Time seemed to cease altogether as Artemis slept protectively in Harry’s embrace. He could feel himself being lightened and then carried in Harry’s arms, for far too long, before he was then placed on a bed. Although he was sleeping, he was aware of Harry carefully undressing him and then drying his naked body before clothing him in his pajamas.
“I love you,” Harry murmured against his lips as he gifted his sleeping mouth with a soft kiss, and then he was being held again, fingers running through his drying hair and he slept, undreaming, until hours upon hours later, his eyes fluttered open to the sight of his beautiful twin flame.
“How long?” he murmured, unintentionally parodying his question earlier, and Harry smiled down at him.
“Twenty hours or so,” he responded quietly. “You needed your rest.”
Artemis nodded and let his eyes shut again, snuggling closer against Harry before he allowed dreams to take him.
He was walking along a busy street, witches and wizards around him, dressed in cloaks and strange pointed hats that he realized must be the current fashion of magical England. Many turned to take in his pristine, Muggle-influenced appearance, and Artemis realized that something must have changed in his visions if others could see him.
Glancing down at himself, he saw that he was wearing a dark blue summer suit, the same purple tie that he had lost in the bottom of the Black Lake tied crisply around his neck. Although the English sun was beating down on his head, he barely felt it, and instead found himself looking into the store windows, glancing at racing brooms and potions ingredients.
There must be a reason why he was present, so he soon turned his eyes back to the passersby, searching for his twin flame amongst the unfamiliar faces. As he continued to wend his way down the street, the sight of a café came into view and he smiled when he saw a young Harry, perhaps thirteen, sitting at one of the tables with a sundae in front of him, a book propped up in front of him.
A smile flitted across Artemis’s usual stoic face, although in the past few months he’d found himself expressing—and, more importantly, feeling—more emotion than he had in his entire life.
Quietly, he walked behind the empty chair, and placed his hands on it, staring intently at his young love, memorizing the way his messy black hair shone gold, blue, and red in the summer sun, so fay, so beautiful. The scar marred his forehead, angry, new, fresh, painful. A cool wind swept down the alley and Harry scratched his scar nervously before glancing up, his eyes widening comically when he saw Artemis standing there, a small loving smile on his face.
“You,” Harry breathed before he quickly stood, a blush on his face.
Artemis tried not to grin at the obvious display that betrayed that already Harry fancied him.
“Thank you,” Artemis murmured and he pulled the chair out, settling himself in it. “You look well, Harry.” His eyes lingered on Harry’s blushing face before he looked away again. “How are you this fine—summer?”
“Fine,” Harry said hastily, too hastily. “Now that you’re here.”
Artemis smiled and nodded. “Summer 1993?” he questioned, looking about him. A camera flashed somewhere near them and he looked back at Harry who was now speaking to him happily, oblivious to the paparazzi.
“Yes. I’m thirteen soon,” he whispered. “I’m staying in Diagon Alley for the summer—I blew up my aunt.”
Artemis’s eyes widened.
“She’s fine. The Ministry set her to rights and now I get to stay here.” He waved a hand toward the alley to indicate what he was talking about.
“I’m glad,” Artemis whispered. “You don’t deserve to be locked in that horrible cupboard.”
Harry’s eyes widened. “How did you—?” he murmured, his large green eyes only partially obscured by the horrible glasses he was wearing.
Artemis gazed lovingly at him. “You sang to me once, when you were a child. You—You thought I was your father. I’m sorry I wasn’t.”
Their eyes met and held for several long minutes before Harry glanced away. “I thought—I thought that was a dream. I hadn’t eaten in days,” he confessed quietly.
Artemis had to repress his desire to go to wherever these people were and murder them personally. “Well. You only have to go back there once more and, well, we’ll see each other a few more times before we finally meet.” He reached out and tangled their fingers together. “I meant it. I love you, Harry.” He willed for the small boy to believe him, but Harry was staring at their fingers in shock.
Afraid that he might have upset his twin flame, Artemis began to withdraw his fingers when Harry’s grip tightened. “Don’t. Please,” Harry begged, his green eyes flashing up to Artemis’s and he could see the tears there.
