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In the Crosshairs (Explicit Version)

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Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction written for personal enjoyment and entertainment. Harry Potter, its character, and its respective elements are the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling.

Disclaimer II: This fanfiction includes some minor elements from another fanfiction, When Things Start to Change , as that was the inspiration to the prequel to this story.

This story is an AU ending to the series, as it was started before the release of OotP, it treats as canon books one through four (SS/PS, CoS, PoA, & GoF); some character, spells, and other elements are taken from OotP, HBP, and DH. Differences from those later books will become apparent. It is the sequel to my first fanfic, Red and Green Patches, however, it should be otherwise enjoyable.

This is the adult version. For the cleaner version, see–the–Crosshairs

Summary: Death Eaters strike BACK! Order of the Phoenix is declared a terrorist organization. Can Harry and his friends survive the viscous onslaught of slander, frameups, death, and destruction? Can they even hope to fight it? Post–GoF 6th & 7th year R/Hr, Rated R for LSNVD

In the Crosshairs

“Every guest in this Hall,” said Dumbledore, and his eyes lingered upon the Durmstrang students, “Will be welcomed back here at any time, should they wish to come. I say to you all, once again—in light of Lord Voldemort’s return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided. Lord Voldemort’s gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can only fight it by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open.” [ GoF, Ch37 ]

Upon the stone dais, without benefit of support, stood a stone arch; an arch, from which, was draped the Veil of Death, within the Department of Mysteries, in the basement of the Ministry for Magic. An unnatural invisible smoke, a smoke that any living soul would feel like fingernails scraping across a chalkboard, a smoke that offended every hair in the nostrils, drifted upward from the curtain, for beneath it, perched on the edge of death, was a simmering cauldron over black flame. Floating in the foul smelling and boiling goo were a pair of gray eyes, both blinking and staring at a naked Hermione, as if pleading for a life fleeting away. Hermione, bound, gagged, dripping droplets of pee between her legs, and tied to a stone column, only gave a look of scorn, of judgment against those eyes, before moving her eyes away. Also bound and naked, beside Hermione, was her best living friend, love interest to another good friend, Gia, who paid no attention to the eyes in the cauldron, but instead, at the snake like red eyes of the figure beside the cauldron, the one scooping out the green acid–like substance into a goblet. He swirled the cup.

“Behold!” Voldemort exclaimed, “The Elixir of Immortality!”

Two years earlier…

It started innocently in the hot summer after their fifth year, when Harry had decided to skip returning to the Dursleys. Instead, Harry would tap his inheritance and treat his friends to a trip across Europe to Romania.

With the heat of the day already brewing, we start on this Monday morning on the first of July in the county of Devon, outside the village of St. Ottery, at a dilapidated and impossible building of the Burrow. Outside this building, Crookshanks chased a rat around the pond. Smoke billowed out of the kitchen window instead of the chimney; an open window framed Fred’s blackened, soot covered, face, darker than his bare chest. Bees buzzed as they went among the flowers and foliage of the garden. Gnomes frolicked in the garden. Dressed in emerald green robes, Professor McGonagall apparated and approached the front door.

In the uppermost bedroom below the attic, four teenagers were asleep on the pair of beds. A glow illuminated the bedroom in spite of the best efforts of the faded Chudley Canons curtains to shield the occupants. The sun was already in the sky and threatened to pass them by, while a breeze through the open window rustled the curtains. Rays of light reached inside, their tendrils hit the occasional metal and shimmered. Pigwidgeon’s cage was empty as the bird paid more attention to the start of the day than the teenagers. On one bed were Ron and Hermione; the other was Harry and Gia, a Muggle girl with long blonde hair who was also Harry’s girlfriend. 1

An uncomfortable tug, and Ron cracked his eyes open first. Naked and on the bed, he pulled the sheet from Hermione, she was leaning on him from his left, and covered them both. His firm tent pole remained even though Hermione’s fidgeting hand kept grabbing at his red curly pubic hair. Nipples on her breasts pushed against his arm, her fingers brushed against his erection beneath the sheet.

Snorts and moans came from the other bed in the room; as that couple turned, dragging their white sheet cover, until only Harry’s left leg was left to the imagination and Gia was behind him, as they too were naked. Harry’s teeth chattered as he peed and drenched the bottom sheet, her left arm moved over his shoulder, her fingers stroked his ear, and he calmed down. Above them, the rays of the early morning sun helped the myriad of Chudley Canons posters continue in their fading, though one formed a rainbow through the spray from Harry’s piss.

