eruditefics: (Default)
[personal profile] eruditefics
Title: Winky's Christmas Cheer
Gift For: [info]triomakesmehot
Gift From: [info]eruditefics
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 7,300
Summary: Winky has always wanted to celebrate Christmas. She finally finds the perfect victim beneficiary of her good intentions.
Warnings: Elvin drunkenness, copious employment of glitter, misuse of shepherd's pie, and some quick and sloppy frotting.
Beta: [info]pastry_slutbag
Author's/Artist's Note: This is fluff for Christmas, signifying nothing but awesomeness. It was epic fun to write.
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement in intended.

Winky the House Elf absolutely loved Christmas time. In truth, most house elves loved Christmas, because it gave them a chance to serve their masters and their guests through a heightened season of need, parties, and celebrations. However, Winky loved Christmas because it was about giving. She was always so jealous of witches and wizards who could give their loved ones carefully thought out gifts of appreciation to show how much everything meant to them. Her spirits always ended up falling (and she usually turned to butterbeer) when her fellow elves would rebuff her intentions and insist that the work they do should be gift enough for everyone. But she tried. Every year Winky tried to find a place for her Christmas Cheer to go.

As she began to snap her fingers and set the tables for another Hogwart's Holiday Feast, she paused and perked her ears up to listen to Headmistress McGonagall's annual toast. She always hung on every word like they were tiny little presents wrapped in colorful bows. At the elegant clearing of her throat, the Headmistress had quieted an entire room of rowdy students.

"The holidays are upon us again. As always, we must take the time to remember those we've lost who cannot be with us tonight," the Scottish woman raised her glass of whiskey, clinking it with Professor Hagrid's before taking a small drink and sighing. "But we need to also remember to celebrate our lives, and the lives of our families this season. It is a time for all humanity to bask in joy and give thanks for our many blessings and gifts. Let's make this Christmas a celebration of giving for those who deserve it the most."

"Hear hear!" rang the crowd of students and professors. Winky uttered her own quiet cheer along with them before one of the older elves elbowed her in the back and told her to get back to her work.

The rest of the evening, Winky smiled and laughed to herself as the children around her all filled themselves with festivity and laughter. She was determined to find a way to celebrate Christmas this year, even if no one else wanted to celebrate with her. As she refilled the coffers of pumpkin juice, she concocted a plan.


By the time Winky began to ready herself for bed in her tiny cubby beneath one of the shifting staircases, she had thought of dozens of ways to experience Christmas for herself. She thought maybe she could play Father Christmas and give all the children in the school a gift especially from her, but her excitement faded when she realized she didn't have enough yarn. Then she thought if she made pies all night, she'd have enough to feed any lonely wizard who needed a warm dessert; but how would she know who needed one? Finally, she decided she would do something perfectly special for one person.

At first, she thought her Headmistress was a logical choice for the recipient of her gift, but thought better of giving a gift to her employer. It hardly seemed appropriate. She went off the list of every witch and wizard at Hogwarts, but no one seemed to Winky to be the kind of person who would appreciate elf magic. They all took it for granted so easily. She thought of her fellow elves, but they all hated her because she drank too much butterbeer and didn't work as hard as they did, so those snobby little gits could rot in their cold cubbies all Christmas for all she cared!

After her fourth butterbeer of the evening, Winky was dizzy and hiccupping wildly. She could barely stay on her feet and she had the overwhelming urge to giggle. She stifled it; she knew all those terrible upitty little tightwad elves would be pounding on her cubby door and giving her an earful. She sat quietly on her bed and reached under her mattress for her tiny box of treasures. She knew she could find an idea for Christmas in there if she just thought about it hard enough.

The first item she pulled from her box was a picture of Dobby. She kissed it carefully, looking around to make sure that no one saw her do it, before shoving it back into the box. If he were there, they would have celebrated Christmas together, wearing bright socks and hats and singing carols. She had spent so long grieving for him when she heard he didn't make it back to Hogwarts that she had almost wasted away to nothing. She pulled out Dobby's favorite black sock and sniffed it with gusto, remembering how he used to lie there and smell it as he reminisced about Harry Potter.

Harry Potter.

The idea hit her like a ton of knobby woolen hats: Harry Potter had not only done the greatest service to the Wizarding World, but he comforted Winky when she found out about Dobby. That glorious wizard visited her every week to check on her, and still stopped by her cubby whenever he was in the castle. He was a good person, and deserved every Christmas wish he got. That night, after three more buterbeers, Winky had concocted the perfect plan.


