
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/943160.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Harry_Potter/Charlie_Weasley, Cedric_Diggory/Harry_Potter, Harry_Potter/
      Oliver_Wood
  Character:
      Harry_Potter, Hermione_Granger, Ron_Weasley, Cedric_Diggory, Charlie
      Weasley, Victoire_Weasley, Arthur_Weasley, Bill_Weasley, Fleur_Delacour,
      Molly_Weasley, Rose_Weasley, George_Weasley, Angelina_Johnson, Fred
      Weasley_II, Roxanne_Weasley, Andromeda_Black_Tonks, Teddy_Lupin, Ginny
      Weasley, James_Sirius_Potter, Albus_Severus_Potter, Lily_Luna_Potter,
      Hugo_Weasley, Original_Male_Character(s), Oliver_Wood, Kingsley
      Shacklebolt, Death_Eater(s), Original_Female_Character(s)
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Future, Alternate_Universe_-_America, Original
      Slash, Explicit_Sexual_Content, Bathroom_Sex, Shower_Sex, Honeymoon, Sex
      in_Italy, Non-Graphic_Violence
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-08-26 Chapters: 16/16 Words: 34393
****** Harry Potter and the Legacy of Thirty-Six ******
by lyo24boi
Summary
     Ten years to the day after the end of the Second Wizarding War, Harry
     is living a life some may have predicted, some may have not. Having
     just had his third child 'with' Ginny Weasley and being promoted as
     the youngest Director of the Auror Office the year before, Harry
     Potter is living out his more relaxed and enjoyable life in the
     rebuilt and refurbished home of his parent's.
***** The Witching Hour, Part One *****
May 2, 2008; London
"You are listening to WWN, Wizarding Wireless Network from London. It is
Friday, May 2, and the weather forecast is continued storms and heavy rain and
winds. The time is 8:00 and now we turn to our featured program." A clicking
sound, like that of a record player turning a vinyl over, came through every
broadcasting speaker just after the standard announcer finished with the date,
weather, and time.
"Good morning, listeners. I'm Glenda Chittock, and you're listening to the
Witching Hour. This is WWN: Wizarding Wireless Network. On today's broadcast,
we celebrate the end of the Second Wizarding War and remember those that fell
in defense of our very way of life. And to commemorate the holiday, we have
three very special guests for you. First, Assistant Director for the renamed
Office of House-Elf Affairs of the Beast Division of the Department for the
Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Hermione Weasley. Second,
Assistant Director for the Death Eater Division of the Auror Office Ronald
Weasley, responsible for the capture of the Lestrange brothers. And finally,
recently appointed Director of the Auror Office, or as we all know him, 'The
Boy Who Lived,' Harry Potter. Welcome, the three of you."
"Thank you for having us," Hermione said with a smile.
"Yes, thanks for having us, Glenda," Harry replied, Ron nodding, gesturing his
agreement.
"First, Mrs. Weasley—"
"Hermione, please. Mrs. Weasley will always be my mother-in-law," she said with
another smile.
"Of course. Hermione, I was hoping you'd tell us a bit about your background
and how you found your way into the core of the fight against the Dark Lord."
"Wow," she began, "Well, both of my parents are Muggles. And like every
Hogwarts student, I received my invitation when I was eleven. I first met Ron
and Harry on the Hogwarts Express and," she paused and blushed, "well I was a
bit prudish back then."
Ron burst with a small laugh, doing his best to contain it as Harry turned away
and smirked.
Rolling her eyes, she continued. "We certainly weren't instant friends, not
like these two. I only really became friends with these two when they saved me
from a mountain troll that the Death Eater, Quirinus Quirrell let in.
Ultimately, Ron here knocked it out with its own club. Ever since, the three of
us have been stuck with each other," Hermione finished, winking at the two men.
"It was also when she took her first step against the world," Ron said with a
loving smile. "She lied to Professor McGonagall to keep us from getting into
trouble."
Glenda smiled. "So Mr. Weasley—"
"Ron," he said with the same polite and modest tone Hermione had taken.
"Ron," she continued, giving him a knowing smile, "tell us about how the war
affected your family; I understand it took quite a toll."
Ron's eyes bulged for a second and Hermione took his hand. He took a deep
breath and began. "By the time the war began, my family was already part of the
Order of the Phoenix—my parents were in the original, too. My mother's
considered Harry her son for a long-time and my parents always had a fine-tuned
moral compass. I suppose we would have rallied behind him, or at least with his
cause even if we had never met him. In our fifth year at Hogwarts, Harry had a
nightmare of Voldemort's snake attacking my father. It turned out the nightmare
was actually an insight into the Dark Lord's mind, and that my father had
actually been attacked. Thankfully, we were able to get to him in time." Ron
looked at Harry and the two exchanged a silent rehashing of Ron thanking
Harry—it was one of the few moments that Ron felt he actually owed Harry. "In
our sixth year, the Death Eaters broke into the school and my oldest brother,
Bill, was maimed by Fenrir Grayback; thankfully he never turned into a full
werewolf. At the end of the summer before our would-be seventh year, the Order
decided to escort Harry to my family's home. The effort was led by the late
Mad-Eye Moody and in the process my brother George lost his left ear. And
probably the hardest loss was Fred; he died during the last battle fighting
alongside one of my other brothers. Percy." Ron, though his entire explanation,
was looking at the floor, particularly a black spot that slightly lumped up
from the emerald floor. Hermione leaned over and kissed his cheek before they
both turned their gaze back to Glenda.
Glenda turned to Harry, her most anticipated guest. "Harry?" she began, her
eyebrow raised and a smirk across her face.
He nodded and returned her smile.
"Harry, something you discussed in your book was your relationship to the
Weasley family. Would you elaborate on that?"
Harry nodded and leaned toward the microphone. "It's funny, actually, because
when I first found myself at King's Cross for my first year, it was the
Weasley's that helped me through to the platform. I suppose that was the
defining moment of fate. Ever since then, I've been entangled with them and
even before my official entrance into the family, I'd always considered them as
such. It seems like Ron has been the brother I've never had and Molly, well
she's like my second mother."
"And how about your relationship to Sirius Black?"
Harry sombered slightly. "Sirius…well Sirius, as you know, was my godfather. I
met him at the end of my third year and ever since I loved him like a father.
One of the biggest criticisms I've gotten from my book has been about Sirius:
people still don't understand or accept that he is innocent." Harry looked at
his hand and then back up at Glenda to add. "Even despite the Ministry
officially clearing his name."
"On that note, we'll take a short break and return on a lighter note. With your
Ministry duties, you never made a book tour so many of our viewers are eager to
hear more about it and some of the interesting details we never knew before. So
when we come back, we'll discuss Harry Potter and Hermione Weasley's co-
authored book, The Boy Who Lived: A Memoir."
***** The Witching Hour, Part Two *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
"…So when we come back, we'll discuss Harry Potter and Hermione Weasley's co-
authored book, The Boy Who Lived: A Memoir."
"You just heard a piece of Callum Costello's Symphony No. 4 in C minor, a part
of his upcoming concert in London: One-Man Symphony, the Magic of Callum
Costello. See it live on May 16th through the 18th at the Jeremy Fisher Opera
House. Now, we return to our regular program."
"Welcome back to the Witching Hour. I'm Glenda Chittock and I'm here with three
very distinguished guests: Mr. and Mrs. Ron and Hermione Weasley, and the
infamous Harry Potter. If I may, I'd like to start with how it came to be that
Ms. Weasley here came to be your co-author, especially since memoirs are
usually written by one person."
"Well Hermione has always had a fascination for books. In our first year, she
told us—err everyone—that she had already read all her textbooks before the
start of term. Plus, she was the one who instigated the Harry Potterseries in
the Muggle world. So I asked Hermione if she'd write this with me so I could
finally be done with the harping questions about the war. And with the
completion of the Harry Potter series, I felt I needed to clarify some
things—reveal some truths to our world. I should add, too, I'm a rubbish
writer, whereas Hermione's always had the thesis-like essays for classes. And
now, Merlin, you should see her legal briefs for the Ministry."
Hermione gave a slight giggle and Glenda turned to her. "Hermione, do tell us
about your reasons for inspiring the Muggle series. And what the Ministry says
about all this."
"I met Joanne Rowling in the summer before our sixth year at Hogwarts. She was
a struggling author so I gave her a 'story.' She made the Unbreakable Vow with
me that she would never reveal this as truth and would disguise it as fiction.
And she did, although I suppose I knew I didn't have to make the vow with
her—my studies of arithmancy predicted that Rowling would likely have kept her
word regardless. After the success of the first two books—as fiction novels
instead of biographies—I took Harry to meet her. Although he was reluctant at
first, I convinced him that sharing this story was important for all our sake.
The International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy was created in a time where we
were all being persecuted by Muggles, much like Muggle-borns were being
persecuted under Voldemort's regime. But now we're not and one day I hope to
see our world's reunited. What better way than to give them a glimpse of our
heroes?"
"We should also add," Harry interrupted Glenda's redirect, "that Jo is a
distant descendent of Helga Hufflepuff so we feel a little more justified in
telling her."
Glenda took a sip of her tea and turned to Harry. "One of the questions I get
most, Harry, is how much of these books are true? In your memoir you talk about
certain aspects of your life, and when you discus them they clearly don't match
what's in Ms. Rowling's series. Would you care to elaborate?"
"Sure. Well, The Philosopher's Stone and The Chamber of Secrets are probably
the closest to the truth than the rest of them. Hermione gave her the details
for those and really, they only omitted some details rather than changed any.
In the third book, anything that was changed was pretty irrelevant to begin
with. With the rest of the books, the key changes surrounded my relationships
really."
"And by relationships you mean…?"
"Romantic…romantic relationships. In Rowling's version, she shows Cho Chang and
Cedric Diggory closer than they actually were. And for reason. I told Rowling
this way of events when in fact, Cedric and Cho never dated. They were friends
and he knew she harbored feelings for him. But Cedric wasn't interested in
women. He was gay and in fact, he was interested in me. In my book, I explain
that had he not died in the graveyard that night, he and I may have actually
got around to being something after the tournament. I should add, too, that
when I told Jo about my fourth year, I wasn't ready to come out then. So that
definitely played a factor.
"In my fifth year, I dated Cho and mostly, as I've realized, out of guilt.
Unlike Cedric, I'm not gay. I'm what Muggles call pansexual, although I'm not
even sure that'd be accurate in my case. In my sixth year, I did date Ron's
sister Ginny and I honestly expected to be with her in the imagined way in The
Deathly Hallows. Like the book, at the end of the summer of '97, we
unfortunately got separated—as we knew we would. She returned to Hogwarts for
the first half of term and the three of us went to hunt Voldemort. After the
war, things were just…different. I was more numb and desensitized than the
books let on and Ginny, well she was devastated by Fred's death. In some ways I
think she blamed me, but I can't really attest to that but for my own
intuition. As you know, she took off within a year and she got recruited by the
Holyhead Harpies. That's where she met Charles and the rest is history I
s'pose."
"Charles Gray, correct?" Harry nodded. "Your book is very vague on the matter
but the couple married only a year after meeting but they've never had children
together. Yet, you and Ms. Gray share three children together, including your
recent newborn girl."
"For reasons that were never made clear to me, Ginny told me that they were
unable to have children but that she still wanted them. I offered to help her
and as you know we have two boys and now a girl together."
"And how does all of that work dynamically between your home in Godric's Hollow
and the Gray's residence in London?"
"Ginny and I resolved any looming tension long before our conversation about
children so unlike normal joint-custody situations, we're very civil about
things, even friendly. James, Albus, and Lily all live with their mother and
Charles, but I get them a few times a month, which right now with the new
position, helps out. I love my children but I want what's best for them, and my
unstable work-future is not what's best for them right now."
"And your husband, what does he say about all this?"
"Charlie, well Charlie's great about it all."
Chapter End Notes
     First off I want to say that in no way do I believe J.K. Rowling
     plagiarized Harry Potter; I thought this was a cool way to have Harry
     and the Wizarding world to be cool while still having the books.
     Second, I've been trying to visualize an actor for Charlie. He has
     such little airtime in the movies and the actor they had was pretty
     shite-looking. So I thought about it and I was watching Joe Wright's
     2005 Pride & Prejudice movie the other day and bam! Gorgeous Simon
     Woods is staring out at me as Mr. Bingley. So that's my visualization
     for him—not that that this bit of note is relevant in any way, just
     thought I'd share.
***** The Witching Hour, Part Three *****
"And your husband, what does he say about all this?"
"Charlie, well Charlie's great about it all. Even though they're technically
his niece and nephews, he treats them as if they were his own and he's turned
out to be quite a step-dad."
"How did you end up together?"
"I knew Charlie through Ron and he helped Hogwarts out on a number of
occasions. But I only started noticing him when the Auror Office got a tip
about Antonin Dolohov's whereabouts. Coincidentally one of Charlie's coworkers,
Katherine…Katherine…"
"Everdeen," Ron completed.
"That's it. Everdeen. Dolohov and Everdeen used to be involved and he turned to
her for help. Charlie Owled the Ministry and we showed up. By that time Dolohov
was on the run and Charlie helped us catch him. During our stay in Romania,
Charlie and I had some interesting conversations and that was probably when I
started developing feelings for him. It wasn't until his return home that we
finally found out about our mutual interest and the rest goes a little beyond
personal," Harry finished with an embarrassed laugh.
"And on that note we'll take our final break and talk about what the future
holds for the three of our guests."
===============================================================================
After another advertisement for Callum Costello's One-Man Symphony, the four
finished the interview discussing Harry and Ron's futures as Aurors and
Hermione's possible move to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, as well
as her current literary project: translating the original The Tales of Beedle
the Bard from their runic form.
After the interview was over, the trio shook Glenda's many ring-endowed hand
before leaving her studio-apartment and apparating home to Godric's Hollow—Ron
and Hermione were Harry and Charlie's neighbors a house or two down. The three
agreed to reconvene for lunch—with Charlie—but in the meantime Harry needed to
go check in on his still-sleeping husband.
Harry walked in to find Charlie's bare form motionlessly asleep. He was laying
stomach down, a content, almost satisfied smile spread across his face. Harry
kissed the red-head's forehead before returning to the kitchen to find Hunna
sitting there with the mail clutched in her beak. Hunna was a snowy owl, like
her predecessor, that Charlie gave Harry for Christmas two years back—Harry had
never brought himself to replace Hedwig after she died defending him and
Charlie knew the only way he could get Harry to move on would be to encourage
him with a little prompting. Hunna, unlike Hedwig, was a young owl and more
immature, much like that of Ron's Pigwidgeon. She preferred to take longer
hunting trips and occasionally postponed mail-deliveries, or forgot them
altogether when she felt she was underfed or unjustly punished.
Harry took the mail from her beak and scratched under her beak the way she
liked. She hooted softly and took off to find breakfast. Sifting through the
envelopes of varying size, Harry found a letter from Neville Longbottom, who
only last year decided to resign from the Auror Office and go teach at Hogwarts
after Professor McGonagall invited him to teach Herbology. Harry ripped open
the letter and read through the stationary-fine parchment. Neville explained
that he had never made a better decision in his life and that his life at
Hogwarts was more than he had imagined. Harry's former field-partner explained
that he recently had an outstanding laugh when one of his first year Slytherins
got attacked by a Devil's Snare sapling. Harry laughed aloud at Neville's
description of the event and no sooner had he Charlie's arms wrapped around his
waist.
"Good morning, Mr. Potter," Charlie said into Harry's neck, smiling as he
planted a few light kisses.
"Good morning, yourself, Mr. Weasley," Harry replied, placing the letter down
next to the rest of the letters.
"How was the interview?" Charlie asked, releasing Harry to go lean his backside
against the kitchen counter.
Harry turned to find Charlie still bare, his face almost seductive. Harry
swallowed harder than normal as he struggled to peel his eyes from Charlie's
lower region. "It was good, I s'pose. Chittock wasn't her normal exuberant
self. I suspect she's either getting old or she was afraid of Hermione; you
know what Hermione did to Rita Skeeter." Harry smirked thinking about
Hermione's destructive article in the Daily Prophet. It happened shortly after
the publication of The Philosopher's Stone and Skeeter had criticized the novel
as being nothing short of 'dishonest' and 'pandering to the sensationalists.'
Hermione, who had feuded with Skeeter since her fourth year at Hogwarts, burst
into a raging disbelief-laughter and soon wrote a nasty response to the
journalist in her very own home-paper. The article was read by so many people
and her attacks were cited so accurately that Skeeter lost much of her
credibility and reputation as a result, in addition to not being able to defend
herself adequately enough. Even her biography of Harry himself failed to make
any best-seller list and was considered a piece of slanderous lies, especially
when Harry and Hermione published his memoir (one of the other reasons for co-
authoring, which neither of them talked about on the Witching Hour, was to deal
the final blow to Skeeter's crumbling career).
"That's probably true. I remember when mum used to listen to her all the time.
I think she only stopped when Chittock interviewed Rita Skeeter about the
Dumbledore book. Man…I've never heard mum swear like she did then." Harry
smirked, trying to imagine Mrs. Weasley yelling at the wireless and possibly
beating it with a wooden spoon or such. He was soon interrupted when he was
pulled from his light daydream when he found Charlie directly before him, the
red-head's hand on Harry's waist again. "I missed you while you were gone."
"Pssh. You were sound asleep when I got home, prolly' thinking about one of
your lovers by the look on your face."
"Only one lover," Charlie said, pulling Harry tight. "This lover, actually."
Charlie leaned in and gently placed his lips against Harry's, just slightly
diagonal from the latter's, feeling their soft smooth skin beginning to meld
together. Their eyes closed before the touch and Harry moved his lazed hands up
to Charlie's arms, slowly beginning to caress them. Harry's mouth was the first
to split apart at the seam, which without missing a beat, was invaded by
Charlie's minty-mouthwash-clad tongue. Harry exhaled heavily through his nose,
moving his lips more fervently, borderline desperately.
The thud from Charlie's bump against the counter caught Harry off guard—he
never thought he could be so enraptured by anything that he wouldn't even
notice his own movement, in this case Charlie guiding them into a more
'comfortable' position against their counter, and subsequently their cutting
board. Harry closed his eyes again and although he never stopped kissing
Charlie, he forced his mind back into it and slid a hand around to the red-
head's dragon-tattoo-laced back. "You know…" Harry began, trying to kiss and
talk at the same time, much like one would try to chew and talk simultaneously,
"…we're supposed…to meet your…your brother and…and Hermione soon."
"Mmhmm," Charlie replied, moving south to Harry's neck, who promptly leaned his
head further back.
"I promised them—ah-ahh—that we'd meet them…for lunch."
"Mmm."
"Charlie…nugh…"
"Mmm?"
"We should probably…move this—"
"…to the bedroom…I know," he finally said in words. "What time's lunch?"
"Noon."
"That gives us time for two rounds," Charlie said, greedily grabbing Harry's
ass with both his hands, forcing their erections even tighter together.
"Three," Harry replied, stealing a peck from his lips, "you have no idea
how…wound up I am from work."
"Alright then. Three," Charlie said with a small laugh. "Then prepare yourself,
Harry Potter, for the best pounding you've ever received."
Harry laughed as Charlie lifted him by his globular cheeks. "Dork," Harry said
before they found their way on the bed that had staged many a moments that like
the ones that were about to transpire.
***** Interlude: The X-Rated Pensieve, Part One *****
For The Boy Who Lived: A Memoir project, Hermione thought it a good idea for
Harry to pour and sort as many of his memories into vials so they could be used
for the most vivid—and therefore accurate—translations into text. Over a span
of years, after work, Harry would sit at home and fill these vials and sort
them into a library-like room, dating, titling them, and categorizing them by
certain key taxonomies. One such category was his love life, which he rather
enjoyed revisiting—to some degree, rather. Harry filled these vials with
moments of first feelings, intense feelings, and physical contact— both soft
and hardcore. Harry remembered back to when he was filling a vial with his last
memory of intimacy with Cedric Diggory: his first love.
Harry remembered back to when it was December and he was sitting by the fire,
angry from having just filled the memory of when Ron and Hermione told Harry
that they were instructed to not write Harry all summer before their fifth
term. After that memory, he had needed a pick-me-up. His and Cedric's last
loving moments together were just that:
It was the eve before the Third and Final Task of the Triwizard Tournament.
Harry and Cedric had been 'dating' since the night of the Yule Ball; Cedric had
confessed his crush for Harry after the former joined the tiring Harry on the
marble staircase on the latter's way back to the Gryffindor Tower from the
dying dance. On the eve before Cedric's death, as it unfortunately turned out,
the pair had decided to make a trip to the prefect's bathroom…again. This time,
Cedric wanted to share 'something special' with Harry.
"How's preparations for the task been?" Cedric asked as the two boys began to
undress, starting with their black robes.
"Fair, I s'pose. Hermione, Ron, and I've been working on some spells. Stuff a
little above my head, still." Harry turned his back to Cedric as his lifted his
shirt from its base before pulling it over his head.
"You'll be fine, Harry," Cedric said, watching Harry's body as its true form
slowly became more and more revealed. When Harry had turned away, Cedric
chuckled internally, still attracted to Harry's embarrassment at being nude in
front of him; Harry was such a strong person but this, this was definitely a
side of him that was still trying to catch up to the rest of his strong-will.
"I watched the way you handled that Horntail, Harry. That was quite a show. And
in the black lake, you beat us all to our 'stolen items.' I think you should
give yourself more credit."
Harry shrugged. He slid down his underwear and hurried into the already filled
pool-like bath tub. "I prolly shouldn't be telling you this, but I'm having
trouble with the Shield Charm."
"And why shouldn't you be telling me this?" Cedric said as he slid in, resting
against the edge, a mere foot from Harry.
"Well, you're my opponent…in a way. Don't want you using that bit of knowledge
against me tomorrow. But then again…you're here…with me…like this."
"I am," Cedric said, moving closer, lightly caressing Harry's forearm with his
finger that rested on the tiled-ground behind them. Harry's gaze met Cedric's
at the moment of contact. Harry smiled at him, knowing that this was a safe
zone for him. A place where he could let go just a little more.
"Cedric?" Harry began, pushing off from the edge to go deeper into the water,
more so in front of Cedric.
"Hmm?" Cedric replied, watching Harry begin to tread water as the tub had
quickly deepened from 3½ feet to 5½.
"After the tournament's over, err, rather after the term's over, do you wanna'
do something? Over the summer?"
Cedric smiled rather brightly. "You mean like a date? Like a proper date?"
"Yeah. Like a proper date. 'Cuz we've mostly just been…sneaking around I
s'pose. It's been fun and all. Just…"
"You want it proper," Cedric added, swimming closer to Harry.
"Yeah, haha."
Cedric finally stopped a few inches from Harry and winked at him. "I know it's
been rough this term, what with the tournament and all. But Idolike you, Harry.
