into Harry’s delicious mouth. A desperate hum emitted from Harry as he leaned in closer to Micah’s dry and clothed body. Something inside of Harry snapped and an inward need developed; such a strong escalating desire drove him closer. His body shuddered through the heat of the water and steam. Micah let go of Harry’s wrists and circled around his wet body and tugged on the ends of his soaked hair.
Micah felt Harry’s want and need, felt the silent plea and he gave in, giving him exactly what his body was craving.
Micah nibbled the bottom of Harry’s lip and kissed his chin delicately. “I’m going to take you tonight,” the Slytherin hissed without warning.
Harry shuddered with pleasure and fear and nuzzled Micah’s chin. He pressed his mouth openly to the side of Micah’s chin and cheek. “Don’t hurt me,” Harry whispered.
Gripping Harry around the back of the neck, Micah pulled him back so that they were only inches away from each other’s face and the Slytherin could look into those dark green eyes. “I swear to you, I won’t hurt you.”
Shivering, Harry nodded and handed himself over to Micah’s hands. He wasn’t sure if it was the best idea. He knew that this was perhaps a mistake, but his body was in chaos. The heat that generated from his desire caused him to want to beg without shame but the human in Harry refused to do that, and instead he gave Micah a drunkenly lethal kiss.
With a swift movement, Micah was off his knees and Harry was taken directly from the scalding bath, covered in suds, bubbles, and hot water. He soaked Micah’s clothes through and through.
Micah smirked. “Perfect,” he purred, ignoring the heat going through his robes as he summoned a towel to wrap around Harry’s small body.
Harry was gently placed on the large down feather bed, his body swallowed in the white fluffy towel and his green eyes were alight with pleasure and a sheer bit of worry that Micah was going to wipe away. Micah’s wet shirt went off immediately, wand aside he slipped onto the bed as Harry unwrapped the towel from his thin body and, Merlin, was it beautiful to Micah. Despite the hot water having turned his skin a cherry red the colour was receding and a glowing beautiful ivory had settled in. He was smooth and gentle, flawless, with lean muscles that gave him a quiet and understated strength. He was perfect in Micah’s opinion. His hand ran up and down Harry’s sweet thighs. “Relax.”
Harry reached out and pulled him closer until Micah was nestled on top. “Kiss me.”
Micah smirked and obliged, kissing him deeply. Both sets of hands went everywhere. Harry couldn’t hold his blush as he moaned out at the caress against his inner thighs. Micah’s mouth traced his cheek, ear, and neck. “You taste absolutely delicious,” he hissed against Harry who moaned again, he pressed his hands flat against Micah’s bare chest and dragged them down enjoying the sensation underneath them. “Really, truly…” Micah slid his mouth down, nipping and licking, forcing desperate whimpers and purrs to come from Harry as he slowly spread his legs around Micah’s body.
Micah smirked and lapped into his belly button, getting a lurch and a shiver. “You taste so fucking sweet…” His tongue slid down and began to caress the sensitive hip bone. Harry was smoother than Micah could imagine. There was absolutely no hair anywhere. Not on his legs, underarms-not anywhere. It was smooth and perfect. Harry’s moans and shameless whimpering were like wondrous music to Micah as he went down on Harry’s cock, something he’d dreamt of doing and waking up in sweat for weeks and months. Perfect, perfect, perfect! Nothing could be anymore perfect.
Harry had been touched before, but never like this. It was like a radiating fire he’d never experienced flustering deep inside of him. He moaned, his hips rising up off the bed and that was when Micah expertly flipped him, hands running up and down his inner thighs to the folds of his backside.
Harry was exposed, everything was there for Micah to see and the wolf like Slytherin didn’t hesitate. A few well spoken curses cleaned Harry from inside out.
Micah slipped his fingers up between Harry’s cheeks into the smooth layers and grinned as Harry whimpered and shuddered. Micah marveled at the sweet skin, the gentle curving dip in Harry’s lower back. He began to kiss Harry’s shoulder and ran his tongue down the boy’s spine, his eyes never wavering from the side of Harry’s face.
Micah plunged his face into Harry’s backside, cheeks spreading, and tongue probing until he got a pleasant scream from Harry.
Harry’s desire rose and he reflexively pushed his arse up into Micah’s face just the way the Slytherin had dreamed of.
This had never been done to Harry before. He’d never let anyone THIS close. He moaned and buried himself into the nearest pillow, Micah’s tongue circled his entrance, assaulting him intensely. He clenched the sheets, bringing his hands down to curl under his chest. The bliss seemed to never end. Micah’s mouth lapped eagerly before flipping him back over onto his back, nipping and licking along the way.
Harry tugged Micah down on top of him, their cocks clashing together. Micah’s eyes were fiery hot and he plunged his tongue into those beautiful red lips that were begging for him. Harry’s fingers grazed down Micah’s chest to the belt of his trousers and tugged effortlessly onto them until the belt slipped out of its clasp. Harry’s small hand pushed them down and curled around his swollen length of the erection.
Harry squeezed him teasingly, which caused a growl from Micah as he kicked his trousers and boxers off completely and were both naked on top of one another.
Micah slipped down out of Harry’s grasp and nestled between Harry’s legs. He conjured a vial of lubricant and slowly poured it out onto his hands and fingers. “Relax,” Micah said, watching Harry as his muscles went lax. “I told you once and I will tell you again, I will not hurt you, Hadrian.”
Harry’s heart pounded and he knew Micah was sincere. He brought his hips up and Micah took that as a sign and slipped his hands down toward Harry’s smooth and slightly wet entrance from Micah’s mouth and tongue.
He watched with pure bliss as Harry began to moan, his eyes wide at the sensation of penetrating fingers. He lay there, feeling the brief flicker of discomfort to the shocks of pleasure, Micah’s fingers expertly worked their way inside of his slim body.
In the back of Micah’s mind, he was just a bit worried about hurting Harry. He was so tight, so virginal. Micah hadn’t really believed that Harry was a virgin no matter how much he was denied, but now feeling the boy’s body, seeing the brief flicker of fear and uncertainty and now touching for himself-it was all confirmed. Micah vowed not to hurt Harry and he meant it.
He could never hurt Harry, could never harm what was undeniably his.
Although, he hoped he could resist the wolf instinct to slam inside, because fuck, Harry’s body was calling out to him.
He slipped in up to three fingers, but he knew it wouldn’t be enough, he worked Harry until the boy was bouncing on his fingers and clenching his arms.
“I – I can take you now…” Harry moaned desperately.
Micah observed his little mate lying underneath him. There was no smug expression or anything that taunted him. The raven haired boy was simply too stunning. “I told you I wouldn’t hurt you,” he reminded huskily.
“That’s inevitable,” Harry cried softly. “I’ve never done this.” He shivered at the constant sensations to the bundle of nerves inside of him.
“I’m aware,” Micah came down and kissed him, fingers still working his entrance, attempting to stretch it just a little more.
“H- hurting me is not the first contact,” Harry heaved out. “Hurting me is blindly making me hurt with intent.”
Micah scowled and bit down on Harry’s lip, but he understood. Harry’s fear was a blatant all out rape and Micah was not about that.
The initial contact was a shock to Harry’s system, but he didn’t scream, although he wanted to. He didn’t want Micah to stop, no matter what. It was painful at first, the three fingers had been about all he could take. He breathed sharply as Micah flinched at the tightening ring of skin around his cock. His eyes watered but he didn’t relent even when Micah stopped holding his cock inside of Harry so that he could get used to it.
It didn’t take long before Micah started to truly hit the nerves that three fingers just barely brushed across. Harry arched forward gripping a hold of Micah and burying his face into the Slytherin’s neck as he was slapped into with the force he wound up pleading shamelessly for.
Harry didn’t come once, twice, or even three times. He came a total of four times, each one as intense as the previous and Micah couldn’t stop the come that leaked out and into Harry’s arse on two different occasions; with Harry’s screams and soft sweaty body underneath him, Micah had never felt sex so extreme, so amazing. He’d been with a whole lot of guys. But, Merlin, nothing compared to this. He didn’t understand what was so different. Why it was different. It was a whole new level that he’d never ventured into. No sex that he could remember had ever remotely been this intense.
Micah collapsed chest first onto Harry’s chest, they were cheek to cheek, breathing harsh and raggedly. Harry was clutching him tightly, and Micah simply lay there as his body went limp.
Micah used Harry’s wand to clean them up, and the Slytherin shifted on his side so that he didn’t crush Harry and pulled the boy closer on instinct. Harry curled in on Micah’s side and slipped his right knee between Micah’s legs to rest it on his inner thigh.
“You should bathe me now,” Harry murmured sleepily.
Micah snorted. “Right.”
“Well, I wasn’t in the bath for ten minutes!”
“You didn’t want to be.”
Harry huffed. “Perhaps.”
Micah reached over and tugged a lock of Harry’s hair. “Why?”
Harry bit his lower lip. “I wanted to?”
“That’s not good enough,” Micah said brushing his tips across the boy’s cheek.
“I wanted you.”
Micah was shocked. “Why?”
Harry smiled. “Good night, Romeo.”
Micah scowled, but didn’t pester Harry anymore. If he wanted to keep his why for now that was fine. “Good night, Hadrian.”
For some reason, Micah had no desire to move and instead shifted until his arms were fully around Harry and their breaths were puffing against each other’s skin. That was how the fell asleep.