Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/875827.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Harry_Potter/Half-Blood_Prince
  Character:
      Harry_Potter
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-07-09 Words: 2139
****** His Now ******
by KateKintail
Summary
     Harry explores his copy of Advanced Potion-Making more closely, and
     more intimately
Notes
     Disclaimer: JKR’s characters and universe… and my pervy mind. This is
     only fanfic.
            Harry had the dormitory room all to himself. Ron was in the common
room studying with Hermione and Neville had gone down to the greenhouses to
help Professor Sprout with some repotting. Dean was off with— much to Harry’s
disappointment— Ginny, and Seamus… well, Harry wasn’t entirely sure where
Seamus was except for the fact that he wasn’t in the dormitory.
            Wanting and needing to be alone, Harry locked the door with a few
different spells, one of which would at least give him warning if anyone was
trying to get in. He had told his friends he wanted to study on his own for a
little while, and while he did have his potions text tucked under one arm, it
had been a bit of a fib. What he really wanted to do was to explore the book
that was his now more closely in private. He’d thought he’d seen… something
other than just corrections in the book. And while Harry didn’t read textbooks
in bed, this was hardly the standard textbook.
            As he walked from the door over to his bed, his school robes
suddenly felt heavy and his face felt flushed. Without really thinking anything
except that he was suddenly a little warm, he stripped off his robes and tossed
them on top of the trunk at the foot of his bed. He kicked off his shoes as
well, then climbed up onto the bed in his dressing shirt and shorts.
            Harry lay down and stretched out on his side. His left elbow rested
on his pillow and his arm bent back for him to rest his head against his hand.
His right hand set the book down in front of him on the bed and began flipping
randomly through the pages. The handwriting was just about everywhere. Writing
over ingredients and instructions and making notes in the margins as well.
            That tiny, cramped handwriting. Hermione had said it looked like a
girl’s, but Harry was sure she was wrong in that. It was bold in its strokes.
Definite and purposeful. Harry flipped to the very first page and stared at the
line of ownership once more:
              This book is the property of the Half-Blood Prince
Tentatively, Harry’s hand reached out and his fingertips brushed the words ever
so lightly, as though testing to see if the ink had dried. He traced the
letters, the curves, the connections. The words seemed to come alive to him,
dancing before him on the page in all their beauty. Surely Hermione was wrong
about this. Stranger things had happened than Hermione being wrong about
something, after all. Now more than ever, Harry was convinced the Prince was a
guy.
            He had to be. He couldn’t feel this way about him if he wasn’t.
Harry reached down and adjusted himself in his shorts unconsciously. Then he
began flipping through the pages of his Advanced Potion-Making textbook. As he
got through the first chapter, he realized there was definitely more to the
book than just a few corrections to potions.
            There was a spell called Muffliato which, to the best of Harry’s
imagination, must muffle words in some way. He studied it carefully, fully
intending to try it out later when he was in a big group of people, rather than
alone. There was a jinx to make someone’s wand hand shake. There was a charm
for momentary magnification. When Harry pulled out his wand and tried that one,
the part of the book he tried it on magnified so large that Harry was suddenly
face-to-face with the Prince’s bold lowercased ‘s’. He blinked at it, his eyes
following the curve and the way the bottom part didn’t quite connect with the
back part of it. But then everything went back to normal. Except for the fact
that Harry’s heart was now pounding. Trying out one of the Prince’s inventions
had been far more thrilling than even trying the variations of potion
instructions to success had been. Harry suddenly found he had been rubbing his
hand up and down the length of his wand.
            He was still warm, and he realized he was still wearing his dress
shirt, which was going to get wrinkled most likely if he continued to lie about
in bed. So Harry rolled over onto his back to undo the buttons with both hands.
As he strained his neck to lift his chin and look down at the buttons, he
looked beyond to see a bulge in his shorts and his cheeks flushed even though
he was alone. He narrowed his eyes at it and tried to think of something else.
But he couldn’t really get his mind off his curiosity about his textbook.
Finally, he sighed resignedly. “All right,” he whispered to his cock. “All
right, maybe I fancy the Half-Blood Prince just a little.” His cock twitched
happily to hear the admission, and it strained against the insides of his
shorts.
            Harry rolled his eyes. Well, if he was taking his shirt off, he
might as well go all the way. He pulled off his shirt, folded it neatly, then
tugged down his shorts by the waistband. He sat up, pulling them off completely
along with his socks and Merlinbut he was hard. Harry gulped. “Maybe I fancy
the Prince a lot.” His cock twitched again and longed for some contact. And
since the Prince wasn’t here, Harry took it in hand to pacify it.
            His fingers wrapped around the shaft and he sighed at the
loveliness of that touch. It was almost impossible to get the room to himself,
what with so many roommates, so usually the showers served as his usual
location for this. But without the shower spray raining upon him, the touch was
much softer, smoother, and far more sensual. He slid his hand up and down very
slowly, not really intending to go much further. He wanted to read, after all.
            He raised his head a little and turned the pages with his left
hand. There was a spell called Floradona above which the Prince had written
(for gardens). He couldn’t imagine what that must do, but even as he read it,
he was sure the Prince was not only a bloke, but quite skilled in a variety of
magical subjects. He’d taken quite a lot of Herbology and had never thought of
creating spells to aid plants. Impressed, he continued on, reading every little
comment and every little note of the Prince’s he could find.