So yeah, let's do something. A proper date."
Harry smiled, finally able to release the stress from the question that had
been looming for weeks now. "I've got another question."
Cedric smiled wide. "You don't wanna' save it for the date?"
Harry laughed. "Well this one is kinda'…specific for now."
"Oh. Go on, then."
"The note you sent me earlier, it said you wanted to show me 'something
special' tonight. I assume it wasn't the bathroom 'cuz you already showed it to
me before."
"Haha, no Harry, not the bathroom. I err…Merlin, now I'm nervous."
Harry smiled, thankful that he had the same effect on Cedric that the older
Hufflepuff had on him. "Don't be…I'm not," Harry said, doing his best to keep a
straight face. Unfortunately, Cedric's contemptuous look of disbelief forced
Harry to crack a laugh. Cedric laughed, too, and he seized the moment to bring
his hands to Harry's sides, leading him back towards the edge of the tub to get
Harry into a more comfortable position for what was to come.
"We've been…'sneaking around' as you say…for months now. And I thought maybe we
could take it to another…another level," Cedric said, looking directly into
Harry's emerald eyes.
"You mean…?"
Cedric pulled Harry into him, frotting their erections together. "We've done a
lot these months, Harry. But we haven't had a…a 'proper' shag," Cedric said,
smiling wide again. Harry laughed at the pun but Cedric continued. "I
mean…we'll go as far as you're comfortable. But we haven't really…and itisthe
eve before the Final Task. I figured maybe this could be a little motivation
for winning. For the celebrations I mean, 'cuz Iamgoing to win after all."
Cedric winked as he finished.
Harry grinned back at him. "Unless I beat you to it, that is."
"There's that." Cedric slid a hand, that had still been resting on Harry's
side, to Harry's bum. After it made a teasing motion to slide in further,
deeper, Harry gasped sharply. "So what d'ya say, Harry? Proper?"
Harry forced a grin from his state of desperation and thrust into Cedric, their
chests now flush against each other, the smooth and slick contact bringing
about a new wave of pleasurable sensations to both boys.
"I take that as a 'yes'?" Cedric said, smirking as he took Harry's lips to his
own, moving his other hand on Harry's side to his bum, Cedric's middle fingers
meeting against Harry's most intimate place.
Harry moaned at the brush against his hole, at the tickle of the hairs, kissing
Cedric with an unfettered eagerness. Harry's hands wrapped around to Cedric's
strong and muscled back as their tongues clashed, sometimes even the teeth.
After enough teasing, Cedric slid a water-slickened finger into Harry, who
immediately broke off their intense kiss to let out a deep groan. Harry winced
from the pain, as they had never gone far into experimenting with Harry's arse.
But by now, after the few times they had experimented, Harry wasn't completely
new to the sensation, nor was he opposed to it by now. Trying to urge Harry
even further, Cedric pushed his middle finger knuckle-deep, his long finger
tapping against the sheaf of nerves nearly hidden deep inside the raven-haired
boy. Harry's hands and arms tensed and constricted from their caressing, a
near-stifled moan escaping from his throat.
"You okay?" Cedric asked, careful not to push Harry too far or too fast.
"A-Ah…y-yeah Ced," Harry said, attempting to force that finger harder into
those nerves. "D-Do that…again…please…"
Cedric latched his lips onto the bridge between Harry's neck and shoulder,
sucking and even threatening to leave a hickey with his teeth. All the while,
Cedric pushedthatfinger against Harry's prostate, taking Harry's moment of
sheer pleasure to force his unsheathed middle finger into Harry as well. Within
a matter of seconds, Harry's arm clung to Cedric's neck and upper back as he
breathed heavily—and even gasped—into the dirty-blonde's ear, all due to
Cedric's fully submerged fingers pushing sharply against a spot Harry never
knew existed until but a few moments ago.
"This, Harry…this is what I wanted to…ungh…wanted to show you."
Wanting to meet Cedric's chatter, Harry found himself barely able to speak, let
alone develop a retort. He could only coherently speak with actions and instead
forced himself from desperately holding onto Cedric to kiss him, closing his
eyes to tenderize the moment. But even as Cedric returned his affection, Harry
was even pulled fromthatas Cedric's fingers began to rip at his arse—or stretch
as he would later understand.
"C-Ced…h-hur—ow…hurts…"
"Wrap your legs around my waist," Cedric said.
Harry nodded, trying to lend as much of his trust to the older boy as he could.
As Harry complied, he soon found himself overcome by pleasure from the impact
of Cedric seating them on one of the tub's steps, the force of the thud
drivingthose fingersroughly againstthose nerves. "Ahhhh," Harry cried out,
returning to clutching onto Cedric's back.
"Sorry," Cedric said, thinking he'd hurt the boy now seated in his lap.
"N-No…don't be…that was…" He couldn't finish, still too overcome by the
pleasure.
"Oh, haha," Cedric said. He crushed his lips to Harry's, hoping to distract him
as he continued to stretch the Gryffindor's arsehole. Harry grudged through it,
the distraction helping on top of the stretching-pains lessening.
After several minutes of stretching and making out, Cedric hoped that Harry was
ready to move on to the anticipated activity of the night—at least inhismind.
"H-Harry," Cedric creaked out, the throbbing in his cock almost too much as the
friction had been too intense. "Harry? Are you ready?"
Harry looked at him, willing his nerves to leave his body. "Y-Yeah,
Ced…just…just do it."
"You sure? I don't wanna'—"
"Do it, Cedric…before I change my mind," Harry almost commanded, leaning in to
kiss him again.
Taking the hint, Cedric removed his fingers and with his left hand he reached
for his wand sticking out of his pants nearby. Pointing the wand at Harry's
bum, Cedric muttered a simple spell, "Lubricus Laboricus." The tip of Cedric's
wand glowed a dim white before dissipating. He tossed his wand back at his
pants and looked into Harry's face. The raven-haired boy nodded and Cedric
lifted Harry by his arse-cheeks, spreading his hole slightly. Cedric pulled
Harry closer so he was hovering over his dick and said, "This is going to hurt
a bit, but the spell should make it so it's mostly uncomfortable rather than
painful. But it'll get better. I promise."
"I trust you, Cedric," Harry said, hoping his face didn't show that he was
worried. Cedric gave him a light smile before lowering Harry down. The first
sensation was of that of something large, yet borderline hot, unlike the warm
bath water around them, settled against his hole. Without needing a cue from
Harry, Cedric pulled down slightly, letting gravity do most of the work as his
head breached Harry's arse. Crying out only slightly, Harry forced his eyes to
remain on Cedric. Cedric released Harry and placed his hands flat against his
chest, ceding the control-of-speed to his younger lover.
Surprisingly to Cedric, Harry lowered himself faster than the Hufflepuff
anticipated. 'Maybe it's that Gryffindor-courage,' Cedric dared to think,
smiling inwardly to himself before he was pulled from his naïve thought as the
constriction around his cock intensified when he found Harry fully seated
around him. "Are you okay?" Cedric asked, somewhat concerned about Harry's look
of shock. The raven-haired boy's mouth was agape and his eyes were somewhat
wider than usual.
"Just…j-just give me a minute," Harry finally said. Cedric nodded and began to
lightly massage Harry's Quidditch-defined pecks, the blonde's thumb rubbing a
nipple here and there. Tortured too long by the lack of any attention to his
cock and 'too much' attention to his arse, Harry pulled himself from his shock
from the pressure and wrapped his arms around Cedric's neck, kissing his lips
once. "Move…please," Harry begged.
Cedric smirked and raised Harry by his thighs before thrusting up and pulling
him down simultaneously. "Merlin!" Harry cried out, his eyes bulging. "Th-
There…hit that…hit that again." Cedric repeated his thrust and smashed into
Harry's prostate for a second time, causing the raven-haired boy's vision to
fuzz, an amount of white taking over what would be Cedric's face and the
background of the bathroom's entrance.
Cedric continued to thrust into Harry, dying from the sounds Harry made into
his ear. He wasbeyondready to explode and the still-tight passage surrounding
his cock was not helping. Cedric clamped his teeth down on the same side of
Harry's neck he'd been teasing earlier, just enough to send a surge of pleasure
throughout Harry's body. Deciding to change the pace a bit, Cedric lifted Harry
up from his arse again and stabilized him just high enough to thrust almost the
full length of his cock into Harry. Harry's gaze fuzzed over again as his head
flew backwards, his mouth wide open but no cries coming out. "Merlin, Harry…you
look so amazing," Cedric finally said, looking the boy over from his nipples,
to the bruising hickey, to the nape of his neck, to his thrown back head, and
finally to entire picture of this amazing wizard seated around him.
Overcome by Harry's masculine beauty, and the powerful emotion that flooded
inside him, Cedric lost just enough control and dropped Harry. Cedric's cock
slammed into the Gryffindor and that was enough. "Mer-ahhh, Cedric!" Harry
called as his orgasm breached through his defeated defenses. His throbbing cock
pulsed as cum began to spurt into the water. Cedric almost immediately
followed, as he had attempted to regain control and began to thrust into Harry.
The pulsing constriction of Harry's arse, around several parts of his dick as
Cedricwasthrusting, pushed Cedric through the same orgasmic wall Harry had only
just passed through. Cedric came deep inside Harry, clutching the smaller boy
to him as he rested his head against Harry's shoulder, panting from the
pleasure, almost whimpering.
Harry relaxed against Cedric, his chin resting against the Hufflepuff's neck.
"Wow…"Harry finally said, completely exhausted.
"Yeah…" Cedric replied.
"I think…err."
"What?"
"I think, when the tournament's over, we should do that again. A lot. And more
often."
Cedric laughed rather abruptly. "Harry."
"Yeah?"
"You're a wonder sometimes."
"That a good thing?" Harry said, tilting his head so his cheek lay across
Cedric's broader shoulder.
"Yeah, that's a good thing."
"Good," Harry said, Cedric snorting in response.
"We should probably get dried off. We're prolly' clean enough from the soap-
water."
"Prolly'," Harry said lazily.
"And then we should get dressed so we can get some sleep. So we can be ready
for the task tomorrow."
"Oh yeah, there's that," Harry said almost disappointingly.
"Yeah, there's that," Cedric said smirking.
"Bollocks."
"You just don't want to get out."
"It's not the getting out. It's the getting up and the leaving you."
"You'll see me tomorrow. Hey, you're not gonna' turn clingy on me all of a
sudden."
"It's not really that. I mean yeah, I'll miss you. I always kinda' do. You're
fun to be around. Even when we're not…messing around. It's just, this is so
comfortable and relaxing. Even with you still…well you know."
"Inside you?"
"Haha, yeah. That."
"I should prolly pull out, though. I'm kinda' painfully hard."
"Oh. Yeah. Here." Harry dislodged his cheek from Cedric's shoulder and lifted
up off Cedric, wincing at the almost-burn when the head finally pulled past the
outer most ring of muscle. Harry stood and held out his hand to Cedric.
"Thank you, Prince Harry," Cedric said, smirking as he took Harry's hand and
stood up using the leverage.
"No, thank you, Mr. Diggory. That was certainly something…extra special."
"OnlyMr. Diggory, then? Sigh," Cedric said, pulling Harry's chain.
Harry rolled his eyes and planted a soft kiss on the older boy's lips. "Captain
Diggory, then?" Harry teased.
Cedric laughed and pulled them close, embracing Harry. "Captain, then," Cedric
said with a smirk. They released after the brief hug and scrambled out of the
tub using the step Cedric had been sitting on. They dried off and dried each
other off. And before long, the two Triwizard Champions found themselves back
where they started: fully clothed and dry. Yet, things were different now. They
smelled of a mix of flowers and fruits and trees. And more importantly, the
awkwardness and nervousness that had existed between the two of them had all
but dissipated. Harry was more than happy to gaze at Cedric and Cedric the same
with Harry.
"I'm gonna' check 'n see if the coast is clear," Harry said, pulling out the
'unlocked' Marauders' Map as he walked towards the locked door. Seeing that no
one was within any league of catching them, Harry peeped out for show before
hurrying back to his wand and invisibility cloak. "We're good."
"We are," Cedric said, grinning at Harry.
"Doofus," Harry said, grinning back at him.
"I guess this is goodnight then, Harry" Cedric said.
"Yeah," Harry replied.
"Umm, I guess I'll see you tomorrow sometime before the task right?"
"Yeah," Harry replied again.
"Maybe we can sneak off for a moment. Share a pre-game toast? I live near the
house-elves so they would probably get me something if I asked."
"That'd be nice," Harry said, smiling warmly back at him.
"Then it's a date," Cedric said.
"But not aproperone," Harry said, grinning wide.
"Right, not aproperone, haha." Cedric winked at Harry and said, "Shall we
then?"
Harry nodded.
The two boys walked out into the hall and Cedric let the door close as quietly
as possible. "G'night, Cedric," Harry whispered.
Cedric leaned down and kissed Harry, letting passion creep in for just a moment
to make what they had last just that much longer. Finally, after a small amount
of tongue-play, Cedric broke first and smiled down at Harry's swept expression.
"G'night, Harry." Cedric turned and headed for the opposite direction that
Harry'd be taking. Harry quickly threw the invisibility cloak around himself
and headed off towards Gryffindor tower—away from Cedric. Harry turned to look
back and watched as Cedric did the same, only Harry could see him and not the
other way around. Harry could see Cedric smiling his way, visible by the light
of the dimLumos, and Harry returned it despite it all.
Harry blinked his eyes a few times, realizing a content smile was spread across
his face. He got up from his office chair at home in Godric's Hollow and headed
for the basement. Charlie was at work at the Ministry and Harry was able to
come home early and finish filling out the day's paperwork there. After
reaching the base of the stairs, Harry waved his hand and the lights came on.
He walked over to what appeared to be a circuit breaker box and he knocked five
times on the top of the metal case and twice on the bottom. The brick wall it
was attached to began to slide backwards and soon a human-sized opening had
been made into the wall.
Through the wall Harry found himself at his personal memory archive, a chamber
which, surface area-wise, was larger than the base of the house. Harry walked
in and staring back at him was the pensieve he had found locked away at
Grimmauld Place along with a number of other invaluable Black family
possessions. Ignoring the basin itself, Harry walked up the first of the two
columns, staring down the rows until he found row four, which he promptly
walked down. Harry found himself in front of a small vial, dated June 23, 1995,
with a red box beneath it surrounded by a hot pink border. Underneath the box
read a title in Harry's handwriting, reading 'First Time.' Harry smiled and
said to no one, "Thanks, Ced."
***** Commemorations of the Second Wizarding War, Part One *****
May 2, 2008; Godric's Hollow
"Harry."
Shake.
"Harry."
"Nnnnn…" Harry moaned.
"Harry, wake up."
"Do I have to?"
"Only if you want to keep your promise to your best mates," Charlie said, his
voice finally becoming recognizable through Harry's drowsiness.
Harry's eyes sprung open and his head turned, looking at the Muggle alarm clock
they had plugged in. "Bollocks," Harry swore, rolling out of bed as the clock
read five minutes 'til noon. "Why didn't you wake me up? We're gonna' be late."
"Listen, Potter," Charlie began, following him into their bathroom to get a
fresh rinse, "I just woke up, too. Maybe if someone hadn't pushed us to doing
it three times then maybe we'd be on time." Harry scowled at Charlie's retort
and stopped to kiss him.
"Sorry. You know me…I always wake up in a foul mood."
"I do. Now get your scrawny ass in there before I make it four times."
Harry's eyes bulged and he quickly scampered into the instant-hot shower.
Charlie joined him after splashing his face and the two took brief turns under
the shower head before shutting it off. Within but a few minutes, both were
apparating out their bedroom and into a narrow alley where the trash was taken
into. The two men stepped out onto the main street of Godric's Hollow,
knowingly finding themselves at the other end of the village in front of
Peverell's Pub. They swiftly entered at only a few minutes past the hour,
finding Ron and Hermione only just being seated at the back corner of the
building.
Charlie followed Harry back and the two took their seats, the Weasley couple
sitting facing the front and Harry and Charlie with their backs to it, sitting
in chairs while the former sat in a wooden booth. "Where're the kids?" Charlie
asked, noting the lack of Rose and Hugo, only two and one at this point.
"We decided since we were having lunch with you two," Ron answered, "that we'd
drop 'em off with mum. She hasn't seen 'em in a week so I figured she could
spend some time with 'em before tonight."
"She's not going overboard is she?" Charlie asked, knowing his mother was
always one to cook for more people than were attending.
"She's been good. Bill and Fleur got there last night so I think Fleur was able
to keep her under control. They're done but for the ham. You guys are still
coming, right?"
Charlie nodded. "Wouldn't miss seeing my favorite brother." Ron frowned and
Charlie chuckled.
"So, Hermione," Harry began, "long time no see."
Hermione smiled at him, "So what did you do after the interview?"
"Oh Harry and I sh—" Charlie tried to answer before Harry kicked him, glaring
at him threateningly.
Their waitress, a young witch, came to their table and took their order, all
four of them avoiding the regular alcoholic delights—Butterbeer, Firewhiskey,
et. al.—in favor of enjoying them later at Victoire's eighth birthday party.
"I got a letter from Neville," Harry tried to cover. Hermione looked at him
knowingly but didn't say anything. "He's happy at Hogwarts. Much more than he
was at the Ministry."
"I think we got something from him, too," Hermione said.
"We didn't get a chance to go through any of the mail," Ron added. "We were too
busy sh—"
"Ronald!" Hermione cried. All three of them laughed and Hermione's face fell
into her palm.
"Did you guys get anything for Victoire?" Harry asked, once again trying to
save the moment.
"Hermione got her a book, of course," Ron said, looking at his wife who looked
back up to glare at him. "What?"
"Nothing," Hermione said, shaking her head and looking back at Harry.
Ron smirked and said to Harry, "You?"
"Charlie upgraded from the last seven years of stuffed dragons to a dragon
blanket," Harry mockingly said, faking being impressed.
"Ooo," Ron said, mimicking his mate's tone.
"I hate you both," Charlie said, the trio all laughing before the waitress
returned with their full order of food and beverages, Hermione with the only
'Muggle drink.'
***** Commemorations of the Second Wizarding War, Part Two *****
May 2, 2008; The Burrow
"Happy birthday, little princess," Charlie said, bending down to give his
white-blond-haired niece a hug as the trio entered the Burrow behind him.
"Thank you, Uncle Charlie," she said attempting to wrap her little arms around
his broad frame.
"And how old are you today?"
"Eight."
"You having a fun time at grandma and grandpa's?"
Victoire nodded.
"I'm gonna' go say hi to your daddy, okay?" She nodded again. "Uncle Ronny's
here, too, so go say hi to him." She smiled and ran behind Charlie to hug Ron's
leg. Charlie stood and walked into the kitchen to find Molly and Fleur standing
over a number of pots, while Arthur and Bill were seated at the kitchen table
playing Wizard's Rummy. "Hello, hello," Charlie said with a wide grin.
"Charlie!" Arthur said loudly, standing to greet his son. Bill, the oldest
Weasley child, stood as well to embrace his brother, the one with whom he'd
always been closest even despite Charlie's prior job in Romania. After
embracing Bill, Charlie found his shorter mother's arms around him and then
kissed Fleur, greeting her European style.
"Iz 'Arry 'ere?" Fleur said to Charlie.
Charlie yanked his head over his shoulder as he was in the middle of listening
to his mother rant about him not coming by enough, especially now that he's
'only in Godric's Hollow and not across the continent.'
Fleur walked up to Harry and hugged him; Fleur had always had a fondness for
Harry since the end of the Second Task. "How are you Mrs. Weasley?" Harry
teased as they broke from their embrace.
She eyed him suspiciously before smiling at him. "I am good, 'Arry. Bill is so
vunderful zu me. 'E is a great father too," she said, eyeing Victoire talking
to Ron.
Harry grinned, the thought of the part-werewolf fang-earring-wearing man as a
'great father' too charming. They continued to converse, Harry inquiring about
the kids and home-life at the Shell Cottage, and Fleur in turn asking about
life with Charlie and about the new Ministry position. Around them, Ron and
Hermione reunited with their two little ones; Rose had been playing with Bill
and Fleur's three little ones while Hugo slept upstairs in Bill's old bedroom—a
charm had been placed on the room to alert Molly should he awake.
After catching up, Harry moved on to speak with Arthur and Fleur with Hermione,
who was now watching Rose like a hawk. "Harry!" Molly cried, wrapping her arms
around him, interrupting Arthur's inquiry into Harry and Charlie's mixed
Muggle/Wizard setup for their home.
"Hey, mum," Harry said, hugging the woman he'd loved for a long time. "Happy
Phoenix Day."
"Happy Phoenix Day to you, too. How are you dear? Eating a little better I can
see," she said with a proud smile.
"It's Charlie's doing, I swear," he joked innocently.
"Oh I'm sure. He's always been the biggest eater in the family, even more than
Ron."
"That I'm not sure I can believe."
"Listen, Harry," Ron suddenly said behind Harry.
"Ron, come give your mother a hug," Molly said, her arms wide.
===============================================================================
The greetings and pleasantries passed rather quickly, even despite the later
arrivals adding more to the mix. The first to arrive was George and Angelina
with their two little ones, Fred and Roxanne. George seemed to be in a bit of a
mood, but kept his mask on as best as he could as this was the anniversary he
lost his twin. George had continued the legacy of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes that
he and Fred built together, the business now a more booming success after Ron
helped George in the subsequent years after the final battle.
The next to arrive was Dromeda Tonks with her grandson and Harry's godson,
Teddy. Harry was fond of his godson, subconsciously filling the role that
Sirius was never able to for him. Teddy had his mother's metamorphmagus genes,
but also his father's knack for mischief—at least when Remus Lupin was at
Hogwarts. Andromeda and Harry saw each other often, as Harry liked to visit his
godson and the pair got along well, despite practically being strangers, Harry
having met the widow only once before he was named godfather.
The last to arrive was Ginny and Charles with her and Harry's children, James,
Albus, and the recently born Lily. Ginny had retired from the Holyhead Harpies
after she and Harry planned to have kids together. Charles, on the other hand,
was a wealthy wizard as he owned the Montrose Magpies Quidditch team; although
he was unable to have children of his own, for an unspecified reason even to
Harry, he respected Harry enough to allow Harry become the father of the
children Ginny, Harry, and he all wanted, and even had more respect to not push
to be known as the children's 'father.' Harry had a lot of respect for Charles
Gray for that exact reason, even though it was known to the family that he was
away on business a good third to half of every year, leaving Ginny alone for
that entire duration. Ron, on the other, hand, couldn't stand Charles. Harry
had never been sure if that was because Ron was so protective of Ginny or if it
was because he owned one of the Chudley Cannons' major rivals teams. Or both.