Creaks from the door, and it opened, rapidly, revealing Ginny, naked with her wet red hair and a towel in her hands that did nothing to hide her pussy shaved of any hair. A quick glance at Harry and study of his soft todger, before Ginny’s eyes met Ron’s staring back.

Ron didn’t need to read minds to figure his sister out; his sheet failed to hide his form, no shred guess required after Rita Skeeter’s photograph, the one of Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Gia all skinny dipping in a hot tub that made the Daily Prophet days earlier. Ron caught Ginny’s eyes drifting toward Harry with the soft dripping penis dangling to the side from the dark black pubic hair.

“Twat—” Ron started.

“Dickhead—” Ginny replied.

Hermione snorted, twitched, and rolled over; her moving hand caught the sheet, pulled it off Ron.

Ginny’s breasts beside the hard shaft, Ron propped himself up a bit on his elbows, her eyes on him. Not eager to share his sexual prowess with his sister; aware she’s seeing every detail, from his hairy scrotum over his testicles, the ridge on the under side of his stiff shaft, and the bit of clear liquid of the slit that wasn’t ever quite covered by his foreskin. A grin spread across Ginny’s face, a grin Ron didn’t like.

“Bug off—no butchers—” Ron said.

“Dishy bollocks—” Ginny’s eyes darted at Harry’s loose todger before they returned to Ron.

“Not of your concern,” Ron said, as he grabbed his dirty off–white worn boxers of the previous evening, rich with a brown stain, “Scram—” He threw them at Ginny.

“Banging bobby!” Ginny dashed in, tripped to the floor, her eyes locked onto Harry’s stiffening penis, the erection springing out fast.

“You’ll pay!” Ron threatened, “We’re trying to sleep—fuck off you gormy—”

“It’s time to—” In a quick action, Ginny snapped her towel, hitting Ron in the bollocks. Pain.

“Ow!” A quick recoil and Ron sprang up. He held his bruised bollocks under his stiffy, darted as fast as he could after Ginny. “Beastly arse—you’re dead!”

Anger fed the desire of revenge, Ron used his hands against the walls, leapt stairs after stairs, his hard dick swaying, as he chased Ginny.

“He’s coming!” Ginny shouted.

“What—?!” Ron stammered as he came out into the living room.


Despite the floating spot from the bright flash of light, the entire room came into focus faster than Ron could respond.

“I was hoping for Harry,” Colin said, his camera sank down from his bare chest toward the elastic of his white briefs.

Professor McGonagall, turned from Arthur Weasley in his pin strip suit, toward Ron. Ron caught the fleeting struggle of her eyes, where she seemingly fought to balance etiquette with curiosity. Her eyes flickered across his pink skin and Ron’s eyes went down with her gaze. Clear that her curiosity had taken control to examine the fully primed teenager, the eyes ensnared by the rock hard erection that jutted outward from Ron’s fluffy golden rod pubic hair, the deep pink glans escaping the foreskin, the seeping slit clear he was not in control as his faithful wingmen dangled loose. A fight to suppress the grin, and her wits reconquered her eyes to force them up the trail of pubic hair up to his navel before skirting across the bare chest, to a face that Ron was certain was blushing with the embarrassment and his brilliant blue eyes were trembling.

“Showing your talent off?” Fred whispered at Ron.

With his rock hard erection on display at the center of attention, only Ron caught Fred’s grin on the ashen face, or Fred’s bathrobe opening to show ashen skin along with a fringe of pubic hair, open far enough for a wand tip to come out next to the hip, a wand aimed at Ron as Fred muttered. A tremor came to Ron’s hard shaft as all eyes converged to stare. Colin’s camera snapped back up to the face, aimed as the relaxing spasms and urges traveled through Ron’s shank of flesh. Any thoughts of counter curses only fueled the urgency to perform, as Ron knew it was about to perform as the magic ensured it would. An eternity passed for Ron, defying his desire to get it over with, but fast enough to be paralyzed from any other recourse as he felt his boyish magma swell and surge along his column as it raced for the tip, white appeared in his slit.


His lava passed the exit, the jet of beaded white started to bead out.


Pictures kept flowing into the camera as the magical pressure forced Ron’s filament of pearly white juice to squirt out.