Harry Potter was exhausted. He was beyond exhausted. Auror training was absolutely brutal. All he wanted to do was go home and pass out on the soft, worn out couch. Screw showering or shaving, he just wanted sleep. As he made his way up his front steps, he grumbled under his breath about Ron's early dismissal. The other wizard had managed to make it out of the obstacle course in record time by waiting to cast his spells until he had surveyed the whole room. With only three waves of his wand, Ron was out, and Harry was bitter.

In truth, while Harry was mad he had to spend all afternoon running drills with the rest of his failure of a team, he was so proud of Ron's success that it almost didn't matter. He felt like a fool when he grinned widely and wrapped Ron in a tight hug. He found any excuse to touch his best mate these days, and it was becoming embarrassing.

He realized he was gay when he and Ginny started experimenting physically and he didn't feel interested. At first he felt humiliated and guilty that he couldn't love Ginny the way she wanted him to, the way he was supposed to. But Ginny, being the goddess that she was, had helped Harry work through his feelings and eventually face the reality that he was well and truly into blokes. It had been eye opening for him, but he still hadn't managed tell anyone else what he was. Now, two years after the war, Harry's friends just thought he was asexual and not interested in a relationship. They probably just assumed it was some sort of Voldemort thing, and he didn't bother correcting anyone.

The realization that he wanted Ron came to him suddenly, and he kept that one to himself. He trusted Ginny and Hermione, but he was so heartbroken by the fact that Ron would never want him that way that he just let it simmer like a hot weight in his chest. It had always been Ron. From the very first day at Hogwarts, seeing Ron, being near Ron, and making Ron smile had become a reward for a life that seemed to throw him around more and more every year. Ron was his way back home, and he couldn't risk burning it all down because he had ridiculous and foolhardy feelings.

Harry shrugged off his robes and immediately got himself the biggest, coldest glass of water his tired magic could muster. He was sweaty and dusty and his legs were becoming more and more like jelly with every step. He was debating whether he'd fall into his unmade bed and pass out, or if he would find the strength to take a shower. He could only assume Ron had already gone up for his quick kip before dinner.

When Harry stepped into the living room, he literally cried out. Ron had indeed decided to take a nap, and he was passed out on their couch. However, he was sprawled out, completely starkers, with only a red bow covering his privates. Harry knew he should react, he knew something odd was going on, but he couldn't bring himself to look away from the expanses of smooth, freckled skin. Ron's chest had a flush to it, like he was warm, and Harry's fingers reached out, imagining what it would feel like to run his hands across it. When Ron shifted and the bow with him, Harry was given an eyeful of Ron's large, pink cock jutting erect from between his legs. Ron groaned and his hand wrapped around the hard length.

Harry moaned, and disguised it as a cough, instantly hating himself for cutting his guilty indulgence short. Ron flinched and sat up, rubbing his eyes and stretching out his lithe body. Harry made a point to look at Ron's shoulder and nowhere else as his face heated up like an ember.

"Sorry, mate. Must have passed-" Ron suddenly leapt up and scrambled behind the couch, flashing a pale, freckled ass at Harry that caused his mouth to water. "Where the fuck are my clothes?"

"So you didn't mean to kip buck ass naked on the couch with a bow on your privates? " Harry asked, knitting his eyebrows. "I figured you had some sort of…you know…date."

"Oh that's rich. You had to have done this!" Ron said, grabbing a blanket and wrapping it around his waist. "Are you mad that I got to leave early or something?"

"You know I don't care about things like that. I swear I didn't do this. I mean, why would I want to get you naked," Harry's voice croaked at the last part of his sentence. He could think of a million answers to that question.

As Ron rushed upstairs, Harry drew his wand. Maybe someone who had access to their wards had decided to play a trick on Ron. George was certainly known for his interesting pranks, and he could come and go in Grimmauld Place as he pleased. However, when Harry looked for a magical signature, he saw traces of magic he couldn't identify, and nothing that seemed like it could have come from the end of a wand. He began to search the house for signs of an intruder.

"Um…Harry?" Ron's voice ehoed in the hallway. Harry met him at the bottom of the stairs and Ron was in jeans now, holding a neatly folded pile of clothes with his wand balanced on top. "I found the clothes I was wearing today just like this on my bed."