The missing party, Percy, Audrey, and their two daughters, Molly and Lucy, were
away on vacation visiting her mother the United States. Percy was Minister
Shacklebolt's Secretary for the Department of Magical Transport, a position he
submerged himself into as much as could. Although less since the end of the
war, Percy was still estranged from his family, often choosing to avoid the
family gatherings and remain at home, work, or finding another excuse to drive
that wedge further between his own household and the Burrow.
By the time Ginny, Charles, and the lot had arrived, Molly Weasley's dinner was
ready. The table consisted of the following order: at the head of the table sat
Arthur, next to him on his left sat Bill, then Fleur, Angelina, George, Ron,
Andromeda, and Molly on the other head, with Hermione on her left, then Ginny,
Charles, Charlie, and finally Harry on Arthur's right. The kids all sat at a
smaller table within eyesight of Molly's end of the table, Teddy, the oldest,
responsible for making sure the rest were behaving.
"While Molly was listening to your interview this morning," Arthur began,
talking to Harry, finished with their conversation about Charlie and his house-
setup, "I heard a plug for a concert in Diagon Alley. Some wizard named Callum
Costello. He was also in the Prophetthis morning; did you know he's the
youngest wizard to write and conduct a full symphony by himself without any
other musicians present?"
Harry shook his head, now interested in the wizard that he had previously
written off as just another advertisement.
Bill took an interest at his father's words as well, while Fleur and Angelina
talked about the politics between the British and French Ministries of Magic.
George and Ron talked business, while Andromeda and Molly caught up on life
since their last family outing. Hermione and Ginny talked children and Charlie
made his damnedest attempt to engage Charles in conversation, though the man
was definitely stiffer and probably more nervous to talk much.
===============================================================================
After the dinner, while Fleur, Angelina, George, Ron, and of course Molly all
put the food away, cleared the table, and cleaned the dishes and counters,
Teddy helping as he was a bit old for what the others were playing, Harry,
Arthur, Bill, and Charlie all contemplated what the anniversary service would
entail the next day; Hermione and Ginny were off nursing their newborns and
Charles out back smoking a cigar, sipping his Firewhiskey. There were two
services to commemorate the end of the Second Wizarding War, one at Hogwarts,
as two of the major battles took place there, including the final battle, and
the other at the Ministry. Most of the Weasley family had opted to go to the
Hogwarts service, deciding to meet up with past professors, alumni, and other
veterans that didn't receive an invitation from the Ministry. Harry, Charlie,
Ron, and Hermione were all going to the Ministry's as they had received
invitations and Harry was obligated to go: he was supposed to be giving the
keynote speech for the Minister for Magic. Arthur and Molly had also been
invited, what with the patriarch still serving as Director of the Office for
the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective
Objects, but because he wasn't in any obligation to go, the older couple opted
to spend the occasion at the more welcoming location.
"Are you ready for you speech then, Harry?" Arthur asked, taking a sip of his
Streeler Scotch, a drink meant to be sipped even slower than normal sipping
scotch.
"I s;pose. I've been rehearsing in front of the mirror so I'm hoping it helps."
"You'll do fine," Charlie said encouraging, placing his arm that was resting on
top of the back-cushion around Harry's shoulders.
"Did mum say anything about the interview this morning?" Harry asked. "I know
she's still angry after the Skeeter interview for the Dumbledore book."
"Nothing really. She did have to powder up, though, after what you said about
her being like a second mother."
"Oh…yeah, haha."
Seeing Harry blush, Charlie shifted slightly. It wasn't often that Harry got
embarrassed anymore, but when he did, Charlie couldn't help but need to cool
down a bit. "So, Bill, how's the curse breaking going?" he finally said.
"Well," he responded, perking up, "got back from Iran just this past Saturday."
"Iran?" Charlie and Harry said in simultaneous surprise.
"We're trying to find Zoroaster's lost tomb. The goblins think there's a
fortune in there. There's a ruined site in one of the eastern provinces but it
turned out to be a bust. How's the restraining…err…taming going?"
Charlie worked for the Dragon Research and Restraint Bureau, a sub-office in
the Beast Division of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical
Creatures, ever since he and Harry became an item a few months after the
Dolohov manhunt. He worked as a 'restrainer,' a term Charlie despised and was
very sensitive about, and told everyone that would listen that the term should
be 'tamer.' "The work's good. Funny story, we caught a bloke the other day in
Knockturn Alley selling dragon eggs out of a crate. We had an Auror come by and
arrested the bloke of course, but it turns out he had something around two
dozen dragon eggs in his possession. The offices are coordinating on trying to
find out where and how he could have gotten so many."
"Some people," Bill started, "I swear they'll do anything sometimes. Especially
in that part of London."
"Speaking of 'some people' and Knockturn Alley," Harry added, "I ran into Draco
the other day."
"Malfoy?" Arthur said.
"The one and only. It was at the Ministry. He came to report a crime, believe
it or not."
"Are you sure it wasn't him that did it?" Bill asked through a laugh. The
others laughed and Harry shook his head.
"Nah. Apparently his new house-elf ran off with a ring of some sort in
retaliation. With Hermione's fight for their rights you know they can do that
now."
"Amazing," Bill said. "Some people never change."
Harry shrugged and thought back to the incident, remembering his own
expression, or rather what it would have looked like when one of his Aurors
reported it to him.
"Well that's the last time I do dishes with George," Ron said, walking into the
family room, clearly drenched in soapy water and covered in bits of food here
and there.
The four men sitting did their best to stifle and control their laughs, but
only Harry and Arthur were more successful. Scowling even further, Ron didn't
even wait for a decent response before ascending the staircase to the upper-
most bathroom to shower off.
After exchanging looks, George stepped into the room, his face that classic
mischievous look. "Where's Ron? I wanna' rinse that food off," he said, holding
his wand up, a large wobbling orb of water floating above the tip.
"George Weasley!" Molly's voice boomed.
"He went upstairs to shower," Arthur said quickly.
George nodded and darted off. After the hurried sound of stair stomping, floor
creaking, and door opening, Ron's voice cried down the stairs. "George, I'm
going to kill you!"
The four men burst out laughing, Bill even snorting some of his Firewhiskey up
and out through his nose, adding another pair of extra laughs from Charlie and
Harry. Bill held his nose, swearing from the fiery burning sensation, worse
than any carbonated Muggle drink that would have a similar effect.
***** Commemorations of the Second Wizarding War, Part Three *****
May 3, 2008; The Burrow
Harry awoke to a tapping against the window. He opened his eyes to find a
still-blossoming light shining into his face. He looked from the window to the
slumbering red-head next to him: the man he called 'husband.'
Tap, tap.
Harry's sight tried to focus on the window but nothing but a light blur came
through. He reached over Charlie's broad back and grasped his glasses, swiftly
placing them over his eyes. Standing on the windowsill was Hunna, staring at
her master, holding a small brown package with twine wrapped around it like a
bow would be around a present. Realizing what it was, Harry mumbled to himself,
"Can't believe I forgot that." Thinking back to why he'd forgotten it, he
mentally took the comment back. "Thanks, Hunna," Harry said, taking the light
package from her beak and petting her under the sharp mouth. She lovingly
nipped his finger and took off.
"Harry? Why's it cold?" Charlie asked, patting the place where Harry's warm
body had only just been.
"I left dad's present at home," Harry said, standing over Charlie, the latter's
face still resting towards the opposite wall. "Hunna woke me up. She brought it
over."
"Smart bird, now get back in here."
Harry rolled his eyes and dropped the box on the nightstand before jumping over
Charlie's form and landing roughly on the bed, making them both bounce and the
mattress creak.
"Nnnnnngh," Charlie groaned.
"What? You wanted me back so I'm back," Harry prodded, kissing the tip of
Charlie's nose.
Knock, knock, knock.
"Is it safe to come in?" came Ginny's voice through the door.
"Yeah," Harry said, turning to lay on his backside, propping himself up on his
elbows; Charlie remained motionless.
Ginny came in, reddened slightly at the form of Charlie's naked back sticking
out of the covers, thankful that Harry had on pajamas. "James was asking when
you were going to pour him some cereal. He was very adamant that you did it,"
Ginny said, smirking at the stubbornness her child had inherited from both his
parents. Harry couldn't help but do the same.
"I would but Charlie's cold," Harry joked.
"Charlie will be fine," Ginny said, her hands moving to her hips. "He's a grown
man."
"You clearly don't know your brother," Harry joked even further, a gaping grin
spreading across his face. However, that earned him a shove as Charlie opened
an eye.
"Look into my eye," Charlie said, trying to imitate the Muggle movie he
couldn't place the title of.
"I'm coming, Gin," Harry said, winking to her. She smiled knowingly and closed
the door behind her. "Fatherly duty calls," Harry said, getting up again.
"Rutty stubborn kids. Wish I knew where they got it from." Harry nipped
Charlie's ear harder than normal before opening the door and heading out into
the hall. "Bring me something!" Charlie called after him.
===============================================================================
Charlie didn't join the rest of them until after noon. Andromeda and Teddy had
already gone back to her home and George, Angelina, Fred, and Roxanne had
already gone back to their home in London; the couple lived above the Weasleys'
Wizard Wheezes shop front. Arthur, Molly, Bill, Fleur, Hermione, Victoire,
Dominique, and Rose were all out shopping in Diagon Alley. James, Louis, and
Albus were playing outback while Harry and Ron were seated on the stoop
outback, each holding an infant; Hugo asleep and Lily sucking a dummy. Ginny
and Charles were out front, the former clearly upset; Charlie guessed that he
was telling her that he had to go on another business trip.
Charlie grabbed a glass of Pumpkin Juice and joined his husband and brother on
the stoop. They greeted him welcomingly and the three men watched the kids
play, talking about the event that was only five hours away. The memorial
service would begin with a cocktail drinks and Hors d'oeuvres party, allowing
the invitees to mingle. After an hour, a musical guest was supposed to start
livening up the night until finally the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister
for Magic would take the stage and begin the speaking segment. Harry was
supposed to follow him as the keynote speaker for the Minister, when Kingsley
Shacklebolt would close out the service. Any who wanted to continue to mingle
after would be allowed to stay only until nine in the evening.
===============================================================================
When Arthur and party didn't return when it was time for Charlie and Harry to
get ready for the service, Harry left the small box on the bedroom nightstand
and the couple disapparated. Reappearing in their bedroom, Charlie took the
shower first—and alone. Harry undressed and walked over to the picture frame on
his-side nightstand. It was a picture of Harry, Ginny, Charlie, Charles, James,
Albus, and Lily, being held jointly by Ginny and Harry. It had been a happy
moment, unlike the one that had ensued only half an hour ago. James and Albus
had refused to leave Harry's side after he had been playing with them in the
yard, the three boys posing as Aurors fighting off Harry: the mountain troll.
Ginny, who clearly had been crying, was trying her best to keep it together as
she urged her two sons to come with her to head home. After Ginny neared the
verge of crying in frustration, Harry interjected and told them it was time for
them to go with mommy and that he'd see them soon and that mommy needed them
right now. The boys finally complied and gave their dad a long hug before
disapparating with Ginny, who was holding Lily in her arms.
"Hey, beautiful," Charlie said, his wet skin coming in contact with Harry's
back, as well as another appendage brushing Harry's hairy bum.
"Hey," Harry said, placing the frame down and turning to wrap his arms around
Charlie's neck.
Noting the picture, Charlie said, "Sorry about Gin."
Harry shook his head. "Nothing you coulda' done."
"I think Charles told her he was going off again. I heard them arguing out
front before I joined you guys."
"I figured. What else would it have been?"
Charlie shrugged and leaned in for a kiss. "I hope I never make you that
upset."
"Well if you ever do—which I don't think you will—but if you do, I don't think
a box of tissues will help. In fact, I reckon you might even have to go into
hiding," Harry said with a laugh.
"Nah, we'd just grudge it out on top 'a here," Charlie said, motioning with his
head to the bed.
"Prolly right," Harry said, his own member twitching at the thought.
Feeling the slight sensation against his thigh, Charlie smirked. "We don't have
time."
"I know," Harry said, pushing into Charlie.
"You're a little devil," Charlie said through clenched teeth.
"I know," Harry said, evilly smirking before kissing Charlie's cheek and
walking into the bathroom. Soon, the water turned on and Harry was concealed
behind the frosty-glass screen.
Standing there hard, Charlie breathed out a heavy sigh in frustration before
looking at their alarm clock. Resigning himself and knowing that they didn't
have to be right on time, Charlie walked back into the bathroom. Harry, who was
still in the process of just wetting his hair, suddenly swallowed some shower
water when he gasped. Charlie had grabbed both Harry's arse cheeks and gave
them a squeeze.
"Ch-Charlie…we don't have time," Harry said, attempting to turn and face him.
But Charlie had other plans and, using Harry's arse, kept the raven-haired man
facing the same direction.
Charlie pushed Harry lightly up against the wall, the latter's chest flush with
the cold tile. Kneeling down, Charlie became level with Harry's arse. "We do
have time for this, though," Charlie said proudly before leaning forward and
burying his tongue in Harry's widespread hole. Darting past the dark hairs and
using his hands on the round cheeks to spread Harry more easily, Charlie licked
around the edges before pushing inside, his lips suctioning to the rim.
Harry's eyes fluttered close as he moaned, one hand attempting to grip the tile
and the other moving down to grab one of Charlie's forearms. "Fugh…fuck,
Charlie…" Harry mumbled. With his free arm, Charlie ran his hand firmly up
Harry's arched back, gliding it along the tender skin spreading from his
shoulders to his curved cheeks. "Nyuughh…Charlie…please…" Harry pushed back
against Charlie's tongue, attempting to make the breach deeper, his hardened
cock flinging upward with the change in space. "Inside…now…" Charlie smiled
against Harry's arse and stood, rubbing the length of his cock between Harry's
crease.
"Yes, my incubus," Charlie said, planting a tight kiss against Harry's shoulder
as he lined himself with the puckering hole, the tip resting just between the
outer edges of that loving hole.
===============================================================================
"Ah, Harry," Kuiperian Whipple said.
"Secretary," Harry greeted, shaking the Secretary for the Department of Magical
Law Enforcement's hand. Harry and Charlie arrived half an hour past the start
and seemed a little on the flustered side.
"How was your holiday, my boy?"
"Great, sir. Spent it with the family, of course."
"O'course," Whipple said.
"And yours, sir?"
"Spent it with the misses," the older man said, adding, "Just the two of us.
The kids and grandkids stayed home this year."
"Sorry to hear that," Harry replied.
"Nonsense," Whipple said. "When you get to my age, all you're going ter' want
ter' do is have this young man all alone with some peace and quiet."
Harry blushed, having just had some quality alone time. "Indeed, Secretary,"
Harry said. Charlie shook Harry's boss' hand before the two of them made their
way through the crowds hoping to find Ron and Hermione. Of course, the couple
was interrupted in their search several, Ministry officials stopping to shake
Harry's hand or thank him, even sometimes forcing a chat. Across the room,
standing by the central fountain, was Percy Weasley and his wife Audrey, no
kids in sight. Before either of them could even begin to decide on whether or
not they'd go over there, Belenus Swan walked up to them.
"Sir," he said, addressing Harry, "the Minister wishes to speak to you." Harry
nodded and the three began to move towards the elevators when Swan stopped.
"Sorry, Mr. Weasley, I was instructed to bring the Director only." Charlie
nodded and pecked Harry's lips. "If you wish, sir, Mrs. Weasley is waiting by
the statue of Merlin."
"Mrs. Weasley?"
"Ms. Hermione Weasley, sir."
"Oh. Alright, then. Don't be long," Charlie said, winking at Harry before the
two went off their separate ways.
"What's going on, Swan?" Harry asked, noting the man's twilight-blue trench
coat: the standard hit wizard 'uniform.'
"I'm not allowed to disclose until we get to the Minister's office."
Harry nodded, frustratingly understanding. Within a few moments, Harry was
walking in to find the Minister for Magic seated behind his desk, a display of
host in the chairs on the opposite side, one empty chair reserved for Harry.
Harry took his seat next to Ron, who was also part of this meeting; Harry noted
Secretary Whipple was also present, in addition to the Secretary for the
Department of International Magical Cooperation, Jeanabella Rosewood and one of
the International Confederation of Wizards ambassadors, Rupert Scrimgeour, the
former Minister for Magic's son. Ron, of course, was not only an Auror, but he
was also the Assistant Director for the Death Eater Division; with Ron there,
that likely meant one of two things: first, one or more broke out of Azkaban,
which hadn't happen once under Shacklebolt's administration, or second, they
found another one on the run or in hiding.
"Harry, I was just telling Secretary Whipple that we have a bit of an
international incident on our hands."
Harry was not expecting that. "What kind of incident, sir?"
"As you're aware, before the real fighting began in the war, Voldemort sent one
of his Death Eaters as an emissary to the United States, a wizard by the name
of Seward Roscoe."
Harry nodded, familiar with the report. Roscoe was accompanied by Thorkel
Rowle, Thorfinn Rowle's brother, and the two were supposed set up some sort of
fifth column group in the States. After Voldemort had cemented power, the
group, known as the Death Bringers, would rise up under Roscoe's leadership and
welcome the Dark Lord as they conquered the United States in his name.
"Our friends across the pond have a definitive lock on his headquarters.
Talking with the secretaries and our ambassador, who has an offer from the
Assistant Secretary of the Magical Regulation Agency to allow for a joint
arrest, the decision has been made to send a team and make this capture with
the Americans. Can you two gather your partners together and meet Swan's team
outside Secretary Rosewood's office in twenty?"
"Of course, Minister," Harry said, slightly taken aback at the speed at which
this operation was moving. Harry and Ron stood, shook Kingsley's hand, and
returned to the party to find Peter Churchmore and Mackenzie Hensbolm, Harry
and Ron's respective Auror partners. Normally, in a standard or even medium
level situation, Harry would dispatch a team or two of Auror Third or Second
Classes. But this…this was a whole different situation. An international and
high-value target required the best the Auror Office could provide. Harry, Ron,
and their partners were just that.
***** Interlude: The X-Rated Pensieve, Part Two *****
Whenever Harry went on one of his Ministry trips, usually to capture a Dark
Wizard or investigate an improper use of magic with members of the Office of
the same name, Charlie found himself alone in the house, only with Hunna up
until recently. While Hunna was sweeter to Charlie, she was still an owl and
provided little for real company. To make matters worse, Charlie's libido
always worsened, as he and Harry engaged in regular activity at least every
other day, if not more. With these Ministry trips, Harry was usually gone for
anywhere from five days to two weeks.
Some time back, the dragon tamer found a source to help with this constant
dilemma. When Harry and Hermione were working on the memoir one day, Harry had
called Charlie to retrieve one of his memory vials from the basement. Confused
at first, Charlie performed the knocking-trigger on the otherwise-breaker box
and found himself literally surrounded by the mind and history of Harry Potter.
Charlie quickly located the vial, dated June 20, 1997, with a green box beneath
it with a black slash through it, and a title beneath that read 'The Horcrux
Cave.' Since then, Charlie has become more and more familiar with the archive,
refusing to peer too much into Harry's past as his husband had entrusted the
knowledge of the room to him not to snoop, but to share that it existed.
Charlie, however, couldn't help himself on occasion, and peered into moments he
found were designated as moments of normalcy, or as he found out, Harry's
favorite moments. Charlie found a moment when, while the trio was hunting for
Voldemort's horcruxes, Harry and Hermione shared a dance to the staticy music
coming from a wireless. Based on the emotions, it appeared that this had been a
long-needed moment for the duo.
But happy moments weren't all Charlie peered into as he quickly discovered the
rarer, yet equally peculiar red boxes with hot pink outlines. The first one
Charlie found had the title 'First Time' beneath it and instantly Charlie knew
what those symbols meant: sex. Considering that the date read 1995, in which
Harry was only 14, Charlie only took a brief peek at the memory, finding that
Harry's first time had actually been Cedric Diggory—during one of their many
discussions, the topic of 'first times' had come up and Harry had been
forthcoming with the truth. Charlie found that most of the symbols were dated
after 2001, the year in which he and Harry became a couple.
But a few existed prior, one of them Harry and Ron's first, and only he
presumed, wanking session together. It had been in their third year, sometime
in October by the look of the grounds, and Harry and Ron had stowed themselves
away in their dormitory, exploring only their own bodies but finding it more
erotic to do it next to another person. As it turned out, however, three more
existed after that and the Diggory few. In October 1999 through the early
months of 2000, Harry and Oliver Wood had what only could be classified as a
'friends with benefits' relationship. Their first post-war meeting on October
16, 1999, as the label read, though there was another date, 10/15, in
parenthesis superscripted above it, was Charlie's favorite:
"Harry, I got 'em!" Ron cried as his face appeared over Harry's cubicle. At the
Auror Office, Ron and Harry shared a cubicle next to each other, as neither of
them were yet Auror First Classes yet, where they'd get their own office.
"Got what, Ron?" Harry said irritably, more frustrated about the case before
him. He looked up at his friend, a frown decorating his face. "This better not
be another Death Eater false alarm."
Ron shook his head, Harry's frown undeterring the wide grin across his face.
"Not Death Eaters, Harry. Cannons."
Harry's expression immediately changed into confusion. "What are you going on
about, Ron?"
"Harry, I got tickets for the Cannons game tomorrow."
Now he understood and he smiled back at his best mate. "How many'd you get?"
"Just two. Thompson sold 'em to me…apparently he has to stay home with one of
his kids, tomorrow…something about an allergic reaction to their puffskein.
Anyways, you wanna' go?"
Harry nodded eagerly, seeing this as a chance to escape the grim case he'd been
burying his head with for the last month. He'd been assigned a serial killer
case involving the Death-Cap Draught and so far the leads were slim. "Who're
they playing?"
"Puddlemere."
"Then it should be a good match. I'll be at yours around five then?"
Ron nodded, slipping back down and into his seat.
Suddenly, the scene changed and Harry and Ron had just flashed their tickets to
gain entrance to the stadium.
"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley," came a familiar voice. It was Secretary Whipple, who
was walking with a younger man that all too resembled the older head of the
Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Harry and Ron shook their upper boss'
hand. "Lads, this is my son, Kenneth." They also exchanged shakes, the son
making note that 'Kenny' would suffice.
"How are you, sir?" Harry asked his boss' boss.
"Fine, fine. Looking forward to the match, I must say. Kenneth here is treating
his old man tonight. Ne'er seen Puddlemere in person before. I'm from River
Piddle, you know."
"No, sir," Ron said, forcing a smile now that he knew they were here tonotroot
for the Cannons.
"Hopefully," Whipple junior began, "we have a nice clean match. Rather not get
caught in another riot." Kenneth Whipple was, of course, referring to the riot
a few weeks back after Puddlemere's new Chaser, Wilda Griffiths, disappeared
during a match against her former teammates, the Holyhead Harpies—back when
Ginny was still on the team.