Encouraged to go the distance, his dick obliged the spectators as it sent out the first and long shot of semen; the off–white string leapt across the yard and half needed to cling onto the billowing green robes of Professor McGonagall.


Quivering continued over Ron’s objections, albeit with less force, his orgasm continued and his ejaculation flowed.


His second surge traveled the foot needed to soak onto her hand, one that had griped a wand.


Ron was certain the professor thought she was helping, however figured Fred had out–charmed her. Instead of calming down, the magic redoubled its effort, and another hard quench. Eyes kept on Ron’s deep pink glans, at the off–white that kept pouring out his slit, with magic that forced every bit of his sperm out, exaggerated the amount, and joined every bit into a parade for the show. Magic kept finding more to send out, though began to struggle, as the flow tapered off to become a stream that kept its dribble and waterfall of of his slit. While Ron’s scrotum contracted slightly, he felt the softer and more intricate skin, a pendulum clung from his slit along with a bit of an ooze.


Ron caught her eyes, ones that finally submitted to Gryffindor courtesy to distract attention from his drooling penis.

“The Hogwarts Board of Governors has elected to reward your efforts in freeing the school at the end of last term, please extend their gratitude to your friends,” Professor McGonagall said, “I have given your father the details of their generosity. I will look forward to seeing you in the fall.”

Professor McGonagall turned around and went out the door.

“Oh,” George said, with only a sweat soaked Weird Sisters T–shirt that was too small to hide anything below his naval, “She’ll definitely look forward to seeing you after this display—” He gripped shook flaccid penis beneath his pubic hair.

“With whatever dignity he’s got left,” Ginny said, grinning.

Embarrassment made for retreat, and Ron turned around for the stairs.

“Get his arse!” Ginny exclaimed.

Dew clung to the tip of his softening dick, and the slit dribbled enough to keep the strand long. His desire to leave stronger than the urge to clean, Ron ran for the stairs, and the pendulum swung.


“Ginevra—” Arthur said.

“Family photographs,” Ginny said as she feigned a tone of innocence.

Ron climbed the stairs, mad at her, of what his sister had done to him. Tricked him, hardest erection ever and spewing in front of Professor McGonagall—of all people! It wasn’t something he wanted to share to everybody, and definitely not with Colin there taking a hundred pictures.

“Hi,” Hermione said as Ron entered his bedroom.

Ron closed the door, and slid with his back against it until his butt was on the ill–fitting floorboards with bits in the cracks and legs spread, his knees in the air. He glanced at the friendly faces in the room, not enough to dispel the hatred of Ginny, though enough to keep from killing her.

Hermione, sitting on the edge of the bed, with her busy brown hair, the brown blinking eyes, modest tits, the firm midriff, and the hair covered folds around her vagina denoting her femininity. He watched her fingers make little circles within the gap, took enough steam to keep the assassin at bay.

Gia, still laying on the bed, head turned to show her blue eyes beneath her blond hair, her voluptuous knockers with their erect nipples into the air.

“Exciting?” Harry muttered as he sat back on the edge of the bed, he leaned against Gia, and his lower back cushioned itself with her breast.

Ron glared at Harry, not worried about Gia, as Harry’s scrawny figure whose skin was too tight for his bones, could readily support it. Harry’s soft todger dangled loose, fighting a competition to the floor with the loose scrotum behind it, draped as far as they could from the wild jet black pubic hair. Instead, Ron focused on those green eyes.

“Shove it!” Ron snapped before he felt the second wave from the curse combined with the ignored morning rush. “That git…”

Ron glanced at the cracks of the floorboards, wide enough to make out her bed below him, ones that’d show Ginny in the light he’d rather not see. Ron’s left fingers retracted his foreskin as the thought came to him; knew the sudden pink attracted their attention. Harry, Hermione, and Gia were safe to him, alright to do this in front of them. A short squirt of yellow liquid shot out.

“Ron!” Hermione snapped.

“His room,” Harry said.

Ron wasn’t certain if Harry quite understood the anger, however, the permission felt good, and better this than murder. Ron aimed as his morning rush started, only the edges of his yellow stream hit the floorboards, the rest drained through onto the bed below.

“You did ran after her like that,” Hermione said, “What’d you expect?”

“Cameras? Fred or George? McGonagall? Dad?” Ron said as his loose penis spurted and squirted out more piss, “Can’t believe—”

“I’d like a copy of those snaps,” Hermione said as she sat next to Ron. She cupped his scrotum.