            The Prince’s handwriting was becoming easier to interpret. It was
still scrunched into tiny spaces and not at all neat, but it was starting to
look familiar now. The gentle slant. The way certain letters were formed. The
messiness indicating the speed at which the words were written. In his
browsing, Harry stumbled upon a spell that was clearly written hurriedly. It
was entitled:
                             For When You’re Alone
Harry cocked his head at the title, smiling. Well, he was definitely alone now.
Could the Prince mean what Harry thought this meant?
            With one hand still gliding up and down his cock, paying it just
enough attention to keep his urges in check, he picked up his wand in his other
and read the spell:
                            Hold wand in left hand
Harry smiled. He had already done that much already.
                   Circle tip of wand in clockwise direction
                      Whisper the words: Avin Evin Envele
Harry took a deep breath, then followed the other instructions. “Avin Evin
Envele,” He whispered somewhat unsteadily. He felt a bit nervous, but somewhat
thrilled by the prospect of not knowing what precisely would happen.
            The moment he said the words, he felt his cock throb suddenly, and
he pulled his hand back in surprise. However, it still felt like his hand was
there. Something seemed to slide over his cock from the tip downward. Something
warm, something that squeezed. It was almost like the sensation of thrusting
his cock through his fist, only much tighter and warmer. Harry gasped as he
remained still but the sensation changed. Whatever it was was moving up and
down the length of his cock.
            He clapped his now free hand to his chest, feeling his heart race
wildly with excitement. This felt just wonderful. Incredibly good. Irresistibly
good. His hand slid down and went to touch his cock out of curiosity, but hit
hand couldn’t get close enough. It was as though the spell had set up a barrier
around his cock that his hand could not penetrate. Try as he might, he could
not make contact with it. This left both his hands free to touch other things,
Harry realized, while the spell took good care of his cock.
            So dropped his wand and rolled over onto his back. One hand slid
over his chest, fingering his naval, pinching his nipples, running over his
whole chest to claim it and know it. His other brushed against his balls,
squeezing gently. Harry groaned with pleasure. This was unreal. And completely
wonderful. His hips began to buck as he thrust forward into the invisible
something that had enveloped his cock. Almost impossibly, the sensations there
intensified to match, seeming to slide more quickly up and down his cock.
            Harry’s head lolled to the side. He was getting ready to burry his
face into the pillow to muffle a cry. But he caught sight of Advanced Potion-
Making again and a smile appeared on his face. “For when you’re alone indeed,”
Harry chuckled, albeit a bit breathlessly. It was the book that was making this
happen. Or, more accurately, the Prince. The Prince and his wonderfully clever
mind. It was like the Prince was touching him right now, through the words of
the spell. It was the Prince he was thrusting into. It was the Prince who was
making him feel so damn good.
            So damn good. Better than Harry could ever remember feeling before.
He kept his eyes trained on the book, and on this spell crammed on the open
page’s margin. Every time he thought about the Prince, a rush ran through his
body from head to toe and his cock leaked with desire. The handwriting there
was sloppy and rushed, even for the Prince, and Harry now understood why.
             He could imagine the Prince lying in a Hogwarts dormitory bed,
just as Harry was doing now, experimenting with words and flicks of his wand.
The Prince was not only talented and clever, but also very handsome. Though
Harry couldn’t imagine his face, he saw the body very clearly in his mind’s
eye. Muscular but sleek. Young, like him, but large. Large where it mattered.
He could see the man’s body swaying slightly with urges, urges like Harry had
felt just moments ago. He could sense the desperation and frustration. And he
could see the body tense up with pleasure when the Prince stumbled upon the
correct working of the spell. The way the Prince’s body moved in reaction to it
was just as Harry’s had done. And then Harry could imagine the Prince
immediately picking up a quill and copying down the actions so he would never,
ever forget them, just before giving himself over to the complete pleasures of
the spell.
            And those words he’d written, while caught in passion, were the
very ones Harry stared at now. Gasping, thrusting, softly moaning, Harry’s hand
left his chest and his fingers touched the words. And that was all it took. The
feelings within him intensified and he cried out, spilling his seed onto
himself.
            It was the most pure, most intense orgasm Harry had known, and when
it finally died away, Harry froze with reverence. His hands were clean, as he
finally reached for his wand and used another spell to clear his mess away.
Then he lay on his back, happily spent.
            There was a knock on the door not long after. “Harry?” It was
Neville. “Can I come in for a minute? I forgot my Defense Against the Dark Arts
book inside!” 
            Harry winced slightly. A reference to Snape was definitely the
quickest way to kill his blissful euphoria. He cleared his throat and called
out. “Right, Neville. One second and I’ll get the door!” Harry took a deep
breath, collected himself, then pulled his robes on over his naked body. The
fabric felt strange against his warm, bare skin.
            As he climbed off his bed, he glanced back at the book, still lying
open to the marvelous spell. Harry smiled broadly. Hermione was definitely
wrong. The Prince had most definitely been a guy. He wouldn’t be able to
explain to her why he now knew that for certain, and he’d have to be careful
not to let anyone else see the spell. The book… the spell… the Prince… they
were his now.
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