"Here's hoping, Secretary," Harry said and with a nod Harry and Ron went off to
find their seats, as did the Whipples.
Once again the scene changed and Harry was shown cheering as Oliver Wood,
Puddlemere's reserve keeper, was put into the match when the primary keeper was
knocked out cold by a Bludger—Seamus Wadcock, grandson of Puddlemere's
legendary Chaser, took the angry ball square into the stomach after it had been
beaten full force his way.
"Great," Ron remarked, "now the Cannons'll never score."
Harry smirked, rather just enjoying seeing their former house Quidditch
Captain.
The scene shifted to the post-game and Harry and Ron were making their way
through the stadium to find their portkey. "Harry Potter?" came an unfamiliar
voice.
Harry turned to find a black-haired man, likely in his forties, looking at him.
"Who's asking?" Ron said, his wrist ready to thrust his wand into his hand in
an instant.
"Deverill," said the man, thrusting a hand forward, "Philbert Deverill."
"As in the manager of Puddlemere United?" Ron asked.
"The one and only," said the man.
Ron shook the man's hand first, Harry following suit.
"I hear you're something of a Seeker, Mr. Potter," Deverill said. "Something of
a Captain in your day as well, I hear."
"I was alright. I had a great team to work with," Harry said, looking at Ron.
"Ah, yes, Mr. Weasley. You were Mr. Potter's Keeper, correct?"
Ron grudgingly nodded, irritated at being known as 'Potter's Keeper' rather
than 'Gryffindor's.'
"Any chance I can 'suade you to give up that foolishness at the Ministry and
come and join the team?" Deverill asked.
Harry shook his head, trying to keep his manners in place despite his
increasingly seething best mate.
"Damn. Well, how 'bout you meet the team. Maybe change your mind," Deverill
said with a wink. "I believe you already know our reserve Keeper."
Harry looked at Ron, who reluctantly gave a sight nod. "Sounds great." Deverill
smiled, pleased that hemaybe able to snag the infamous Harry Potter onto his
team. The three men headed towards a flight of stairs that was guarded by a
rather large wizard dressed in all back with the letter H-I-T across his shirt.
Nodding at Philbert Deverill, he moved aside to allow them to pass and within a
few moments, after a few corners and narrow hallways, the three men found
themselves in the 'Away' locker room; they were, after all, playing in Chudley.
As they walked in, it appeared the coach had just finished his post-win speech.
"Lads," Deverill began as they walked into the main space of the locker room,
"This is Harry Potter and his friend, Mr. Weasley." Some of the men stopped to
give Harry and Ron a nod, while the others, mostly the least dressed ones,
carried on about their business. Deverill turned to Harry and said, "Harry—can
I call you Harry—I'd like you to meet someone. Benjy!"
The Seeker and Captain of Puddlemere United, Benjy Williams, garbed only in his
Quidditch pants, walked out from the sink area and greeted Harry and Ron with a
smile before shaking their hands. "Heard about ya' both," Benjy began, his
Scottish accent clearly noticeable as it was even thicker than Oliver Wood's.
"Oh?" Ron said, surprised that he'd actually been recognized by the Captain of
a very prestigious Quidditch team.
"Yeah. Wood doesn't shut up about his Gryffindor days sometimes. Only good
things about you two, of course. And yer' brothers, Weasley," he said.
"Yeah, they were quite a pair," Ron said, his enthusiasm dropping slightly.
"Oh yeah, sorry to hear," Benjy corrected, remembering what Wood had told him
about Fred's death.
"S'alright," Ron said, nodding.
"I assume Deverill brought ya' hear for a reason then?" Benjy said, scowling at
the older man.
"Well, Benjy, you had been talking about retiring in a few seasons and I
thought—"
"What?" Benjy said, clearly irritated. "That Potter here could replace me then?
No offense, Potter, but ne'er e'en seen ya' play."
"None taken," Harry said with a laugh.
"Why dun't ya' let me handle the real recruitin', Deverill. Besides, Wood's
already werkin' with the new reserve."
Embarrassed now, Deverill made a face at Benjy Williams before saying, "I'll
leave you to it then…Captain." Taking his leave, Harry and Ron were now left
awkwardly alone with the entire Puddlemere team, 14 men who were all proud
they'd just beaten Ron's favorite team.
"Ron?" came a familiar voice. "I thought that was you," Oliver said, walking up
to his fellow Gryffindor and giving him a tight embrace, though not too tight
as he was clad with nothing but a towel around his waist. "I'd recognize that
Weasley hair anywhere."
"Congratz', Oliver," Ron said with a forced smile. Oliver smirked, knowing he
didn't entirely mean that.
"Thanks—Harry? Merlin, you've grown," he said, motioning with his hand about
how high he remembered Harry being that last they saw.
"Hey, Oliver," Harry said, giving an awkward wave as he was clearly
blushing—Oliver had maturedwell.
Oliver turned to his former teammate and gave the same hug to Harry that he had
to Ron. "What're you all doing 'ere?"
"Deverill brought 'em in," Benjy said, rolling his before turning to the
benches and began to strip his pants, only feet away so he was still involved
in the conversation.
"He didn't try to recruit you guys, did he?" Oliver asked.
"Only Harry," Ron blurted.
"Wanker," Oliver swore. "Don't let him get ya' down, Ron, you've got the goods,
too."
"Thanks," Ron said, perking up a bit.
"Hey, do you guys fancy a drink?" Oliver said. "Some 'a the mates and I are
going to the Goblin's Tap in a few. Be nice to catch up," he said, looking
between the two of them.
Harry looked at Ron again for his opinion. "I have time foronedrink," Ron
specified. "I have to be at mum's early tomorrow."
Harry nodded, knowing that Molly expected Ron and Hermione to come over and
look over wedding preparation pieces—the two were engaged to wed in a few
months' time.
"Splendid," Oliver said. "Lemme' just dress and we'll head over together."
The Auror-pair nodded and took their leave to wait outside the locker room.
The scene dissolves again and resolves to the Goblin's Tap, the famous
wizarding pub in Chudley; the pub only serves mead and a variety of goblin
drinks that are safe for wizards' consumption. Harry, Ron, and the players were
sitting at a long table, Harry on the end, Ron next to him and Oliver across
from Harry, Benjy next to him.
"Alright, I've already had more than I came for," Ron finally said, placing his
second empty Ragnuk Rum glass on the table next to its predecessor.
"Maybe you should floo home, Ron," Harry said, still fully attuned to reality
as he'd only had a mug of mead while he was there.
"Pra…prolly right…Harry," Ron attempted. "Stron…strong stuff," Ron said,
drunkenly pointing at the glasses.
Smirking, Harry helped Ron up and they walked over to the fireplace. Grabbing a
handful of powder, Harry clearly stated Ron's address and threw the powder into
the fireplace. Ron stumbled into the green flames and Harry was left now with
just the Puddlemere team, most of whom were increasingly getting wilder as they
drank themselves deeper from their victory; even Benjy Williams had started to
join some of the craziness.
"Harry?" Oliver said after the former Gryffindor sat back down, removing his
first mug of Borgrok's Beer from his face.
"He'll be alright," Harry replied.
"Oh. Not that but glad to hear," Oliver said with a smile. "I actually just
remembered…"
"Mmm?" Harry noised through a sip of his golden mead.
"I left something back in the locker room…you wanna' run back with me to get
it?"
"Oh, sure," Harry said.
"Splendid," Oliver said, taking his last sip of beer, though slightly choking
from the kick Benjy gave him; the Captain knew what was about to transpire.
The two men got up, Oliver and Benjy exchanging a quick look before Harry and
his former Captain disapparated, reappearing in the front of the now dark
locker room—Oliver could access the room until tomorrow's midday until security
enchantments kicked back in, put in place to prevent players and staff from
interfering with future teams who would occupy the room.
Oliver scuffed his shoe and instantly the locker room lit up. It still had that
post-Quidditch game smell: sweat, body odor, body maskers, soap, leather,
leather oil, and broom cleaner. The two men moved into the main space, Harry
following his elder, though not to Oliver's locker, rather to the shower room.
Unsuspectingly, as he'd never seen the layout of the locker room, Harry rounded
the corner only to be shoved against the damp tile wall and a fervent pair of
lips to be forced onto his.
Harry, refusing to question what was transpiring, instantly opened his mouth,
allowing that eager tongue entrance. It was warm and slick, coated with an
unfamiliar taste that must have been the goblin-beer. Harry delighted in the
feeling of the stiffer ridges of buds on the underside of Oliver's tongue as
the muscle passed over his. Oliver's hands were stuffed into thick strands and
clumps of Harry's naturally messy raven hair, their fingers pulling and
threading through it while Harry only lightly gripped Oliver's hips.
"Merlin," Oliver finally said, breaking their kiss and looking into Harry's
flustered face, the Keeper's face just the same, lips wet with Harry's saliva.
"I know," Harry only said, moving a hand to the middle of Oliver's back to pull
him forward into another kiss after waving his hand over his face to make his
glasses disappear. This time Harry became more engaged, his own tongue slipping
next to Oliver's and into the older man's mouth, feeling up his teeth and the
roof of his mouth. Oliver moved his hand to Harry's shoulders, discreetly de-
robing the smaller man.
"Mmmph," Oliver groaned, thrusting into Harry, their jean-covered erections
making the friction extra rough.
"Hahhh," Harry gasped, the back of his head thudding against the tile. Oliver
instantly moved southward with his lips, first to Harry's lower lip, then his
chin, and finally to the nape of his neck, where his lips almost stuck to the
exposed skin. The wet kiss trail quickly became delightfully cold while his
neck could do nothing but get hotter from the pulling and the suction and even
the nipping.
Oliver finally pulled back and grabbed the base of his sweater and lifted it
over Harry's head, exposing the former Gryffindor's hairy torso. "Fuck," Oliver
gasped as he laid eyes on the exposed Seeker.
Harry smirked up at him, the previous nerves he had once had in these
situations nearly diminished. He was confidant now and he knew what he wanted.
And what he wanted at that very moment was Oliver shirtless right along with
him, which Harry made happen as he forced his lips upon Oliver's, tugging and
pulling on Oliver's robe and shirt, breaking their rough kiss only once as the
burgundy article passed up between them.
Oliver pushed Harry back against the clearly wet and cold tile, their lips
still ravishing the other's. Oliver's hands were now separated, one behind
Harry's neck while the other was doing its best to force its way into the front
of Harry's jeans. Harry was desperately clinging to Oliver's lower back, his
hands moving and rubbing in a subconscious fashion.
"Oliv—ah!" Harry gasped as Oliver's hand finally made it behind Harry's black
trunks to grip the overside of Harry's burning erection. Skillfully jerking the
member, Oliver moved his tongue and teeth to Harry's ear, eliciting another
moan from his former teammate.
"Merlin, Harry…you're so hot," Oliver said, using his free hand to pull their
hips tightly together, which Harry eagerly thrust into the older man. Harry
only moaned, his eyes focused on the large light above the shower room. "Need
teh' taste you." Harry only nodded and he suddenly felt the three buttons on
his jeans being quickly undone. Oliver knelt down and Harry followed the top of
the light brunette's head. Oliver pulled Harry's jeans and knickers down to his
mid-thighs, Harry's red erection popping up. Not giving a second, Oliver leaned
forward and took Harry's uncut cock between his lips, his ever eager tongue
slathering the underside of the red member.
"Fuck, Oliver…" Harry breathed out, his head falling back again as one of his
hands gripped tightly through his own hair, the other moving to Oliver's.
Oliver wasted no time and began bobbing his head, a hand gripping Harry's hairy
thigh and the other feeding through the thick hair on Harry's abdomen. "Ahh,
Merlin!" Harry cried out as Oliver suddenly took his whole length in, the head
of his cock being constricted by Oliver's tight throat.
Repeating this a second time, Harry almost came and reluctantly pulled Oliver's
mouth from his cock and replaced his member with his lips. The two kissed
furiously, Harry tasting a hint of his own bitter and salty cum over Oliver's
tongue. "I want you,"kiss, "inside,"kiss, "me," Harry finally said, Oliver
subsequently nodding.
"Nnnngh," Oliver moaned against Harry's lips before pulling back and stripping
himself of his own jeans and knickers. Harry lightly double slapped his arse,
the cheek he touched briefly glowing the recognizable dim white light as he
wordlessly and wandlessly performed theLubrication Charmhe learned years ago on
himself. "You ready?"
Harry nodded and waited as Oliver placed his arms under Harry's armpits,
allowing the smaller man to hop up and place his arms around Oliver's neck
while simultaneously wrapping his legs around the Keeper's waist. With Harry
braced against the wall and nicely clung to his body, Oliver leaned in to steal
more of Harry's tongue as he took his own dick into his hand. Gripping it
firmly, Oliver pushed up and forward while simultaneously lowering Harry down,
his dick pushing into Harry, meeting minimal resistance.
"Merlin, Harry," Oliver breathed as he seated Harry fully around him.
Harry only willed his clenched eyes to relax, his chin resting on Oliver's
shoulder. This was a lot more painful than he remembered from last time—either
that or, as it was more likely, Oliver was much bigger than Cedric.
"You okay?" Oliver asked, feeling Harry's body tense against his own.
"You're just…ugh…you're just really thick," he finally said, pulling his head
back and smirking at Oliver.
Oliver let out a laugh and kissed Harry lightly. "You just tell me when, okay."
Harry nodded and placed his chin back on Oliver's shoulder. After only a brief
moment, Harry finally said, "Okay."
"You're sure?"
"Move, Wood," Harry said, laughing to himself internally at the little
inappropriate pun.
Oliver pulled back slowly before pushing in again, soon finding a reasonably
medium speed for the pace. Harry just breathed heavily into Oliver's ear, a
short grunt or moan escaping once and a while, his arms tightening around the
Keeper when he did. Oliver grunted more often, more so at the weight on his
back Harry would realize later.
After the speed had evolved into faster thrusting, Oliver finally grunted out,
"Harry…gotta' switch." Harry nodded and Oliver let Harry down, Oliver arching
his back and it cracked. "You're not as light as you used to be," Oliver said,
winking.
"I amnotfat," Harry said warningly.
"No," Oliver began, placing his hand on the very light newly forming definition
on Harry's abdomen, "you're just right. Now turn around."
Turned on by the more authoritative tone, Harry complied and faced the tiled
wall that his back had only just been up against. Oliver stepped behind him,
his erection pressed firmly against his lower back. He wrapped his arms around
Harry's abdomen, one of his hands stroking Harry's erection, his lips on one of
Harry's cheeks. Oliver walked them back a few steps before releasing Harry and
forcing him to bend over, the latter's arms stretching out to brace himself
against the wall, his body just slightly inclined to be parallel with the tiled
floor. Again, without giving a second, Harry became filled, this time in a
single push. Harry grunted, this position, for one reason or
another,muchbetter.
Harry turned his head and looked up past Oliver's defined pecks, which were
covered lightly in a naturally-kept patterned hair, and into his eyes. "Fuck
me, Oliver," Harry said confidently. Placing his hands on Harry's arse, and
with a single thrust, Harry turned back around, his head dropping from the
immense pleasure that swarmed his body.
"Like that, Potter?" Oliver said, smirking.
"That…was it," Harry breathed.
Grinning even wider, Oliver pulled back and slammed into the spot again, this
time not stopping as he fucked Harry's willing, giving, and accepting arse.
"Merlin, Harry," Oliver said after a few minutes, "you should see yourself."
But Harry was no longer listening as he was enraptured by the numbing pleasure
stemming from the mashing of his prostate. By now he was meeting Oliver's every
thrust, or rather trying to as some of the older man's thrusts were far too
good.
After what seemed to have carried on for nearly half an hour, Oliver reached
around and gripped Harry's now delightfully aching erection. With only a few
well-timed thrusts and jerks, Harry cried out as the pressure that had been
building finally released. Thick white cum first spilled over Oliver's hand
before it began to burst and spew onto the floor beneath them. Triggered by the
arse constriction around the base of his cock, as well as a few more thrusts,
Oliver hunched over, his chest meeting Harry's back and his arms wrapping
tightly around Harry's torso as he came deep within the welcoming warmth.
"Harry!" Oliver cried with the first spurt. "Fuck…so good!"
Harry continued to breathe heavily, subconsciously still pushing back into
Oliver's dying thrusts as the former Seeker brought Oliver through his orgasm.
Soon, Oliver stilled but for the beating of his heart and the uneven breathing
against Harry's shoulder. Oliver's grip around Harry's torso loosened some and
the smaller man soon found that Oliver's weight was becoming too much to handle
with his weakened state.
"Oliv…Oliver," Harry breathed out through struggled pants, "I don't think…I can
hold us up for…" Harry couldn't finish the sentence but Oliver nodded knowingly
against Harry's sweat-slickened back. At first, Oliver only reached one of his
arms out, placing his hand next to Harry's, his other arm now holding Harry up
as the raven haired man dropped his arms. But after only another moment Oliver
pulled himself up, Harry along with him so that they were both vertical once
again. Oliver pulled out of Harry's arse and pulled Harry into him, turning his
head so they could share a passionate yet less fervent kiss.
Harry's drier tongue met Oliver's, their sticky lips met in a perpendicular-
fashion. Oliver rubbed his hand along Harry's arched torso while Harry gripped
the strong broom-grip-defined thighs behind him. Oliver was the first to break
the kiss and he looked drearily into Harry's eyes.
"I just have one question," Oliver said.
Both Harry's eyebrows rose expectantly.
"Can we do this again? And soon?"
Harry grinned widely and placed a light kiss on Oliver's lips. "What's your
schedule for the week?"
Oliver smiled back at him and took another dive into Harry's mouth.
Charlie found himself back in reality, cum dripping down the front of the
pensieve in their basement. Watching Harry and Oliver go at it was Charlie's
porn, and he knew it. Charlie looked down at his erection and sighed, the
absence of Harry setting in far too soon. Charlie waved his wand twice, once at
the pensieve and the second over his cock, cleaning both of the cum that
covered them. Charlie dipped the vial into the pensieve and it quickly refilled
it with the recently poured memory. Placing it back where he found it, Charlie
left the archive and ascended the stairs to return to work, which consisted of
filling out paperwork about Gringotts' new dragon that was being shipped in
from the east—Charlie was one of the tamers responsible for helping move it
into and securing it within Gringotts safely.
***** Death Bringers of the West, Part One *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
May 3, 2008; The Ministry of Magic
Harry and Ron found Charlie and Hermione speaking with Barnabas Cuffe, the
editor-in-chief of the Daily Prophet. Charlie, who was clearly bored and only
Hermione's escort, caught sight of Harry and Ron first. "Hey, what's going on,
love?" Charlie said, noting the displeasure in his husband's face.
"Ron?" Hermione said after hearing Charlie, turning to face her own husband.
"We, err," Harry began, "have to go on an emergency trip." Charlie's expression
of curiosity immediately turned to a frown. "I'm sorry, Char—" Harry tried to
say before Charlie planted a light kiss.
"I know," Charlie said in a forgiving tone. "I get it," he said, forcing a
smile.
"When will you be back?" Hermione asked the pair, grabbing onto Ron's arm.
"Not sure," Ron admitted. "We have to go tonight, too. In just a few minutes,
actually," Ron added, looking at his watch.
"Damn," Charlie swore.
Harry placed both hands on Charlie's shoulders, one moving to rub his chest in
consolation. "Can you do me a favor?"
"Hmm?" Charlie snorted.
"Can you stay with your brother while we're gone? With Bill?"
Charlie's eyebrow raised. "Yeahhh…whyyy?"
"And um, try to go out as little as possible. Even to the Ministry. Just…as a
precaution, yeah?"
"Now you're worrying me, Harry. What's going on?"
But Hermione jumped in, knowing more even though she didn't know the details.
"I'll explain at the house," she said, opening her arm for Charlie to take her
elbow.
"And 'Mione," Ron said, "take the kids and stay with mum."
She nodded.
"Either of you know where Peter or Mack are?" Harry asked.
"Peter's talking to Perce, I think," Hermione said.
"And Mack is by the Hors d'oeuvre table, of course," Charlie added, pointing
towards the heavy bloke munching on a bit of crumpet with a sort of relish
sauce on it.
"Thanks," Ron said. "We gotta' go, then," he said, kissing Hermione as
passionately as public-norms would allow. Harry nodded at Charlie and they too
followed suit in kissing. The couples broke apart and Harry went off to grab
Peter Churchmore and Ron went to nab Mackenzie Hensbolm. Harry looked back as
he moved through the crowds, watching Hermione politely excuse her and Charlie
from their already interrupted conversation with Cuffe and move them towards
the floo exits.
"Peter," Harry said, tapping his field-partner on the shoulder.
"Harry," Peter said, happy to see his partner made it to the event.
"Code 14," Harry said after leaning in, whispering the alarming words. "Ten
minutes, before Rosewood's office." Peter nodded and he and Harry took off
towards their respective offices, Harry's the largest within his division.
Harry soon found himself undressing from his black dress robes and into his
black custom dragon eggshell-shirt and black jeans, placing his dark brown
trench coat over it all. He rolled up his coat sleeve and strapped on his wand-
guard around his long sleeve before slipping his wand into the holster. Harry
also grabbed four scarlet golf ball-size spheres out of a locked drawer, as
well as a satchel of WWW Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, placing both in the
right pocket—the pockets of Auror coats, as well as hit wizards', have only two
pockets, the left enchanted the way Harry's Hagrid-given moleskin pouch was
(only the owner can retrieve items from within), while the right enchanted the
way Hermione's bag was during the horcrux hunt (with the Undetectable Extension
Charm). Harry reached into a different drawer, hidden with an enchantment in
the side of his desk, and he retrieved the enchanted knife his godfather had
given him, which he had been able to repair with the Elder Wand. He sheathed
the knife into its holster, which hung along Harry's left thigh. Adjusting his
glasses, Harry walked out of his office to find Ron just about to knock on it.
"Ready?" Ron asked, all set as well, the deluminator he inherited from
Professor Dumbledore likely stowed away in the left side of his trench coat.
Harry nodded and as the pair began to make their way to the Department of
International Magical Cooperation Churchmore joined them, lastly followed by
the slower Hensbolm. Taking the elevator to the appropriate level, the four
Aurors found Swan and his team of six fellow hit wizards all ready to go,
standing there with the Minister for Magic. "Potter," Shacklebolt began, "I
wish you and your team good luck." Shacklebolt handed Harry a small light-
violet envelope: the official mission briefing conducted by the Minister
himself. They shook hands and Kingsley held out the portkey, wrapped in
plastic. It was an eagle shaped statuette, looking to be coated with fake
bronze.