"Yeah, I found this strange magical signature I can't place. Something weird is going on." Harry said, trying and failing not to look at Ron's still bare chest.

"Do you think it could be fairies?" Ron said, but then shook his head. "Mum says they only mess with domestic things though. The bow, that's strange."

"Do you want some take-out?" Harry asked, trying to change the subject away from the fact that he saw Ron starkers and can't stop thinking about it.

"I can always eat," Ron smiled warmly. Harry knew he was off the hook the moment he mentioned food.


As Ron went to order food, Harry bolted up the stairs for a much needed shower. He was still dirty from his day of training, and his stomach was in knots with need. He drew his wand and made sure the shower was as hot as it could be without scalding him, also casting a charm that would cancel out the sounds that he was about to make. Harry was painfully hard, and if he didn't wank soon, he was going to come in his pants like a third year Hufflepuff.

He peeled his clothes off and stepped into the steamy shower, immediately imagining that Ron was in there with him. He pictured Ron's perfect cock, pressing against his, with Ron's lips ghosting over his jawline and whispering words Harry longed to hear. He grabbed his erection and tried to pull slowly to prolong the fantasy, but he wanted it so badly, that he was nearly weak in the knees with it. The moment Harry began to think about what it would be like to have Ron inside of him, he came, biting his lip so that he wouldn't call out Ron's name.


Harry's eyes shot open and Ron was standing there. He cried out and slipped, falling backwards and hitting his tailbone hard on the tap. In the commotion, Ron dropped the takeout box he was holding into the water and grabbed at Harry to catch him. They both went tumbling down to the bottom of the deep tub, Ron's fully clothed and sopping body on top of Harry's.

"Umm, you okay?" Harry could hear Ron over the spray of the water, but he didn't want to open his eyes. He was so unbelievably mortified, he wished he could just go down the drain.

"I think I might have gotten shepherd's pie on your-"

"Can you please leave?" Harry whimpered. He kept his eyes squeezed shut until the door clicked and he knew for sure Ron was gone.

He dried off slowly, his hands shaking. He took his time trying to comb his hair, and even shaved, though he nicked his skin more times than he would have liked to admit. Finally, he had to open the door and face his best mate. Harry took a cleansing breath and stepped out, hoping not to make a sound.

When he saw Ron sitting in the hallway, his head against the wall and two take out containers stacked next to him, as though he was planning a picnic on the carpet, Harry felt a little more at ease. He cleared his throat and Ron jumped, immediately opening the packages and getting out a fork for Harry. The dark haired wizard was taken back to see that Ron's hands were trembling as well.

"I did the magical signature thing again. I found some wonky, unidentifiable magic too. It has to be a confused faerie who thinks I need cleaning instead of the house or something," Ron laughed. His laughter was a little too loud and sharp to be real, and Harry flinched a little.

"I…what did you…" Harry started to ask what Ron saw, but was suddenly positive he'd be better off not knowing.

"I saved you some Shepherd's pie. Sorry, my dinner got a bit…um…wet, so I ate a bit of yours," Ron said, blushing furiously.

"I'm so sorry that happened," Harry whispered. Ron just shrugged.

"How's your bum?"

"Smarts," Harry winced. Ron smirked and cast a cushioning charm so that Harry could sit down.

"Tried combing your hair, huh?" Ron asked between bites.

"An exercise in futility," Harry grumbled. Ron reached up and messed up his hair. Harry closed his eyes and struggled not to lean into the touch.

"I like it messy," Ron said quietly. He coughed a bit. "I'm going to go to Hermione's office at lunch tomorrow and see if she can help us with our faerie."

Harry thought that was probably a good idea, and relaxed enough to lean against Ron's warm shoulder with his own.


"I'm bloody mortified, Hermione! I'm irreparably damaged and you're tittering away like some schoolgirl!" Ron said indignantly. He had gone to Hermione's office to ask her about faeries, and to commiserate a little. After what happened yesterday, he didn't need anyone laughing at him.

"I'm sorry, Ron. Just the image of you sopping wet with the food hanging out of your mouth, well, you have to admit how funny it could be to someone without your delicate feelings," Hermione said, her face bright red with laughter. "And the bow! Trussed up like a Christmas goose!"

"You'd feel this way too," Ron mumbled, taking a drink of the tea she had offered him. She put a hand on his shoulder and sat at her guest chair across from him. Her office was small, but it was very comfortable. Ron enjoyed eating lunches in there from time to time. When she pulled off her shoes, wincing, Ron gestured for her to put her feet on his lap.

