The Love Of A Good Wizard

Making History

The week before the New Year's Ball went by very quickly. There was a lot of planning for the Slug Club taking place, both in private and with Professor Slughorn, who seemed to warm more and more to the idea of using it as a tutoring tool.

And day by day, more of the few students spending their entire holidays at Hogwarts joined the small group at whichever house table they chose to sit. At first by invitation from Minerva or Harry, but soon they would simply wander over, wait until they were greeted with a nod or a smile, and then sit down and join in the conversation. By New Year's Eve, the few teachers present had decided to abandon the teachers' table to join them there as well.

* * *

On New Year's Eve, Harry woke Tom up with a 'Happy Birthday' whispered into his ear, before moving down between his legs to wake him up properly, and between incoherent grunts and stifled moans, Tom managed to express his gratitude for the present, only to end up having his next moan mutate into a chuckle when Harry pushed the duvet back and knelt over him with a big smile, wearing nothing but a long green ribbon, artfully arranged to cover very little of him, and completed with a gift tag in the vicinity of his navel which said simply, 'Unwrap me.'

"Oh, I will," Tom promised huskily, and Harry bent down again with a devious smirk to go back to the task at hand.

That afternoon, most of Hogwarts returned just in time for the evening's ball, and Harry was only too glad to remain in Tom's room while they got ready. He stood in front of the mirrored dresser, wearing only underwear, socks, his dress shirt and a bowtie not yet done up, and admiring the ring that had been Tom's Yule present - plain silver engraved with intricate Egyptian hieroglyphs and embellished with a single, tiny emerald.

He was so engrossed in it, he didn't even hear Tom casting silencing and locking spells on the door before approaching him from behind with a smirk. When long-fingered hands came to rest on his hips, Harry looked up, smiling at Tom's reflection in the mirror. "What are you doing?"

"Warming you up for later," Tom purred, pressing himself full-length along Harry's back.

Harry lost his balance from the sudden pressure, using his hands to support himself on the dresser. Tom's hands covered them immediately, his fingers resting in the spaces between Harry's.

"I watched you eating those tiny winter raspberries after lunch," Tom murmured. "Your lips have been bright pink ever since, and I haven't been able to look at anything else."

"I've noticed," Harry teased. "You were staring at me all afternoon." He grinned. "Everyone who sat at the table with us today won't be surprised at the ball tonight."

Tom returned his smile in the mirror. "Do you like it when I stare at you, Harry, and you know I'm having very dirty thoughts about you?" Tom flicked his tongue against Harry's earlobe.

"Hmm..." Harry arched his neck, rubbing his cheek against Tom's. "Tell me what you were thinking."

"I was thinking about devouring your mouth until there'd be no hint of raspberry left." Tom pressed hard against Harry's backside, and Harry moaned and turned his head so Tom could capture his lips for a long, indulgent kiss. When their mouths parted again, Tom continued, "And then I thought about how flushed and excited you'd be by the time I was done kissing you. And how hard and needy." Tom reached in front of Harry to cup his erection, and Harry mewled softly. "Just like that." Tom chuckled low in his throat; Harry felt it right down to his toes. "I bet I could make you beg."

"Prove it," Harry challenged, smirking at Tom's reflection in the mirror. Before he could brace himself, Tom gripped his hips, pushed his legs apart, and bent him forward to lean low over the dresser until his backside stuck out provocatively. Harry squeaked with surprise.