Ginger-Scar Bill

Harry Potter and Bill Weasley ship.

Opinions
HPshipper: Could work. Love Harry with the Weasleys.

T
A single earring dangled in front of Harry. He reached for it, his fingers itching to touch the vicious fang. Something thudded into his side and the suspended earring wavered and dissolved.

"Harry! Wake up."

Harry groaned.

"It's Christmas vacation, Ron. I get to sleep in."

Ron shrugged. "Yeah, but it's Christmas vacation. You get to not do anything, and the more you're awake, the more time you have to do that." Before Harry could protest this dubious logic, he continued, "Anyway, we're going to the Burrow. Mum sent a letter." He waved a half-rolled piece of parchment.

"Oh. The Burrow?" Harry struggled to sit up. He never was much good at thinking first thing in the morning. "We've got to go to the Yule Ball." He winced in memory. He'd told Ron it was shyness that delayed him in inviting a girl to the Ball. Ron hadn't thought to ask why he turned so many girls down when they asked him. He had a date now, a pretty girl to start the dance with...Oh gods.

"Are we going to miss it?" he asked, hope creeping into his voice.

"Nope. She says, mm, '...tell Harry not to worry; it's just for the week."

"Oh. Great. Uh, why?"

"I reckon the Dark Mark really scared her. Says she wants to see us all as much as possible. Bill and Charlie'll be there too!"

Harry's heart jumped.

"Yeah," Ron continued, "And Percy too, of course. Don't see why he can't get a flat in town. D'ya think he's still working on thick bottomed cauldrons? I still can't believe he didn't tell us about the Tournament...His own brothers!" He wandered off, shaking his head.

The next morning dawned cold and windy, but Harry's heart felt as warm as if he were standing next to a roaring fire... He shook his head. Was everybody cursed with a pretentious inner monologue? He stuffed his bag into the overhead bin and sat down next to Ron and Hermione. They'd had no trouble finding an empty compartment with so many students staying for the Yule Ball.

"How are we getting back to Hogwarts, Ron?" Hermione asked. "The train doesn't come back until the end of break."

Harry looked up in surprise. He hadn't thought of that. Granted, the storming-in part of a plan was more his strength than the getting-back-out-after part.

"Oh, right," said Ron through a mouthful of Chocolate Frog. "Dad'll apparate us back or something."

"How many times do I have to tell you-"

"To outside the castle, ok?"

Harry could hear the second question mark leap into place. Muttering something about getting more snacks, he escaped into the corridor as his two best friends fell to arguing. Honestly, he thought, why don't they just go ahead and shag?

Oh my GOD, thought Harry. When I said they should shag, I didn't mean in my ROOM. He backed slowly out of the room he was sharing with Ron for the week as the two hastily scooted under the covers. Ignoring Hermione's call of 'Harry! Wait!' he bolted from the house, bewildering feelings swamping him.

So the two of them had found true love in each other's arms, had they? Bully for them. He felt betrayed. By them, yes, but no less by his own body's reaction to seeing Ron's lanky form in passionate, um, passion. And, attraction notwithstanding, there was the simple ick factor of seeing his two best friends screwing... Oh god. He wandered out into the delightfully overgrown garden. Within the low stone walls it was still full summer. More bloody cool weirdness at the Weasely's. There was a rosebush next to the kitchen door. Harry leaned down and sniffed at one exquisite bloom.

"Harry?"

He jumped. A thorn tore his finger.

"Oh, shit," he said.

Bill was standing behind him, amused smile stretching his lips.

"So unhappy to see me, Harry?"

"What? Er, no! Um. Nice ring."

Bill smiled again and touched the lip ring. Harry stared.

"This? Thanks. New acquisition. Mum's not too happy about it."

As Harry stood there trying to think of something to talk about aside from the way Bill flashed his tongue out to touch the ring, Bill stepped forward.

"Are you ok?"

Harry took a breath.

"I-Oh! Right. This. I mean, it's ok. I just nicked it on the rose bush." Bill took Harry's hand in his, his fingers oh-so-gentle. He tapped the bleeding finger with his wand, then wiped away the drops of blood. Oh my god, thought Harry. This is so cliched.

"Alright now, Harry?"

"Aksfgl."

"Good. I have to go. Running errands for Mum and all that. Careful next time you try to pick a rose."

He turned away, the end of his ponytail fanning out slightly. Harry stood dumbly. Great. Something else to be bewildered about. But his heart was light and his throat tight with that sort of wild emotion that finds an outlet in laughter as he walked deeper into the garden.

Hermione found him under an peach tree later that afternoon.