“I promise,” Artemis whispered, wishing he could stay with this younger Harry, hold him throughout the long year that still separated them from each other. “Your ice cream is melting,” he teased after a few moments, and Harry looked at his sundae in shock.
“I’ll purchase another one,” he whispered. “Mr. Fortescue has been spoiling me with so much free ice cream.”
Their eyes met again and Artemis stroked the back of Harry’s hand with his thumb, delighting at the shiver that ran up Harry’s arm. In only a few months, they would be riding the Hogwarts Express together and Harry would kiss him for the first time. He licked his lips at the thought of the innocent gesture.
“Do you have any cryptic messages for me?” Harry teased as he finally released Artemis’s hand and looked at the puddle of chocolate and vanilla.
“Yes, actually,” Artemis whispered. “Later when I see you I won’t know what I’m about to tell you, I only just found out.”
Confusion momentarily passed over Harry’s face, but then he nodded. “This isn’t happening in a straight line for you, is it? You’re going to different times in a random order?”
“Yes,” Artemis agreed. “I don’t know what pulls me to different moments. At first it was relatively linear, but then as I learned more I came where I needed to.”
“That’s a rather odd form of time travel,” Harry mused, and Artemis didn’t bother to correct him. He knew that Harry wouldn’t learn that it was fairy dust and dreams that caused them to meet for another year. He couldn’t release the revelation too soon. The entire conundrum gave him a mild headache.
“Sirius Black,” he murmured, and Harry looked up at him in shock. “He’s innocent of the charges—but he is not necessarily the safest man to be around.”
“What do you mean?”
Artemis sighed, unsure how to put this. “He’s attracted to other men—to boys on occasion.” His mind flashed to images of Regulus, beaten and broken, little more than a boy himself. “He won’t do anything to my knowledge, not when the world remains ignorant of his innocence. You are precious to him because of your father—they were best friends—but don’t be alone with him, not until I can be with you.”
Harry stared at him in confusion. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”
“Yes,” Artemis admitted. “However, it’s a confusing situation and not everything has happened yet. Know that—know that you are safe and I am watching out for you.”
“Boys?” Harry asked quietly.
“Never as young as you are,” Artemis assured him. “I just want you safe. It would be best if situations weren’t created for him to get emotionally attached to you.”
Harry swallowed. “I’ll be meeting him.”
Artemis closed his eyes painfully. “Yes, once at the end of the year. Never during the summer as far as I know and then—then you’ll be safe the next time as I’ll be with you.”
Harry bit his lip nervously and, hoping to distract him, Artemis called over a waiter and then ordered two more ice creams. They quickly arrived and Harry fumbled with money, but the man refused it and simply swiped up the ruined sundae. Artemis watched Harry warily as he saw him deep in thought, carefully eating his treat.
“Are you all right?” he murmured lovingly after sampling his own delicious sundae. He was rather surprised he was able to eat in this memory-dream-experience.
Harry shrugged. “Do you think,” he began quietly and then took a deep breath before starting again in a rush. “Doyouthinklovingboysiswrong?”
Artemis’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Do I think—“ he prodded.
“Do you think that loving boys is wrong?” Harry asked, his eyes bright with worry.
“No,” Artemis assured him hastily. “No, that would make me a hypocrite—I love you.”
Harry breathed out in relief and a small smile played on his ice cream colored lips. Artemis leaned forward and wiped them clean, his movements meticulous and yet lingering.
“I just think it’s wrong to force those feelings on someone who doesn’t want it. There’s a difference.”
“Well, you’re not forcing them on me,” Harry whispered quietly before his eyes shone with an impish light, the beginning of the idea to kiss him in a few months. Artemis had to stop himself from laughing at the possessive glint. His heart belonged completely to Harry already. He had nothing to worry about.
“I’m glad,” he murmured, his thumb still brushing against Harry’s plump lower lip. He forced himself to look away. “Tell me about your summer here in Diagon Alley.”
Harry leaned back against his chair and continued to eat his sundae happily. “I’ve been alone for most of the time—except for Hedwig. I saw the Weasleys briefly but hid behind a clothing rack at Madam Malkins’.”
“Yes. Ginny’s devotion to you is rather frightening.”
“Hmm,” Harry agreed around a spoonful of ice cream.
