A/N: Celebrating ten long years since Shiny and Blue was published. Feeling sentimental, and I thought I'd make good on my decade old promise of a one-shot or two. Curious to see who's still checking their old Yahoo accounts for subscription notifications.

Anyway, please enjoy this window into Harry and Albus's relationship as they explore the finer points of wizard intimacy.

Please note- any stories from here on out mark a tonal shift away from contiguous story, and are much more focused on "the finer points of wizard intimacy." If previous parts of this story were closer to a "T" content rating, this and any future stories will be solid "M."

Content includes: sex, D/s, consensual non-consent, fluids, mind control, bondage.

One Shot 1: Thank You Very Much
September, 1958

Albus Percival Wolfric Brian Dumbledore was satisfied to say that he was perfectly normal, thank you very much. He was the very last person you'd expect to be involved with anything strange or mysterious, because he was just too busy for that sort of nonsense.

Albus Dumbledore was the director of a firm called Hogwatts, which made lightbulbs. He was a tall, slender man, with long auburn hair, half moon glasses, and though strangers would say he was probably 35 years old, he was, in fact, much, much older. Albus wore a pinstripe suit to work, and sat in his office with his long legs crossed in a sort of tentatively satisfied way under his deep desk.

Albus Dumbledore had everything he wanted, but he also had a new little secret, and his greatest fear was that someone would discover it. He didn't think he could bear it if anyone found out about Potter.

Mr. Potter was one of Albus's newest employees at the Hogwatts factory. In fact, as a top engineer, Potter was one of the people who reported directly to Albus. Potter was a slight, dark haired man in his late thirties with cokebottle glasses and an old scar on his forehead, as so many factory workers did. He cheerfully finished his work in record time, and the largest complaint Albus could make about Potter was that he'd often caught the other workers at the factory trying to chat him up instead of doing their work.

But Albus's greatest fear had nothing to do with the way Potter charmed the mechanics and lineworkers alike. It was not the eerie speed at which he finished his work, nor the way his smile never failed to fluster Albus into cleaning his glasses.

No, it was just a feeling Albus got when he was around Potter. A feeling that had Albus searching for reasons to postpone Potter's thirty-day-checkin performance review again. A feeling that Potter knew something that Albus did not, and this was something Albus was not used to at all.

But there was nothing to be done about the performance review. The meeting had been postponed twice already, and now the "Thirty-Day-Review" was a "Forty-Six-Day-Review," and that sort of nonsense just wouldn't stand with the board of directors. New employees needed to be calibrated.

He sighed and looked away from the rain-streaked window. He wrote a note in his calendar for the afternoon with tall, slanted, loopy handwriting and turned his attention back to the meeting underway in front of him.

"Though we were hoping to order all of our safety goggles with Malcolm & Sons, we may just have to go back to ordering abroad, at those prices," said Phil from Accounting. Phil was a tiny middle-aged accountant-type in a tiny three-piece suit.

Mini from HR shot Phil an accusing look over her glasses. The last time they'd ordered from Phil's supplier abroad, the goggles had been of poor quality, and Mini had had to spend weeks researching better suppliers and filing paperwork to keep the workers feeling safe and happy.

Fortunately, she had more business sense than the rest of Albus's executive staff combined, and stayed silent in the face of this negotiation.

"I have a proposal for you, Mr. Malcolm," said Albus calmly over steepled hands. Phil and Mini looked around at Albus, who'd been quiet for quite a while, and had discussed no such proposal with the two of them. Mr. Malcolm leaned in.

"I think we could be persuaded to transfer our business to you and double our order, and we may find ourselves needing some hard-hats as well, if you find yourself willing to undercut your competitor's price by ten percent. We will, of course, pay in advance," he finished, pulling out some papers from a drawer and knocking them lightly on the desk to align them into a stack.

The room went quiet for a moment. Malcolm ran a nervous, stubby, ringed hand through his thinning, damp hair. Albus could see Phil's mind working to calculate how much that would cost them, and knew that Phil would find the sums satisfactory. He could see Mini already trying to hide a smile, yet she gritted her teeth and interrupted, her tone convincingly dumbfounded.