“What—?!” Ron exclaimed.

“Wank for them?” Harry asked.

“He already did,” Hermione said as she felt Ron’s bollocks.

“You camp,” Ron snapped.

“Likely thinking about McGonagall—” Harry said.

Ron snorted. “No way! She was appreciative about our last adventure.” Elbows to the knees, he looked down. “Mum won’t find out, she can’t—” A flash of light in Ron’s mind, the fresh memory of the killing curse striking her.2

“Being dead…” Harry stopped as fast as he started.

While Ron figured Harry was trying to be sensitive, It wasn’t fast enough to thwart lowering her into the grave in Ron. Instead, Ron glared at Harry, their eyes locked together, and Harry wanting to apologize. However, their glare only came to a stop as leopard spots formed and danced on Harry’s skin.

“Hmm,” Gia said as her hands wrapped around from behind Harry, massaged into his loin below his boyish creases, “I could dig this.”

“Went on the pull ‘arry and—” Ron said as Harry’s dick firmed up fast.

“Watch it,” Hermione said, “She’s my friend too, so don’t demean Harry’s girlfriend—”

“Or what?!” Ron demanded.

“Hey shirty,” Gia said, “Hermione’ll likely stop being yours. Swot your stuff if you need to understand what you’d be wanking solo.”

“What’d ya think?” Ron said, “Mr. and Mrs. Founders of your stupid unofficial fan club trying to get your signed starkers photograph along with your perspective on shagging—that twerp diddled her boyfriend onto me!”

Ron blew off.

“We do need to get moving.” Gia grabbed Harry’s bum.

Harry groaned and moved. Gia sat up.

“One at a time for the khazi,” Ron said.

“That’s your Mum’s—” Hermione said.

“She may be dead,” Ron said, “But this is still her house—we need to abide.”

“Never cared before—” Harry said.

“I do now,” Ron stated. It strangely mattered to Ron.

Harry gave Gia a nudge; she grabbed a towel, waited for Ron to move aside, and went out. Ron pushed to get up.

“They’re already—” Hermione started.

“It’s going to blow—” Ron said as he gripped his buttocks as he felt the urgency.

“You expect the khazi—” Hermione asked as she moved to the side.

“Rather I do it in here?” Ron stated as he went out the door.

Ron went one floor down, through the partially shuttered door, into the pink bedroom; past the miniature model of Harry on a broom in front of the dragon at the first task for the Triwizard cup. Wind nearly closed the door, and it bore the poster with close up shot of Harry’s face, a face that beamed back. Ron leaned forward and crouched over Ginny’s spare cauldron.


Though Hermione kept the door partially open, her eyes caught Ron entering Ginny’s bedroom beneath her. She watched him lean over the cauldron and heard the gas pass. Brown slipped out from between Ron’s buttocks, drop into the cauldron.

Immature! Hermione shook her head as Ron continued, realized it was less private than Waterloo!

“May I?”

Hermione glanced up, George with his soaked white Weird Sisters T–shirt, paused at the landing, his eyes on hers through the partially open door.

“Losing cause, I suppose,” Hermione said as she reached and opened the door.

“Privacy here is an illusion,” George said as he entered.

George closed the door, his loose scrotum above and in front of her, and he stepped back to lean against the dresser. George crossed his legs, but his genitals remained in front of her, the crossing merely raised them a bit toward her, and the shirt even failed to hide his naval. She studied the the penis for a moment, it bore a strong resemblance to Ron’s. George’s fingers adjusted his scrotum.

“Ron and Harry—” Hermione started to warn from her sitting position.

George snorted, his finger combed through his curly red pubic hair. He pulled on several strands and straightened them out.

“Although we joke about it,” George said, “You’re family—any Weasley lying causes the penis to go blue—”

Hermione snorted.

“It’s true—it’s much harder to lie with the dick exposed,” George said as he grabbed a ruler from the top of the dresser, “As you can tell, it’s definitely not a foot long.”

Hermione laughed as George placed a ruler alongside his penis, which showed it to be less than three inches; his loose scrotum allowed his bollocks to dangle at four.

“Anyways,” George said, “I was hoping to apologize to Ronald, we did sort of go overboard—”

“Did Professor McGonagall—” Hermione started.

“Yep,” George said as he nodded, “Full discharge with a sample.”

“No wonder Ron’s peeved,” Hermione said. She glanced back down, at Ron straining for a bit more.

