Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be
Dedication: To…. Helena, who makes me feel needed.
Forbidden
I sit in the Common Room, the sounds of Scottish mignight playing outside the window, the rustle of the wind in the trees, the sound of animals, the sound of all those natural sounds. Then there's the sound of humans. The slow deep breathing of some, the sleep murmuring of others.
Why do I sit here, at midnight, in the Gryffindor Common Room? Because it's private, and yet not. This is where I wank, and I'm not ashamed of that fact at all. I can feel you asking why here, in a public place? Why not in the bathroom, or a magically silenced four-poster bed? Because here, there's always a chance I'll get caught. Always a chance that I'll be found. That's what makes the experience all the more exhilarating, because it's almost forbidden.
I've always been fascinated by the forbidden, the things I can't do. Can't be sorted into Gryffindor. Can't befriend muggles. Can't become an Animagus. Can't be gay… I adore the mystery that surrounds the forbidden. The what if. But I don't just ask, I find out. I am what I want to be, I do what I want to do.
Which brings me back here. The Common Room. Wanking. It's a habit I developed last year, sixth year, when I played a nasty trick and spent one and a half months sleeping on a sofa that's not so comfortable when slept on. I may have been paying penance, but I'm still a teenage boy, so out of necessity more than most else, I started. Then I heard footsteps, so I had to finish myself off, very quickly, and pretend I was sleeping. It's invigorating.
So tonight, I came back down here, to revisit the forbidden. I finish, murmuring a name I hope no-one ever knows I murmur. "Moony…"
Tonight, he didn't hear my footsteps, carried on in his own little world. Tonight, I made myself known. I clear my throat softly and whisper "Sirius…"
Forgive for the crappiness, I was in a writing mood so here it is.