“What of Granger?”
“What about her?” Harry asked.
“You held her hand in the infirmary,” Artemis said quietly. “Did something change?”
Harry sighed. “She took Ron’s side in the argument over the diary. She seems to think that even though Ginny was acting of her own will, that it was all right as she was only trying to impress me,” he scoffed, “oh, and Dumbledore said it was all right, so he must be right because he’s the Headmaster and so great.”
“She appears to worship authority,” Artemis mused. Harry was sucking on his cherry, his lips beautiful and red. Artemis immediately plucked his own cherry off of his ice cream and placed it in Harry’s bowl.
“You don’t want it?” Harry asked him.
Artemis didn’t respond—his answer wasn’t appropriate for young and innocent pointed ears that he could just glimpse through Harry’s thick black, gold, blue, red hair. He wondered once again how no one noticed before him.
“Granger fancies you,” Artemis admitted after a moment, shocking Harry.
“No, she doesn’t.”
“She does,” Artemis countered. “She will have a fight about it with Ginny Weasley in a year and a half.”
Harry’s eyes widened at the blatant referral to so far in the future. “A year and a half?” His voice was high and breathless.
“Yes,” Artemis agreed. “You’ll be almost completely safe then.”
A few more flashes went off around them, but both ignored it and instead leaned toward one another, whispering and sharing secrets as they ate their ice cream. He felt soft lips pressed against his and Artemis looked at Harry in shock, who was still across the table from him. “I have to go,” he murmured, the feel of small fingers running through his hair, and he saw the sadness in Harry’s beautiful eyes. “I’ll see you at the station.”
He reached over and let his fingers trail across Harry’s cheek bone, marveling on how beautiful and wonderful his young love was, before he was on his feet, weaving his way through the crowd of brightly colored robes, not allowing himself to look back, afraid to see the tears in Harry’s green eyes.
Soft lips pressed against his and Artemis opened his mouth with a gentle moan, the scent of his twin flame erupting through his senses. He felt so loved as fingers ran through his hair and angled his face up so that Harry could gently plunder it. “Good morning, sleepy head,” Harry mumbled and Artemis laughed.
His eyes fluttered open and he saw Harry leaning over him, his phoenix-colored hair shining brilliantly. “Morning, beautiful,” he responded quietly, and leaned up to capture Harry’s soft lips once again.
“I love you,” Artemis whispered and Harry smiled down at him again before anger fluttered across his fay features.
“Never,” Harry commanded, “do that again. You could have drowned.”
“I didn’t,” Artemis countered, but that almost made Harry angrier.
“You’re mine—no one else’s. I don’t care if someone is going to die—I couldn’t—you’re all I have—I love you,” he said angrily before capturing Artemis’s lips in a brutal kiss. “Mine. Just mine,” he murmured and Artemis held him against his chest.
“Yours,” he promised. “My twin flame.”
“Then make it true,” Harry whispered brokenly, clutching to Artemis desperately. “Make it entirely true.”
Artemis stilled in Harry’s arms. “What are you saying?” he whispered.
For several quiet minutes, Harry didn’t speak. His fingers were splayed across Artemis’s chest and tangled in his hair, and he seemed to just be breathing in Artemis’s unique scent. “I know—I know that we can’t be bonded until I turn seventeen,” he murmured. “But we can be married in every other way.” He looked down into Artemis’s eyes desperately. “Please—now. Please, Artemis.”
“Now?” Artemis asked, his voice shaking despite himself.
Harry nodded. “Now. I made sure everything was taken care of,” he murmured before leaning down and kissing Artemis again. Artemis didn’t immediately lose himself in the kiss, instead focusing on his own body and realizing that his breath felt fresh and that his body wasn’t calling to him to use the rest room. He deepened the kiss.
Remembering that Harry could become pregnant, he reached out desperately hoping that he had somehow planned ahead and he might find condoms or that there were magically some already in the room, but Harry placed his hand over Artemis’s and shook his head.
“No,” he whispered before leaning down and kissing Artemis’s lips. “What will happen will happen.”
The memory of a beautiful little girl with pointed ears and Harry’s eyes flashed in Artemis’s mind and he sighed.