“Not that it wasn’t hilarious to watch,” George said, “Ginny figured you sleeping starkers and wanted to lure Harry for a picture—I think she still has a crush—Ron came instead and Fred—need I say more?”

Hermione laughed.

“I’ll extort a copy of those pictures from Colin,” George said, “Not sure if Ginny was joking about making the cutoff for Witch Weekly or not.”

“I’d like them,” Hermione said, figuring it better to get them now and never use them.

George turned for his door, his penis dangled between his legs beneath the two buttocks. He cracked the door open before he turned back around.

“Oh,” George said, “It is clothing optional.”

“Really?” Hermione asked, not believing that Mrs. Weasley would have tolerated this.

“Well,” George said, “Mum didn’t exactly object to Fred’s declaration this morning—safer to be naked when experimenting.”

“Of course,” Hermione said.

Her eyes focused on the foreskin beginning to retract, the pink glans slipped out as the soft todger began to ratchet outward and upward toward her. George’s hand slipped to hold her shoulder as the penis elongated and stiffened, his balls loose beneath.

“You’re a beautiful witch—” George started.

A hand gripped George’s shoulder and he began to tumble backward. Ron came to view as his arm continued on the pull, before it became a shove.

“You!” Ron stammered as his other hand came to shove; George fell backward as Ron entered the bedroom.

Ron closed the door.

“Ron!” Hermione snapped.

“Lemme see.” Ron rested his chin on the fist he raised to it. “Compliments while his todger—”

“He was explaining—” Hermione said as she stood.

“Really?!” Ron leaned forward against the ledge in front of the window, his pubic hair soaked in the sunshine as his balls dangled over the edge, and let the garden gnomes study his freely hanging soft dick. “He’s fed other girls the same codswallop.”

“He wasn’t coming onto me,” Hermione wrapped her arms from behind him.

Her nipples pressed into his back as she felt the warm testicles loosen in the scrotum.

“He’s good,” Ron said, “I’m not letting him assault you—you’re better than that.”

“He mentioned clothing optional…” she stopped as she felt the tension in him.

“Mum couldn’t afford—I mean wasn’t fond of cooling charms,” Ron said, “On hot days, she tolerated—I mean let us be a bit free spirited—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Hermione said as her hands combed Ron’s pubic hair.

“Malfoy’s right, too many mouths to feed,” Ron said.

“You’re listening to him?” Hermione asked as her fingers twiddled his dangling todger, “Took your time earlier—”

“Whatever Fred’s charm was—” Ron smiled. “Let’s just say it was effective, best dump ever.”

Hermione understood the harmless boast. Her hand curled around his soft sausage, pumped, and watched it firm up in the sunshine of the open window. Smells of bacon wafted inward.

“Fred knew his curse,” Ron said, “It’s a bit dry—”

“Pity,” Hermione said as her hand let go of his hard cock.

“Penises only get one shot at a time.” Harry finished entering, Gia behind him. “Though a second attempt is welcome.”

Hermione snorted.

“Get him eat?” Gia asked.

“Yeah,” Ron said.

“We’ll be down later,” Gia said.

Harry and Ron left the bedroom.

“Admit it,” Gia said, “You don’t want them to dress.”

Hermione shook her head; Gia laughed. It was the truth, both boys were better without a thing on.

Meanwhile, Ginny laid where she always laid after being yelled at, on the landing of the stairs, the one right above the ceiling of the living room. A good choice, her brothers always took care to step around her, and conversations she wasn’t supposed to hear had a knack of softening up the hardness of the pathetically carpeted wood. Her fingers massaged the vulva to the vibrations as she listened to the snickers and laughter above, knew that Harry was having fun—felt unfair, Mum had promised Harry to her.

As the smell of bacon filled her nostrils, she knew there was no need for shouting up the stairs, they’d get the hint any moment. A desire and the wood above did their dance, supported Harry as he stepped out of Ron’s bedroom, but stayed apart enough for her to get a good glance, the best look of him she’s ever had. Better than the briefs of prior years, Harry had outdone himself—clearly unable to wick the heat away fast enough, he was coming down starkers. She watched those balls sway freely from below him, dangle toward her between his legs, the soft penis saddled alongside.

Ginny knew she had seconds, as she slipped her finger between her folds, pressed on the magic finger vibrator, a gift from Fred as she was field testing it for them.

“We’ll be back to her place tonight,” Harry said as he came down slowly.