The ten men gathered around Harry, being sure to firmly touch or grip a piece
of his clothing. Harry nodded to the Minister before reaching between the
plastic and took hold of the portkey, instantly warping between space until all
eleven men were lightly jettisoned into the lobby of what appeared to be a
hotel. All having landed on their feet, they looked around to find one Muggle
in the lobby who had their back to them and was speaking on the phone. Hensbolm
walked up to the counter and double tapped the desk bell, no one at the service
desk. Within a few seconds, a black Muggle woman came out from the back and
eyed the strangely garbed men with suspicion.
"Can I help you?" she said with a southern accent, her hand reaching under the
counter to hover over the panic button.
"Actually," Harry said, stepping up next to Ron's partner, "we're looking for
one of your guests. Do you have a 'Reid Shallows' staying with you?" Harry
smiled at her, hoping his charm, manners, and accent would win the clerk over.
Succeeding, the woman looked into the monitor of the computer as she typed
away, the distinctive pressing of the 'Enter' button telling to Harry's ears.
"Sorry, hon," she said, looking back up at Harry, "no guests under that name."
Unsure of the next move, the elevator dinged and a man about Harry and Ron's
age stepped off the elevator. Topped with short shaggy white-blond hair and
garbed in a white dress shirt and black slacks and tie, he smiled as he spotted
Harry and Ron. "Ahh, look what the cat finally dragged in," he said, his more
northern American accent distinguished from the clerk's.
"You know these men, Mr. Richards?" she asked, taken aback.
"I do. Associates from across the pond, Jasmine," Reid replied. "Have a good
afternoon." The group walked up to the elevators and Reid waved his hand, both
elevators dinging and opening and the group split into both. "Seventh floor,
boys," Reid announced. The elevator closed after he punched the '7' button.
"How was the flight, Harry?"
"You should address the Director as 'sir' or Mr. Potter," Swan said, the taller
man turning to face the American.
"Who's the stiff?" Reid said, aghast at the over use of 'proper discourse.'
"It's alright, Belenus," Harry said, nodding to his subordinate, "Reid and I go
back to my first year at the Ministry."
"Sorry, sir," Belenus Swan said, mostly to Harry.
"Not at all," Harry encouraged. Turning back to Reid, Harry answered the
American's question, "It was good if you're really interested."
"I'm not," Reid said, nudging Harry's elbow. "And how 'bout you, sunspot, how's
the misses treatin' ya'?"
Ron turned to Reid with a grin; Reid's personality reminded him of the twins on
their best days. "Can't complain. Just had a newborn, wanna' see?" Ron said,
making to reach in his pockets.
"Ugh not baby pictures," Reid groaned, eliciting the reaction Ron had hoped
for.
"How 'bout you, 'cowboy?'" Ron said, doing his best at an American accent.
"How's Terry?"
Reid shook his head, Harry and Ron unsure if it was at the use of the
stereotype or the failed attempt at the accent—or both—and said, "He's good.
Might have to join us at some point if you boys aren't careful." Reid was
committed to the exceptional healer, Terrance Bicknell, whom Reid had known
since his second year at Blixthorn Academy; Terry occassionally worked for the
Magical Regulation Agency, acting as an emergency healer for the task force.
Ron rolled his eyes at the jab at their performance abilities, turning to face
the door again just as the elevator stopped at the seventh floor. The whole
group reconvened and Reid led them to Room 707, which he promptly unlocked with
the wave of his hand. They piled in and found that the room was much larger
than your average hotel room, rather five times the size. The room was also
protected with the Anti-Intruder Jinx, as well as the Intruder, Muffliato, and
Protego Horribilis charms. "Welcome to the Griffin's Nest," Reid said after
they were all inside. The eleven Brits immediately began to greet each of
Reid's team of 15 other witches and wizards, bringing the total of people in
the room to 27.
After everyone settled, Reid gathered them around in a bunch and began the
briefing. "For those who don't know, I'm Reid Shallows, Task Force Chief
involving all incidents surrounding the Death Bringers. We're joined today by
our British friends, two esteemed gentlemen in our midst as we have it. Ron
Weasley, here, is an Auror First Class and Assistant Director for the Death
Eater Division—probably the Ministry equivalent to my job." Ron gave a wave and
the room gave a quick clap. "Harry Potter, as you all know, has a long history
with the fallen Dark Lord and is currently the Director for the Auror Office,
so we're blessed with his personal presence and he'll be overseeing the
operations for what we hope will only be the next couple days." Harry nodded
and the applause for Harry was just as Ron's. "So if everyone's ready, we'll
get started with the full briefing."
Chapter End Notes
     Unlike Charlie Weasley with Simon Woods, Reid Shallows was much
     easier to visualize with an actor. Reid is actually based on Toby
     Hemingway's portrayal of the character Reid Garwin in Renny Harlin's
     2006 The Covenant and would ideally look very similar to him.
***** Death Bringers of the West, Part Two *****
May 3, 2008; Sterling Resorts ~ Sea Breeze, Biloxi, MS
After Reid Shallows finished the pre-op briefing, Harry dismissed his men,
except for Ron, to their rooms, requesting their presence in Harry's room in 20
minutes.
"Quite an operation you have," Harry said after Swan closed the door behind
them.
Reid only shrugged. "Another day of work I suppose."
"Your careless attitude doesn't suit you, Shallows," Ron began, "especially
given the target." Ron, of course, was talking not just about Seward Roscoe,
but about Reid's cousin—third cousin to be exact—as well. Reid and Donovan
Shallows had attended Blixthorn Academy together, and though they were family
and shared multiple interests in classes, Donovan had been placed into the
Pyrrhos house, the Blixthorn house that turned out more Dark Wizards than any
of its other four. During the Shallows' seventh year, Roscoe and his men had
infiltrated the school in an attempt to steal an undetermined item from the
tower's vaults. Despite their unsuccessful attempt, Donovan saw Roscoe as an
idol rather than an enemy and after graduating, joined his forces, despite the
Dark Lord's demise only a month before Donovan's finish.
Reid, on the other hand had joined the Department of Magic's Magical Regulation
Agency (MRA), which was the entire body that consisted of all magical law
enforcement personnel and operations. The 'Lightning King,' as Donovan had
dubbed his cousin due to the former's common use of the Lightning Curse, rose
to become one of the most successful duelists the Agency had seen in years
until Reid was appointed task force head of Operation: Hercules—the directive
to cut off every head of Roscoe's 'hydra' and ultimately slay the 'beast.'
Reid gave Ron a threatening look before saying, "I'm 'supposed to be as
impartial and objective as possible for the sake of the mission,' imitating
some authority of his.
"Good luck with that," Harry teased.
Scowling, Reid turned to the cork-board filled with layout plans, presupposed
scenarios, routes, and photos.
"So this is where you think Roscoe is?" Harry said, pointing at a glowing red
room on the layout of the building under surveillance; the team in place
managed to cast a spell inside that revealed the entire layout. The building
had thought to be enchanted from the normal Muggle plans—they were right.
Reid nodded, his arms crossed and one hand up to his face, his thumb and
forefinger lightly pulling at his chin. "I suspect he'll be holed up where as
many of his men can come to his aid as quickly as possible, not to mention be
where he couldn't get hit by any destructive spell from someone on the outside.
Ever since our last run-in with him, the man's been exceptionally paranoid;
which is bad for us."
"So no sightings of Rowle, then?" Ron asked.
"No. And I mean, we do have a body in the morgue that's burnt nearly to a
crisp—we assume whoever it was got caught in one of Roscoe's Fiendfyretraps. We
think it's him since we haven't had a sighting of Rowle in years. And since we
don't have his brother to compare magical auras with, it's not confirmable."
"We are working on that," Ron said, who'd recently been working diligently with
Hensbolm—arguably the Auror Office's greatest detective—to track down the
missing Death Eater.
"No doubt, Weasley," Reid assured, "these Death Eaters—Bringers—whatever…these
bastards are slippery. We caught one of Roscoe's men even making preparations
in New Mexico to take a vanishing portkey to Punta Arenas in Chile."
"Merlin," Harry said, shaking his head. "Any idea what injured Roscoe?" Harry
inquired, referring to the initial-sighting-report claiming that Roscoe had
been limping into the Death Bringers' current lair.
"Not really. Coulda' been anything. The report was pretty vague and I even
debriefed the agent myself. He couldn't recall any blood, strange auras, or
anything sticking out of him. He just said 'limping.' If I had to guess, I'd
say it was something beast-related. Roscoe's healer, whom he keeps close to
him, woulda' been able to patch anything up that we woulda' done."
Harry and Ron nodded almost simultaneously. "Alright, Harry began, "we need to
go brief our men and then we'll catch you for lunch?"
"A sound plan," Reid said with a wink, echoing the annunciation of a Prince
from a Muggle video game. "Oh, by the way, the password for the room is 'house-
elf.'"
Harry nodded and he and Ron excused themselves. "I am not looking forward to
sleeping tonight," Ron said after they got into the hallway.
"Hensbolm?"
Ron sighed frustratingly. "You remember the blast-ended screwt whoopee cushion
George released last year?"
"Yeah."
"It sounds like that."
"Get off it," Harry said, unable to prevent the grin spreading across his face.
"No lie," Ron said as Harry waved his hand at the lock on Room 701. Inside
waiting were Churchmore, Hensbolm, Swan, and his six men—one a woman.
"So let's get to it then," Harry said. "As you're all familiar, with Code 14
missions the Minister himself prefers to brief his team personally. With the
time crunch, Shacklebolt had to do it in letter form so here goes."
===============================================================================
After the briefing-letter, which stressed that the capture of Seward Roscoe was
the number one priority, and that lethal force, while not unacceptable, was
immensely discouraged, Harry's team joined Reid's for lunch around 1:30 at
McAlister's Deli—after changing into Muggle attire of course. During lunch
Harry found out that the clerk that Harry seemed to have charmed believed that
Reid was in fact a man known as Franklin Richards, a high-class lawyer from
Chicago who was politely demanding—if such a things exists—and on a business
trip for a high level murder trial.
As their meal drew to its natural close, Michael Gossard, Reid's field-partner,
alerted everyone that the moment they had been waiting for was upon them much
sooner than expected: Roscoe was preparing to move to a new location, which was
a window that allowed for more multi-tasking, which meant less attentiveness to
security. The two teams hastily rose from their chairs and made their way for
the bathroom, which was around a corner and because the restaurant had a major
lunch-rush, they would be able to apparate to their respective hotel rooms
without notice, which is exactly what happened.
===============================================================================
After properly gearing up, the teams reconvened in Room 707 where they took a
single-passage floo to the staging area that was half a mile from the resort.
The plan before the now 31 member force was to have the four wizards who had
been monitoring the house to begin placing charms over the house to keep anyone
from leaving—even via portkey—something which they'd yet found an opportunity
to do with the number of security. Once the charms were nearly in place, Picard
and Swan's teams would breach the front and rear of the building, followed
closely by the more elite wizards; Janeway's team would remain as exterior
reinforcements in case any tried to escape the sphere of containment on foot or
broom, as well as to deal with any Muggle passerby's, or worse law enforcement.
"Remember the briefing," Harry said to his team as they all concealed
themselves along the back of the house next door to Roscoe's, "keep your eyes
open for traps on the floors and remember that our American friends are
approaching from the opposite side." The team acknowledged Harry's words and
the latter looked into his square of two-way mirror, looking into Reid's face,
awaiting the signal for breach.
Suddenly, an unexpected bang sounded from the side of the house and a voice
cried, "We got company!"
Belenus Swan moved first and stunned the Death Bringer where he stood. The hit
wizards moved in swiftly, Harry and Peter Churchmore behind them, Ron and Mack
Hensbolm bringing up the rear; as they moved to the door Harry caught a glimpse
of char on the grass and an unconscious MRA agent nearby.
As Harry entered the house he found that one of Swan's team was already down,
his front side charred from what was unmistakably the work of one of Roscoe's
infamous Fiendfyre traps. Harry ducked a blue light and reactively fired back a
Blasting Curse. Nearby, Peter was ducked behind the overturned wooden kitchen
table and was hastily digging into his right pocket. Finding what he was
looking for, Peter took one of the same red orbs Harry had in his own pocket
between his thumb and forefinger before squeezing down. It made a light crack
and Peter threw it into the dining room where the largest numbers of Death
Bringers were concentrated in. Harry instantly cast the Shield Charm before him
and not two seconds later did jets of scarlet light rapidly fly all over the
place.
Once they stopped, the fighting seemed to cease. Harry rose from between the
counter-covered cabinets, his shield still before him. "Clear!" Swan cried as
he came in view of the dining room. Harry, watching his step, began to follow
the man and found, as he expected, all of the Death Bringers stunned.
Behind him Harry heard a few separate utterances of "Rennervate" as some of
Swan's unsuspecting team members were hit by the fury of Stunning Spells. Harry
moved off to the left, peering down the hallway to the front door, his wand
raised before him. The hallway was long, as it had the span of both the dining
and living rooms along next to it. However, all Harry saw was Christian Picard,
the leader of Reid's personal hit squad. The man mouthed 'clear' to Harry and
the latter's team began to move toward the front of the house to gather before
the stairs. The main floor of the house was, as they knew, unenchanted; when
they ascended the stair case, that would be when things began to get more
confusing as the second floor was the 'size' of the length of a warehouse.
"Henson told me that the primary entrapment is in place," Reid said to the
group. "No one's going anywhere, 'least not without us knowing about it."
Several of them nodded in acknowledgment. "Everyone ready?"
***** Death Bringers of the West, Part Three *****
"Henson told me that the primary entrapment is in place," Reid said to the
group. "No one's going anywhere, 'least not without us knowing about it."
Several of them nodded in acknowledgment. "Everyone ready?"
Picard took the brave lead up the stairs after Harry handed the man his satchel
of WWW Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder. Picard stopped just so his head was
below visibility to those above, cracked another 'Stun-Ball,' and threw the
powder just before tossing the ball. Protected by the Shield Charm that had
been placed before him by Ron's wand that was attached to the outstretched arm
under Picard's armpit, the Stun-Ball did its magic and rendered those in the
large office-sized room unconscious.
The force gathered into the office, halting before the next phase. Reid pulled
out piece of mirror and double tapped it with his wand. "Monitor 1 and 2," the
blonde whispered into the square, "move into the floor level of the house and
begin Incarcerous proceedings."
"Copy that," came an equally quiet voice.
"Swan," Harry said after Reid nodded to him, "take point."
Belenus Swan nodded and made for the left door way, the path which would
ultimately lead to the north side of the central most room, the one in which
they believed Seward Roscoe was holed up inside. Swan stepped forward and soon
the hit wizard team was making its way down the wide hallway, Harry and Peter
bringing up the rear—Ron and Mack went with Reid's team as Picard lost two of
his men in the initial breach.
As Swan stepped into a large room that had a ceiling worth three flights, a
click sounded from beneath his forward-most foot. Jerking back, expecting
flames to burst before him, nothing came. However, before anyone could analyze
the seemingly faulty trigger, two large acromantulas dropped from the shadowed
ceiling, blocking the team's progress towards the doors leading into the room.
"Move back!" Swan cried as the closer one began to charge.
"Can't!" Harry yelled back, noting the invisible barrier against his body.
Seeing what was before them, he and Peter squeezed through to the front and, in
sync with each other, the two Aurors cried, "Arania Exumei!" Two bursts of
white light struck the two medium-large spiders—as compared to Aragog—and
slammed them both into the wall behind them.
Moving forward into the room, Peter aimed his wand at the disheveled, yet
recovering arachnids and yelled, "Incendio Maxima!" The two acromantulas
instantly set ablaze and a piercing gurgled cry emitted from them as their legs
skittered beneath them as they died in agony.
Swan, having memorized the mazing route to the central room, made his way to
the door on the wall left of where they entered. Proceeding even more
cautiously, eventually the team only ran into three Death Bringers—whom they
easily dispatched—before they came upon a peculiar stone door. Carved into the
white marble was what looked like a three-dimensional Christian angel; beneath
its feet on the baseboard was a lengthy inscription in Greek.
"Sir?" Swan askeked.
As Harry lifted his two-way to ask Reid about the door, the blonde's voice came
through. "Potter, you there?"
"Copy," Harry replied after double tapping the square.
"Are you at the central room, yet?" he whispered.
"We are. We're kind of at a loss, actually." Harry pointed the mirror so it was
parallel to the door, showing Reid the door.
"We have that too. So much for a two-front strategy."
"What do you know?"
"This is Donovan's doing. I'll explain another time but these two doors are
'Hypnos and Thanatos.' The Greek deities of—"
"Sleep and death," Harry finished. Noting Reid's impressed expression, Harry
added, "Ron's wife has had a few rants on mythology and 'it's living magic,'"
he imitated.
"I have to meet this woman, someday," Reid said, "she's right. There's an old
magic on these doors, Potter. Ours reads about slumber, but it mentioned
'eternal slumber' once. Hold the mirror down to the passage so I can read it."
Complying with haste, Harry knelt down and slowly scanned the text with the
mirror, repeating the motions after each of the three line-breaks.
"Shit," Reid exclaimed.
After a few seconds' silence, Harry said, "You wanna' share?"
"That one also used 'eternal slumber' in it, too, which means now I'm stumped."
"Is it possible they're both Hypnos?"
"Highly unlikely. The point is to make two people opening the doors gamble. You
open one, you fall into a deep sleep. The other, you die."
"Great. Any ideas then?"
"Lemme' just think a moment."
Harry nodded and double tapped his wand to the mirror again, essentially
turning off the 'microphone.' "Think there's a way around?" Harry asked Peter
and Swan both.
"We could try and make a diagonal blast," Belenus Swan began, pointing at the
corners of the door, "but without knowing if these doors have some sort of
rebound, or something that would trigger a rebound if we went around, I'm not
sure."
"Fair enough," Harry frustratedly retorted. "If what Reid says is true, that
they're different, and this one turns out to be the sleeper, we should decide
who opens it now. I will do—"
"I would like to volunteer, sir," said Henry Huxterian as he stepped forward, a
hit wizard that has served with Belenus Swan for a number of years now. Harry
nodded at him and gave him a reassuring smile.
"Thank you, Henry," Harry said, looking back at the square-in-hand; Reid still
looked lost in thought, his eyes closed and his mouth soundlessly muttering. He
could also see Ron in the background, talking to the surprisingly still-
standing uninjured Mackenzie Hensbolm; the Auror was not known for his dueling
skills.
"It's your door, Potter," Reid's voice suddenly came through. "You've got
Hypnos. We'll be right over there."
"Copy that," Harry said, slipping the thin square back into his right pocket.
"You ready, Huxterian?"
The red-head, who could very well have been a Weasley, nodded at his superior.
They shifted around and made room for Peter to safely drag the hit wizard's
slumbering body around the corner after the latter opened the door. As the task
force head promised, the American team soon arrived, Ron and Mack ahead of
them.
"Glad you guys had the spiders," Ron mumbled to Harry, noting his
arachnophobia, "we had a rather large fire crab."
"Joy," Harry replied before giving the nod to Huxterian and Peter. The hit
wizard reached forward and pulled. Immediately, his body went limp and fell
into Peter's arms, dragging his limp form around the corner. Swan immediately
grabbed the handle and they pushed forward. Instantly, the fighting broke out
once again. Spells flew in crazed directions, colliding with walls, shields,
and bodies alike. A trio of explosions came from within the door they had just
piled out of, one of the Death Bringers firing the Blasting Curse at Peter as
he bounded forward away from it, colliding with a piece of overturned stone
column after he lunged away from the final blast.
The room was enormous, bigger than the acromantula room Harry and his team had
passed through. Around them was a great manner of Greek columns and snake
designs, a combination design likely of Donovan Shallows and Seward Roscoe's
tastes.
Harry was ducked behind a crate, firing Stunning Spells at a fast pace far
overhead, not even looking where they were aimed. Peter recovered from his
collision and began to do the same. Reid, on the other hand, was making direct
shots at a good number of the Dark Wizards with his Lightning Curse, their
jerking and seizing forms crumbling to the ground in agony.
Suddenly, a heat came close to the team and Harry heard Swan cry out and swear.
Peering from behind the crate, Ron was helping the man take better cover as his
non-wand-wielding forearm had been caught in another Fiendfyre trap. Seeing a
man reach for the 'Thanatos door' parallel to their own entrance, Harry set it
ablaze with the Fire-Making Spell before striking the door with the Blasting
Curse, sending the Death Bringer flying backwards from the forceful recoil.
As Harry had exposed himself, he suddenly cried out in much the same manner
Swan had only seconds ago. "Fugh…fuck…" Harry gasped in sweating agony as he
re-concealed himself behind the crate. Reaching over to his right shoulder, he
found that he was bleeding from a tunnel-like-hole created by the Perfodius
Curse, a bullet-firing-like spell. Applying pressure, knowing that it would do
little to help as the hole would not heal without the counter-curse, which only
a skilled healer could perform, Harry sat there hoping the skirmish would end
soon.
Suddenly, a huge cracking sound filled the room as a yellow-white light
flashed. Reid had cast an intensified version of the Lightning Curse, striking
six of the Death Bringers at once. Gossard, his partner, immediately rose to
cover the blonde with a Shield Charm before disarming and stunning the Death
Bringer that had made to curse at Reid's exposed form.
"Don't move, Roscoe!" Harry heard Ron cry. He peered out from behind the crate
to see Ron standing with his outstretched wand pointed at a hooded man with a
limp; Picard and several of the other hit wizards were also standing with their
wands outstretched at various other targets, some down, others not. Peter
Churchmore muttered 'Rennervate' over Mackenzie Hensbolm's stunned form.
"It's not over yet, Shallows," Roscoe hissed before evilly grinning, his teeth
almost snake-like. Suddenly, the 'Thanatos door' burst off its hinges and seven
Death Bringers poured into the room, making an arch-formation. The central
member was unmasked and topped with a light-dirty blond hair, featuring a blue
misshaped tattoo covering the right side of his face and around his left eye,
which was aberrantly disfigured and dead.
With the arrival of the Dark Wizards' reinforcements, the fighting ensued and
Harry pulled himself back behind the crate before casting a spell over himself
to slow the pumping of his blood, his head instantly becoming light headed from
its effects.
Ron was now dueling Roscoe head on, the revived Hensbolm doing his best to
cover Ron while taking on his own opponent. Reid Shallows was dueling the
unmasked leader of the reinforcements, the Death Bringer giving the task force
head a mighty challenge. Peter was attempting to aid Picard and the remainder
of the standing hit wizards until he was finally disarmed and flung backwards
into the wall, rendering him unconscious. Reid suddenly flew back a few feet,
landing on his back. Gossard was thrown aside and the unmasked man stepped
forward to loom over Reid, his wand pointed square at the blonde.
