Disclaimer: All characters from the Harry Potter universe belong to J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Scholastic Inc., AOL/Time Warner and associated companies. No offence, legal or otherwise, is intended by the online publication of this story. Neither is profit. Make love, not lawsuits!

Notes: Albus/Harry drabble written in honor of Le Kink. An alternate universe in which Dumbledore became Harry's guardian after James and Lily died...

The Storyteller
by

Firelight molds to him like silk, shifting and transparent. Soft and gold. Mouth milk-warm and sweet. His prick rises, a small tender thorn, and you almost bend to kiss it.

'Harry.'

He turns his head lazily, eyes dark and heavy-lidded. He sighs, too tired to purr, as you trace your fingers down his thigh--then up, to his soft, velvet sex, rubbing slowly until he hardens.

This toy. So good to be given to you. Only to you. All yours. You cup his balls, stroking them, until he moans and closes his eyes again.

'Headmaster...'

'Quiet now,' you whisper, watching the warm glow of his face, the rising and falling of his young chest. You glance aside, to the red-bound book. Its gold lettering glitters in the light, enticing, pages drugged with a white poison. Sedative. You don't open it, of course, to turn cream-white pages as smooth as his thighs. You don't need to. His eyes aren't open to see what you do; he doesn't know, he doesn't need to know, he only needs your voice. You caress him slowly, smile soft as a feather. 'Let me read you a story...'