“With you buying!” Ron snapped.

“Belt it,” Harry said as he stopped, almost right above Ginny.

Ginny’s seen Ron many times, however, this is Harry above her. She blew, and Harry’s dick stiffened slightly to move away from his balls. She glanced at the dark jet black pubic hair above, wondered what Fred’s curse was. Instead, she simply hoped Ron would be Ron.

“Your fucking inheritance—!” Ron exclaimed.

“And I’d trade it all—friends and family are better than all the vaults in Gringotts!” Harry said.

Ginny started to talk, to let Harry know it was alright to wank, when she felt the silencing charm of the vibrator kick in. Instead, she had to focus on the slit on the half–retracted foreskin, the pink glans squeezed a bit out, the ridge of his penis, and the round balls. Desire and lust kicked in, imagined those two oblong lumps, more tantalizing than marshmallows, ones that could’ve been hers if her Mum had survived to demonstrate the traditional family love potion required to snare him, her Mum had promised this would be the summer for that, but her Mum wasn’t there anymore.

“You’ve never been broke,” Ron snapped.

“You’re richer than I’ll ever be—thanks for sharing,” Harry said before he glanced down, “Missed a spot.”

Harry licked his finger, his dick stiffened as he rubbed his glans above her. Ginny studied it, the two shoulders to his glans converging together on the underside of Harry’s todger, with a bead of clear juice on the slit.

“Dropped something,” Ron said.

Harry crouched, straddled Ginny’s head. Inches above her, Harry’s hard cock loitered, every detail, his balls nearly on her forehead. A golden jet poured out, pungent as it sprayed hard and fast, landed between Ginny’s breasts as she felt the contractions. From her vulva, the yellow fountain rose, arched over, mixed with Harry’s gold. Wave after wave of pleasure, Ginny focused on those two balls dangling above her. She knew she’d die happy if death took her at that moment.

“What?” Harry asked.

“Why you doing that?” Ron asked.

“Dunno,” Harry said, still squatting, now shaking his softening hard dick.

Harry stood, and Ginny realized the ensnarement of the charm was broken. She watched both buttocks flex, Harry’s dick dangled between the legs, as he went down the stairs with Ron. Ginny already had the words for the review she’ll have to give Fred.

Magical Finger Vibrator, needs to be studied more and should be modified to actually get the object of desire to become a full participant. Still, successfully hides the user.

Ginny smeared the piss on her — it was her home, even a shabby carpet’s more miserable when peed on.

Charlie rustled the previous day’s The Daily Prophet with the front page article Students Rid Hogwarts of Dark squatters , laid it out on the kitchen table.

“Table of breakfast!” exclaimed Dobby.

“Dad!” Charlie exclaimed, “How much longer—?”

“You know he’s on loan for the summer,” Fred said from the kitchen sink, “A sympathy from the Headmaster after Mum—”

Charlie already knew. The Headmaster’s excusing Dobby to help was a condolence, a way of helping them cope with the sudden and tragic loss of their matriarch, Molly Weasley.


Smoke billowed from the sink, and Fred smirked. Charlie, though, glanced at Fred’s bare buttocks, the testicles grew as they dropped fast until they hung at the size of tennis balls near Fred’s ankles. Charlie was uncertain to how long he could withstand the heat in his own boxers.

“Careful!” Charlie said.

“Wicked,” Fred said, “Gonna have to record that one!”

“Don’t blow them off,” Charlie said.

“Just a moment,” Fred said as he grabbed his wand.

Charlie didn’t ask, the motions on Fred’s hard dick obvious.

“Morning,” Harry said as he entered the kitchen, Ron with him. Both naked and sweat already on their skin.

“It’s working!” Fred said.

Charlie glanced, obvious from the placement of the beaker how Fred was filling it up as the testicles returned back to normal.

“Where’s the food?” Ron asked.

Harry adjusted his glasses as he stood to the other side of the table. Ron sat down.

“In a moment,” Charlie said as a stack cauldron cakes appeared in front of Ron.

Charlie glanced at the bottle green eyes that scanned the paper. Charlie appreciated his habit of wearing boxers in the Burrow, ones that concealed the growing sausage as he studied Harry’s genitals that dangled a couple feet in front of him. Charlie appreciated Ginny’s desire in them, and now they were there. Loose and long, the penis hung across the table, the exposed tip out of the uncut tip hinted at the fresh urination, a slight bend rightward, but thinner than a Weasley. Harry’s left testicle dangled looser and lower than the right, rested on the table. Thick and dark, the black pubic hair enticed Charlie, but Weasleys were made of stronger stuff. Charlie decided he had to be content with the dry spasm in his own erection, understood the excitement as he tried to memorize the vein pattern in Harry’s foreskin and on the shaft. A droplet of sweat dripped from Harry’s foreskin.