"You never learn, cousin," Reid said with a smirk before a bright blue light
burst from Reid's thrown-forward hands, slamming into the Death Bringer who had
been identified as Donovan Shallows, the Dark Wizard crashing into the bottom
edge of the high rise above. Quickly picking himself up off the floor, Reid
retrieved his wand and cast and cried, "Fulmen Rumpo!" The same awe-striking
lightning bolts burst from the tip of his wand and struck another eight Death
Bringers, causing most of Roscoe's forces to be defeated.
Reid turned to face Seward Roscoe himself before Ron successfully single-
handedly disarmed the man and tied him up with taut ropes with the Incarcerous
spell. Reid, Ron, and Picard's wands all turned to point at Donovan, who began
to stir from his place atop the rubble on the floor.
"It's over, Donovan," Reid said firmly.
Donovan's torso rose, his arms rising to surrender, a smirk still spread across
his face. "For now, cousin." Immediately, ropes flung from Reid's wand and
wrapped snugly around his third cousin. Reid snapped his fingers and Donovan's
wand flew into the former's hand before he stuffed it into his robes. With Ron,
Picard, Mack, and the standing hit wizards on alert while the remaining Death
Bringers surrendered and dropped their wands, Reid turned and saw the state of
his fallen cohorts. Harry was still losing blood, yet slower than the initial
impact. Swan had a tear-bringing burn on his arm. Churchmore was unconscious
and bleeding from the back of his head. And jointly five of their men were
down, three unconscious and two dead—one from both teams.
Reid reached into his pocket and drew forth his two-way mirror. Double tapping
it with his wand, he spoke into it. "Janeway, come in."
"Copy," Margaret Janeway said.
"Enter the structure and join us in the central room. Send Mobile 1 and 2 back
outside to monitor the skies and maintain the perimeter. Oh, and give a twiddle
to the platinum, would ya'?"
"Copy that, sir," she replied before Reid stuffed the mirror away.
Reid walked over to Ron and muttered something inaudible to him. In seconds,
Ron knelt down next to his best mate and grasped Harry's uninjured shoulder.
"Healer's on the way, mate. You gonna' make it?"
Harry forced a grin and an eye open. "I always do, don't I?"
"Haha, I s'pose you do," Ron replied, giving Harry a bit of a shake. "Rough
one, eh?"
"Close one, more like," Harry replied more seriously.
"Merlin, I dunno' what we'd 'a been able to do if we didn't have Reid. Did you
see him cast those lightning spells? Shit. He was like a thunder cloud."
Harry smirked. "I didn't see him…I was too busy dying and wallowing in self-
pity."
Ron rolled his eyes and laughed. "Back to that again, huh?"
"Tosser," Harry retorted.
"All clear sir?" came Margaret Janeway's voice again, this time from across the
room. The backup team began to move in and bind those Death Bringers still
alive, as well as gather their wands for processing, and likely snapping in the
near-future. After only a moment after Janeway's arrival, the deep violet-
haired Terry Bicknell entered through the same door and walked over to Reid.
Giving his lover a quick peck on the lips for surviving another skirmish, Terry
leaned down to Belenus Swan and drew out his wand.
"Mulceo Ardoro," the quiet-spoken man said after pointing his wand at Swan's
scalded forearm. "Mr. Swan, this will take quite some time to heal," he began
as Swan's scrunched face began to loosen and relax, "but even after it does
you'll have a nasty scar. Be sure to visit St. Mungo's when you return to
Britain; they can provide you with a more long-term relief of pain." The
injured squad leader desperately nodded and Terry smiled softly at him before
standing.
Terry moved to the slumped Peter Churchmore and pulled him forward slightly to
get a look at the unconscious man's bleeding head. "Episkey…Tergeo…" Terry
muttered, the tip of his wand resting on the back of Peter's head. "Reid,"
Terry said after inspecting Peter's neck and spine, "be sure to transport Mr.
Churchmore via conventional means. No teleportation." Reid only nodded.
Finally he walked over to Harry and knelt next to Ron. Lifting Harry's hand
covering his wound, Terry took a closer inspection of the hole. "The Perfodius
Curse," the violet-haired man said, shaking his head. "Mr. Potter, I need you
to bite down on this," Terry said as he retrieved a six-inch wooden stick from
his robes. "If you need to, grasp Mr. Weasley's hand to squeeze…it may help."
Ron nodded at Harry and the latter took his best mate's hand before clamping
his teeth around the stick. Pointing his wand at the still bleeding hole, Terry
firmly said, "Expleo." Instantly Harry's eyes bulged and a pain like he never
felt before overcame him. His eyes began to water as the hole began to sew
itself up like stitching without anesthesia, even the insides getting a
'stitch' over their own. "I apologize, Mr. Potter. These wounds never are fun.
When you get home, don't go to St. Mungo's to have that removed. In two weeks'
time send me an owl and I will personally take that out—the healers there never
have been able to take these out without causing internal bleeding." Harry
released the stick after the pain began to dull and he nodded, the steady flow
of tears ceasing.
Terry went off to look at the other three unconscious hit wizards, having
glance-examined them for any external wounds on his way over to Belenus Swan.
After declaring that they suffered no threatening injuries and that they'd
rouse in a few hours on their own, Terry declared his work done. "Anything
else, Reid?" Terry said, walking over to his partner.
Reid, who had been watching Janeway make bundles of five wizards and send them
off with one of her men via portkey, turned to plant a light kiss on Terry's
cheek. "That should do it, babe," he said with a wink.
"I'll escort you back to the resort and make sure they wake alright."
Reid nodded, turning and watching Ron help Harry off the floor, the latter
still clutching his shoulder, only now just in pain. Margaret Janeway walked
over to Harry as he men carried on and she presented him with an object wrapped
in thick transparent plastic.
"Sir, this is for your prisoner," she said as Harry looked at it. The object
was a broken overhead-fan remote control, white with a few dents and a missing
button that turned the fan itself on.
"Ron, you wanna' do the honors?" Harry asked.
***** Interlude: The X-Rated Pensieve, Part Three *****
A few months before their first wedding anniversary, Charlie was selected for a
restraining team to escort a rogue dragon that had landed in the olive green
waters of the Great Bath in the City of Bath in Somerset; the Norwegian
Ridgeback had been attempting to make its way from its captivity in Romania to
its natural home in the north of Scandinavia. Charlie had been specifically
selected to help return the beast safely to the Romanian reserve unnoticed—the
Ministry was thanking Merlin's entire family that the dragon had set down at
night so only a few Muggles noticed.
Because Charlie was returning to the place he had called home for so many
years, Harry worried that he would want to move back there, or at a minimum,
resume his job there. During Charlie's first night away, Harry suddenly became
very nervous, borderline depressed. He had no doubt that Charlie would stay
with him, and even less doubt that the fiery Weasley loved him. The question
was what would change after his return. How much would Charlie want to make for
a move home?
The following morning Harry decided to join Hermione and Ron for brunch at the
pub—their fried eggs are exceptionally well-made. When Ron left the table to
use the loo, Hermione pushed Harry about what was bothering him. Briefly
explaining his worries, Hermione reminded Harry of what he had told her after
the two men got home from their honeymoon.
"Remember, you told me, 'After that, there's nothing that could separate us.
Even death.'"
"Yeah I remember," Harry replied, recalling their one-on-one lunch date.
"So just talk to him, Harry. I'm sure he'll understand. And if there really
does turn out to be a problem, then just tell him what you told me."
Harry nodded. After their brunch, Harry returned home that Saturday afternoon
and found himself to feel slightly more at ease—thanks to one little chat with
Hermione, no less. Harry subconsciously found himself knocking on the breaker
box in the basement. The former Gryffindor walked into the still growing
archive, the process still in its infant stages. He walked over to the set of
vials containing his memories of their honeymoon, five of them sitting there
with different labels on them. Figuring out which to look at, Harry started for
the one with a red box dated July 12, 2003, with a title that read 'Sicilian
Beach, Day 1.' It was the southern beach on the Italian island of Sicily that
Harry had first watched Charlie's dragon tattoo dance wildly on his body, the
dragon gleefully reacting to the heat of the sunlight.
Instead, however, Harry's hand grabbed the first vial of its kind, marked with
a red square that had a bubble gum pink border around it. It was dated the day
before, titled 'A Bit of Weasley Flavor.' Smirking at the title he'd inscribed
on the rip of parchment, Harry couldn't help himself but walk over to the
pensieve and pour its contents into the basin. Harry leaned forward and touched
the tip of his nose to the silvery contents, quickly finding himself gazing at
the Roman-styled king-sized bed they had shared their entire stay in the
Mediterranean:
Harry and Charlie stumbled into their suite, giddy from the poor joke Charlie
had attempted to tell, only for the Muggle woman in the elevator to give them
an offended-look—her face had been priceless. The older woman clearly believed
the goblin in the joke had been a reference to her, obviously not attune to the
world in which the two men lived.
Harry, just over-full from his dinner, collapsed back onto the bed, his eyes
staring up at the creamy-red ceiling. It reminded him of his dinner he'd just
eaten, when the tomato sauce from his chicken mixed with his pasta covered in a
white seafood-sauce. He smirked at the idea that maybe the designers of their
hotel had been inspired by that very 'little thing in life.'
Suddenly, Charlie, who had claimed the need to whiz due to the large amount of
wine he'd drank that evening, yanked open the bathroom door. Wrenching his head
to see his newlywed, Harry saw the taller redhead standing there in nothing but
a pair of trunk-boxers, clearly dark but not completely visible to Harry what
with the light coming from behind the man.
"You aren't too full, then?" Harry asked, an amused smile spreading across his
face as he propped himself up on his elbows.
Charlie returned Harry's look with his own seductive smile before flipping off
the bathroom light switch. "I think I'm still hungry. Second dessert sounds
good."
Harry rolled his eyes and let out a chuckle. "You're such a dork, Weasley."
"I know," Charlie said as he pushed Harry back and planted his hands next to
Harry's head. He swooped down and met Harry's warm lips with his own. Charlie
tasted of espresso and raspberries; he and Charlie had shared aLimoncello
Semifreddowith raspberry sauce after their entrees. Harry flicked his tongue at
the older man's muscle that was planted inside his own mouth, Harry's arms
wrapping around the mid-section of Charlie's torso. "I love you, Harry,"
Charlie said between kisses, pushing himself between Harry's legs that dangled
off the edge of the bed.
"I love you, too, dork," Harry said, smiling against their kiss. Charlie rolled
his eyes behind his closed eyelids and stood back up, pulling Harry up with
him. "Char…Charlie what are you…oomph…" Charlie had lifted the shorter man by
his armpits and tossed him onto the bed.
"I told you," Charlie began as he climbed onto the bed and started to crawl
over the length of Harry's body, "I'm still hungry." Charlie stopped to hover
over Harry's waist, sitting down on the smaller Seeker's thighs while reaching
down to Harry's belt. He hastily made work of the bit of leather, pulling it
out of Harry's pant-loops and tossing it across the room over his shoulder.
Harry let his neck muscles relax as he felt Charlie undo his slacks, not once
fumbling with their restraints. Harry suddenly stretched his toes, his hands,
palms flat to the sheets, circling slightly as Charlie kneaded Harry's erection
through his knickers. Pushing up into the redhead's palm, Harry suddenly felt
the other work its way past his waistband and drag its way through Harry's
abdominal hair and into his chest hairs, Charlie's hand concealed by the still-
clad white button-up. Charlie planted a kiss on the exposed skin above Harry's
crimson boxer-briefs, his kneading and palming hand on Harry's length moving to
slide its fingers beneath the top of the garment.
In a tenderly slow motion, the larger Seeker pulled on the top of Harry's
knickers, exposing Harry's reddened head. Charlie's lips instantly wrapped
around him and, in two synced motions, pulled down Harry's underwear down to
beneath his balls and took Harry's entire length into his mouth.
"Bollucks…" Harry gasped, arching his hips, a hand tightly gripping his locks
while the other crunched a bit of the sheets between his fingers. Charlie
swallowed a few times, eliciting a deep groan from Harry's throat before
pulling back and releasing Harry with a pop. Charlie rose and moved himself
forward, stealing Harry's lips for another passionate kiss, his own silky-
linen-clad erection grinding into Harry's slickened length.
After a moment of engaging their tongues in a duel, Charlie slithered back down
and took Harry's hardness back into his eager mouth, bobbing and tightening,
using his hand to grip and squeeze the base and using his tongue to coat
different sides in his nectar. Harry, still lying there, could only writhe from
the passionate assault, the hand that had been in his own hair now buried and
tensing into Charlie's fiery locks.
"Charlie…shit I'm gonna'…ahh fuuuck," Harry moaned as he came deep into
Charlie's welcoming mouth, Harry's hips arched into the air. After taking it
all in and swallowing, Charlie released Harry's dick and rose onto his knees,
no longer seated on Harry's thighs. He licked his lips for Harry's amusement
winked down at the panting man below him. Charlie fell to the side towards the
pillows, forcing his own knickers off before repositioning himself to remove
Harry's slacks and underwear, discarding them first before pulling Harry up by
the chest of his button-shirt and yanking that over his head.
Charlie's lips attacked Harry's instantly and the two found themselves rolling
around amidst their tongue and lips-collision. Finally stopping, Harry found
himself on top, his muscling chest flush against Charlie's thicker-defined
tones. Breaking the kiss, Harry began to plant a trail of wet pecks down
Charlie's body, moving first to the redhead's chin, then to the nape of his
neck, to the barely noticeable clavicle, to the middle of his pecks, to his
sternum, to his belly button, to the top of the base, and finally to the head
of Charlie's length. Looking up into Charlie's blue eyes that were watching
him, Harry tilted and took his uncut length into his mouth just as Charlie had
moments ago.
While not quiteas skilled as his lover, Harry found Charlie's panting to be the
reassuring sign he was looking for—and the panting began almost immediately.
Harry noted that Charlie's mouth was open like an 'O,' though no vocal sounds
came from it. Determined to get more out of Charlie, Harry went as far down as
he could—which was only so far as Charlie's dick, like the rest of him, was
long and thick—and placed the length between his fore-teeth before ever so
slowly and delicately dragging his way up.
"Fuckin' 'ell, Harry," Charlie said, his torso shooting up slightly and his
eyes intensely focused on Harry's lips.
"You like?" Harry said, looking up at the redhead with a smirk.
"If you don't do that I'll—ah, Merlin…"
Harry had repeated the motion, and again, and again, and again. Charlie had
fallen back down, his eyes too focused to be hidden beneath scrunched eyelids.
He was staring up at the same ceiling Harry had been before they started,
though no thoughts of sauces crossed his mind.
"Nngh…" Charlie groaned, squirming as Harry returned a less intense
ministration, though lavished with an intense suction and grip between his
lips. "Mmh…mmh…ah!" Suddenly Charlie pushed Harry's head up and off and
Charlie's hand tightly gripped the base of his cock, his thumb and forefinger
wrapping under his balls to form a ring.
"What?" Harry said, looking half hurt half annoyed.
"Didn't wanna' cum..." Charlie breathed out, Harry's expression immediately
lightening. "I kinda' need this," Charlie said with a laugh, shaking his dick a
bit from side to side.
Harry only laughed and moved up to kiss Charlie. "You really are a dork,
Weasley," Harry said with a grin after breaking his short kiss.
"I know, Potter," Charlie retorted before pushing Harry off to the side to land
on his back. Harry watched as Charlie leaned forward and got back on his knees.
"Roll over," he said, patting the bed between them. Harry complied and rolled
onto his stomach, arching his back to accommodate for his arms that propped him
up. Charlie planted his shins on the outer-sides of Harry's knees before
leaning down and gripping Harry's globular hairy arse-cheeks. Moving forward,
Charlie placed his outstretched tongue on the base of Harry's balls before
dragging his tongue upward over the perineal muscle, over Harry's awaiting
hole, and stopping just at the base of the smaller Seeker's spine.
"Uunghh…" Harry moaned, his body shuddering slightly.
"You want it don't you?" Charlie asked seductively, his thumbs now on either
side of Harry's hole, pulling his hairy cheeks apart for Charlie's clearer
sight. Harry could only nod eagerly, slightly wrenching his head to the side,
his green eyes peering at Charlie's freckled face. Harry watched as Charlie's
eyes closed before he leaned forward again, his nose at the base of his spine
and his tongue eagerly gliding all around Harry's now puckering arsehole.
Harry continued to groan from deep within as waves of pleasure—that Charlie had
only ever given him—coursed through his body. His back arched a little further
and his hands clenched onto the cream-colored sheets beneath them. Charlie's
tongue lathered over the ridges and creases around Harry's hole before lightly
jabbing at the central point. As Harry's body tensed further, Charlie made for
one movement and pushed through, forcing his tongue between Harry's heat.
"Merlin, Charlie…" Harry breathed as the redhead began to move his tongue back
and forth, several times to the brim and others to meet the first ring of tight
muscles within. The raven-haired man began to subconsciously push back against
the welcomed invading muscle, attempting the get Charlie to push beyond that
initial sphincter. And when he finally did, Harry cried out, "Fugh…fuck, fuck,
fuck!"
"As you wish," Charlie said, the first time pulling back. He looked down at
Harry's squelching hole and teased it with his finger. "Stay there," Charlie
said, patting Harry's globes before hopping off the bed and digging into the
smaller of his two bits of luggage. Finally pulling his arm out, Harry, who'd
leaned onto his side to watch, saw that Charlie had retrieved a bottle shaped
like a capped-flat-based-'V' with a label he couldn't make out.
"Charlie, what is that?"
"Don't get mad," Charlie said before clambering back to his spot over Harry,
scooting forward only slightly to seat himself on those sturdy thighs. "I know
we agreed to do this entire trip like Muggles, but I saw what mediocre products
they were selling in the…what do you call it…adult boutique?"
Harry let a giggle escape, turning back around to face the opposite wall. "You
went to a sex shop?" Harry asked, fighting his full laughter.
"Well, yes," Charlie said matter-of-factly. "I know we usually use the spell
and since we made this little agreement…I didn't want to break you."
Harry couldn't restrain himself this time and let out a full bellow. "I'm not
glass," Harry finally said, his laughter calmer now.
"I know but…look," Charlie's tone changing from sweet and nervous to amusedly
annoyed, "Ijust thought thatI'dbe considerate and not tear you open the first
night we were here."
Harry continued to silently chuckle, leaning over to his side again. "C'mere,"
Harry said, tapping his lips with his forefinger. Charlie promptly kissed him
and Harry said, "Thank you. It's sweet…and considerate…really."
"Good…now can we go on? I'm throbbing pretty bad here." Harry nodded, chuckling
as he shifted his weight back to both of his arms. "This is gonna' feel a
little weird. I've only ever used this stuff once before and apparently…well
it's supposed to be weird at first."
"Go on, then," Harry said, wiggling his arse promptingly.
Charlie unscrewed the lid and found that it was attached to a dropper. Placing
the bottle on the flat part of the baseboard, Charlie returned to Harry's arse
and held Harry's relaxing hole wide with his fore- and middle fingers. With the
dropper in hand, the redhead squeezed lightly before two drops of the clear
liquid fell into Harry's hole. Almost directly on impact, Harry lightly thrust
into the bed, his now visible flaccid dick twitching and pushing out towards
Charlie.
"You were right," Harry said, "that is weird."
Placing the lid back, Charlie leaned over Harry's body and planted a kiss to
the back of his neck. He rolled over towards the pillows and leaned against
them, now sitting against the headboard and a pillow with his legs straight
out. "Come get it, Potter," Charlie said rather seductively.
Nodding, Harry got to his knees and clambered over to his lover who helped
Harry to hover over his dick. Gripping Harry's upper-arms, Harry lowered
himself until the tip was flush against his hole, where he began to take the
straining member into him. Charlie noted that Harry's eyes didn't bulge this
time, only his mouth was agape as he continued to lower himself.
"You okay?" Charlie asked.
"Great," Harry said, still concentrated on taking all of his dragon tamer.
"It's actually…better…nngh," Harry said before grunting after a hair got caught
in the penetration, now fully seated. "It's better than the spell."
Charlie only beamed at his newlywed, pushing up, eliciting a heavier breath
from his partner. "Glad to hear it."
"I think you can move, already," Harry said, rocking his arse left and right.
"You…sure?" Charlie said while lifting Harry slightly up and thrusting up into
him.
"Fuck!" Harry cried, Charlie having already struck his prostate. "You know me
inside and out," Harry said before leaning forward and kissing him hard, his
hands, which had been on Charlie's shoulders, rubbing along Charlie's well-
defined pecks. The smaller Seeker incidentally brushed a hard nipple, causing
Charlie to buck upwards, making them both moan as Harry tightened around
Charlie's thick member.
"Not…gonna'…last," Charlie muttered between kisses, now rhythmically thrusting
upward while Harry remained seated on the larger Seerker's thighs. After a few
more thrusts, Charlie lifted Harry and dropped him back on the bed. Crawling up
beside him, the redhead rolled Harry onto his side and forced himself flush
against Harry's backside. Charlie lifted Harry's top leg and placed it onto his
own as he pushed back inside Harry, his bottom arm wrapping under Harry's neck
and around across his chest, his other moving to jerk on Harry's returned-
erection.
"Fuck me, Charlie," Harry breathed, his top arm grasping onto the forearm
spread across his chest.
Without hesitating, Charlie immediately began to move, pushing back and forth,
thrusting his length delightfully into Harry's deep set of nerves. "I love you,
Harry," Charlie muttered behind the smaller Seeker, who was now doing his best
to participate by pushing back every now and then.
"Merlin…I love you, too," Harry breathed. "Ah! Ahhh fuck, Charlie!" Harry
cried, coming when Charlie's hand pulled down over his cock and he thrust deep
into his prostate at the same time. At the cry of his name, and in combination
with the tightening around his cock, Charlie came, too, his creamy seed coating
the inside of Harry's arse.
"Fuck, Harry…" Charlie panted, pulling the smaller man's waist tighter into
him, forcing the former's cock to push deeper into Harry.
"We need to use that stuff again," Harry said, a content smile across his face.
"Oh, we will," Charlie replied assuredly, planting a kiss the back of Harry's
ceiling-side ear.
Ever since, Harry and Charlie had only been using the substance he found out
later to be a potion called Oleus Solution. While it didn't come with the same
protections as the Lubrication Charm, it did have a quicker and better path to
pleasure, which, in a marriage, was the way to go.
Harry prematurely exited the memory, refusing to watch the embarrassing moment
where he found out Charlie was just a little dirtier than he ever knew before.
After coming deep within his arse, the cum began to trail out and Charlie, the
kinky bastard, just lapped it up like it was nothing. Harry had refused to kiss
him until he had brushed his teeth and used the Muggle mouthwash, which Charlie
referred to as the Muggle's version of a death draught. Harry only laughed at
the thought before returning the memory-liquid to its vial, stowing it back in
its place before ascending the stairs to go wank the tension out.
