It is torturous seeing his young athletic body in those tight Quidditch robes. They hug his tight slender ass perfectly. Oh and to see him with that broom between his legs…Mmm. it's better than a wet dream. It didn't help my dreams, that after the game there was a fight in the locker room that I had to break up. Dropping my robes into the laundry pile I climb into the shower before closing my eyes and facing the scorching water letting it run over my body washing away the dirt for the day. Letting a long slender hand trail down my body I slowly grasped my hardness and stroked lazily letting my thoughts return to the locker room earlier.

~flashback~ Walking out of the pitch after the game I paused when I heard a commotion coming from the showers down the path. Knowing it couldn't be a good sign seeing as the game was between Slytherin and Gryffindor he quickened his pace and threw open the door. All chattering stopped and every face was turned towards him as he strolled into the center to see what the commotion was about, looking down at the two out of breath boys I sneered "Ah, Mr. Weasly, who would have guessed you were the cause of this?" looking towards the other boy "Mr. Montague I must say I am surprised to see you involved in this. Both of you have detention with Filch tonight. I recommend you are not late. "Turning around with the intent of stalking out I faltered as I spotted the boy himself. Having just gotten out of the shower he had a towel around his hips only being held up by a hand at his waist. Following the body up from the towel I was graced with a taught stomach and a v where the hips med t the towel. Glancing up I was glad to see clear eyes not covered with round rims. Growling to myself I stalked out of the shower room and back to the castle. ~end flashback~

I braced one hand against the cold tile as a sped up my other hand, moaning from deep in my throat I throw my head back and sigh "Oh Harry!" instantly relaxing I drop my head and watch the evidence of my desire be washed down the drain along with my dignity. Sighing I finish up washing and step out pulling a towel around myself I stare into the ever clear mirror. What I see brings a frown to my face, staring back at me is a man with long stringy black hair, and his face is pale and drawn. He has wide shoulders that lead to lanky arms with hands gripped tight onto the side of the sink, the hands themselves are long and potion stained. Bringing my attention back to his torso I trace each and every battle scar that covers his too thin chest and narrow hips. The man is not someone who would be considered beautiful, hell they wouldn't even call him pretty. My eyes snap to his and they meet, seeing the pity in his eyes I suddenly get angry, how dare there be pity. Bringing my fist forwards I watch as cracks go over the man before he shatters and falls to the floor. Staring at the broken mirror pieces I walk away and slide in my bed for the night. Staring at the ceiling a thought crosses my mind before I have a chance to let it. 'Why would Harry Potter ever look twice at an ugly sod like you when he can have his choice of the men and women of the wizarding world?' Not knowing how to respond to my own question I turn over and sigh feeling myself fall into a fitful sleep.