"Harry?" she asked tremulously, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

She sighed. Harry could be so annoyingly manly at times. Not, of course, all the time. She glanced up at the peach tree.

"I'm sorry, Harry."

He didn't reply or look at her as she sat down next to him.

"We should have at least told you."

More silence.

"I know you've been having a difficult year..."

"Hermione," said Harry, "I'm fine." He was, actually. Logic had made a cautious appearance under the peach tree and reminded him that he had known they liked each other, and had, in fact, been silently telling them to get a room all semester. That didn't mean he couldn't be hurt and broody, though. He stared off into the distance.

"But you have! I mean, with the tournament and everything..." You want to talk about it, Harry, her eyes urged.

Harry sighed.

"I just wish I knew who put my name in the cup."

"Mm."

"And I don't dance."

"Hmm."

"But I'm working on the egg, really!"

Yeah, sure. "Is there anything else, Harry?"

"What? No." He lapsed back into silence.

"You must be sad about Cho. Are you happy with your date, though?"

"No. I mean, yeah. She's pretty. Um. Hermione?"

"Yes?" Ahaha, here it was. Hermione decided she would make an

excellent Aruour, wrenching confessions out of Death Eaters over a cup of tea... But Harry just shrugged and lapsed back into silence.

Oh! Silly boy.

"Is there someone else you like, Harry?"

"Bill."

"What?"

"Bill."

"Oh. He's cute."

Harry looked at her in astonishment.

"Hermione! I'm gay."

"Ok." She smiled at him. "Is he?"

"Um? I...don't know."

"Maybe you should ask him."

"Hermione! I'm GAY. That's, that's BAD."

"Nonsense," replied Hermione matter-of-factly. "It's not something

that gets talked about much in the wizarding world, but it's not considered evil or anything. You should tell him."

"Oh, sure."

"Really, Harry. You'll feel better if you tell people."

"Hmgh. You don't seem surprised."

"Remember Lupin? I'm good at figuring things out. Besides, you've

always been good with a broomstick."

"Huh?"

"Nevermind. Lunch will be ready soon; I have to go help Mrs.

Weasley."

She left, leaving Harry more bewildered than before.

Lunch was pie. Pie, pie, pie. Meat pie to start and apple pie for dessert.

Ron gave Harry a slightly guilty look and dug in. Harry sat next to Bill. Hermione looked amused and sat next to Ginny. She looked positively smug when Bill asked Harry if he wanted a tour around the town.

"And you can help me carry the groceries," said Bill.

"Ok," said Harry.

It was Bill's idea to take a dip in the stream on their way back. Harry took one look at the snow rimming its banks and crossed his arms. Bill would have to come up with a much better place to get naked. Er. Anyway. It was cold.

"You're kidding."

"No! See..." He took out his wand. Harry thought of Freud. He stroked it gently. Harry stopped thinking.

"I figured out this spell when I was cursebreaking up in Siberia. I was dying for a bath and everything had ice floating on it." He murmured a spell. The chill of the winter air faded from Harry's skin. It got very hot, in fact, though that could have been because Bill had just taken off his shirt.

He'd just come back from a prolonged trip to Australia; according to the twins, it had been 99 percent sunbathing and one percent working. His chest was bronzed, odd looking in the watery winter light. Stripping down to his trousers and reveling that the tan covered his whole body, Bill leaped into the water. Idly wondering if he had been sunbathing naked, Harry followed suit.

"Your nipple?"

"Um." Harry put a protective hand to his chest.

"It's...nice." Bill swam closer. "How long have you had it?"

"Um," said Harry again. Bill was very close. "Since last summer."

"Why?" He was playing with his own ring with the tip of his tongue.

"I'm not sure, really. I, I wanted something different about that was by my own choice. That sounds silly, I know. I'm just about as different as you can get as a teen. But none of it's been by my own will."

"Makes sense." Bill looked thoughtful. "Besides," he added, "They're fun to play with."

Goosebumps ran down Harry's arms as Bill rubbed the ring between his fingers.

"Cold?" Bill purred. "The spell must be wearing off. I should warm you up."

Harry panicked.

"Yes!" he said, "it must be! We should be getting back. Mrs. Weasley will be wondering where we are!"

He turned and stumbled out of the water.

The walk home was one long awkward silence.

M
Bill remembers the First War.

His father always left early for the ministry and always returned home late. Before departing, he would kiss his wife and sons good-bye as if it was the last time he would see them. Ron was just a baby then, so he would take care of Charlie, Percy and the twins to help his mother out. His mother would pat his shoulder, and murmur You're a good boy although her eyes would hardly stray from the clock where it showed 'Arthur Weasley' at 'Work'.