"My mother said these shoes would make me look smart in my new job. I don't understand how she can clean people's teeth all the time in these darn heels," Hermione whimpered when Ron began to work his long fingers on the soles of her feet. "I think this might be what I miss most about being your girlfriend."

"I'm not sure if I should be hurt or flattered," Ron smiled and she winked at him.

They had a good relationship while it lasted. He loved her and loved being a part of her life, but the spark seemed to die down as they grew older. Hermione was so focused on her education and career, that she barely even noticed Ron. And Ron was becoming more and more infatuated with his best mate. At first, he thought it was some sort of barmy phase, but after he and Hermione split, he couldn't get Harry out of his head. He promised himself he'd go without and never risk their friendship.

Since then, there have been a string of dates that went nowhere, and mad snogging sessions with birds that didn't feel right, but not once did Ron feel the need to go any further. He wanted to take Harry to bed, to kiss Harry, and to love Harry. He knew he couldn't, so he let it go. The slightly involuntary celibacy made him remarkably focused in Auror training, and remarkably lonely in every other area.

"It would be easier on you to just tell him how you feel," Hermione said gently, leaning forward to touch his hand.

"No it wouldn't! He's my best mate. He's never once mentioned liking blokes, let alone wanting me. And now that he's seen my skinny freckled arse and my tackle hanging out, there's even less of a chance for him to want me in that way," Ron said, taking a sandwich from the plate he brought up and eating it, barely noticing what kind it was.

"I think you're highly incorrect, Ron, but you know my thoughts on the matter," Hermione said, giving him a stern look. Hermione was the only one who knew that Ron liked blokes, let alone that he wanted one in particular. He just wasn't ready to let it all out there. If he was being honest with himself, Ron was afraid.

"You seem to think highly of me, but Harry's just…he's so…he's perfect. After all the shit I've pulled, I couldn't believe you'd take me back, what makes you think he would want someone like me?" Ron said, looking sadly down at his body.

"Someone like you is trustworthy, loyal, brave, and warm," Hermione said, she turned her head and blushed slightly. "You're beautiful too, Ron."

"'Mione, I-"

"The way Harry looks at you, it's like you raise the sun. I can't believe you can't see that," Hermione's voice dripped with sincerity. Ron had the good sense not to counter her.

"Well, there's some Faerie out there who hates me," He smiled, blushing and trying to change the subject.

"I really don't think it's a faerie. You're right, of course, the fae often only create mischief with domestic turmoil. This…thing…you have going on seems to be focused on tormenting you and Harry. I can't find a trickster sort of faerie in any of those books," Hermione explained, gesturing to the daunting pile on her side table.

"Pixies?" Ron asked, taking another piece of sandwich.

"No, their magic is too weak. I'll keep looking though, I know I missing something. I just can't put my finger on it," Hermione said, shuffling some papers. She reluctantly put her shoes back on, and cast a cushioning charm over them, though to Ron it looked like it didn't help at all.

"Ms. Granger, that meet is in Atrium Four in five minutes," a disembodied voice rang through Hermione's office. She quickly grabbed her bag to leave. She walked over and gave Ron a kiss on the cheek.

"It will be okay, Ron. I wish you would just see that." She said softly.

"I wish you would eat something before you go," Ron said, handing her half a sandwich. She immediately stuffed the whole thing in her mouth and smiled a bready smile at him, crumbs running down her chin. He chuckled quietly to himself as he went back to training.


The weekend came without any more incidents from Ron and Harry's Mad Pixie Faerie, and Ron was feeling much more relaxed around his flat mate. They had listened to the Canons play on the wireless the previous night with no major instances of nudity at all. They managed to get all their Christmas shopping done and grab some food at The Leaky Cauldron without once finding themselves in the shower together. Harry and Ron even managed to get slightly pissed without any interference from weird magical beings that wanted them to be in the altogether.

Ron fumbled with his wand before finally casting the spell that allowed them into Grimmauld Place. He was often a very clumsy drunk, but he always felt like he was unstoppable. So every trip and fall became hilarity that he obviously meant to do. He knew he had to sober up, but he couldn't seem to focus on where their sobering potion was. He dragged Harry into the drawing room, looked at his messy hair and his bright green eyes and laughed hysterically.

"Shut up!" Harry said, looking offended and swaying on his feet. "I look fine."