"Sir. Double? I must protest. Our office has no way of knowing that these glasses will be any more safe than the last ones we ordered, and with this size order we'll be stuck with this batch's quality, whatever that may be," she threw Malcolm a scornful look, "for three years! As I said before, we should start with half our previous order, not double."

This was, of course, a fabrication. Mini had conducted extensive research on the quality of Malcolm & Son's merchandise, and found it far superior to all other competitors. That, and Hogwatt's workers had doubled and they needed double the glasses.

"Madam!" Malcolm interrupted, scandalized. "Malcolm & Sons has been providing quality safety gear for over a hundred years. Our customer service is impeccable, and we boast a no-failure guarantee. Anyone wishing to purchase our products should be proud of the protection they're providing their employees. You will see!"

"Well, I wouldn't make this decision," she said, her tone bitter.

"And fortunately, Ms. McDonald, you don't have to," said Albus. "I have given my final offer."

"And I have accepted!" said Malcolm, with a triumphant look at Mini.

"Very well," said Albus. He slid the papers across the desk.

"This is how a deal is made, Ms. McDonald," said Malcolm. "Don't be upset, dear. Some people just don't have the intuition."

Albus smiled ruefully. "Ah, Mr. Malcolm, Ms. McDonald is quite a gifted business woman. In fact, I may find myself needing to move her out of HR and into sales."

Malcolm was absorbed in his reading and signing and did not quite hear Albus. "Quite right, quite right," he said as he signed away a third of his inventory for a little over half of his normal price.

He finished signing, and he and Albus shook hands. "Would you care for another lemon drop on your way out, Mr. Malcolm?"

He offered Malcolm a tin of lemon drops. They were specially made for Hogwatts and were shaped like tiny yellow light bulbs. Albus always offered them out in meetings. Good corporate culture.

"Ah! Yes," Malcolm chuckled. "Delightful, delightful."

"Poppy will see you out. Enjoy the weather," said Albus, as thunder clapped overhead.

"Quite right, quite right," he said, retreating and exiting the office.

"Thank you for your help," said Albus, looking to Phil and then Mini after the door snapped shut.

Mini's face split into a grin. "Nice one, Gaffer," she said. She took a lemon drop.

Phil turned and shook hands with them both and excitedly squeaked something about needing to update the books and followed Malcolm out.

"I was quite serious about your position, Mini," Albus said once Phil had left. "Your talents would be put to good use in sales."

"Thank you, Director, but I would prefer to stay where I am."

Albus smiled ruefully again. "Very well, very well. And now you must excuse me," a pit dropped into his stomach. "I must prepare for my next."

Mini tipped an imaginary hat and swept out of the room.

Albus looked out the window at the dark clouds and rain. His feelings of satisfaction over the deal and pride in his employees faded as he looked down at his notes for the next meeting. Potter's review. He'd written "top work," "good initiative," and "teamwork" in his loopy writing, but had not written anything about the way every interaction with Potter seemed to result in Albus's heart-rate skyrocketing and his own productivity dropping like the Nautilus.

He dawdled for a moment longer underlining the heading of the notes, and finally made his way to his office door.

He leaned out and called softly to his secretary in his deep voice.

"Is my three-o-clock here yet, Poppy?"

Poppy's chair swiveled around, and Albus suppressed a start.

"She went to the loo, but I'm here and ready," said Potter from her chair. "Sir," he amended with half a smile. He was lounging comfortably there as if he'd been there a while. One black, steel-toe boot rested on the opposite knee of his grey overalls, and his permanently smudged hands folded in his lap.

Albus took a breath before speaking.

"Of course. Won't you please come in?" he asked, relieved to hear the normal tone of authoritative politeness in his voice.

He turned back to his desk, and must have repeated "Of course, won't you please come in?" to himself in his head six times, checking that it had been normal speech. He combed his fingers self-consciously through his long hair.

For it was moments as simple as these that had Albus disconcerted in Potter's presence. He could never quite put a finger on it outside of their meetings, but Albus was just...he just said...he couldn't quite...He just never quite managed to conduct himself as he normally preferred to when around Harry Potter.

