Disclaimer:This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Summary: Trying to make mashed potatoes, Harry fails horribly and ends up covered in the lumpy food. So Charlie decides that the boy needs to get cleaned up. Taking him upstairs, the man offers Harry a method the boy can't resist.

Warning: Lemon in future chapters

"Oh it's so good to see you, dear," Molly gushed, giving Harry a motherly hug.

Said savior blushed something fearsome and lowered his eyes. "Thank you, Mrs. Weasley."

Someone off to his right chuckled good naturally. "You're gonna suffocate him, mum."

Molly let Harry go and placed her hands on her hips. "Oh be quiet, Ron, and put your things up in your room. You too, Harry."

Ron snickered, taking his secondhand trunk and dragging it up the stairs, Harry trailing behind him.

They reached Ron's room quickly enough, dropping their things on the floor and collapsing on their respective beds.

Harry looked up at the orange ceiling before twisting his neck so that he could look over at his best friend. "Hey, Ron?"

The red haired boy hummed, flipping through a worn looking Quidditch Through the Ages.

Harry bit his lip and gazed back at the ceiling. "Is your entire family coming over for tomorrow?"

Ron laughed. "Of course, mate. It's Christmas!"

The Boy Who Lived chuckled weakly and whispered, "Yeah…"

The other boy frowned, but just as he opened his mouth to question him, a voice from downstairs yelled, "Boys! Get down here, and welcome the others!"

Ron rolled his eyes, rolled out of his bed. "Come on, Harry. Better hurry before she drags us down."

Harry shook his head, a small smile on his face. "Be nice, Ron."

Ron flashed him a grin. "I'm always nice."

The dark haired boy raised an eyebrow, rising from his bed and heading toward the door. "Yeah in Opposite World."

Ron bit down a laugh, following Harry down the stairs. "That was a terrible comeback, mate."

Harry pouted although Ron couldn't see it and entered the kitchen. "Shut up, Ron. Maybe I was trying to be terrible."

"I don't think you could be terrible even if you tried, Harry."

Both boys jumped and spun around. Ron's eyes narrowed as he glared at the smirking man. "Don't scare us like that, Charlie!"

The man, Charlie, snickered. "You should be more aware of your surroundings. Anyway, mum wants you to help her set the table, Ron."

While the two were talking, Harry had been trying to will down the blush he could feel creeping up his neck. However, now he tilted his head and, confused, asked, "What about me?"

Charlie grinned. "You, my good man, have the privilege of being in my wonderful company while we peel the potatoes."

'Initiate blush now,' Harry thought dryly knowing that his cheeks must rival the man's dark auburn hair at that point.

Ron outright laughed. "Wonderful company my arse!" He shook his head and, as he was walking out of the room, said, "Good luck, mate."

Charlie chuckled and gazed down at Harry. "Well, are you ready to get started on those potatoes, Harry?"

The boy gulped and nodded, not trusting his voice. He was led to the sink where an array of peeled potatoes lay.

The man grinned and winked at Harry which only served in making him blush harder. "We really were supposed to peel the potatoes, but I got a head start. So now we just have to mash them. And I think that it would only be fair that you do it since I peeled them."

Harry pouted, the redness in his cheeks fading. "Fine. Where's the mixer?"

Charlie smiled and placed one of his hands on Harry's cheeks, rubbing one of them with his thumb. He held back a chuckle when those cheeks burned under his hand. Taking back his hand, he opened one of the cupboards and took out a mixer. "Here you are."

Harry stared at the potatoes, avoiding looking at the man, and took the mixer, whispering, "Thanks."


A booming laugh filled the room. "Oh Merlin! Harry, have you ever used a mixer?"

Harry groaned and sank lower to the floor. "It's been awhile."

The walls, windows, and Harry were covered in lumpy mashed potatoes. The boy's hand had been too loose so when he started the mixer, it flew out of his hand and splattered everything with the tan food. Charlie had dodged in time, so he was still clean.

The man grinned and pulled the fifteen year old from his spot on the ground. "Come on let's get you cleaned up."

And as he pushed Harry up the stairs, he whispered a quiet scourgify on the room, cleaning it of the mess and leaving it spotless.

He smirked, and continued on up after Harry, pulling him into the bathroom once he reached the boy.

Harry watched as Charlie closed the door after them. The man twisted around so that he could look at Harry, and grinned. "Strip."

Harry sputtered. "Excuse me!" he exclaimed in a high pitched voice.

Charlie's eye lids lowered and he bent down to Harry's ear, whispering, "I said strip, Harry."

Harry almost groaned as Charlie purred out his name. However, he held it back, breathing heavy. "Al-alright."

To Charlie, it was a cross between being aroused for the first time and being thrown into a popular strip joint. Harry had been shivering and jittery through the entire process until, finally, he was down to his boxers. As skinny as the boy had looked in his clothes, it was completely opposite without them. His stomach, instead of being concave like Charlie had expected, was toned and muscled. The boy's arms had wiry muscles, probably from quidditch, and his legs were well defined. It took all of Charlie's self control to banish the image of the boy panting underneath him, his strong legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

Harry had stopped at his dark blue boxers, not willing to take away his last piece of dignity. He daringly looked up at Charlie's face to see what he should do next. But the man was looking him over with narrowed eyes, and Harry had to focus on willing down the massive erection he was getting.

"Good, Harry. Now let's get rid of the rest of those potatoes."

And suddenly Charlie's mouth was on Harry's cheeks, lightly licking away the mess. His arms encircled the boy's waist to support him, and then a jarring, destabilizing sensation tingled through Harry's legs. Charlie quickly noticed and pulled away.

Harry groaned at the loss of those beautiful lips and that tongue. However, Charlie wasn't done just yet. He led Harry to a wall, pressed the boy against it, and then crushed his lips against Harry's while pressing his body against the savior's.


One leg slipped between Harry's as Charlie nibbled on the boy's lower lip. Harry clenched the man's sleeve to steady himself, but then Charlie's hands grasped his and pinned them against the wall. Harry succumbed easily to his will.

Then, Charlie pushed him up the wall as his other leg maneuvered itself between Harry's legs, and the boy automatically wrapped his legs around Charlie's waist for support. The man pressed him against the wall harder with his body as his tongue ran over Harry's. The boy then slipped his hands away from Charlie's and moved them through his hair. In turn, the man cupped Harry's cheeks, holding him in place.

Charlie pulled away, breathing heavy. He looked at the boy in his arms and smiled. Harry's hair was disheveled, his face red, and his verdant eyes were glazed over with lust.

Charlie leaned in and purred against Harry's lips, "Do you want to continue, Harry?"

© 2008 Inyx Dawn