“At least you’ll be able to properly floss with your curly—” Fred said to Ron, as he pulled on his pubics.

“Shove it,” Ron said, “Like you’re up to anything good—”

“I don’t hear Mum complaining,” Fred said.

Harry snorted as he sat down. Charlie bent over, checked, and noticed Harry’s bollocks dangling off the edge of the chair.”

“That’s because she can’t,” Charlie said as he straightened back up.

“Dickhead had something to do—” Fred said.

“It’s not his fault,” Charlie said, “Impressive what they accomplished, single handedly vanquishing You–Know–Who and lot from Hogwarts—”

“Where’s George?” Ron asked.

“Getting ready to prank your room,” Fred said, smiling as he visibly massaged his dick into an erection.

Ron glared.

“Pass the syrup,” Harry said.

It flew down the table into Harry’s hand.

“Dobby happy to serve Harry Potter. Dobby hopes Harry Potter is pleased with meal.”

“Yeah, Ta,” Harry said.

Dobby vanished.

“Mum dies and you take off—” Ginny exclaimed as she came into the kitchen.

Charlie heard it, the vibration, of his sister standing next to him, on her tippy toes, keeping her crotch at Harry’s eye level. No hiding her intent.

Harry glanced at her approaching, before she stood next to Charlie. She rested one foot on Charlie’s seat, the effect of giving a parting to the freshly shaved and waxed labia on the other side of the table. No trace of pubic hair could be seen, none that would match the long flowing hair that reached down past her shoulders. Harry turned to the sausage, found it weird but satisfying to eat, and dipped the patty into the syrup.

“Haven’t you done enough—?!” Ron demanded.

“Family comes—” Ginny said.

“Shove it!” Ron snapped.

A hum and Harry glanced at Ginny’s open vulva, inside a bit of black with Vib on it, and Harry understood it, a vibrator inside. It explained Ginny’s smile, the big one that hinted to the vibrations within her.

“Ronald Weasley,” Arthur said as he came the kitchen, “Mind your manners!”

Ginny crossed her arms over her breasts, her ears went green, and her face went red. She glared at Ron.

“This is family,” Arthur said, “However, if Ron wishes to spend his summer like this, that’s his decision to make.”

“You have to excuse her Ron,” Fred said as he made a masturbatory stroke of his dick, “She wanted more pictures—”

“Definitely not!” Ron exclaimed.

“Stay safe on the trip,” Arthur said, “All of you.”

“Thank you Mr. Weasley,” Harry said.

A cry and Arthur Weasley rushed back to the living room, where he was keeping an eye on Edward Weasley, the latest addition, born to Molly and Arthur back in April. In the meanwhile, Fred jumped back from the sink.

“Trouble?” Ginny asked.

“See for yourself,” Fred said, grinning.

Ginny turned the tap and fell back. Out of the faucet, streams of butterflies flew out, they swarmed and filled up the room.

“Hello Mr. Finnigan,” came Arthur’s voice, “Come on in.”

Harry leaned back in the chair as Ginny sat on the table, her vulva aimed at Harry. Colin, in his bare chest and white briefs, pulled Ginny to lay down on it. Harry, though, turned his head to Seamus Finnigan walking through the front door.

“I’ll pretend,” Colin whispered to Ginny.

Harry stood, faced the brown haired boy with his loose yellow T–shirt that billowed over a tight pair of red briefs. Eyes of Seamus glanced at the crops of red and black pubic hair over the dangling loose todgers.

“Late morning, eh?” Seamus said as he approached Harry and Ron.

“Why should they stress themselves out?” Ginny asked.

“Happy couple,” Seamus said, his eyes darted to Colin teasing Ginny on the table.

“Especially when they’re ambushing others,” Ron said.

Seamus snorted and glanced about.

“There is plenty of room,” Charlie said, the newspaper in his hands as he stood there, his eyes darted toward the crotch bulge of Seamus’ briefs, “And even more outside.”

“I’m already hot,” Seamus said.