It had only been, what, last week when Potter had been testing a lathe after repairing it when Albus noticed that Potter's boot lace was untied. As it was against regulation— not to mention deadly— for any tie, belt, cord, or lace to dangle off anyone's person anywhere in the factory, Albus got Potter's attention over the screams of machinery, and pointed out the lace.

Potter thanked him, his voice drowned out by machinery, and their eyes met for ten full seconds, Potter's glinting with extra light. Quite suddenly, Albus found himself on his knees making his neatest bow at Potter's feet. He stood, mouthed "anything," to Potter and swept back to his office on the second floor above the factory, his heart beating loudly enough to hear over the machinery below.

And the week before that, Potter had darted into his office between two of Albus's meetings to deliver a request for a new coolant hose on a mill. Albus followed him down to the factory floor to check the old one.

"See, if it would just hold itself like this...just like this," said Potter holding it up, "it would be fine, but the rubber's worn off here, see, and the coolant never hits the metal. This just won't do. I need it in place to finish this part. But just like this...thank you very much." He adjusted the tube and held it out to show Albus.

"Just like this...," said Albus placing his hand right by Potter's, holding in place to understand. "Anything," he said to Potter, taking the tube.

"Just like that," said Potter. Potter began milling out a part while Albus held the coolant hose in place. Albus watched the spinning tool, feeling warm and safe and occupied, finding himself completely transfixed by the soft whir of the machine and the beautiful way that tiny coils of metal were pushed off the part.

By the time he found his way back to his office, he'd missed two entire meetings.

Thunder clapped overhead, and a lightbulb or two on the ceiling faded out and back in. Albus's eyes snapped across the room as his favorite decoration, an old three-color stoplight, flicked off momentarily and back on: green, as usual.

Albus refocused.

This meeting would be different. He'd make sure it went smoothly.

Potter sat in the seat across Albus's deep, wide desk, and crossed his boot back onto his knee again.

"Would you like a lemon drop, Mr. Potter?" Albus asked.

Potter smiled. "Yes, thank you very much." His smile widened and his eyes flashed. "Sir."

Everything was going well so far. Lemon drops, just like any other meeting.

Albus picked one out of the tin, stood, leaned far across the deep desk, and put it into Potter's open mouth. Potter closed his mouth around Albus's fingers. Their eyes met as Albus slid his fingers slowly out of Potter's mouth. "Of course, anything," Albus said.

Albus sat back down, completely stunned at what had just happened.

A few moments passed in silence. Potter sucked his lemon drop, and Albus silently gulped, feeling his entire face flush, and feeling the coolness on his fingers as they dried.

After a few more long moments, Potter spoke up.

"How am I doing, Gaffer?" he asked with a winning smile. "Thank you very much for the review."

Albus cleared his throat again. "Oh, anything. Excellent, excellent." He said.

It was after the first "excellent" that he felt it. A lovely warm sensation starting in his stomach and spreading from there. On the second "excellent," it doubled.

Albus ignored the sensation and continued. "You've been finishing your work in record time—" he cut off as a wave of pleasure passed over his body. "And, er, I appreciate your work ethic."

He shut his eyes for a moment and opened them to find Potter patiently waiting for him to continue. He internally shook himself.

"Have you ever heard the history of our great company, Mr. Potter?" asked Albus.

"No," said Potter. "Sir."

"Ah," said Albus, confidently seizing the opportunity to let himself speak on auto-pilot for a few minutes to figure out what was going on with this meeting. He'd mastered meeting stall techniques, and he'd told this story so many times that he could tell it and think at the same time. He launched into the story about Sal and Rick, the best friend founders of Hogwatts who turned bitter enemies over disagreements between AC and DC.

To his immense relief, as soon as he started into the story, his body relaxed and the warm tension in his midriff began to fade. So what was going on? As he described how Rick the founder had spread rumors that Sal had added a secret opium den to the basement, Albus decided that if he was worried about saying and doing things without meaning to, perhaps he should stick to speaking from his notes and refrain from moving through the meeting conversationally. Maybe he should simply ask Potter questions and write down the answers. Yes, that would work quite nicely for a start.

