Harry lay awake staring at the ceiling.  It was too quiet, he finally decided.  He was used to hearing Ron snoring and Hermione sighing in her sleep after just a few months of camping with them.

Being indoors after so long outside was wearing on him as well.  The battle aftermath he could have done without, too.

Ron and Hermione had left him by the boys’ dorm and disappeared.  He knew what they were going to do since Ron had often talked about it when Hermione was out of earshot.  He hoped she’d be gentle with him considering they were both virgins, but Harry was sure she’d read everything she could and knew much more, as usual.

The dorm itself was empty.  Neville was being treated for his injuries, as was Dean.  He didn’t know where Seamus was, but he doubted Seamus was sober.  That wouldn’t be any fault of his own, though, since most of the uninjured survivors had started drinking early in the day in “celebration” of his victory.

The alcohol he’d been drinking with Ron and Hermione had long since worn off, making him maudlin.

Groaning, he flipped onto his side but still couldn’t sleep.

He thought of Ginny, how she’d looked as he headed into the Forest, and how much he wanted her.

His erection startled him.  He’d thought he was too tired, but apparently not.

Quickly shedding his pajamas, he grabbed his wand and conjured a bit of lotion.  He gripped his cock firmly, but not too tightly.  If he was going to wank, he wanted this one to last.

Sitting up slightly, he shifted his pillow so it was against his lower back, his head against the headboard.  Closing his eyes, he stroked his cock several times, hardening it, before he settled in.

He closed his fist around himself, angling his thumb to rub over the head of his cock after sliding back his foreskin.

At first, he didn’t imagine much of anything, just enjoyed himself.  He’d learned to wank quietly on their camping trip, but he didn’t enjoy being quiet.  Now that he had the dorm to himself, he could be as loud as he liked.  He groaned when his head was fully exposed, allowing him to use his foreskin to stroke the head as well.

Biting his lip, he sighed.  Tightening his grip slightly, changing the angle of his hand so he could run his middle finger over his perineum on the down stroke, he pictured Ginny’s mouth on him.

Her brown eyes would be wide, her mouth filled with my cock.  Her fingernails would dig into my thighs to hold me in place.  She would use her tongue against the vein on the underside of my cock with each upward stroke, then flick it against my slit with just the head in her mouth.  She’d be kneeling before me as I leaned back against the wall, one of my hands tangled in her hair to hold her in place.

Harry moaned at the image, but he didn’t usually imagine Ginny so submissive.  Even when he imagined her underneath him, she was urging him on, saying the filthiest things he could imagine.

My hand would be tangled in Draco Malfoy’s blond hair, holding the boy in place, making sure he sucked me well.  And, if he were lucky, I’d fuck him against the wall.  Draco’s thin lips wrapped around my cock would feel so good.  Knowing he bowed to no one but wanted the Chosen One’s cock would be a humbling experience for him.

Harry didn’t often fantasize about domination, but when he did, it was always about Draco Malfoy, especially after having Malfoy behind him on his broom.

“Fuck,” Harry panted, canting his hips upward.  He didn’t want to come yet, so he tightened his fist around the base of his cock.  But the idea of blond hair wouldn’t leave his fantasy.

Luna would look back over her shoulder and demand, “Harder,” as I drive into her.  She likes it hard, likes it when I tangle my hand in her hair and pull as I fuck her.  Her moans would arouse me, as would her whimper when I spank her.  The redness of my handprint against her skin would look wonderful.

Harry moaned, now using his left hand to cradle his balls, rolling them between his fingers, as he stroked his cock with his right.  He spread his legs, bending his right at the knee for leverage.

Parvati would look best against white sheets.  Sometimes I imagine her with Padma, but not often.  But damp with sweat, her hair stuck to her cheek, she would moan my name and make me want to fuck her harder.  She’d writhe underneath me, gripping my cock with her pussy, her legs wrapped around my waist, the contrast of my white hands against her dark skin... all of it would almost be too much.

Harry tugged his balls to prevent himself from coming.  Sweat stung his left eye.  He briefly released his cock and wiped his brow.  The lotion he’d conjured earlier was nearly gone and the friction was becoming uncomfortable, so he quickly grabbed his wand and conjured more.

He knew he was close, but there was one image he hadn’t brought to mind yet.  Smiling to himself, he gathered some of the lotion with his left hand and reached further down, toying with his own arse.  He rubbed the pucker for a moment, and then slipped his middle finger inside.

His balls tightened as he stroked his cock with his right hand, grip tighter than before, smearing pre-come down the shaft.

Ron would groan as he sank his cock into Hermione while I fuck him, enjoying being the middle of that sandwich.  Hermione would meet my eyes over his shoulder and grin before raking her fingernails down his back, the red trails vivid against his pale skin.  He would fuck her while I fucked him knowing I had come inside her first while he watched and stroked his own cock.  I would grab Ron’s hips, gripping them tightly enough to bruise, and come in his arse.

Harry groaned deeply, quickly stroking his cock to milk every bit of come from it as his orgasm overcame him.  A series of grunts and sighs accompanied each spurt onto his hand and stomach.

With the last wave, he pulled his finger from his arse, dropping his left arm to his side.  He slid down the bed, sweat-soaked and completely relaxed for the first time in days.

He was nearly asleep when the door creaked open.  Realizing he was a debauched mess, he grabbed his wand, using it to close the curtains on his bed before casting cleaning charms on himself and the sheets.  He then curled on his side, pulled a sheet over himself and feigned sleep.

“Damn, he’s asleep,” Ron said, not bothering to whisper.

“In the morning, Ron,” Hermione said softly.  “We’ll invite him in the morning.”

Harry heard the curtains close and grinned.  He couldn’t wait for morning.