"Oh you definitely do, mate, but you're also fucking pissed!" Ron said, and sat down on the couch when the room stopped spinning. Harry sat down next to him until their shoulders were brushing together. Ron thought the other wizards smelled incredible, and leaned his nose in closer to Harry's warm neck.

"Mmmmm," Harry said, leaning against Ron. "You are so…you're just so Ron!"

Ron started laughing against the intoxicating warm skin of Harry's neck and brought a hand up to his shoulder. "Maybe we need to sleep this off."

"Maybe we need to sleep together," Harry said, throwing his head back and laughing at his own joke.

Ron suddenly didn't think anything was funny. Through his haze, he knew if he didn't focus he'd make a move on Harry thinking his best mate was serious and ruin everything. He pulled away from Harry and gripped the arm of the sofa to keep his hands from finding Harry's inviting body again.

"Where are you going?" Harry slurred. Suddenly, his legs were on either side of Ron's hips and his hands were in Ron's hair. The ginger man couldn't help but whimper. "You have perfect hair," Harry whispered.

"So do you," Ron answered before he could stop himself. "It's so messy and black!"

Just as Ron was about to reach out and touch Harry's face, the shorter wizard leaned over the side of the couch and vomited, his body shaking. Ron patted his back and tried to sooth him while the self loathing was rising in his own stomach. His buzz was quickly fading, and he summoned a sobering potion. He smelled it and knew Harry's sensitive stomach couldn't handle it, but he drank down the vile, swampy mix in one grateful gulp. His sober mind took one look at Harry, arse in the air over his lap, and immediately began to panic.

"I think we need to get you in bed. You're as drunk as a Scot!" Ron smiled, trying to mask his own fear and want.

"You'll always take care of me, won't you?" Harry asked, leaning his head on Ron's shoulder.

"Yeah mate," Ron croaked. He led Harry up the stairs, tucked him into his bed, and went to his own bed to have another wank at the feeling of Harry straddling his body and touching his hair.


Ron knew he had put his blanket on him before he fell asleep, but now he was unbearably cold. He reached out to find his quilt, but instead he found only air all around him. He thought it odd and kicked his feet to see if his covers had fallen at the foot of his bed. When his feet once again touched air instead of his mattress, Ron opened his eyes reluctantly to see what was going on.

Ron found himself hovering above Harry's bed, and immediately he reached down to check his state of undress. Luckily, his tormenter had left his pants on this time. Not so luckily, though, was the fact that he appeared to be covered in red and green glitter with lights strung throughout the air around him.  When he couldn't seem to break the hovering spell without falling on Harry, he had no choice but to wake the other wizard up.

"Ummmmm, Harry?" Ron said, shaking from the chill and from his own nerves.

"Whassit?" Harry mumbled into his pillow.

"I'm in a bit of a something up here," Ron said, chuckling shakily. He heard the covers rustle, and suddenly Harry's nose was pressed into the center of his back.

"Ron?" Harry's muffled voice vibrated against his skin. "If mah fafe in yer bahk?"


As soon as Harry moved, Ron turned on his side and fell to Harry's bed in a cascade of glitter and lights. He quickly leapt out of the bed to get the mess off of him, but only further entangled the lights and got glitter in his mouth. He was spitting furiously when he felt Harry's warm hands begin to touch his bare skin to untangle the lights. Ron held his breath more to keep himself from getting too aroused than from getting glitter in his lungs.

When Harry was finally finished, he brushed his hands together in a cloud of glitter and grinned up at Ron. "Merry Christmas, apparently," Ron said, shaking his head out.

Harry reached out and brushed his hand down Ron's chest, getting more of the stubborn bits of glitter off. Ron's stomach was flipping, and he clenched his hands behind his back to keep from reaching out. When Harry took a deep breath and blew on Ron's chest, he was thankful he giggled, or he may have moaned. The wizard was glad the sun was beginning to come up, as he didn't think he would ever sleep again.

"I'm going to go take a shower. I need to get this barmy mess off of me," Ron said, picking glitter out of his arm hair.

"Don't forget the shepherd's pie," Harry laughed. Ron took a handful of glitter from his hair and blew it in Harry's face. Just as Ron was reaching into the linen closet for a towel, Harry shouted "Wait!"

Ron rushed back in and lifted his eyebrows at Harry, who had just looked like a million light bulbs had went off in his head.

"Kreacher," Harry said, snapping his fingers. The old elf appeared, a towel still in his hands.