He wrapped up his tale "—and productivity has only increased since the addition of our new automated glass blowing machines, and, of course, workers like you!"

And there it was again, that curious, infectiously pleasant sensation. Warmth and tension seeped through his stomach and lower making his breath come short and his clothes feel tight.

"You most certainly make this cuh—company run better," Albus said, and his eyes fluttered as warmth swept over him, making him sure he was a little red. "It's wonderful having you here," he said before could stop himself, his pleasure seeking subconscious making the connection an instant before he did. He was rewarded for his words with a gush that almost made him groan aloud.

He took a few breaths and continued, casting around for something improvement-oriented to say about Potter's performance, maybe about the way his uniform fit his legs so tightly or the way Albus wanted to reach across the desk to clean the smudge of grease under Potter's ear with his thumb before—

"So how is it, exactly," Albus urgently asked the first acceptable question that popped into his mind, "that you are such an incredible worker?"

Though this latest compliment added to his arousal, relief flooded through him in equal measure as he managed to give Potter the floor. He stood halfway up to reach the pitcher of water on his desk, his pants shifted against his crotch and he realized quite suddenly that he wasn't quite relieved enough. He sat back down quickly.

"Magic," said Potter.

"Excuse me?" said Albus.

"Magic," said Potter. "It's how I do my job."

Albus smiled placidly and nodded for Mr. Potter to go on.

"You see," said Potter, adopting the same practiced tone Albus himself used when explaining how lightbulbs worked to the children of his friends, "I'm a wizard and have magical abilities that I can use to speed up my work, or, in cases where I can't, I use magic to persuade my coworkers to do the work for me." He smiled.

Albus laughed indulgently. Done with his joke, Potter could now modestly answer the question and they would move on. Albus had notes, you see.

"I tend to use compulsion spells on the lineworkers and mechanics, and then I use memory modification charms to make sure they don't report anything— not that it would matter if they did. Mostly I find that a little gratitude goes a long way, wouldn't you say? Some people just don't say thank you very much."

Albus remained silent, listening carefully now. If it wasn't a joke, was Potter mad? Was he—

"But that's not really what this meeting's about," said Potter. "Is there anything I can do better?" he asked.

"Anything…?" said Albus blankly.

Albus found himself rising to his feet, which came as a surprise after his firm decision to stay behind the desk.

"Well, Mr. Potter, I think you're doing quite well. Any amount that you're helping and mentoring your coworkers is good news to me," he heard himself say. The alarm and confusion he'd felt a moment ago hearing foreign words like "compulsions" and "memory modification" was mounting higher and higher, but his mouth was doing something completely different, as were his hands.

He walked around from behind his desk, behind Potter, and placed his hands on Potter's shoulders. The touch that started out as what Albus hoped would be an employee-like clap on the back quickly turned into a sensual caress— the type of shoulder massage usually designed by the giver to elicit moans of sexual pleasure to be disguised by the receiver as sighs of pain relief.

Potter let his legs uncross and sprawl wide, and he settled further back into his chair.

Albus lost himself for a moment, genuinely distracted from his mounting alarm by the firm shoulders underneath the overalls and tee shirt. Potter's hair gave off an intoxicating combination of simple soap and singed metal. Albus came back to his senses quite suddenly as his hands, seeking uninterrupted access to Potter's shoulders, unclipped the suspenders to Potter's overalls. Potter sighed as Albus's hands redoubled their efforts.

The same improvisation skills, self control, and rapid thinking that helped Albus climb to the top of the corporate ladder was now screaming one conclusion: this was not normal. It wasn't drugs, it wasn't a joke, and Albus wasn't in control. A lesser man may have fooled around longer in denial, but Albus had all the information he needed and it was as simple as that.

Finally, Albus mustered independent speech. "It appears, Mr. Potter," he said with unwavering politeness, "that as unlikely as it seems, there are more forces at work here than I can see. While I'm not one to suggest abjuring responsibility for one's own wandering hands, I'm finding myself hoping that you'll oblige me with an explanation."

"Are you enjoying yourself?" asked Potter.