Bill also remembers when Harry Potter 'The-Boy-Who-Lived' defeated You-Know-Who. He had woken up because Charlie had had a nightmare and they had been sitting in the kitchen having warm milk when his father had come home excited, the wrinkles around his eyes seeming to have vanished since that very morning when Bill had last seen him.

He had laughed happily as he picked Charlie up and swung him around, before moving to his wife's side. You-Know-Who is gone, Molly he had said before kissing her soundly. Shortly thereafter, he and Charlie had been ushered back to bed, however it wasn't long before the tale of Harry Potter became a nightly bedtime story.

He wasn't quite sure what he expected Harry Potter to look like, but it wasn't the fourteen-year-old boy that had stood in front of him the first time they had met. He guessed in hindsight that it was rather ridiculous to expect some chiseled handsome super-hero from one of his mother's romance novel, but he certainly expected some thing greater from the defeater of You-Know-Who.

Harry had been attractive for a fourteen year old, but more in a beautiful way then a handsome way. He was short and thin with flawless skin and too-big glasses, but there was some thing striking about him, even then.

Bill had been captivated.

After seeing him off on the Hogwarts Express, he didn't get to see him again until the third task. When he had found out that Harry would be competing in the tournament, his heart had clenched in fear. The longer he knew Harry the more special he seemed to become. The more he fit into the role of the 'heroic savior'.

As soon as he had learnt that his mother would be going to Hogwarts to see Harry, he had asked for time off work. There was no way he would miss the chance to see the young wizard who had captured his attention. He was an enigma to Bill. The deeper he looked the more puzzle pieces he would find and Bill wouldn't stop until he pieced together this puzzle. He couldn't.

After the task, he didn't get a good look at Harry until he came into the infirmary. He looked as if he would faint, and perhaps a lesser man would have, but not Harry. His obsession grew.

That summer, between work, Order meetings and the upcoming war, he didn't get to see Harry very much, although when he was in the room, Bill's attention was riveted. He found himself slightly jealous of the casual touches between Sirius and Harry, or even Ron and Harry but couldn't fathom why. And then Harry was heading back to Hogwart's again to complete his fifth year, and Bill only got to see him sparingly at Christmas.

It was three weeks before Harry had to return to Hogwarts that he was brought back to Order headquarters. Bill had been visiting the house once or twice a week all summer, but when he heard that Harry was coming, he decided that he would take his holiday leave and be a more active member of the Order. Well, that was his excuse anyway, and if anybody was suspicious they didn't question him about it.

The first thought he had when he laid eyes on Harry again was that he had changed. For the better his mind supplied helpfully. He had matured. The scrawniness had given way to spry supple muscles and a lean agile body. Standing before him was a boy on the cusp of becoming a man, and Bill felt his dick twitch in appreciation.

It wasn't until the next morning when he woke up with a throbbing erection that Bill understood the jealousy he had felt and the depth to his obsession. In his dream, he had been lucky enough to discover just how nimble Harry was. The slight self-loathing he felt at lusting after a boy his youngest brothers age did nothing to dissuade his hand from touching himself in the shower.

That morning, Bill couldn't look Harry in the eye.

The weeks that followed were much the same. Bill would wake up either spent, or close to it, have a morning wank in the shower, determinedly not meet Harry's eyes over the breakfast table and then spend every free moment for the rest of the day watching him.

He also got to get closer to Harry during those weeks, with Harry engaging him in conversations about Egypt and curse breaking. They played a few games of chess while discussing Quidditch and Hogwarts and the new relationship between Ron and Hermione.

The day Harry left for Hogwarts was hectic as per usual, the only difference was the confrontation between Harry and himself that was out of the ordinary. Bill had been in the kitchen alone when Harry had walked in. A slight flush stained his cheeks as he looked up at Bill through his lashes.

"I guess I'll see you next summer," he had murmured, before pressing his body to Bill's, wrapping his arms loosely around his neck. His hands automatically rested upon the boy's small hips before Harry pulled away and walked out of the kitchen, leaving Bill painfully erect.

That year, his nights were filled with erotic fantasies and his mornings of masturbation.

The next summer, Harry came on his birthday, where a small party was held in honor of his coming of age. Bill watched him the whole day, noticing the changes the year had brought. He still had a Seeker's body; lean and sinewy with a strong jawbone and a five o'clock shadow over his upper lip. His voice was lower and his hands were bigger. His shoulders looked wider, stronger though his hips were still slim. By the end of his inspection, fantasies were running rampant through his head and Bill had to cross his ankle over his knee so that his erection wasn't noticed.