"Master Potter better have a good reason for interrupting Kreacher's housework. You always leave the kitchen a fright…"

"I do not!" Ron said indignantly before Harry quelled him with a look.

"Do you know who or what has been sneaking in this house and playing pranks?" Harry asked carefully.



"Can you tell me who or what has been sneaking in this house and playing pranks?" Harry asked, his voice growing rougher and more angry.


"Kreacher! Tell me right now who has been coming in this house and playing pranks!"

"Winky has, master," Kreacher spit out his answer with disdain. "Kreacher doesn't see how it's any business of hers, but what does Kreacher know about Christmas? Kreacher is a good elf. Kreacher works hard even for blood traitors…" the elf's voice faded away as he shuffled off.

"Go to Hogwarts and bring her to me." Harry sighed, sounding exhausted. Ron patted him on the back out of habit. The house elf immediately disappeared.

Ron and Harry rushed down to the kitchen and put on tea, just as they were pouring their cuppas, Winky and Kreacher appeared. She looked scared out of her mind and he looked bored. He sat her down in a chair that was ten sizes too big for her, and looked up at Harry. Harry just nodded, but Kreacher didn't leave. Instead, he sat in the corner with a curious grin on his face. Winky looked ready to iron her hands at any second.

Harry's face changed from frustrated to soft, and he flicked his wand so that Winky's chair changed to adjust for her size. He sat down across from her and met her eyes. Ron was too nervous and confused, and just continued to pace as little sparkles of red and green fell with each movement. After a few deep breaths, Harry spoke.

"Why have you been playing tricks on us, Winky?" Harry asked calmly. Even before he could finish his sentence, Winky let out a pitiful wail that made Ron's ears sting.

"Not a trick. Winky is not a tricky elf. Winky just want to do something nice for Harry Potter on Christmas, since Harry Potter did so many nice things for Winky and Dobby,"  Winky sobbed, and began slamming her head on the table. Ron went over and put his hands on her tiny shoulders to stop her from killing herself.

"Winky, I'm not mad at you. In fact, thank you for my gift!" Harry squeaked. Ron looked up at Harry, completely lost, but his best mate just shrugged his shoulders.

"Oh, so Winky did good? Winky's present worked?" she asked as she tried to calm her sobs.

"Oh yeah, yeah, of course!" Harry said smiling. He was looking at Ron and shaking his head.

"I'm a bit out of the loop here, Winky. What exactly is your present?" Ron asked, taking a seat next to her. Harry took a seat on the other side.

"It's you! WInky knows Harry Potter's mind. She spent days watching what he's thinking, and when she finally saw what he wanted most, she made it happen," She smiled proudly. She threw up her hands and more red and green glitter popped out.

Ron was about to laugh when he looked over and saw Harry with his head in his hands. He looked at Winky, who was now dancing around, and couldn't resist asking the question he was pretty sure he knew the answer to. "Winky? What did Harry want? What did you see in his head?"

"Ron, please…" Harry groaned, clenching his fists.

"Well, house elves are bred to know what master is needing. We can see what he wants even if he won't say so. That's how come we is good elves," She stood up on the table and flourished her hands, rocketing off another spout of glitter all over Harry's bent head. "Harry Potter is wanting his Wheezy! Winky is getting his Wheezy!"

Ron heard a thud as Harry's head hit the table. "Winky, no," Harry whispered.

"It's true, Harry Potter! You want your Wheezy. It's written all over you!" Winky said, dancing along the table and singing God Rest Ye Marry Gentlemen. "And I got him for you! I thought it didn't work at first, but look, The Wheezy is still here!"

"Kreacher," Harry started. "Can you start packing me a bag?"

"Kreacher, take Winky and leave!" Ron shouted suddenly overcome. He was beyond reason. He wanted those damned elves to leave, and he couldn't handle if Harry walked out that door. The house elves disappeared quickly, both of their large eyes growing impossibly larger with fright. Ron closed the door behind him, taking a deep breath, and steeling his courage.


Harry couldn't move. His mind was screaming at him to say something, to do something, but he was frozen. He could feel Ron slipping away. He knew Ron was going to leave. After ten years, the best part of his life was about to vanish for good.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered weakly, getting up and walking toward the doors.

"Stop." Ron's voice was quiet, be belied a power that sent chills down Harry's spine. He wasn't sure what to expect. Harry slowly turned around to find that Ron was right behind him. He gasped and turned his head.