"Yes," said Albus immediately and without thought. He nearly bit his tongue. Potter exhaled a laugh.

Albus took a breath. "What is it that you're trying to achieve?" Albus continued, as polite as can be.

Potter turned in his seat to look around at Albus. He seemed to think for a moment.

"I'm going to fuck you," he said.

He turned back around and Albus put his hands back on Potter's shoulders. Lightning flashed outside, and each drop that clung to the window was illuminated momentarily like pearls. Albus shut his eyes for a moment. The bar-like grid of the rectangular factory window frames seared themselves inescapably onto the backs of his eyes.

"I'd like to know your preference about something first," said Potter. He let his head loll to the side as Albus continued to work on his neck. Albus's heart began pounding in his chest. "I'm going to make your hands and body and voice seduce me. But you get to choose whether you'll think it's your idea, or you can keep your mind as it is. Which one would you prefer?"

"Oh, I don't think you intend for me to choose," said Albus quickly, now threading his fingers into Potter's hair to rub the base of his scalp.

"No?" asked Potter, genuinely surprised. Albus felt Potter's ears flex under his fingers in a smile that he clearly didn't want Albus to see.

"Alas, no. Not that it's much of a choice, but you've made your, shall we say, style very clear thus far. As much as you like control and dominance, you like the illusion of my enjoyment, I think. Something in you likes to think I'm getting something out of this too, so I suppose my mind will be at your mercy, as it has been from the start."

"What makes you say that?"

The answer, of course, was that whatever Potter was doing to Albus's mind was causing feelings strong enough to make him forget his fear for minutes at a time. He thought back to little fantasies he'd had over the last month, each one feeling as valid in the face of his current peril as they had while he was daydreaming on the banister over the work yard. He now even caught himself wondering what the harm would be in telling Harry this, but that was the line.

"Okay," said Potter knowingly. "Are you ready to start?"

Albus picked his next words carefully, consciously. "Please, I want to suck your cock."

Albus pursed his lips. Those were not the words he'd selected at all.

Potter actually laughed aloud this time and turned around.

"Then as of now, you'll magically enjoy yourself and believe everything you're doing is your own idea." Harry snapped his fingers.

Albus felt a wave of relief pass over his body, realizing that he could remove his hands from Potter's back and retreat behind his desk if he so desired. Eyeing the fallen overall straps, Albus noticed something he hadn't in his panic- a line of deep scarring across the back of Harry's neck. His eyes went wide, totally distracted.

"How did this happen?" he asked quietly, touching the scar in spite of himself.

"An accident," said Harry.

"Where did it happen?"

"It-" Harry looked sheepish. "Don't worry about it."

"Regardless of the factory that injured you, you'll be more safe here," said Albus. The scar was far too old to have happened at Hogwatts.

Harry was silent.

"Did you tell the union?"

No answer.

"Is that why you left?" If there was a factory nearby with unsafe working environments, Albus could help by hiring the other workers away in the Hogwatts expansion. "Are there others?"

Harry misunderstood the question, and instead pulled down the neck of his tee shirt to show a dark, oval scar over his heart.

"How did you get that?"

"Burn," said Harry.

"What else," asked Albus. He got a pad of paper and took a note.

There was a knock on the door.

"Enter," said Albus. Mini walked in.

"Ms. McDonald," said Albus, "perfect. I'd like you to begin an investigation of nearby factories' working conditions."

Mini moved closer into the room, looking from Albus down to Harry's unsnapped overalls. She frowned.

Harry smirked. "By all means, Ms. McDonald. Have a seat. Join us. Happy to have you."

The green light on the stoplight in the corner flicked off, and the yellow light hummed on. Only Harry noticed. He sighed, stood up, clapped his hands, and rubbed them together. Mini seemed to wake up from a daze.

"I didn't realize you were doing a review," she said. She glanced sideways at Harry. "Again. I'll come back later and make sure nobody else disturbs you." She hurried out, and the metal blind slats on the door zooped shut when the door slammed.

The light turned green again.

"You have my gratitude," said Albus.

"For what?" asked Harry.

"For keeping my staff out of this," said Albus. "Please don't hurt them."