The kiss remained gentle for all of two moments before Artemis found his hands tangled in Harry’s hair, tugging at it desperately as he flipped Harry onto his back and leaned down over him. He never lost control, but with Harry it was a given. Lips on lips, tongues playing with each other wantonly as hands came up and tried to remove clothing.
Harry desperately pulled on Artemis’s shirt, trying to pull it over his head as Artemis’s fingers tore relentlessly at the tie of his pajama bottoms.
“Love you,” Harry moaned against his lips when they were only half undressed. Artemis’s lips had latched on Harry’s neck as his fingers were tearing at his shirt, revealing more of his tantalizingly tanned skin.
He thrust against Harry desperately, needing friction, needing skin, only to realize that he was still wearing his pajamas.
“Mine,” he whispered desperately as he once again claimed Harry’s mouth possessively, one hand pressed lovingly against his cheek while the other was undoing his pants that he quickly kicked off. “Mine, Harry. Forever.”
“I,” Harry gasped, arching into Artemis’s touch, his fingers seeking Artemis’s boxers and pulling the last of the clothing that separated them away, “begged for this, didn’t I?”
Artemis growled playfully at Harry’s teasing, pausing above him to take in his sprawled form.
Despite the fact that he was a genius and had the entire Oxford English Dictionary memorized, there was only one word that captured how Harry looked, laid out completely bare in front of him—breathtaking. His form was lithe, lightly muscled most likely from the Wizard sport Artemis knew he played, the calves well defined, and his cock, so perfect and already hard, nestled in red-black-gold curls.
“Beautiful,” he murmured in appreciation before he was once again lying on top of Harry, his weight distributed on an elbow and his knees. They both gasped as their cocks slid together, the friction absolutely exquisite.
Artemis had read so many books on the sexual act but until he met Harry, loved him, he never knew that it could be so arousing, so passionate, so addicting. He doubted that after tonight he would be able to keep his hands off of his beautiful lover, his husband in everything but law.
And he had every intention of beginning to bribe key members of parliament so the law would be changed in the Muggle world. He wasn’t one of the wealthiest people in the world for nothing. He wanted to marry Harry so that he was more his than he soon would be and, even if it took decades, he would see it completed.
Kissing a trail down Harry’s chest, he delighted in the way his soul mate squirmed beneath him, gasping and mewling as if he could never get enough. He played with his nipples for several minutes, tweaking one with his hand while he sucked gently on the other, his hands holding Harry to him, not certain if he could let go even if a gun were pointed to his head.
Harry mewled and wrapped his legs insistently around Artemis’s torso, trapping him there so he couldn’t move any lower.
Artemis could only smirk.
Carefully, Artemis reached out to the bedside table where he had fortunately stowed some hand lotion and, while still nipping at the pink nub in front of him, coated his long fingers, intent on preparing Harry as quickly as possible as his insistent erection was pressed painfully against the mattress.
He lifted himself as much as possible, creating just enough room for his hand to sneak between Harry’s legs, seeking Harry’s precious opening. “Tell me if I hurt you,” he whispered lovingly, pressing a gentle kiss in the middle of Harry’s rib cage before returning his attention to his nipples. Carefully, he circled the hole, feeling exactly where it was, and delighted in the gasp that came from Harry.
Harry tugged at his hair, loosening his legs slightly so that Artemis was sliding up his body, his hand’s quest momentarily forgotten as his mouth was claimed with soft, wanting, lips. He let Harry guide the kiss, delighting in the smoothness of Harry’s small tongue as it mapped out his mouth and then gently battled with his tongue as he continued to mewl. As Harry was distracted, he began to slowly insert one finger into him and paused when Harry tensed briefly, before giving himself into the kiss again.
“Artemis,” he breathed, sucking on Artemis’s lower lip, making the older boy moan wantonly as he continued to slide in his finger until it was fully seated in his little mate.
“All right?” he questioned, thrusting his hips against the mattress to try and relieve some of the intense pressure. His deep blue eyes sought Harry’s and he stared at the beautiful flushed face, the messed up hair falling across his smooth forehead and staining the pillow beneath them a glorious unearthly red. Harry keened in answer, pushing himself against the finger, and Artemis laughed, slowly pulling the finger out before thrusting gently back in.