A short time later Harry had excused himself from conversation and made his way over to Bill, sitting close beside him on the couch, bringing a Butterbeer for each of them. He proceeded to make small talk, although there was a sparkle to his eyes and a quirk to his lips.

Harry had looked around, disinterestedly before bringing his gaze back to Bill. He lifted his hand to straighten his glasses – something Bill knew he did a lot – however, when he brought his hand back down, he rested it upon Bill's thigh. Bill's breath had hitched, as he tried to remember what it was he had been speaking about.

With his ankle still crossed over his knee, the thigh in question offered a lot of room for a hand to slide between his legs, but Bill tried not to think of that. He had just got a rhythm in his talking again when the hand started to move slightly; the thumb was rubbing circles over his thigh and he was once more reduced to slight stutters and long pauses.

Bill wasn't sure how to continue. Should he say something and risk scaring Harry off, or should he pretend like nothing was happening with the chance that Harry would think he wasn't interested. He decided for now that he would continue his story and see how far Harry would go. Bill was ready to pound the boy into the mattress, although he doubted Harry was ready for that.

As he continued with his story, Harry continued with his ministrations. His hand was now massaging his inner thigh and moving painfully slow towards his aching cock. When it finally reached the top of his thigh and the side of his hand brushed against his shaft, he decided he would have to say something.

"Harry." It had come out as a breathy moan, but he continued anyway. "Do you know what you are doing?"

It wasn't exactly what he'd hoped to say, but it would have to do. Harry looked demurely up at him through his lashes with a quirk to his lips.

"Yes, I know," he murmured throatily, "I'm not blind," he continued, "I've seen the way you look at me. And if there was any doubt, this –" he said while finally grabbing his throbbing arousal, "- is all the proof I need."

Bill moaned low in the back of his throat as Harry's hand started massaging his cock though his pants. He closed his eyes to enjoy Harry's torturously slow ministrations, but they were interrupted before he could come.

"Dinner's ready!" His mother yelled over the crowd. It was then that Bill's eyes snapped open and took in the room. He had momentarily forgotten the twenty or so other occupants of the room and his shock must have been noticeable on his face, for Harry had smirked before getting up and following everybody into the dining room.

Bill took a few moments to make himself presentable before following the little minx. He had sat across from Harry at the dinner table and had stole glances at him, but Harry hadn't acted as if he had just been getting Bill off, and he wondered if this was another level to the puzzle that is Harry. Had he done this before and no one was the wiser?

After dinner, Harry had gone to play chess with Ron and Bill had followed them into the room, picking up a book so as not to look suspicious. He wanted to ask Harry what he was playing at but didn't get the chance. When Ron decided that he was going to bed, Harry had gone to, only glancing over his shoulder at Bill as he left the room.

At that moment Charlie had come into the room and engaged him in conversation and it wasn't until an hour later that he headed for bed. Stripping all of his clothes off he pushed the blanket to the bottom of the bed and hopped in under the thin sheet.

Thoughts of what Harry had done earlier flittered through his brain as he wrapped a hand around his penis. Harry touching him seemed to be a bigger turn on then mere fantasies, for it wasn't long before he was achingly hard again. He pushed the sheet off his dick as he started to pick up the rhythm and he didn't hear the door opening.

"I hope I'm not interrupting, am I?" said a highly amused yet seductive voice from the doorway. Bill froze, his eyes snapping to the figure in the doorway before he was lost in the clutches of an orgasm. His back arched and his hand pumped his cock a couple of times as he shot his seed all over his stomach, a string of it landing on his chin. Bill panted harshly as he watched the figure close and lock the door, before coming over to the bed.

"I guess not," Harry murmured, before taking his glasses and boxes off and lying on the bed beside him. Bill made a noise in the back of his throat, but was too shocked to do anything else. Harry leaned in close to him and Bill thought he was going to kiss him, but instead his tongue danced over his chin and Bill saw his come on it, before it disappeared into that delectable mouth.

After that, Bill was lost in a sea of pleasure, his thoughts broken and fading as desire gripped him in its merciless hold. His senses were attuned to hot mouths and hard cocks and tight channels of heat until he was buried ball-deep and coming hard, groaning out Harry's name. His vision blackened for a moment as he milked himself with a few short thrusts before the world once again swam lazily in front of him and his body hummed with satisfaction and exhaustion.

He pulled slowly out of Harry and flopped down beside him, panting harshly. Harry rolled over and gasped for breath beside of him and he smiled in satisfaction. He had tasted the forbidden fruit that was Harry Potter and now there was no turning back.

Harry had the ability to capture the attention and loyalty of those close to him and now Bill had been as close as it came. And come hell or high water, Bill would follow Harry to the ends of Earth for a repeat performance.