"I'm not going to hurt anybody."

"What about me?" Albus looked deep into Harry's green eyes. Something in Harry seemed to break.

"I'm not going to hurt you," said Harry. "I'm not going to make you do anything. You can go."

"I'm sorry?"

"Or, here, I'll leave." Harry turned to go.

"Thank you," muttered Albus down at his hands.

"Excuse me?" asked Harry. He was by the door.

Albus looked up. "Thank you." His breath caught in his throat.

Harry blinked at him. Albus crossed the room and put his hand on the doorknob to open it for Harry, just to make sure he was really...really leaving. They stood close enough to exchange breath.

"I said...thank you very much."

Harry looked down at the door knob, unturned, and up at Albus. "Anything," Harry said.

Fantasies from the past month flicked through Albus's mind. Harry bending him over his desk, Harry kissing him in the infinitely slow utility elevator, Albus washing soot and oil off Harry's skin in the detox showers. He had wanted this all along. The smell of Harry was too intoxicating there by the door. Fueled by pure hormones, fantasy turned to reality as he helplessly leaned forward and kissed Harry. He felt Harry's lips twitch into a smug smile.

And then it all came crashing back-his own words echoing in his head, "I suppose my mind will be at your mercy, as it has been from the start."

But it was too late. He wanted Harry, and his body was ahead of his mind. Humiliation, shame, and fear coursed through Albus' body, but Harry's lips were warm and nonthreatening, and he wanted more.

To gain some semblance of the upper hand, he steered Harry by the hair and throat back into the room until the two of them crashed into the desk.

Albus began pulling at Harry's tee shirt. "Can't you magic this off?"

"I believe I said your hands, body, and voice would seduce me. I think magic would be cheating."

Albus's eyes flashed. He grabbed a letter opener from the desk and brought it up to the neck of Harry's tee. Before Harry knew it, his shirt was in pieces on the floor.

Albus began sucking on Harry's perfect neck. He briefly wondered for a moment when he'd started thinking of any part of Harry as "perfect."

"Did you mean for me to remember everything?" asked Albus.

"What makes you think you remember everything?" replied Harry.

"I remember you giving me that choice- this scenario doesn't seem to be one of the options. You're forcing me to enjoy everything, but I still know you're making me enjoy it."

"What would you like?" asked Harry, beaming.

"Fuck, I'd like you to touch me," said Albus.

As if Harry'd been waiting for him to ask, he immediately sprang into action removing Albus's clothes, one by one, with little bursts of magic. Albus was equal parts stunned and turned on.

"What else can you do?" he whispered in Harry's ear as Harry went after Albus's now-exposed neck.

"What did you have in mind?" Harry muttered.

"Lock the door?" Albus reached down and touched Harry's cock though overalls.

The door locked with a click.

"I don't have any lubricants," said Albus.

Harry pulled away to smirk at Albus with that same damn smirk.

"I am a machinist, after all. Where do you want it?"

"You know where," said Albus.

"I'm beginning to notice that you like power too much to be any good at fighting evil, Albus. Not even a little struggle? You're not even-"

Harry's words cut off as Albus grabbed him more firmly through his overalls.

"I know when I've done my best. Now I'd like you to make good on your threat," said Albus. He pulled down Harry's overalls and boxers and then pushed Harry back onto the desk. Harry sat, his legs tangled in overalls stuck on his boots. Albus knelt down and took Harry into his mouth.

"While you're down there," said Harry. Harry threaded his hands into Albus's hair and used some gentle pressure to adjust Albus's speed and depth. "I thought I'd let you know that you'll have a second choice. You can either remember everything, or forget when we're done." Albus started to come up to say something, and Harry pushed him back down around his cock.

"You can think about it for a few minutes down there. Would you rather remember how you got harder every time my cock hit the back of your throat? Remember asking me to lube up your ass? Or do you want to live without wondering if this will happen again. Doesn't that make you wonder how many times I've already fucked you without you remembering?"

Albus's world had narrowed down to just Harry's cock and Harry's words- his choice. Harry got impossibly harder, and then pulled Albus off to avoid cumming.

