Hello there, dear readers.
Surprised you, didn't I?
Long time has passed since the last upload, and I'm woefully sorry some of you have been waiting for this for er… two and a half years or so. I rather doubt it's worth that much waiting, but I've done my humble best to make this dessert hot, sweet and sticky like a warm chocolate pudding or, I suppose, a treacle tart (never had one, I'm sorry to say), and laid it out as nicely as I could think of. Garnished with flowers, no less.
Warnings: Contains slash and is rather smutty. And fluffy. You can decide which is worse.
I hope you enjoy it anyway.
The Story of Harry and Cedric
by Hermione Granger
The moniker 'Boy Who Lived' is a curious one. From the very beginning it was in the past tense, even if Harry was still alive. That discrepancy, I believe, contributed to the startled reactions people exhibited when they met Harry for the first time. Because of the past tense of the moniker, they had been used to the idea that Harry wasn't a real, living, breathing person, but instead a hero of a fable. Furthermore, Harry was so very young at the time the moniker was born that it could easily be argued that he had barely lived at all, before Voldemort killed his parents. He couldn't remember anything clearly from before it, so his life really only began after he got the famous scar. So why the past tense? Why not 'Boy Who Lives' instead?
The answer of course is that the moniker itself is a fable, albeit a really short one. It is a story of Harry distilled to the bare minimum. A slightly longer version would be 'The Boy Who was hit by a killing curse and Lived to defy Voldemort' or 'The Boy Who should have been killed by a mortal curse, but Lived on'. The extraordinary thing is not that he lives, billions of people do, but that he lived through the curse that should have finished him off. In this case, the past tense never meant that Harry had stopped living. Indeed, he still hasn't.
Similarly, 'The Boy Who Loved' doesn't mean that the love is finished and done with, but it is a short story about an incredible event and an extraordinary hero. The Boy Who Loved so much, and so purely, that he received the ultimate blessing. Against all odds, all boundaries of belief, Cedric was saved from the clutches of Death itself and lived happily, well, if not ever after, at least years and decades onwards. And all because of love.
THE BOY WHO LOVED
19 days later
It was high summer and the sun was hot, bees were buzzing and couples headed to parks and beaches all over Britain. A new war had started, if only in preparation, but muggles didn't know that, the Ministry didn't believe it, and even for those select few who knew and believed, this perfect day offered some consolation and a nice interlude before the dark days they knew were coming.
Harry and Cedric stole the day for themselves. They had been adviced against it (by Hermione), forbidden from doing it (by Molly) and helped to sneak out without getting caught (by Fred & George, obviously). Now, they strolled at their leisure along a path in a park. They'd just bought and eaten most excellent cones of lemon sherbet from an ice cream cart. They had backpacks with towels, food, drink and something to read in them. On their left there was a football field with a team of boys practising. To their right, a gently rolling lawn with groups of oaks scattered on the slightly higher ground.
However cute and shirtless some of the football boys were, Harry and Cedric took no more than a passing interest in them. Cedric headed half a mile or so further towards a rather large patch of old forest preserved within the park.
"Where are you taking me?" Harry inquired when they entered into the rustling shadow of the huge ancient oak trees.
"Well," Cedric said, "I've never been here, but I think we could use some privacy, dont't you?"
"Sure," Harry said, "I don't mind privacy. Especially if it's private enough…"
"I hope it'll do, love," Cedric said. "Or what would you say about an old sacred grove with permanent muggle repellent spells and an ancient shrine dedicated to love?"
"Wow," Harry answered. "That sounds… pretty intimidating, actually…"
"We don't have to do anything, if it doesn't feel right," Cedric assured him.
"Right," Harry muttered, but he still nurtured misgivings, despite his curiosity about the place Cedric was leading him to.
But when they found the place, Harry was sold. It wasn't any grand and pompous romanesque ruin he realised he'd been expecting, but a charming orchard with lots of old but healthy apple and cherry trees standing on a meadow bursting with all sorts of wild flowers. In the middle of the trees there was a cozy little alcove of sorts, with what looked like a natural spring of water flowing from the bottom of a stone basin, then bubbling merrily away as a small brooklet. Behind the basin there was a bed of softest, greenest grass, divided from the rest of the orchard by a low stone wall topped with ancient oak pillars supporting an equally weathered frame of rafters. There was no roof though, only delicate green vines climbing all over the old stone and wood.
"Those look exotic," Harry remarked, " I don't think I've ever seen that kind of vines before."