***** The Only Way Is Magic, Part One *****
May 3, 2008; Sterling Resorts ~ Sea Breeze, Biloxi, MS
Margaret Janeway's hit wizard team transported all 23 Death Bringer captives to
the Magical Regulation Agency headquarters in the capital, including Donovan
Shallows, whom Reid would interrogate after successfully escorting the British
leader of the Dark Wizard-band back to his home country. The two primary teams
were now back in their room at the resort, waiting to properly extradite Seward
Roscoe until Peter Churchmore and the few others that were unconscious roused;
Henry Huxterian, who would be asleep for an entire week according to Reid,
would be safe for transporting in his slumber given the right precautionary
steps are taken. The Auror and hit wizards, along with the downed members of
Picard's team were all kept in the back of the room in a wing designated for
that very purpose.
In the middle-section of the room, off to the right if one faces the back, was
Seward Roscoe inside a portable cell. His arms were bound by the Incarcerous
spell and he had been given a Muffling Draught upon arrival; neither, of
course, protected against his abilities to cast spells wordlessly or
wandlessly, but the cage was surrounded by six inward-facing powerful Shield
Charms. Roscoe was sitting on a short wooden stool in the center of the cage,
an evil grin still spread across his twisted face, revealing his snake-like
teeth. Two men were stationed next to the cage, one Picard's and the other
Swan's; both were under orders not to speak to the prisoner and nor to even
look at him.
Roscoe was a pale man with short black hair, his body thin likely from the
constant evasion of the American MRA agents. His eyes were fully black like a
snake's and his canine teeth were long, thin, and curved fangs; both features
were likely results of some form of transfiguration. His Dark Mark tattoo, like
the rest of the Death Eaters and Bringers, had faded to a scar since Lord
Voldemort's death, yet Roscoe had what appeared to be a Muggle tattoo over it
of the same Dark Mark design.
In the front of the room stood Reid Shallows, his arms crossed and one of his
hands fidgeting with his chin. Next to him stood Christian Picard and Mackenzie
Hensbolm, next to them Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley respectively, and
between the two Aurors sat Belenus Swan, a type of animal hide wrapped around
his wounded forearm with a cream between it. The six men were discussing the
next phase, Swan and Picard not talking much as they were lost inside their
heads as they mulled over the day's events and who they lost in their teams.
Michael Gossard was away at the Department of Magic, reporting in to the
Director of the Magical Regulation Agency. Terry Bicknell was sitting off on
one of the lounge sofas, reading a wizarding magazine with the headline 'A
Remedy to Cure All Ills?' spread across the top in two lines.
After about thirty or so minutes after arriving back at Room 707, Picard's
guard posted outside the sectioned-off medical wing yelled to the front. "Sir,
Churchmore is awake!"
The five men remained in their places while Christian Picard headed towards the
back of the long room. Terry took his time rising off the couch, desperate to
get to the end of the paragraph in the article he was reading. Picard walked
passed both his and Swan's guard and entered the medical bay, Terry finally
strolling up to Roscoe's cell.
"How are you feeling s—" Picard began before a green light suddenly flashed out
from behind the divider. Alarmed, the two guards turned in, only for two more
flashes of light to burst from behind the divider.
"Terry!" Reid cried as he saw Peter Churchmore stumble out of the wing, his
wand outstretched before him almost zombie-like. Before the Auror could strike
the frozen healer down, Reid thrust his wand forward and a bolt of lightning
struck Peter square in the chest, sending him crumpling to the ground. Reid
rushed forward and shook Terry's shoulders. "Are you hit? Terry!" Terry
Bicknell finally focused on Reid's face and shook his head, though stiffly.
Reid walked over to Peter Churchmore's downed form, the blonde's wand pointed
at Peter, slowly approaching as Harry and Ron also approached, their own wands
outstretched.
"We have you covered, Reid," Harry said, flicking his wand at Peter's to make
it slide off behind the divides.
Reid lowered his wand slightly and crouched next to Peter's form before pushing
the man to roll over. Peter's head was twitching slightly and his eyes were
wide open, his eyes glazed over. "He's…fuck, he's Imperiused."
Harry turned to Seward Roscoe, whose smile had only widened. The former
Gryffindor pointed his wand at the Death Bringer angrily and yelled, "Who did
it? Who placed him under the curse?"
Roscoe only turned his head to face Harry.
"Put your wand down, Harry," Ron said firmly, the redhead now facing his best
mate.
"It's alright, Harry, I can get him out of this," Reid said. Harry turned to
watch as Reid raised his wand to the wall and zapped it. After the spell had
been cast, Harry noticed the tip of Reid's wand had what looked like a spark on
the end of it and the blonde brought it down to Peter's temple.
"Reid don't—" Harry began, stepping forward.
But Reid didn't stop and touched the tip to the side of Peter's head. Peter's
entire body jerked up into an arch. Reid repeated the motion a second time and
Peter gasped, as if he'd been holding his breath the entire time. Instantly,
tears began to swell in his eyes and he began to mumble, "I didn't mean
to…really…I'm soo sorry…"
"Quiet," Reid said, standing up. "Terry here is going to look you over and help
you recover from the electricity."
Terry nodded and walked over to Peter, helping the man up and back into his
bed.
Reid walked over to Christian Picard's dead form and knelt down before closing
the fallen man's eyes and swearing. Reid's own eyes closed and he breathed out
a heavy sigh as Ron helped the other hit wizards take care of their other two
fallen brethren.
===============================================================================
An hour passed and all of Terry's British patients had roused; Peter Churchmore
was in shape-enough to travel. With a series of cracks, Michael Gossard
returned with Margaret Janeway and her entire team, as well as Director of the
Magical Regulation Agency, Hooverus Ridgeman.
"Ah, you must be Director Potter," Ridgeman said, his arm outstretched while
walking up to Harry, Ron, and Mack, the man's walrus bristles moving with the
man's breathe.
Harry took his hand as did the other two Aurors. "Nice to meet, you Director,"
Harry began. "This is my former partner and Assistant Director Ronald Weasley,
and his current partner Mackenzie Hensbolm, Auror First Class."
"Nice to meet you, nice to meet you," he said, unfittingly gleeful given what
had transpired only a short time ago. "Excellent field work, I hear, Potter,"
the older man said. "I hear Shallows, here, was a great asset to the catch
today," Ridgeman said, clearly gloating.
"He was great today," Harry said. "He and I go back a few years so it was nice
to see him in full action. Ron, here, of course, was amazing as well. Took down
Roscoe by himself," Harry added.
"I am sorry about your losses, Potter," Ridgeman said, changing the subject.
"The Department will be sure to acknowledge their sacrifice in the press
release tomorrow."
"Thank you Director—"
"Let's get this over with," Reid said more solemnly, walking up to them after
having conversed with Janeway.
"Reid, my boy—" Ridgeman attempted before the blonde put a flat palm up.
"Hoover, I have a job to do. Play politics when we get to London."
The three Aurors were each taken aback at Reid's dismissive words and tone;
Reid clearly had something on the older wizard that allowed him to speak to
Ridgeman that way—he must have.
"The prisoner is ready for transport, sirs," Janeway said, holding out a second
object wrapped in thick transparent plastic.
"Roscoe is Ron's prisoner," Harry said, "you do the honors again." Ron nodded,
their exchanged look the redhead's way of saying thanks.
Forming a triad with Belenus Swan and the still bound and muted Seward Roscoe,
Ron withdrew the Muggle mug with a sports car image on two sides from its bag
and the three men instantly disappeared. Margaret Janeway snapped her fingers
at one of her men and he handed a wrapped portkey to the remainder of Swan's
men and they soon disappeared as well. The same wizard walked up to Harry and
presented him with a third wrapped portkey: a smashed Coca-Cola can. Peter,
Mack, Reid, Janeway, and Ridgeman all firmly grasped onto Harry's brown Auror
trench coat. Terry walked over to Reid and gave him a quick goodbye kiss before
Harry removed the plastic and touched the can. Within in seconds, Harry found
himself back in the atrium of the Ministry of Magic.
***** The Only Way Is Magic, Part Two *****
…before Harry removed the plastic and touched the can. Within in seconds, Harry
found himself back in the atrium of the Ministry of Magic.
As the Aurors and MRA officials warped into the large room of the Ministry,
they found that the evening event to commemorate the ten-year anniversary of
Phoenix Day was over; it was, after all, just after ten in the evening back in
London. Suddenly, Minister Shacklebolt, accompanied by Secretaries Whipple and
Rosewood and Rupert Scrimgeour, came out of the elevator to greet the incomers
from Mississippi.
"Jeanabella, my old friend," Hooverus Ridgeman said, releasing his grip on
Harry's coat and striding over to the older witch, his arms outstretched.
"Hoover Ridgeman, you old log," she said with a bright smile, embracing the
man.
"Minister," Harry said, shaking Kingsley Shacklebolt's hand as the Minister for
Magic began to congratulate his people. "Minister, this is Chief of Operation:
Hercules, Reid Shallows." Shacklebolt, knowing of the operation and its chief,
diligently shook the blonde's hand. "And his partner, Michael Gossard."
The pleasantries continued for only a few moments, three of Belenus Swan's men
having escorted Seward Roscoe to one of the Department of Magical Law
Enforcement's several maximum security holding rooms long before the
'congratulations' began.
"I must congratulate you all," the Minister began, the large room now silent,
"on a job well done. Around such a momentous occasion, it seems duly suiting
that one of the Dark Lord's highest ranking lieutenants be brought to justice
this day."
After several more minutes of conversing, particularly between the Minister and
Director Ridgeman, Reid politely interrupted. "If it's alright with you, sir,"
he began, addressing Ridgeman with rank now, "I'd like to stay the rest of the
weekend here. Of course if that's alright with the Minister as well, sir."
Shacklebolt turned to Ridgeman and said, "That can easily be arranged, Hoover.
I know you like to keep your men on a tight leash but the lad has earned a day
off."
"Very well, my boy," Hoover said nonchalantly. "Come home on Monday and you've
got the rest of the week off."
Shaking Ridgeman and Shacklebolt's hands, Reid made his way over to Harry,
Mack, and Ron. "So, how 'bout I meet your old lady, Weasley."
"Have to debrief first but you got it. She'll be delighted to have another
brain for company."
Nodding, the three Aurors, Belenus Swan, and Reid Shallows made their way for
the elevators to debrief—Peter Churchmore had already made his way there as he
was still not fit to stand for too long. Harry, in fact, would have to stay
behind late into the morning and oversee all of the procedural and
administrative necessities surrounding Roscoe's imprisonment, interrogation,
and ultimate transfer to Azkaban.
===============================================================================
"Director."
Shake. Shake.
"Director, sir," came an unfamiliar voice.
Harry suddenly lifted his head to see an empty interrogation room in front of
him. Immediately pulling out his wand, Harry jerked back from the desk he'd
fell asleep on and up from the chair he'd been seated on, the wooden chair
falling backwards.
"Where is he?" Harry said in a panic.
"He's back in his holding cell, sir," the lowly assistant said, his tone more
at ease.
Harry quickly calmed and checked his wrist watch. It was four in the morning
and he was the only one of his travelling colleagues left at the Ministry; even
the Minister and the Secretaries had gone home. "Bollucks," he mumbled. "How
did the rest of the interrogation go?" he asked of the assistant; the man
before him was the personal assistant to the Assistant Director for the Office
of Security Personnel of the Azkaban Corrections Bureau.
"Well, sir. About an hour ago, the Cognos broke through; the prisoner's a
highly skilled Occlumens, sir." The shorter, younger man handed Harry a scroll
of parchment: the word-for-word transcript written by an automated quill much
like a Quick-Quotes Quill.
Harry looked over the long roll of parchment, the length surmounting to nearly
three dozen sheets of Muggle printer paper. Scanning the official document,
Harry found the first bit he was looking for. After the Cognos had broken
through Roscoe's powerful mental defenses against Veritaserum, the inquisitor
began on a pre-written line of question, each about the multitudes of crimes
he'd committed over the years. Harry found, towards the bottom of the lengthy
scroll, that Roscoe was not responsible for placing Peter Churchmore under the
Imperius Curse, leaving Harry to suspect that the likely culprit was Donovan
Shallows—he'd inform Reid of this before his departure for the States. The
other bit Harry was looking for he found hidden around a third of the way up
from the bottom: the whereabouts and status of Thorkel Rowle. Admittedly,
Seward Roscoe confessed that the younger brother of Thorfinn Rowle was still
alive and on the run, his whereabouts unknown even to the leader of the Death
Bringers.
Harry swore, fearing that this endless hunt for Voldemort's men would never
cease. "Process this and send a copy to my desk. The Minister wants me to
address the public in a few hours and I'll need this."
"Of course, Director," the man said, hurrying off to ship this to the archives
and create a second scroll for Harry.
===============================================================================
"Welcome and good morning," Harry began, the press conference starting promptly
at seven in the morning. "Thank you all for being here. I have a special
announcement and I will not be taking any questions at this time." Harry
cleared his throat, looking out at all the reporters, recognizing the Daily
Prophet reporter, M. Carneirus, a regular correspondent at the Ministry of
Magic. "I am pleased to report that yesterday evening the Auror Office and the
Magical Regulation Agency of the United States conducted a joint operation that
captured Seward Roscoe, the leader of the Death Bringers, and mass murderer who
sought to overthrow our allies after the Dark Lord took control of our own
nation.
"It was just over thirteen years ago that Lord Voldemort was resurrected in his
family's graveyard and only nearly twelve when he dispatched one of his top
lieutenants to the United States to create the fifth column organization known
as the Death Bringers. After the Dark Lord's death ten years ago, Roscoe has
been on the run from the Agency and only two weeks ago did they discover one of
his many hideouts. Our American friends notified us shortly after and yesterday
Task Force Head Reid Shallows, with Assistant Director Weasley and myself,
formulated a plan to infiltrate their hideout in Biloxi, Mississippi. At
approximately 2:30PM, Central Standard Time, our joint teams breached Roscoe's
compound.
"While there was a great deal of resistance, our teams persevered and
ultimately Assistant Director Weasley personally disarmed and captured the
Death Bringers' leader. Unfortunately, there were casualties in both teams.
Nevertheless, the mission was accomplished and two of the organization's
leaders were captured in the skirmish; Special Agent Shallows successfully
captured his long-evasive cousin, Donovan Shallows, one of Roscoe's most devout
followers and one of the two second-in-commands.
"The Ministry of Magic, including the Auror Office, does not want the public to
be afraid or alarmed, but it does want to be forthcoming just as well: Seward
Roscoe's other second-in-command, the British-born Thorkel Rowle, is still at
large. My office, as well the MRA, believes that Rowle may still be hiding and
on-the-run in the United States and we are conducting a thorough interagency
international investigation to locate the Death Bringer's whereabouts. If
anyone has any information, we invite them to Owl any Department or Ministry of
Magic official. Should any witch or wizard see or come into contact with Rowle,
we urge you not to engage him and contact the Auror Office or the MRA
immediately. My office would like to recognize those officers that perished
yesterday, including an American hit wizard squad leader; they have our eternal
gratitude and their names will be published at a later date after their
families have been given time to grieve.
"Again, I will not be answering questions at this time but I would like to
thank you all for coming. Please enjoy the rest of your morning." Harry stepped
away from the crowd, dozens of camera lights flashing as Harry made his way for
the elevator to take him back to his office on the second level, two Ministry
security stepping forward to prevent any uppity reports from following and/or
harassing the Director for the Auror Office.
After finally entering his office, the outside set of cubicles still empty—they
wouldn't start filling up until almost another hour—Harry let out a great sigh.
This was the first real chance he had to take it all in and rest—the nap he'd
had left him slightly on edge afterwards. Harry began to change out of his
office clothes and back into his dress robes, leaving the shirt un-tucked, the
tie wrapped around his neck and collar, and the robe itself draped over his
arm. Reaching into his pocket, Harry pulled out a gold pocket watch. Flipping
the lid open, Harry saw that the 'Charlie-hand' still pointed to a shiny
embossed 'T,' indicating that Charlie was travelling, or rather still at his
brother Bill's house; Harry's own hand was pointed at the 'W' for obvious
reasons.
After taking only another minute for himself, Harry walked out of his office
and began to make his way for the elevator. He would soon take it to the floos,
only to disapparate home to his and Charlie's house in Godric's Hollow. The
Minister for Magic gave him the week off and Harry was looking forward to his
rest and relaxation.
***** The Only Way Is Magic, Part Three *****
May 4, 2008; Godric's Hollow
Harry slowly opened his eyes, the sun slipping through the bottoms of his
recently closed eyelids and alerting him to the afternoon world around him.
Blinking a few times, Harry pushed himself up, turning his feet to hang off the
side. Garbed in nothing but long pajama pants and his knickers, Harry looked
around at his bedroom. It was a disaster.
Harry's dress robes had been carelessly dropped on the floor next to the door
to the hallway. His casual wear from the day before, that had been discarded
before his and Charlie's intimate shower moment, still lay in a pile next to
the end of their bed. Different garments of Charlie's dress robes were
scattered about the room, almost in two different trails, the first from the
main door to the bathroom and the second from the bathroom to their long
dresser.
Harry lifted his glasses from atop the nightstand and slid them over his eyes.
Looking around, he spotted his pocket watch next to his discarded slacks and
walked over to it, kneeling down and opening it. Charlie's hand was still on
the 'T' and Harry decided it was time for a shower; if his Weasley still wasn't
home by the time he was done he'd apparate over there himself.
Rising, Harry dropped his last two garments from his body next to the dress
wear next to him, his glasses and the pocket watch in his hand following. The
former Gryffindor stumbled over to the shower, waving his hand to force the
temperature-tuned water to begin spraying from the silver head above. Harry
quickly stepped in, letting the water change the texture of his hair and
trickle down his skin through the other multitudes of dark hairs on his torso
and legs. He tilted his head up and opened his mouth, letting the water fill
the base before he spit it back out. Harry waved his hand at the shower head,
the water starting to beat down comfortably harder as Harry turned to let it
massage his tense shoulders and back.
Harry stretched forward, his arms straight for his hands to rest on the
opposite wall, his left foot further ahead of outstretched back leg. He hung
his head and let his just-short-of-shaggy hair fall beside his eyes, his mouth
agape as the water began to cover his face. This was what he needed. This was
what would kick off the process of recovering from yesterday. Harry's mind
reached back to the fight in the central room. Seeing his cursed-dead
compatriots stiff on the floor. Watching explosions and collisions and rubble
fly. Seeing those closest to him get injured, or worse placed in a state where
their life was now under question. And the worst of all, seeing those close
ones turn on him.
Harry shook his head, opening his eyes as he didn't want to return to that
depressed place he'd been in after the Battle of Hogwarts. All the black. The
funerals. The dead bodies in the Great Hall of those fellow students, friends,
and loved ones he'd known for years. Harry didn't need to go back there. Harry
shuddered and summoned an empty memory vial from downstairs. He filled the
small glass with his memory of the skirmish in Biloxi, the first step in
therapeutizing himself. Withdrawing the memories helped. He didn't forget them.
But they seemed to go…elsewhere all the same.
He corked the vial and tossed the heavy-duty glass out of the shower, the small
thing landing on the carpet in the bedroom before rolling off somewhere. Harry
quickly ran over his routine, shampooing first and then using the bar of soap
to make suds all over his body. After less than ten minutes he finished, waving
his hand in a reverse motion, turning the water off before picking up his towel
from the adjacent toilet. Harry ran it through his hair before wrapping it
around his waist and walked out to sit on the bed.
Suddenly he heard the sound of the door opening. "Harry!" came Charlie's voice
before the sound of a bag dropping. Charlie loudly trudged up the stairs,
coming into view at the end of the hallway. "Merlin, you're alright," he said,
walking in and embracing Harry's wet form. "Are you alright," he asked, seeing
Harry's down-expression.
The smaller Seeker only nodded, forcing a slight smile.
"What the…Merlin, I haven't seen you beat up like this since your second
assignment when that Corminus bastard splinched you." Charlie was, of course,
referring to the fleeing wizard who had stolen a caged infantile acromantula
from Eeylops' that had been meant to be sent to a shop in Knockturn Alley.
Harry had leapt to tackle the fleeing wizard when Corminus disapparated, taking
both men through the 'wormhole.' They found Harry not far from a nearby shack
in Epping Forest, managing to repair Harry's splinched leg and capture Corminus
from within the shack fairly easily.
"I'm okay, Charlie," Harry reassured. "They're just minor scrapes and cuts.
Rubble and all."
"Well that's all fine but what hidden in Merlin's beard is this?" Charlie
asked, now crouched before Harry's legs and pointing at the former Gryffindor's
shoulder. The skin was all in a circular wrinkled twist, a tiny translucent
almost fishing-line looking string sticking out of the center.
"One of the Death Bringers hit me with the Perfodius Curse. The Americans'
healer patched me up just fine so don't worry."
Charlie scowled before placing a light kiss on the back of Harry's hand that
was resting on his knee. "Fine," Charlie said, sticking his tongue out. "Sorry
it took me so long. I honestly didn't expect you to be back home so soon and
Bill and I were out in the water for a while. I only caught a recap of your
speech on Fleur's wireless when we came back in. I guess she left it on before
she took the kids out."
"It's alright. It was actually nice to just vege. Plus," Harry began to add
before checking his watch, "I only just got up. Only got six hours."
"Feel any more…relaxed, then?"
"Yeah," Harry said. "I mean…you know how it is after these kinda' things. This
one was probably the worst; brought up a lot of memories from the final battle,
actually."
"You wanna' talk about it?"
Harry shook his head. "I just need time. Let it get outta' my system the way
the others have. Prolly' meditate later."
"Did you already strain it into a vial?"
Harry nodded. "It's actually around here somewhere."
"I assume it helped?" Harry shrugged. "Well I know something that always
helps," Charlie said, standing up and pulling Harry with him. Charlie forced
his lips onto Harry's, his hunger from the scare of something happening to the
smaller man becoming unchained. And somehow, the roughness that Charlie always
had after these…trips…was exactly what Harry needed. It helped him release. Let
go. Find his sanity and place it back within his mind.
Charlie broke the rough kiss and pushed Harry back onto the bed, the towel
having already fallen from the smaller man's waist. Charlie stared hungrily at
Harry's growing cock as the redhead began to hastily and clumsily strip off his
own clothes. Making short work of them, he crawled over top the smaller man and
took his lips back onto his own, their teeth clashing and their tongues engaged
in a fervent duel, Charlie unrhythmically grinding his cock into Harry's own
erection and hips.
"Need you…" Charlie breathed against Harry's lips. "Need ta' feel you…need ta'
fuck you."
Harry nodded eagerly, their lips locking again as the man underneath thrust
upward.