"Which one will you choose?"

"I'd say that depends on how talented you are," gasped Albus. Albus stood and kissed Harry. "The lubricant?"

"Needy...I can't wait to hear what you choose," Harry said. He vanished his overalls and stood. Harry spun Albus around and bent him over the desk.

Albus felt his ass go slick. The sensation was so erotic that he almost came right there on the desk with no stimulation but the lube in his ass, and the wood against his cock. One of Harry's hands was in his hair, and the other was running up and down his ass cheek. They stayed like that for a minute until Albus couldn't handle it anymore. Albus reached around to find Harry's cock, but couldn't quite reach.

"Everything okay?" Harry asked, sweetly.

Albus gave up reaching and exhaled into the desk.

Harry squeezed Albus's ass, and Albus squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself not to grind into the desk in anticipation. It wouldn't be as good as Harry.

Harry leaned into Albus, nestling his heavy cock between Albus's ass cheeks. He pulled Albus by the hair into a standing position and bit lightly on the place where Albus's shoulder and neck met.

"We have done this before," said Albus suddenly.

He reached back again and successfully grabbed Harry's cock and slowly guided it into his own ass. Pleasure mingling with pain, and not the other way around, confirmed Albus's suspicions. He was not the virgin he thought he was.

If they'd done this before, either Harry hadn't given him a choice the first time, or he'd chosen to forget. What should he-

Harry pushed further in and Albus completely lost his train of thought.

"So, what'll it be, Albus? Do you want to walk around this place knowing exactly what I did to you?" Harry leaned down close to Albus's ear. His whole chest pressed down on Albus's back as he ground into Albus's ass from behind. "Your body remembers...You'll be wrapped around my finger whether you remember why or not."

Albus tried to think through the haze of pleasure. His first instinct was that he wanted more, not to forget. He couldn't stop himself from rocking back into Harry's hips in time with each thrust. He couldn't believe the sounds coming out of his own mouth.

But what if Harry's enchantment (when had he started calling him Harry?) ended and Albus felt disgusted and violated and he had to live with the memory, had to work in the same factory as Harry, even as his body betrayed him? He'd have to wait in fear for their next encounter...wait for the next time Harry gave him the choice so that he could forget again. This must have been what had already happened. He must have worked out that there was no escape and that it was better to live with a little crush than live with the memory of being enchanted and seduced by one of his coworkers. Albus imagined himself so agitated and distracted that he might even go to Harry and beg to be fucked so that he could forget.

That thought brought him right back into his body with an intense stiffening of his cock against the desk, nearly causing him to cum then and there. The only thing that stopped him was Harry's voice and some magic in his ear.

"Ah, ah. Not yet. You haven't made your choice yet."

Albus yelled in frustration as his orgasm drained away and was replaced with ravenous need.

"I'll sweeten the deal," said Harry, slowing down his thrusting a little. "If you remember, we can fuck any time you want. If you forget, you'll just go back to craving my body without knowing why."

Albus imagined fucking Harry in the freight elevator, fucking him after hours on a shut-down lathe, getting fucked like this outside in an alleyway, too eager to wait until they got home to worry about passers by. Any time he wanted.

He shook himself. He was enchanted! He wouldn't want it! He must have already made this choice.

"And this time...I'll make sure you remember everything. All the times." Albus felt Harry's lips smile against his back. "Last time your choice was to cum or remember. Three guesses what you chose," said Harry.

All of Albus's logic fell apart as an image swam before his eyes of himself with his cock deep down Harry's throat, begging Harry to trade his memory for the chance to cum. And with that, Albus was lost at the edge again. Harry slowed down his thrusts even more and Albus felt his orgasm magically drain away a second time.

"Yes, fine," mumbled Albus.

"Sorry?"

"Yes, fine," said Albus.

"Yes fine what, Albus?"

"I'll remember, thank you very much."

And with that, Harry's magic released and Albus's whole chest got hot and his vision went white. He clenched down hard on Harry's cock and ground himself into the desk, now slick with fluids. He had a fleeting thought that he wasn't sure how he'd coherently remember anything after feeling this way. Harry kept fucking Albus, even as Albus's body relaxed. It was just as Albus was coming down from his orgasm, just as a few teeny feelings of anticipation and anxiety started mingling in with his contentment that it happened.