"I mean it Ron. Please, just let me leave. I'll still come to The Burrow on Christmas, but I think it'd be best if I take off for a while," Harry said, trying to figure out where he would stay. He hoped Andromeda would take him in on short notice. He looked at his feet and waited for Ron to deliver some sort of blow.

"Harry, look at me…please," Ron was whispering, his breath hot near Harry's ear.

Harry just shook his head. He felt he had no right to look at Ron's deep blue eyes. He had betrayed his best friend by falling for him. He ruined everything they built together, and Harry was filled with guilt and revulsion. He couldn't stop wanting Ron, so he had to go away.

Suddenly, Ron's calloused fingers were under Harry's chin, pulling his face up to meet the taller wizard's eyes. Harry wanted to keep his eyes shut, but he felt the familiar pull Ron had over him and he couldn't help but look up. Ron's blue eyes were warm, and there was a glint of determination in them that made Harry's mouth water. He wanted so badly to kiss Ron, despite his humiliation, and licked his lips before he could stop himself.

Ron's lips were on his before Harry could draw his next breath. He was frozen. Obviously he had hit his head or was grievously ill and the last few days had been a fever dream. There was no way his best friend was kissing him. As Ron's kiss deepened, Harry was positive there was no way his best mate was snogging him. He intended to put his hands on Ron's shoulders and push him away, but instead, Harry was pulling Ron closer to him. He was desperate for the delusions to last a little longer.

When Ron's chest pressed up against Harry's own, he could feel Ron's heart racing through their shirts. The knowledge that Ron's beating heart was present between them was enough to make Harry come out of his trance and pull away from Ron breathlessly. What in the world was he doing? When let out a pitiful whimper at the loss of contact and Harry's head began to spin.

"Ron, what-" Harry began to ask, trying to try himself farther from Ron and eventually pressing his back against the wall.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Ron whispered, his hands flopping to his sides. "All this time?"

"For longer than you'd care to hear," Harry answered, blushing.

"Since I saw you dead…that's how long I've known for." Ron said, his voice croaking. He took a deep breath before he continued.

"I tried to give it a go with Hermione. I just thought my emotions were going barmy after the war. But that wasn't it at all. When it was there, in front of my face, when I had to see Hagrid carrying your dead body, I knew I loved you, and that I had loved you for a long time. After that, I just had to force myself to let it go," Ron's voice was shaky as he finished his sentence.

"Or I'd lose you for good."

"This is…Ron you…" Harry couldn't find his words. Everything finally felt like it was clicking into place, and Harry felt overwhelmed and anxious and desperate all in the same breath. "Kiss me again."

Ron let out a growl that went straight to Harry's cock and slammed him against the wall. His kisses were urgent and Harry could feel himself melting beneath Ron's touch. Fire surged inside of him and he began to meet Ron's power, his hands gripping Ron's back for support as his tongue plundered Ron's warm mouth. The amount of force knocked Ron against their kitchen table, and he grunted but never broke the kiss.

When Ron's arse rested against the table top, Harry's erection brushed against Ron's through their jeans. Both wizards groaned wantonly and began thrusting quickly against each other. Harry's lips traveled down Ron's long neck, and Ron leaned his head to give Harry better access. Harry reveled in the taste and smoothness of Ron's pale skin, still pressing wildly against the other man.

"I used to wank about you in Hogwarts, while you slept right there," Harry whispered against Ron's neck, shivering with want when Ron's voice rippled through his chest. "I used to picture going into your bed and wrapping my lips around your perfect cock."

"Fuck, yes, Harry. I would have loved to feel you sucking me off. Want you so much," Ron moaned. Harry felt like he had opened up the gates to a closed off passage in his mind, and he wanted to set everything free. "Wank over you in the shower nearly every day."

"Mmmm yes. I imagined what it would feel like to be fucked by you," Harry's stomach was clenching and unclenching. He was nervous, but he knew Ron liked hearing him talk. He could feel Ron's erection twitching even through their layers of clothing. It didn't surprise him, Ron always vocalized his thoughts, and sex should be no different.

"Going to fuck you, Harry. Only you. You're the only one I want. Forever, Harry," Ron was kissing along Harry's neck, his hands reaching up the back of Harry's shirt. When Ron's fingers brushed along his spine, Harry arched his back, desperate for more. To hear Ron promise forever was making Harry's heart swell. "It's been so long…wanted this for so long…"

"Me too Ron. No more waiting. It's you and me from now on," Harry's voice was louder. He was serious, and he needed Ron to know this wasn't an idle promise. He pulled back and searched Ron's face. His gorgeous eyes swam into focus and Harry could see the same promise reflected here. When Ron's mouth split into a wide grin, Harry kissed him again, softly and full of the rest of the words he was dying to say.