"Neville must be rubbing off on you," Cedric said, "I wouldn't have thought you'd notice."
"Yeah," Harry admitted, "you know how he gets. It's hard not to learn something when he is so enthusiastic about the plants and stuff. So what is it?"
"Cupid's Vine," Cedric said, "I don't know much about it, except it has some magical properties and it's often used in love potions and stuff like that. People claim it only blossoms when true lovers make love beneath it. I thought maybe we'd give it a shot?"
"It doesn't even have buds yet," Harry said. "So I guess we're here at the wrong time of year."
"Maybe," Cedric said, and shrugged.
The first kiss was light, sweet and still tasted of lemon. The boys had settled on the grassy bed with their beach towels and gotten comfortable, which in plain English meant that they had gotten rid of their shirts and given their hands free rein. That, as it happens, pretty soon made the boys forget their beautiful surroundings.
"Do you…" Harry hesitated, breaking the rather heated kiss they were sharing, "do you think we could do it the other way today?"
"You mean…" Cedric left the question hanging in the air.
"I," and now Harry blushed, severely, "I'd like to try… you know… being on top."
"But you've been," Cedric said, perplexed, "on top plenty of times… Oh! You mean…"
"Yeah," Harry said, a bit too quickly. "So can I?"
"Sure." Cedric grinned. "I rather like you being all manly and everything, you know. Come here, handsome."
And Harry leaned forward, and they kissed again, the action gradually turning wetter, sloppier and more breathless. After a while Harry started to travel down from Cedric's mouth, kissing his way across his neck, licking his slightly sweaty collarbone and then diving to sniff and nuzzle the patch of dark hair under his arm. Harry still couldn't believe how good Cedric smelled to him, the sweatier the better. It seemed like Cedric's scent was the perfect aphrodisiac for him, and it made Harry hard and eager.
However, Harry had a plan to stick to, and the first step was to make sure Cedric would be enjoying himself, and be as relaxed as possible, when it would be time for… well, he'd think about the mechanics later. Or just improvise.
Now, Harry gave Cedric's ticklish side a playful lick and let his lips travel to Cedric's nipples, gaining a sudden intake of air between Cedric's teeth. He slid lower, his tongue marking the path between Cedric's pecs down to his navel, then along the trail of hairs, fuzzy at first, but thick and coarse at the base of his cock. It jumped eagerly at Harry's touch. Harry licked the head and swirled his tongue around it before inhaling as much of Cedric's hardness in his mouth as he could. That still left enough of the base to be gripped with his fingers. He started to wank Cedric while sucking him at the same time, which made Cedric moan and writhe in the most rewarding fashion on the grass. Harry didn't stop, quite the opposite, and increased the tempo a bit. Not much later he noticed Cedric's balls tightening with the promise of an oncoming orgasm.
"Hey, Harry… you'd better stop… before I loose it," Cedric managed to warn him between his breaths.
Since Cedric loosing it was definitely his goal, Harry didn't pay his words any attention. Instead, he added his left hand to the mix and gently cupped Cedric's balls in his palm. That was enough. Cedric lost it, and his first load shot out and into Harry's grinning, slurping mouth. Cedric came copiously, in several more spurts that Harry didn't collect in his mouth like the first one, but instead let them fly, splatter and pool on Cedric's flat tummy instead. His plan had re-emerged.
Gently spreading Cedric's long legs, Harry wetted his fingers in the viscous liquid now covering Cedric's body and carefully inserted first one, then another digit into Cedric's arse. Happy, relaxed and obliging Cedric spread his legs some more to make his preparations easier. The gesture turned Harry on more than was strictly speaking decent, and he felt a heady rush of blood into his lower regions. He wondered in passing if this wonderful, hot surge of light-headed desire was in fact just a symptom of the lack of oxygen in his brain. If so, he didn't mind. The sight of Cedric sprawling in front of him, legs spread and his manhood half soft but still big, heavy and oozing against the top of his leg made Harry beside himself with want. He removed his fingers halfway and let a mixture of his spit and Cedric's spunk fall from his mouth on them for more lubrication.
With his right hand, Harry managed to grope his wand from the entangled heap of clothes. He pointed it to his member.
"Lubricatum Masculinus," Harry muttered under his breath, and there it was, the shimmering sheath of lubrication spell, making sure Cedric wouldn't be hurt by his possibly clumsy first attempt at fucking another boy. Harry tossed the wand aside.