Hogwarts.

Harry.

Castle.

Magic.

Harry was beginning to pant with exertion, and Albus found himself breathless as he processed the memories flooding back. The most vivid was an image of Harry's face over a beaker of steaming potion. "Totally helpless for me…" Harry'd said. Albus drank the potion.

Before Albus knew it, he was hard again. He pushed Harry off and turned over, straightening himself off of the desk. He put his hand in Harry's hair. "I love you," he said.

"I'm not finished" said Harry.

Albus smiled and started going down to his knees to finish Harry off, but Harry grabbed his wrist. Albus was taller and had more leverage and moved free of Harry's grasp, but Harry smirked.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Albus's arms snapped to his sides and his legs snapped together. His cock was still standing straight off his body.

Albus gave Harry a look and wordlessly performed the counter curse.

Nothing happened.

"I said, I'm not finished," said Harry.

Harry twiddled his fingers and Albus, still totally flat and stiff, rose off the ground and floated gently down onto the desk face and cock up.

Harry climbed up on top of the desk and straddled Albus.

"My favorite part of this," said Harry, carefully guiding himself down onto Albus, "is that I didn't have to make you enjoy that at all." He settled down. Albus, unable to moan or speak let out a pant of breath through his nose.

"I was never going to make you fuck me. Muggle Al really would have seduced me in his office," panted Harry. He wrapped his hand around his own cock as he fucked himself up and down on Albus's. "All I had to do to you was make you a little turned on when you said nice things to me- a spell I might leave on, by the way." He sped up his hand a little. "And I suppose I started you off a little with that massage," Harry continued. Albus's eyes were rolling back into his head, and he still couldn't move. Harry sped up. "But…" he breathed, "the rest...mmm, was you. Any dark wizard could come in here and seduce you, Al." Albus, still immobile, blushed from stomach to nose. Feeling Albus start to cum again inside him, Harry let himself cum all over Albus's chest and neck.

Harry fucked away the last of their orgasms as items in the room began to fade and disappear until only the desk and stop light remained. Stone walls replaced the factory windows and blinded doors. They were in the Room of Requirement.

Harry released the full body bind on Albus, and Albus immediately pulled Harry into a kiss.

They broke apart and all Albus could do was grin.

"Was that what you had in mind?" asked Harry.

Albus's eyes twinkled and he nodded. "That was about it," he smiled.

Harry waved his hand and the two of them were cleaned up. A blanked appeared, and suddenly the desk they were on became a lot larger and softer.

"What do you need from me," asked Albus.

"Just this," smiled Harry. He pulled Albus close. "You?"

"I'm content," said Albus. "Only...could you tell me how you came up with...Hogwatts?"

Harry chuckled, and they snuggled closer together.

After each of them had fallen asleep at least once, Harry roused himself and looked around for a clock.

Albus combed a hand through Harry's hair.

"We really need to improve the security of this castle," said Harry.

Albus smiled.

"I think you're a risk," said Harry. "Handsome dark wizard offers to take over your mind and body for a little while- I think you'd be on your knees in an instant."

"Alright, Harry, that's enough. It's time to-"

Albus cut off as he felt ropes starting to snake up his legs under the blankets.

"Harry…"

"I'm just checking to see if your magic works yet," said Harry lightly. The ropes tugged snugger and twisted higher up to Albus's torso. One thin rope snaked firmly around Albus's cock and balls.

"Because if you still don't have your magic yet...and you were willing to go back out there. Tut, tut, Albus. That's a security liability."

"Come, now, Harry. Diffindo!"

The spell did nothing, and Harry's breath caught in excitement.

The ropes yanked, and all of a sudden Albus was upside down in the air, ropes still coiling down, down towards his chest and neck.

"Harry, what time is it?"

Harry glanced over at the bright green stoplight and looked back at the dangling Albus. "Looks like we've got all the time in the world. Now repeat after me...Security."

"S...security," gasped Albus.

"Thank you very much."