Charlie suddenly pushed their lips harder together, forcing his tongue deeper
into Harry's welcoming mouth. He finally pulled back and stood up before
double-patting Harry's bum, the glow from the spell particularly extra bright.
The redhead hopped onto the bed, pulling Harry up onto his knees, Charlie lying
flat on the surface with his straddled knees propped up. Taking the cue, Harry
got between Charlie's legs and faced away from him before crouching up and
moving himself to hover over Charlie's erection. Supporting his lover's back
with his hands, Charlie helped guide Harry down onto his throbbing cock, the
smaller man gliding right down.
"Ugh, fuuuuuck…" Harry moaned, his head falling back, his arms reaching back to
plant on either side of Charlie's ribcage. "What did…what did you do?" Harry
questioned as he tried to move past the initial wave of pleasure.
"Maxima'ed it," Charlie said with a wide grin before pushing down on the bed
with his arse and thrusting up. Expectedly, Charlie caught Harry as his arms
gave way and the redhead lowered the smaller Seeker's still-wet back onto his
chest. The larger Seeker wrapped his arms around Harry's chest, who bent his
elbows up to grasp onto Charlie's forearms as the stronger man below began to
rapidly piston into his needing arsehole.
"Nyughh…ugh…ugh…ah…shit, Char…ugh…fugh…ugh." Harry's eyes were clamped shut,
feeling Charlie's nips and tongue on his ear as his head was resting to the
side of the redhead's.
"So good, Harry…" Charlie breathed into Harry's ear. "Need more."
Harry nodded and Charlie threw Harry off to the side, the smaller man landing
on his stomach. Charlie waddled over towards Harry's feet and Charlie lifted
his partner onto all-fours. Charlie lined himself and thrust forward, pushing
deep into Harry in one go, slamming those excitable bunch of nerves.
"Ah, Charlie…do that again…please…" Harry begged.
Not even needing Harry's pleads, Charlie began to resume his pistoning motions,
slamming into Harry's prostate almost every time, the thrusting reckless at
times. Eventually, after Harry pushed back one too many times, Charlie fell
forward and covered Harry's back with his smooth chest, his arms wrapping
around Harry's lightly-defined pecks, still hump-thrusting into his smaller
partner.
"Harry…it's soo good."
"Yes…there…"
After the sweat easily worked in between their torsos, Harry began to feel the
delighting motion of Charlie's chest gliding along his back. He began to push
back in a more upward motion, forcing Charlie to move in ways he hadn't noticed
before, the pleasure from the sweat intoxicating.
Yet, for the first time in a long time, Charlie gasped loudly into Harry's ear
and the smaller Seeker suddenly felt Charlie's buried dick flare a little, his
cum spurting into Harry's still welcoming arsehole. Despite his orgasm, Charlie
forced himself to resume and within moments, the raven haired man, emotionally
overwhelmed that he'd brought Charlie into his orgasm before his own, joined
the redhead. His cum sprayed onto the sheets below them as Charlie continued to
fuck Harry through the vision-fuzzing orgasm, his hole tightening and
squelching around the continuously hard cock inside him.
"Yea…yess…ugh fugh…Merlin…" Harry gasped as his orgasm began to sizzle,
Charlie's thrusts slowing as well. "Charlie…I fucking love you."
"I know, babe" Charlie teased. Harry purposely leaned forward enough to lose
his upright position, both men colliding downward, the redhead landing with an
oomph and the raven grunting from the deep 'unintended' thrust.
"Thank you, Charlie."
"You're welcome, Harry," Charlie replied, kissing Harry's exposed cheek. "And
welcome home."
"Haha, thanks. It's good to be home."
***** ALLUSIONS, INSIGHTS, & TRIVIA *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
       The Behind the Scenes of Harry Potter and the Legacy of Thirty Six
                                   | NAMES |
There are three new characters that are named in reference to three popular
characters from three other popular series of the past few years: ALLUDED FROM
STEPHENIE MEYER'S Twilightseries, Belenus Swan, named from Isabella "Bella"
Swan, is the head of the personal squad of hit wizards that accompany Harry and
his Auror-partner. His first name derived from the Celtic mythological name of
a god of fire and healing, Belenus is very military-like, never speaking out of
turn and always addressing rank with respect. He is also very loyal to Harry,
serving as his personal assistant during their time in the office and away from
combat. Belenus even clashes at first with the MRA Agent, Reid Shallows, when
Reid addresses Harry by his given name, only to realize that they already know
each other and apologizes to the American. During their hunt for Seward Roscoe,
Belenus gets injured in one of the blasts from one of Roscoe's Fiendfyre traps.
Only scalding his arm, Belenus is forced to take a more permanent cover during
the remainder of the battle. After the fight, Belenus receives treatment from
Reid's life-partner, Terrance Bicknell, who is a highly skilled healer and
ultimately Belenus returns to Great Britain with Harry and the Auror team. FROM
SUZANNE COLLINS' The Hunger Games trilogy, Katherine Everdeen, named from
Katniss Everdeen, is the Death Eater Antonin Dolohov's past girlfriend/lover
some time before he joined the Dark Lord. Katherine worked on the same reserve
with Charlie Weasley and in 2000 Antonin, who had escaped arrest, appeared at
the reserve seeking her help for concealment or any sort of safe flight she
could give him. Charlie, recognizing him and confirming his identity after
seeing the disfigured tattoo on his arm, notified the Auror's Office back in
Britain. In the meantime, Katherine refused to go with Antonin after his many
attempts to convince her, and she only spared him a few Galleons and one of her
brooms before he took off east. Although Dolohov had a head start, the arrival
of Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and several other Aurors proved to be no match
for the former Death Eater; Charlie, familiar with the terrain around them,
helped the Aurors track Dolohov down and the British enforcers successfully
brought him down. Katherine Everdeen was not charged even though she "aided and
abetted" a known criminal. FROM E.L. JAMES' Fifty Shades trilogy, Charles Gray,
named from Christian Grey, is the current owner of the British and Irish
Quidditch League team, the Montrose Magpies. He is also Ginny Weasley's husband
and first love after her and Harry's split sometime in 1998. Charles is a pure-
blood wizard, inheriting the ownership and trust of the team from his father,
as well as the oversight of the Gray family fortune, estate, and affairs.
Charles, for an unknown reason, is unable to bear children and agrees to allow
Harry to not only biologically conceive children with his wife, but also makes
no attempt to want to be titular father to Albus, James, and Lily; he takes the
step-father role welcomingly and for that Charles and Harry have a great amount
of respect for each other-Charles towards Harry because Harry steps up to the
plate as a father. On the flip-side, Ron, Ginny's youngest older brother,
cannot stand Charles Gray, the reason unclear, though Harry suspects it's
either because Charles often leaves his wife alone for business purposes for
great spans of time throughout the year, or because he owns one of the Chudley
Cannons' greatest rival teams-or both.
Callum Costello, the young symphonic wizard prodigy advertised on WWN and
discussed by Arthur Weasley during the birthday dinner at the Burrow, derives
his name from Channel4/E4's Hollyoaks. The Costello family was a long occurring
family, only ending its appearance with the death of Riley Costello in October
2012. Callum Kane is part of the younger generation of characters who first
appeared September 2011.
There are two new characters that are named in reference to two captains from
two separate Star Trek series: DERIVED FROM GENE RODDENBERRY'S Star Trek: The
Next Generation series, Christian Picard, named from Captain Jean-Luc Picard,
is the head of the personal squad of hit wizards that accompany Reid Shallows
and his Agency-partner, Michael Gossart. DERIVED FROM RICK BERMAN'S (et. al.)
Star Trek: Voyager, Margaret Janeway, named from Captain Kathryn Janeway, is
the head of the reserve squad of hit wizards that serve during the Operation:
Hercules mission in Biloxi, Mississippi.
A specialist within the Investigation Department of the Department of Magical
Law Enforcement, a Cognos is an inquisitor, or rather an interrogator or
torturer to Dark Wizards. These brutish, intimidating men are only summoned for
cases where the prisoner is an extremely malicious target and the Ministry
needs all details from him. Cogni use matters of techniques that many would
deem inhumane, including the authorized use of large amounts of Veritaserum and
the Cruciatus Curse. The Latin word cognoscens means "judge" or "inquisitor,"
where Cognos is derived from.
Hunna, the snowy-owl Christmas present Harry received from Charlie in 2006,
derives her name from the same list of Catholic Saints as Hedwig. Although her
patronage-of laundresses, laundry workers, and washerwomen-has nothing to do
with my reasoning, I chose 'Hunna' because of the syllabic similarity to
'hoot,' and in all truth, 'Hunna' has a nice ring to it.
Jeremy Fisher in the 'Jeremy Fisher Opera House' is the name of Helen Beatrix
Potter's main character in her 1906 children's book, The Tale of Mr. Jeremy
Fisher. Beatrix Potter was an English author and illustrator born in
Kensington, London, in 1866, famous for The Tale of Peter Rabbit. Jeremy
Fisher, the character, is a frog, whose name was chosen for the name of the
opera house because in the film adaptation of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of
Azkaban, the Frog Choir was an idea added by director Alfonso Cuarón that J.K.
Rowling "simply loved" according to the HarryPotterWikia. This link between
English authors, stories, characters, and ideas is a dedication to J.K. Rowling
for her love of that little addition.
Kuiperian Whipple derives his name from two astronomers involved in the racing
search for the still undiscovered, yet suspected, Pluto. Although Gerard Kuiper
never made the discovery of Pluto, but did become famous for the theorized and
confirmed Kuiper Belt around our solar system, he did once theorize that Pluto
was the same size as Earth. Fred Whipple also became involved in the planet-
hunt, though ultimately became esteemed for his "dirty snowball" cometary
hypothesis and for his designs of the "Whipple shield." In turn, Kuiperian
Whipple's son, Kenneth Whipple, also derives his name from the same hunt, from
the late Irish astronomer, Kenneth Edgeworth, whose work help laid the ground
for the discovery of the Kuiper belt.
Michael Gossard derives his name from two members of the American rock band,
Pearl Jam: Mike McCready and Stone Gossard, the lead guitarist and rhythm/lead
guitarist respectively. While the band has no significant value, when I was
trying name Reid Shallows' field-partner, their song Black was playing on my
computer.
Phoenix Day derives its name from what the mythical creature represents:
rebirth. Through fire, the phoenix burns up and regrows anew. In the case of
the Second Wizarding War, the war represented the fiery death a phoenix
experiences as it dies. The victory over Voldemort and the Death Eaters is the
rebirth of the phoenix, and therefore the rebirth of the damaged wizarding
world because of the Dark Lord.
In the Goblin's Tap during the second interlude, the Ragnuk Rum is named after
a famous goblin, Ragnuk the First, the very one who forged the Sword of Godric
Gryffindor. Borgrok's Beer, however, is only based on Goblin names, mostly a
mix of Bogrod, Gornuk, and Ragnok, each canon names; Borgrok is not a canon
goblin or name.
Rupert Scrimgeour was given his first name due to the etymology behind his
father's given name: Rufus. Rufus is a Latin name meaning 'red' and Rupert is a
Low German form of the German name, Hrodebert, meaning 'bright fame,' which
correlates also to the red-headed Rupert Grint, obviously the actor who starred
as Ronald Weasley through the entire movie saga.
Streeler Scotch derives its name from the magical creature of the same name
found in J.K. Rowling's Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. A streeler is
a giant snail that "changes colour on an hourly basis, and leaves behind a
trail of venom so toxic that it burns all vegetation that it touches,"
according to the HarryPotterWikia. Sipping scotch, like its parent, sipping
whiskey, is meant to be enjoyed by sipping the beverage over a longer duration
of time, as opposed to shooting it like other types of whiskey, scotch, and
other alcohol. Streeler Scotch is meant to be sipped over an even longer period
and has the added enjoyment effect of changing colors over the entire duration;
in the bottle it changes color on a daily basis, similar to the creature it is
named after. Bill Weasley bought his father a bottle of this for Christmas in
2007 when he was deployed by Gringotts to Carthage, Tunisia.
Thorkel Rowle was given his first name due to the etymology behind his
brother's given name: Thorfinn. Thorfinn, in the Orkneyinga Saga, is an
"unusually tall and strong...a forceful man, greedy for fame and fortune. He
did well in battle, for he was both a good tactician and full of
courage"—according to Wikipedia—and the hero of the narrative. In the same
Norse narrative, Thorkel is Thorfinn's companion, much in the same way as
Enkidu is Gilgamesh's in the Epic of Gilgamesh, or Oliver of Roland's in The
Song of Roland.
 
 
                          | SPELLS AND OTHER MAGIC |
The Lightning Curse (Fulmen Ferio) is a spell invented by Reid Shallows that
emits a jagged yet linear bolt of lightning, electrocuting anything it touches,
even rubber. The incantation is Fulmen Ferio, literally "lightning strike."
Fulmen Rumpo is a spell that, being a stronger version of Fulmen Ferio, sends a
great burst of lightning bolts in an un-patterned large-cone-like manner.
The Lubrication Charm (Lubricus Laboricus) causes an intended target to become
magically lubricated. In the case of sex, where it is most commonly used, the
charm replaces any physical lubricant and even relaxes muscles to a small
degree. Lasting all throughout the entire encounter, the spell dissipates after
orgasm and the male's penis is removed; when it dissipates, it removes all
trace with it and throughout the encounter, the spell protects against any
biological transfers, including diseases and fertilization—therefore it is
hindering if a couple is trying to get pregnant. At use, the use need only
point his or her wand at the desired target and mutter the incantation, which
will result in a dim white light glow at the end of the wand. Etymologically,
the Latin word lubricus means "slippery" and the word labor means "slide,"
therefore together meaning "slippery slide."
Lubricus Laboricus Maxima is a spell that, being a stronger version of Lubricus
Laboricus, heightens the receiver's pleasure to a much greater level and allows
for instant penetration with no pain to the receiver whatsoever as the muscles
have been entirely loosened and the magical 'lubricant' feels to be in a
greater quantity.
The Oleus Solution is a potion made from the Oleus plant found only on the
western end of the Indonesian island of Flores. Created by the Italian wizard
Amoricus Fazzle, who was the product of two people under the enchantments of
Amortentia, Oleus Solution is a type of lubricant. During intercourse, one only
need apply two drops of this potion and not only will the cavity becomes slick,
but the surrounding muscles will all become relaxed enough to accommodate even
larger sizes of penetrable sources. Oleum is Latin for "oil."
The Perfodius Curse (Perfodio) is a curse used to pierce solid objects,
including people. The hole created by this curse does not allow anything but
its counter-curse to mend it, making this a deadly curse to any who're struck
by it as they will bleed out if not attended to by a skilled healer. The
Perfodius Curse is cast by pointing one's wand at a target, where the spell
will fire almost like a bullet—in speed—with a pewter glow to it. The counter-
curse is Expleo. Perfodio Maxima is a stronger version of this spell.
Expleo is the incantation for the counter-curse to Perfodio.
Perfodio Maxima is a spell that, being a stronger version of Perfodio, pierces
a target with a size similar to that of a cannon-ball, as opposed to a bullet.
The Stun-Balls are a German invention by the wizard Friedrich Steinkamp and
Mabhook in 2001. Taking Goblin metal, provided by his Goblin business partner,
who molded the metal into semi-circles, Steinkamp launched two dozen Stunning
Spells at a pair while fitting them together and rapidly rotating them. He then
fitted the circles with a magical bind that would make them appear to be whole
but would make a slight grind when pressed together. After cracking then and
making them impact another surface, the metal release every spell fired at it.
Through a contract with the German Ministry of Magic, the duo were able to mass
produce these for the law enforcement and eventually for law enforcement all
around the world.
 
 
                         | TRIVIA AND OTHER TID BITS |
The title of this story, Harry Potter and the Legacy of Thirty-Six is a
reference to the final chapter of the final book of the Harry Potter series. In
'Chapter Thirty-Six: The Flaw in the Plan' of Harry Potter and the Deathly
Hallows, several major lasting, yet ending plots extend from that very chapter.
It is May 2, 1998, and the final battle, the Battle of Hogwarts, ends and with
the death of Lord Voldemort, the Second Wizarding War draws to a close. Many
deaths have occurred because of this battle, a birth becomes significant with
this day, and years later it will always be an important day of the year—both
good and bad.
I tried to pay homage to J.K. Rowling in a second way: in Harry Potter: The
Page Beyond, J.K. Rowling admits that "This may surprise people, but it is the
truth...In many, many ways, Hufflepuff is my favorite House." I tried to honor
this during the twist on reality when I have Harry admit, "We should also add
that Jo is a distant descendent of Helga Hufflepuff so we feel a little more
justified in telling her."
The 'Prince from a Muggle video game' referenced in Chapter Ten, who says "A
sound plan" is Prince Arthas Menethil from Blizzard's Warcraft III: Reign of
Chaos—for anyone who's interested and/or hadn't yet guessed.
"…give a twiddle to the platinum…" is Reid Shallow's way of ordering his
lieutenant to summon Terry Bicknell, a highly gifted healer, to their location.
The 'platinum' refers to a platinum coin with two heads, one of Reid and the
other of Terry. The coin acts much like the Dumbledore's Army coin created by
Hermione Granger. It is activated by just twiddling the coin between the
holder's fingers.
The magazine Terry Bicknell is reading back at Room 707 has the headline 'A
Remedy to Cure All Ills?' Minus the question-mark, the title is from the sixth
episode of the first series of BBC One's Merlin. The title refers to the
poisonous Elanthia beetles carried by the dark sorcerer Edwin Muirden, who
comes to Camelot posing as a physician who claims to have the 'remedy to cure
all ills.'
Harry's pocket watch is enchanted in the same fashion as the Weasley's family
clock. There are eight positions on the clock, each represented by a letter—in
two cases two letters: B-Burrow, HM-Home, HP-Hospital, L-Lost, M-Mortal Peril,
P-Prison, T-Travelling, and W-Work. Both Harry and Charlie have identical
pocket watches, the insides of the lids covered in a candid picture from their
wedding. On the story's cover art, the pocket watch is featured in the
background behind Harry and Charlie.
 
 
                               | EXPLANATIONS |
Throughout The Witching Hour sequence, I tried to base the radio-speak off of
some of the formatting of National Public Radio (commonly known as NPR), a
well-known American privately and publicly funded non-profit membership media
organization. Based on the Chocolate Frog Card image of Glenda Chittock, I
pegged her character to be more like Rita Skeeter: rambunctious, spontaneous,
energetic, astounding, and even sometimes overly personal. However, with the
dialogue between Harry and Charlie after the interview, I hoped to account for
my different interpretation of her.
The title and inspiration of The Boy Who Lived: A Memoir comes from my
ownership of the late Christopher Hitchens' 2010 memoir, Hitch-22: A Memoir, as
well as Sir Salman Rushdie's 2012 memoir, Joseph Anton: A Memoir. Both unique
titles have a special meaning for both authors, the former as part of a word
game he used to play with his close friends, including Rushdie, and the latter
as the alias he used when he went into hiding after the Ayatollah Khomeini of
Iran pronounced a fatwā on Rushdie for his authorship of The Satanic Verses.
For Harry Potter, "The Boy Who Lived" was a name he was known by since he was a
baby and ten years before he even realized the name existed. In my view, Harry
would have hated this, as one of his long-term goals ws to just be Harry, or
rather, just be normal. And because his memoir was designed to correct the
three-quarters fabrication of Rita Skeeter's 1998 biography of him, Harry chose
this name for its contemptuous and ironic value.
I feel it necessary to provide a little insight into Harry and Cedric's
relationship glimpsed upon in the first interlude. I mentioned they were
'dating' but did put that in quotes for a reason. As admitted in Harry's
memoir, Cedric was gay and he and Cho were only ever friends, she a beard if
nothing else. What isn't mentioned in either the interview or the interlude is
that Cedric had a crush on Harry since their time at the 2004 Quidditch World
Cup. Finally, only at the Yule Ball, when Cedric shared the vague key to the
Golden Egg, did Cedric admit he had feelings for Harry. After their first
outing together sometime between the dance and the Second Task, the two agreed
that it would be too hard with the Tournament and the school pressure to be a
proper couple, but that they could meet knowing they had a great mutual
interest in one another. And they did: Harry often found himself being sent
encrypted notes and being pulled into abandoned classrooms for snogging
sessions and more. After the Second Task, the two were able to sneak away while
in Hogsmeade and share a less explicit, more romantic afternoon together; it
was the closest thing the pair ever had to a "proper date." Obviously, the
'First Time' meeting in the fifth floor prefects' bathroom on the eve of the
Final Task was their last intimate time together, as the next evening Cedric
was murdered by Peter Pettigrew. Because of the feelings that Harry'd been
developing for the Hufflepuff, and therefore the subsequent loss, he took this
harder than The Goblet of Fire let on. Although not in love-having never been
given the chance to fall for Cedric-Harry was heartbroken and would continue on
to date Cho the following year in an attempt to bury himself with someone who
felt his pain, on top of his own guilt as he blamed himself for Cedric's death;
because of that guilt, Harry felt obligated in a way to look after Cho, who had
been interested in Cedric despite the fact that they never dated. For
reference's and clarity's sake I also thought I'd spell out how I view Harry's
relationship history in this 'reality:'
[
Ron Weasley - wanking partner - October, 1993 - One time event/remained friends
after
Cedric Diggory - intimately dated - December 25, 1994-June 24, 1995 - Ended
because Diggory was murdered by Peter Pettigrew
Cho Chang - lightly dated - December, 1995-February, 1996 - Ended because Chang
became too overcome with jealousy and resentment/Eventually reconciled
Ginny Weasley - intimately dated - May 1997-June 30, 1997 - Ended because
Potter left to hunt Voldemort's Horcruxes - May 2, 1998-January 1, 1999 - Ended
because Weasley became too overcome with depression/remained friends
Oliver Wood - friends with benefits - October 16, 1999-March, 2000 - Ended
because Potter wanted more and Wood couldn't provide that with his Quidditch
schedule/remained friends
Ilana Dvoracek (Czech Muggle) - casual date - August 1, 2000 - Ended because
their Wizard/Muggle worlds clashed
Charlie Weasley- stable relationship - January, 2001-present- Married on July
7, 2003]
]
Harry Potter's dragon eggshell shirt is a protective garment that Charlie gave
Harry from the Romanian reservoir. The shirt is made of crushed down dragon
eggshells and refitted into threads, the outside of the shell able to withstand
some number of spells; it certainly cannot protect the wearer against the
stronger curses like the Killing Curse or Sectumsempra.
Chapter End Notes
     I'd like to thank all my readers, favoriters, and reviewers. This was
     a blast to write and all of the notice and feedback means a great
     deal. For those who want more, there IS a follow-up project, more
     from Reid Shallows' point of view. It will be a prequel/companion/
     sequel story so stay tuned! Again I'd like to thank you all and I
     hope you enjoyed this project.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