"I want to touch you, Harry. I want to see you. When you were in the shower, I almost couldn't stop," Ron moaned, pulling at Harry's tee shirt. Harry lifted his arms and then moved himself back into Ron's embrace. He tugged at Ron's shirt until the ginger man finally took his off as well.

Harry paused, leaning back to let his eyes rake up and down Ron's form. He was long, pale, and quite thin. Though his arms and chest had gotten some muscle with Auror training, his ribs still showed a little and his waist was very narrow. Harry relished in the ability to finally look without hiding his stares, and took a moment to trace his fingers along the scars up and down Ron's arm and the very large indentation on his shoulder.

Ron took his turn, leaning down and letting his lips trail over the various scars along Harry's torso. The final battle had left his skin marred, and Harry was a little self conscious about it. But Ron seemed to want to memorize every one, kissing and touching, moving behind Harry to kiss the one on his back before coming back to the front.

"Ron, you are incredible," Harry breathed, bracing his hands against Ron's chest. Ron just blushed and looked away. "I mean it."

Harry's cock twitched painfully, and he was desperate to feel Ron's as well. He ran his hands down Ron's body and began to unclasp his jeans. He felt Ron tremble beneath his ministrations and thrust his cock up against Ron's bulge. They both groaned and Harry's hands quickly freed Ron's cock. It was long, thick, and heavy in Harry's hand. His mouth watered and he feared he would come in his pants at the touch. Ron had his head thrown back, and the muscles of his neck were taught. Harry ran his tongue up one as he stroked Ron.

"You too, Harry," Ron said through gasps. He had Harry's cock out before the dark haired man could even reach down to help. When Ron's large hand wrapped around both of their dicks, Harry thrust into the hot pressure. They both groaned and held on to each other for dear life. Harry brought Ron in for a searing, desperate kiss before burying his head in Ron's neck.

"I'm going to come, Ron. Fuck, I'm going to come," Harry's heart was pounding out of his chest and he could see stars.

"Come for me Harry. Always for me," Ron growled.

Harry repeated Ron's name like a spell as his body finally gave in. He felt Ron's body echo his own, and culminate in a warm, wet mess over their hands. They stood there, frozen, and catching their breath before Ron reached for his wand in on the table and cleaned them up.

Harry looked up at him, giving Ron a chance to back away and end it now before they got in even deeper. However, Ron just put his arms around Harry, pressed their foreheads together, and grinned so widely, Harry felt his own echoing smile stretch instantly across his face. They both chuckled quietly before Harry once again leaned his chin on Ron's shoulder and took a deep breath.

"So what happens next?" Harry said, nuzzling along Ron's damp skin as Ron ran lazy circles over Harry's back with his fingertips.

"Everything, mate," Ron said cryptically. "Now that you have your Wheezy, you've got him forever."


Christmas morning in Hogwarts Castle was always very quiet. There weren't many children, and the ones there were opened their presents, ate their food and went about their days. Most of the houselves used their time to catch up on chores like polishing the armor or the trophies. Winky, however, wanted to celebrate Christmas for real.

She apparated to Grimmauld Place, anxious to see if Harry Potter had stockings up; if he and Wheezy were enjoying puddings and glitter, mistletoes and caroling. But the house was empty when she got there. She blinked sadly a few times, and then realized that they might be at Wheezy's home and quickly apparated herself to The Burrow.

Winky could hear laughter and rushed toward the front door, hiding around a corner. There was a room full of witches and wizards holding beautifully wrapped boxes and smiling at each other. Everyone was wearing a sweater with a letter on it, and there was a fire sparking in the hearth. Winky could smell cocoa and treats in the kitchen. Everything looked perfect.

She found Harry Potter and his Wheezy sitting in a corner sharing a secret smile. Wheezy looked around, and then stole a quick kiss from Harry Potter, grinning shyly before turning back to his gift. Winky could feel the excitement tingle through her body. She had finally managed the perfect Christmas present. Now that she had the hang for gift giving, she knew next Christmas was going to be even more magical.


eruditefics: (Default)

December 2012


Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 23rd, 2017 02:38 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios