|Plans Unfolding, or, How Harry Got Fed Up With Destiny
October 14, 2004
It's the summer after his fifth year and Harry decides to live like he thinks Sirius would have wanted him to.
Warning: Harry is 16, Bill between 25 and 31, depending on if you believe JKR or your math skills
Thank you to my beta reader jade_eyes88! Hope it is what you had in mind, Liquorice!
"C'mon, Harry. You don't really want that last sausage, do you?"
"No, it's mine." Harry grinned at Ron and shielded his plate with his hand.
"But... but I'm a growing boy! I need my food."
"And what am I?"
"A little midget?" Harry threw a piece of toast at Ron. "Hey! No need to get violent."
Molly smiled indulgently at them. "Boys, don't argue. There'€™s enough for everybody." She tried to look stern, but inwardly she was pleased beyond words. It had been a long time since Harry had looked so happy.
He had arrived at Grimmauld Place just before his birthday and even though she had known that Harry would be suffering from the loss of Sirius, seeing him gaunt and with haunted eyes had been a shock. He had been too thin again, and over the last three weeks, she had been trying to fatten him up and was very glad to start seeing the results of her work.
Now he even seemed to come out of his shell. He had been joking with Ron more, had taken to talking to Bill and spending some time with Remus. It really looked as if the loving atmosphere at the otherwise so unfriendly house was finally starting to pay off.
"... really don't understand why I always have to beg for more food when Harry gets his plate filled up every time it's empty."
Molly sighed and stood. "Stop complaining, Ron. You should be glad to be able to share with your friends and not keep everything to yourself."
When she turned to the stove to fry some more sausages, she heard. "But mum! It's important! It's about food."
She shook her head and smiled when she was sure nobody could see her. She had raised six sons and all of them, excepting Percy, had had almost unbearable appetites. She really shouldn't be surprised any longer.
"So, Ron. Does that mean if You-Know-Who only offers you enough sausages, you'll be willing to sell all of us out?"
Molly whirled around. "Bill! Don't talk..." But she stopped when she saw most people at the table laughing. The only one who wasn't was Remus, and even he had an amused smile on his face. She looked at Harry and was glad to see that he apparently hadn't taken the remark seriously.
Instead he leaned over his plate and looked at Bill, who sat two seats down from his. "Ron would never do that."
"Ha! See Bill, finally somebody who knows me!"
"He would have to add at least a bottle of Firewhiskey a week and a personal harem." Molly saw him wink at Bill.
She decided to ignore the last words in favour of listening to the whole table -€“ including Remus this time -€“ erupting into laughter. It was good to hear it once again.
She turned the sausages once more in the pan and then slid them onto a plate. That would have to be enough. She returned to the table and sat the plate down in front of her two youngest boys. "Here you go."
Ron started to heap three sausages onto his plate right away, Harry not far behind.
"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley." At least he had better manners.
She looked over the table to see if anybody else needed anything and noticed that Bill seemed unusually stressed. Now that he wasn't laughing any longer, he was frowning at something further down the table and Molly wondered what could be going wrong. He had seemed preoccupied during the last two weeks and the way he was staring with single-minded intensity in the direction of the younger kids worried her.
Perhaps he was having problems with Fleur? He barely spoke of her anymore and after a few early disputes, there hadn't been any indication of him wanting to invite her into the Order and the house. Molly sat down again and resolved to try and talk to him about it later on.
* * *
"... have any problems with your... love life, then I'm here for you just as much as for anything else."
"No, Bill. I know how hard it is for boys your age to talk to their mothers about relationships. I just want you to know that even if you have problems in that area, your family will always be there for you." She grabbed his hand and stroked it lightly. "I'm sure you can move in here permanently if you have problems at your flat."
She put her hands on Bill's cheek and pulled his head down to kiss his cheek. Then she moved through the door and Bill closed it behind her.
He leaned his head against it and sighed.
His mother could be more persistent than Egyptian sunburn. Time and time again, she had almost made him have a heart attack. There was that one time when she decided it would be time for them to have A Talk and nothing in the world could convince her that Bill already knew enough. Then there was that time when on the visit to Egypt a few years ago she had decided it would be a good idea to clean his flat. Including the box at the bottom of his wardrobe that contained his sex toys.
And now he had really thought it had happened. That she had found out that one little piece about him that he definitely didn't want her to know. Something that he himself had only acknowledged a few days before and wasn't ready to confront yet.
He pushed away from the door and slowly made his way back to the armchair he had occupied before the interruption and to his now lukewarm beer. He settled down and absentmindedly started to fiddle with the label on the bottle.
His thoughts returned to the topic they had occupied half an hour before. So far he had always thought he had been happy with Fleur, but more and more the differences in their upbringing and culture became a problem in the relationship. She was a lovely girl, there was nothing to that, but like in every relationship after a while the problems had started to trickle in and were slowly building a wall between them.
And then such a lovely arse as Harry's came along.
He had never noticed it before, but then up until now it had always been covered by his way too large clothes; clothes that his mother had all shrunk to an acceptable size in a fit of disgust at Harry's relatives.
And damn, was it a nice arse! Wiggling in the jeans when Harry went up the stairs, almost pushed into his face when Harry bent down to pick up the book he had dropped, teasing him day in and out with the fact that that arse was underage and at the same time went with a hot body and a good brain.
No matter how he turned the matter over in his head (and he had done quite a bit of that), he always came to the same conclusion: Harry had a lovely arse and he wanted nothing more than to shag it.
And hit himself with a frying pan for even thinking about Harry that way. For one he barely knew the boy and he had just lost his godfather and he was only sixteen - not even officially old enough for sex - and he was his smallest -€“ okay, youngest - brother's best friend. The same brother whose diapers he had changed only a few - yeah, okay fifteen - years ago. It was simply wrong.
On the other hand, Harry had started flirting with him. At least, if he hadn'€™t read the signs totally wrong. And he usually never did. The little glances Harry threw him when he asked something about defence, the small almost accidental touches; it all only led to one conclusion: Harry also was interested in Bill.
And Bill definitely was interested in Harry. So really, the only question that remained was: What was he going to do about it?
He took a sip of his beer and closed his eyes, letting the warm fluid run into his stomach. There was really only one thing to do if he still wanted to be able to look himself in the face in the morning: Nothing.
If something were going to happen, it would be up to Harry to make the first step.
* * *
Harry lay back on his bed and blew his fringe off his glasses. A strand of hair got stuck under the frames and with an impatient tug, he pulled it loose and back.
Being back at Grimmauld Place had been a challenge from the second he had landed in the kitchen in a heap of Floo powder and soot, Hedwig screeching next to him.
He had thought the time at the Dursleys had made everything strangely better. Nobody had been there to pity him and he had just been able to spend his days working through his emotions, even if he hadn't wanted to, there had just been nothing else to do. He had thought that he'd come to terms with the fact that Sirius was really dead. Even if it had been hard.
Coming here to Sirius' house and him not being here and had driven that lesson home. What a bitter lesson. He had never wanted had to learn it. But he saw everybody around him getting on with their lives -€“ even Remus as he had asked Harry to call him -€“ and after two difficult first weeks, he was finally starting to feel better here.
Something else his three-week stint at the Dursleys had led to were some resolutions that he would try his damnest to fulfil. His new outlook on life had led to a rather intense snogging session with Ginny one week into his stay. Even though he thought that Ginny might have enjoyed it much more than he did. He still couldn't get over the wet factor of these kinds of kisses.
Still, he had decided that he was going to live life just as he thought Sirius had wanted him to. And in his opinion of Sirius that included snogging with as many cute witches as he could.
And not dying a virgin of course. He was sure that had been one of the things normal boys like Sirius, his dad and Remus had worried about and it was something he was going to think about as well. It wasn't as if he wasn't thinking about sex most of the time anyway. And if he was going to die fighting Voldemort, he at least wanted to collect as many good memories as he could.
The only problem remained of course that he was an absolute idiot while talking to girls and the only girls that he wouldn't endanger were Hermione and Ginny, because they were already associated with him anyway. Of course, if he asked Hermione it could well be that Ron saved Voldemort the job. And after snogging Ginny, he really didn't have a big desire to get closer to her. He already lived in daily fear of her brothers finding out about that.
So, he had held his eyes open. And he had noticed that he really liked talking to Bill. He was funny, intelligent and one of the few adults who didn't treat him like a kid. No matter what he asked about Defence, Bill always answered him as best as he could even if the answer was uncomfortable for him.
And really, he told himself firmly; under these circumstances it wasn't a surprise that he had developed something of a crush on Bill. After that disastrous date with Cho last year he had started to think it might be nice to not to have to worry about all that and instead have a relationship with a species he could understand.
And what better person could there be than one of the Weasleys?
He had found out he trusted Bill. And he had thought that Bill had been looking at him, but no matter what he had tried to get Bill's attention, nothing had worked so far. Admittedly, he wasn't the brightest in everything to do with relationships, but he had really thought he had been obvious enough without making it apparent enough for Ron -€“ or even worse Mrs. Weasley -€“ to find out.
Perhaps he had been wrong about Bill being interested, or just simply misinterpreted his friendliness.
Or perhaps he just had to give Bill a little push and even kill two birds with one stone. Harry grinned and pushed his fringe off his glasses again while a plan -€“ which would probably be just up Sirius' alley - was beginning to form in his mind.
* * *
Bill groaned when he tried to turn in his bed, but some weight atop him was hindering his movement. He tried to buck the weight off, but it wouldn't move. Then he tried to grab the weight and simply push it off, but he couldn't move his hands either.
He had a moment of panic, before a voice above him calmed him. "Bill! It's me, Harry. I only wanted to ask you something."
Bill finally opened his eyes and in the glow of the last embers in the fireplace, he could see a slight figure sitting over him. The glow from the fire gave him a halo around his black mane and Bill calmed down a bit. Then it registered what Harry had said. A question? That was a slightly strange situation to have a question about defence.
Bill swallowed. Or perhaps it wasn't about defence at all. Perhaps Harry had finally caught on to Bill's behaviour and wanted to -€“ what? Kill him? Punch him? Snog him?
He shook his head firmly. No sense in speculation when the answer was sitting right on his stomach. "Harry. What is so important that you have to ask me in the middle of the night? And why this strange way of asking?"
He could hear Harry taking a deep breath and then his question rushed out of him. "Bill, have you been ogling my arse?"
Bill swallowed. Harry sounded indifferent to his question, but there was no doubt he would be angry about it. Of course, he would say no. It was simply a matter of keeping the house peaceful.
"I..." But when he really thought about it, perhaps Harry wouldn'€™t be that opposed. He was sitting on Bill's stomach after all, having Bill bound to his bed in the middle of the night instead of asking that question in the middle of dinner for maximum impact.
"It's an easy question, Bill. Have you or haven't you?"
Quite without finishing his thoughts, Bill already answered "Yes.". He waited for a probable impact of angry sixteen-years old with his body, and wasn't really surprised when Harry collided with him.
He was surprised however, when instead of pummelling himself stupid, he found his lips covered by Harry's, his bound arms straining to touch the body over his. He tried to tell Harry to free him -€“ how had he managed to bind Bill without waking him up anyway? -€“ but his words were muffled by eager, though inexpert lips and a tongue that slowly made its way towards Bill's.
A slightly too wet tongue pushing against his, trying to engage it into play, brought Bill to the conclusion that he couldn't really say or do anything at the moment and better go with the flow, so to speak. At least that was what he told himself when he curled his tongue around Harry's, stomach coiling at the delighted sigh Harry gave at this.
For the moment he was able to ignore his screaming conscience -€“ after all, it was Harry who had started this and wasn't that just what he had had as a condition for anything he might do with Harry? -€“ and instead he focused on Harry's movements.
Harry's hands were supporting himself on Bill's chest, fingers moving faintly against his skin, touching his nipples from time to time but never lingering. Bill could feel blood rushing into his cock at the innocent touches, making him glad that Harry wasn't sitting lower on his body.
Bill tried to take control of the kiss, but Harry's breath ran out before he could. His mouth was suddenly fully under his control again, his tongue feeling lonely and Harry panting into his face. Harry's hands were gripping him tighter now, nails digging into his pecs and he wasn't so far gone not to notice that Harry's hard-on was digging into his stomach.
His senses slowly returned, leaving him aware of the fact that a lovely, hot and decidedly underage body was currently undulating on top of him. He tugged on his restraints once more, finally thinking of simply asking to be freed.
"Har-," he winced at the scratchy feeling of his throat, cleared it, and then he tried again. "Harry, could you untie me? My arms are starting to fall asleep."
Large, green eyes slowly blinked at him, seemingly not understanding or at least not processing all of the words he had just painfully produced. "Harry? Please?"
The eyes in front of his face suddenly cleared and a mischievous smile stretched across his face. "Well, I could. But I won't."
Bill swallowed. If Harry kept using that voice, he didn't have anything against that. He had never heard him with such a low and smooth voice. In fact, he still remembered the embarrassing squeaks Harry had produced before the Quidditch World Cup and even still sometimes last summer holidays.
Somewhere along the way he had grown up without notifying Bill about it. Not that Bill was complaining. His thoughts from the day before came back to him. It had been up to Harry to make the first step and if this didn't count, he didn't know what would.
His stomach flopped when Harry moved lower onto his body, keeping contact with Bill's skin all the time, and taking Bill's low-riding pyjama bottoms with him. "Ow!" Bill couldn't suppress the wince when the elastic caught on his erection. He wanted to reach down and adjust himself, but was once again reminded that he wasn't able to move.
He looked down and Harry threw him a sheepish smile. He lifted himself a bit and drew the waistband over Bill's hard-on more carefully this time. "Sorry."
"No pro-oh-oh-blem! Damn." Bill liked Harry's way of apologising with his mouth. He pulled himself up against the headboard, wanting to see Harry while he did what he was doing. He swallowed against his tight throat, puling air through his teeth when Harry was a bit too rough. "Teeth!"
His grimace turned into a grin at the mumbled 'sorry' and view he could see before him. Harry's shaggy hair flew into his eyes and he kept pushing it out of his mouth, but his cheeks were glowing and he looked as if he certainly was enjoying himself. As well as giving Bill a lot of joy feeling and watching him. He was only wearing boxer shorts, his white skin getting a healthy glow in the left-over light from the fireplace on one side and being cast in the shadows on the other. A decidedly good look on Harry, kneeling in front of him with his mouth around Bill's cock.
Time and time again, Bill had to remind himself that Harry obviously hadn't done this before. It wouldn't do any good to choke him and perhaps turn him off this activity forever. But damn, he wanted to! He tried to keep a tight control on his reaction, Harry's hands on his hips helping him in suppressing that damnable thrusting he wanted to do.
Harry eventually pulled off him, moving up his body and kissing Bill again. He plunged his tongue into Bill's mouth, once more inviting him to play. Bill obliged only too happily. His conscience had flown somewhere out the window and he really was better off for it.
Bill drew in a deep breath when Harry let go of his mouth. He leaned his head against the headboard, lust and anticipation curling in his stomach. He was breathing heavily and could see small sweat drop glistering on Harry's chest as well as on his own.
He was shocked out of his contemplation, when Harry positioned himself above Bill's erection. "No!" Harry looked up at him with wide eyes.
Bill longed for his ability to touch Harry, but this would have to do for now. He jerked his head to the left. "In my bedside table is a bottle of lotion. Put some on your fingers and prepare yourself and me before you do that. If you still want to, that is." He looked into Harry's face, but didn't detect any fear there, only determination and lust.
He let his head sink back again while Harry rummaged through his bedside drawer, finally pushing it shut again. The plop of the bottle opening drew his attention again.
Harry had his fingers dipped into the oil Bill liked to use, then he could only moan when Harry guided the finger behind him and started to probe himself. Bill couldn't exactly see what was going on, but Harry's face was already turn-on enough. He didn't think he'd be able to take much more anyway.
His eyes were blazing while he alternated between looking at Bill and throwing his head back to utter the most delicious noises Bill could imagine. He could detect little flashes of scrunched brows and tightened lips flickering across Harry's face, but they were always quickly erased by more blissful expressions.
When Bill only wanted to shout at him to finally hurry and start on Bill as well, Harry already curled his hand with the rest of the oil around Bill's cock. With his other hand, he stretched over to put the bottle back on the bedside table, and then returned to the position he had taken before.
Bill and Harry moaned in unison when Harry finally sank down on Bill. Bill could see that Harry was still squeezing his eyes shut tight. He kept his hips still, letting Harry set the rhythm and force of the movement.
Harry's hands pressed against Bill's chest, slipping from time to time on the slick skin. He started moving himself up and down, setting a slow rhythm at first that started to increase with his confidence.
* * *
Bill entered the kitchen, whistling 'Sparks Out Of Your Wand', the newest song by the Weird Sisters, but the tone quickly died when his brain registered who was sitting at the table.
Impossibly light blue eyes were peering at him from under a stylish fringe of silvery hair. He could feel his libido returning to him at an amazing speed, but then he remembered the counters to Veela charms. Being a curse breaker did have its merits, even if it only was in small situations like this. They weren't even proper spells, but more of a state of mind that one had to remember when dealing with Veelas.
He cleared his throat. "Fleur. What are you doing here? I thought you wanted to do a shopping trip in Paris this week and visit some of your relatives."
Fleur only stared at him and Bill slid down on the bench opposite her. How had she got in here? And really, where was everybody? Usually you needed a banishing charm to get his mother out of the kitchen.
His question must have shown on his face, because Fleur explained herself. "I had wanted to speak wiz you and followed you 'ere. Professor Dumbledore was so kind as to show me in. 'E said zat maybe we 'ad somezing to discuss."
Bill nodded. The hour of truth had come much earlier than he had thought. "Fleur, I... we... you know that..."
Fleur gripped his hand. "Bill, I know what you are going to say. And I... I wanted to say zat I do not zink we should be togezer any longer." She let his hand fall back on the table and leaned back slightly. Bill couldn't interpret the look on her face, but he knew his own had to mirror his surprise. This sounded easier than it was supposed to be.
A smile began to spread over his face. "I'm glad you see it that way, Fleur. I know I really enjoyed my time with you, but I think we simply don't match very well in the long run."
He watched, concerned when the strange expression crumbled from Fleur's face and tears started to well in her eyes. What had he said?
With a muffled sound, Fleur turned away from him and hid her face in her hands. For a few moments neither of them said anything, Bill too surprised to know what to say, Fleur apparently unable to form words.
Eventually, she lifted her head again. "Bill... I didn't... I mean..." She took a deep breath and straightened up, her face closing off all emotions. "I suppose I shall move my zings from our flat zen. I would appreciate it if you could give me a week to find other accommodations and move my zings, Mr. Weasley."
Bill blinked a few times and he was quite sure that he looked somewhat ridiculous, but he managed to force out. "Of course, Fleur. I can stay here for a while. Take all the time you need." He smiled tentatively. "Perhaps we can still get together after work sometime to continue your English studies."
Fleur looked at him as if he had just killed her non-existent dog. "I do not zink zat would be appropriate Mr. Weasley. I shall look for a different tutor."
Before Bill could really understand what was happening, the door opened and Dumbledore entered the room.
"Ah, Ms Delacour, Bill. I hope everything has been discussed to your satisfaction?" Bill gave a light nod, still confused by Fleur's strange behaviour. She had wanted to break up with him. Then why was she so miffed when he agreed that it was to the best?
He saw that Fleur didn't look up, but apparently Dumbledore didn't need any more encouragement to lead her out of the house. Bill stayed in the door, glad that as long as he still was in the house nobody could see him.
From his position he could see Fleur and Dumbledore talking quietly. Fleur was shaking slightly, but Bill wasn't sure if it was because of tears or something else. Dumbledore earnestly talked to Fleur for a few minutes, after which Fleur nodded tersely.
Bill observed, as Dumbledore pointed his wand at Fleur, not fully pulling is wand out in order not to alert any Muggles, and even from several yards away, he could hear the low, but powerful word. "Obliviate."
Bill pulled back into the house, his last view being of Fleur casting a confused glance around, seemingly not seeing Dumbledore standing right next to her, and then walking away in direction of the city. He retreated to the kitchen, the conversation still hanging on his mind. They had been together for more than a year and no matter how many problems there had been in the end, he still couldn't just shake that time off.
He looked up from his reflections when the door opened and Dumbledore entered. He smiled genially and made Bill feel better simply by being there.
Bill nodded at Dumbledore. "Professor."
"Bill." Dumbledore took out his wand and conjured a set of teacups and a teapot. He reached into the pocket of his shimmering robes and took out a small metal box. "Sherbet lemon?" Bill took one with quiet thanks. Ever since he had been head boy and had had to talk to Dumbledore from time to time, he had become very fond of the sweet. Unfortunately, you couldn't get them in Egypt.
Dumbledore poured them both a cup of tea, and then he gazed at Bill thoughtfully. "I am sad to hear that your relationship with Ms Delacour did not last."
Bill just shrugged. In front of Dumbledore he always felt like a schoolboy again and so he didn't feel especially motivated to tell Dumbledore about his feelings on the subject. Especially not his feelings concerning Harry. He couldn't imagine that Dumbledore -€“ no matter how tolerant and eccentric he usually was -€“ would approve of that development.
"From what I gathered from Ms Delacour, she hadn't intended to end the relationship today."
Here Bill finally showed a reaction. "B... but she was the one who said it first!" He winced when he noticed that he also sounded like a schoolboy.
Dumbledore smiled at him, his eyes twinkling at Bill's no doubt helpless face. "I have to admit, I never had the fortune of understanding women completely, but I believe she decided that in order to strengthen the bond of your relationship, you should be made aware of what you would be missing if she was not available."
Bill could only blink at him. Then he shook his head. That plan didn't make any sense whatsoever.
Bill watched, still mystified by what he had just heard, as Dumbledore drained the rest of his tea, vanished the tea set and gave a small bow. "As delightful as meeting you has been, I'm afraid I have some other duties to attend to. Good bye, Bill."
When Dumbledore left through the door, Harry entered, wet hair glistering in the light of the fireplace. He looked at Bill's face questioningly. "Did I miss anything?"
Bill sighed and leant his head on one of his hands. "Only an episode with Fleur this morning and my final confirmation that I understand absolutely nothing about women."
Harry looked perplexed for a moment. Then he came over to the table and patted Bill's hair. "Welcome to my world." He grinned into Bill's upturned face. "Just be glad that I'm not female and you won't have any more problems in that area."
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