Soon Harry was pushing down on two of Artemis’s long fingers, gasping as Artemis found the small nub inside him that would bring him pleasure. “Harry,” Artemis breathed worshipfully as he once again claimed Harry’s sweet lips, his fingers scissoring inside him so as to properly prepare him.
“No-No more,” Harry moaned deliciously, causing Artemis to harden even more than he thought possible. It was almost painful to breathe now. “Y-You. I want you.”
His shining green eyes gazed lustfully up at Artemis who nodded.
Carefully, he removed his fingers. He paused, taking in the situation. “It might be more comfortable for you if you lie on your stomach.” Artemis didn’t add that it was recommended by all thirty-two books he’d read to prepare for this moment.
Harry shook his head vehemently, his long hair framing his face perfectly. “No. I want to see you.”
“Are you quite certain?” Artemis asked breathlessly.
Harry stared back at Artemis, which was all the answer he really needed.
Taking one final breath to calm his unending arousal, Artemis lubed his aching cock and carefully positioned himself at Harry’s entrance. He didn’t want to hurt his precious Harry, wanted nothing to hurt him again.
“Just do it,” Harry murmured reassuringly, wrapping his arms around Artemis’s shoulder. “I want this. I need you, need to know you’re here and that I’m never going to lose you.”
Artemis nodded and, kissing Harry deeply to distract him, began to carefully push in. He paused at the pained look on Harry’s face until slowly moving again, trying not to lose himself at the feel of the incredible heat of Harry’s passage. He’d known pleasure before, but nothing could describe the euphoria of finally being seated within his soul mate and seeing his face smooth out into contentment before carefully moving again, every motion reverent and full of the love he still found difficult to articulate as, before Harry, the emotion had been a stranger to him.
He knew he had hit the nub again when Harry arched suddenly against him, breaking their kiss, and gasping wildly for air. “Again,” he begged, and Artemis continued his gentle rocking motions, making sure to bring Harry as much pleasure as possible.
When he could feel his own release approaching, he snaked a hand between them, and took Harry’s weeping member in his hand, stroking it in time with his small thrusts and smiled against Harry’s neck as his twin flame moaned at the sensations Artemis was bringing him.
Harry reached his climax first, calling out Artemis’s name as he shook with pleasure, and Artemis held him close just as he tipped over the edge, the tightening of Harry around him being too perfect to bear. He could feel himself filling his mate, marking him, claiming him, and the academic part of his mind, even in the haze of white-shining pleasure, wondered if Harry would in fact carry a child, if they might be able to create life, if within nine months another Fowl would enter the world.
As Harry’s shivering quieted, Artemis ran his hands lightly up Harry’s side, soothing him as he gently kissed his lips. “Happy St. Valentine’s Day,” he teased and Harry chuckled.
“You’re a bit late.”
“Better late than never.”
“True,” he concurred.
He took Harry in his arms and spooned behind him after gently pulling out, delighting in the shudders that encased Harry’s body at the small action.
“I’m sticky,” Harry murmured a moment later and Artemis laughed lightly.
“I apologize,” he whispered against Harry’s neck before getting up and carefully going to the lavatory that was part of the Hogwarts guest suite. He looked at himself in the mirror as he ran a washcloth under warm water. Artemis hadn’t bothered to put on clothing, not wanting anything to separate him from Harry, and he tried to look at himself objectively, to see himself as Harry saw him.
He had aristocratic features, high cheekbones, an aquiline nose and sensual lips. His skin was so pale it almost shone in the light and his dark hair was cut conservatively around his face. He’d heard people call him handsome, beautiful even, but none of that mattered—only what his Harry thought.
Realizing he had spent far too much time away from Harry, he quickly made his way back to the master bedroom and sighed when he saw that Harry had already fallen asleep after their love making. He crawled onto the bed and carefully cleaned his beautiful love, secretly delighting in the gasps and sighs that passed Harry’s kissable lips, before tossing the cloth aside. He pulled Harry’s sleeping form against him and, placing a gentle kiss against the side of his neck, allowed sleep to finally claim him.
His dreams were only of Harry and his perfect kisses and sweet sighs.