"Here goes," he then said, nudged himself deeper between Cedric's legs, removed his fingers and used his wand hand to point his cock in the right direction. Harry pushed, followed by the slightly amused but very much approving gaze of his lover, and felt the head of his cock slip inside. They both gasped.
Cedric had, obviously, been enjoying himself immensely while Harry had been giving him that most excellent blowjob. He had smiled to himself watching the serious determination on Harry's face when he made the preparations for the main number. But now, when Harry made his entrance, as it were, he was filled with not only an ample amount of hardness, but also an overwhelming feeling of tenderness and affection, of love for Harry and a desire much deeper than mere bodily lust. Despite being older and strikingly good-looking, he really didn't have that much more experience than Harry, and so far Oliver had been the only lover who had ever shagged him. The others had been flimsy and fast hand- and blowjobs, mostly fun but in the end not very satisfying affairs. He desired this intimate closeness with Harry to go on for years and years, to have this wondrous boy to grow into a man beside him, to share his life with his; body, heart and mind. He wanted this amazing here and now, this present moment that was constantly turning into a memory of making love to Harry, to continue infinitely into the unknown future, to bind them together for all their lives.
And then, just when these half-formed ideas, more instinctive than intellectual, had time to register in the conscious part of his mind, Harry touched the sweet spot inside him, and Cedric's world turned incandescent with pleasure. All thoughts forgotten, he wrapped his long legs around Harry's waist and tightened his arms around Harry's shoulders. Hungrily and blindly, eyes tightly shut, he sought Harry's mouth with his own and kissed him, rough and needy. Harry started to rock his pelvis, thrusting into him and stroking again and again that bud of pleasure inside him. Cedric opened his eyes and found Harry's amazing green eyes staring at him intently. And he gazed back, how could he not. It was so good, he felt like he could see into the very core of Harry Potter, and it was just as honest and true as the rest of him.
"Yes," Cedric gasped, when another spasm of delight claimed him. "Fuck."
"What?" Harry asked between his breaths.
"Fuck me," he said. "Harder."
And Harry did. It became hot, and raw, and very much physical. Their limbs and muscles and bodies were locked together but still moving, almost like in a desperate fight but in fact mating. Their fingers were scratching red marks on sweaty skin in their bid for even more closeness. Cedric was totally hard, his cock trapped between their bodies and in the sticky goo of his first orgasm. After a while Harry's moves started to loose the rhytm and become unpredictable, predicting the imminent explosion. When it came, it hit them both with a force of an eartquake, making their bodies rattle and their shouts incoherent. Cedric actually didn't know if he was shouting, but someone certainly was, and it sort of sounded like him. The only thing he could do was to keep looking at those incredible green eyes.
"So," Harry asked after a while, when their tremors had calmed down, still looking at him. "I did good, didn't I?"
"Darling, baby, my love. It was so good," Cedric said. "Better than good. Perfect. Mindblowing."
"Better than Oliver?" Harry asked, looking sheepish.
"Who?" Cedric asked. "Whoever you mean, you just made me forget all about him. I love you, Harry."
And when he finally looked away from Harry's eyes and let his gaze slide above their heads, he saw that the flowers of the Cupid's Vine were blossoming.
"Look," he breathed. "The vine. It's in full bloom."
And it was. New flowers were budding and opening even as he spoke.
After they'd got their breath back in control and their limbs more or less in order, Harry reached over for Cedric's hand while they were lying side by side on their backs, watching the sparse clouds travel on the dizzyingly blue summer sky above the silhouetted, flowering branches.
"Do you think we'll ever get to live happily ever after?" Harry asked, twining his fingers in between Cedric's.
"Do you think anybody does?" Cedric asked in return.
"No," Harry said after giving it some thought, "I guess not. Not like in fairy tales. Life's probably full of trouble whatever you do, no matter how much you love somebody."
"But," Cedric said, "loving somebody makes it all worthwhile, I think. Especially you."
"Yeah," Harry said, "it does." He kissed Cedric for good measure and mused on the thought a bit longer. "You do," he then added.
For the moment, he was content. All around them, scarlet and pink petals floated down by the hundreds, some of them sticking to the remains of their lovemaking on their skin. Up on the vines the flowers maturing into fruits were replaced by new flowers, budding, opening and maturing again at an incredible speed. It was like watching days and weeks of growth condenced into a few minutes.
Sometimes, Harry mused, life was simply amazing. Almost like… you know, magic.
THE END (again)