Harry grabbed his cup of water, stood next to Seamus, and poured it over Seamus’ head. Seamus fidgeted for a moment before he reached his arms over and pulled off his shirt.

“Better?” Harry asked.

“Mind?” Seamus tugged at the hem of his briefs.

“You’re asking me?” Charlie said, tip of his erection peeking out of the boxers, “Do mind the heat though.”

“Your choice,” Harry said as he went for the door.

Seamus’ hands fidgeted with the elastic.

“Unless you visited just to whine about the heat—” Charlie started.

“Alright.” Seamus dropped his briefs, blushed as his circumcised dick was now exposed beneath the brown pubic hair.

“Handsome,” Charlie remarked.

“Outside,” Ron said.

Seamus followed Harry and Ron out of the Burrow.

“Suppose this figures,” Seamus said, “After the Daily Prophet caught your backside—”

Ron snorted.

“Any advice for us poorer bastards?” Seamus said, “Dean is absolutely livid. Suppose Professor McGonagall came to see you about OWLs—”

“She saw a bit more of Ron,” Harry said, his hand pulled on his own dick.

“Shut it!” Ron said, “I’ll kill—”

“How does Hermione like your double dating—” Seamus asked.

“We already have full OWLs!” Ron proclaimed.

“What—?!” Seamus exclaimed.

“We tested after the little affair…” Harry said.

“Bit campy—” Seamus said, doing a slow stroke of his erection.

Ron tackled Seamus, both falling into the mud of the pond.

“Sto—” Harry started.

Seamus grabbed Harry’s ankle, Harry fell in onto them. Harry peed across Seamus’ chest. Ron mudded up Harry’s butt crack.

“Trying a return?” Seamus asked.

“Payback,” Harry said as he muddied up Seamus’ genitals, covering them. A circumcised erection slithered out, escaped the mud, and left Seamus hard.

“Hold him,” Ron said as he squatted over Seamus’ face.

“No, no!” Seamus exclaimed as sludge moved out of Ron’s ass, pooping.

“He likes it,” Harry said as he massaged the fulcrum of Seamus’ cock.

“No I don’t,” Seamus said as his dick sputtered out its first volley, the white of the orgasm, spewing out semen.

“Yes he does,” Ron said.

“Disgusting,” Seamus said, “Harry’s next!”

Ron moved, pinned Harry to the ground as Seamus bared the anus. They kept doing their ones and twos, until they were covered in mud and sitting in the green muck on the shore of the pond. A bit later, after even more talking, Seamus stood.

“I would’ve loved to see Snape’s face with your Order of Merlin, First Class,” Seamus said. He then left.

Harry and Ron returned to the Burrow, where Gia met them both with a hose.

“Time to get you decent,” Gia said as the cold water poured across Harry.

Harry giggled, let the mud join with the water and drip to the ground outside the burrow.

1 Harry’s and Gia’s relationship was solidified in the prequel; she’s a muggle and a childhood friend of Hermione’s.
2 This is pre–ootp, remember? At the time, there was a rumor, and Mrs. Weasley was my guess to the fan who died. Even though OotP has been released, I’m sticking with Mrs. Weasley for this story, so Sirius is currently alive.

Chapter Text

Noigate1, a sleepy commuter community south of London where Hermione’s parents lived is also where Hermione called home during her days away from Hogwarts. Inside one of these homes, the four teenagers, two at a time, stepped out of a fireplace, into the living room.

Stifling heat came to Harry as he stood barefoot on the carpet, left foot stains from his sweat.

“No cooling charms?!” Ron asked as he tugged at his faded orange Chudley Canons T–shirt over glistening skin.

Hermione went over to thermostat.

“Stupid power saving—” Hermione muttered.

“Leave it be,” Ron said as he pulled his T–shirt off.

“Owe me,” Gia said to Harry.

Harry adjusted the towel around his waist, the only thing on, and followed Gia. Up the stairs, along the small hall, spacious by British standards, to the small bedroom with his Hogwarts trunk.

“Oh, you’ve got them,” Gia said, reaching down. She handed the open mesh white and yellow to Harry. “Coolest choice today.”

Harry lowered the yellow open mesh jockstrap down, stepped into them, and pulled them up; he dropped the towel as he fitted the narrow mesh front over his dick. Felt the exposure of his buttocks over the strap.

“Bit revealing,” Harry said.

“Looking at your arse?” Gia asked.

“No,” Harry said.

Harry pulled the open mesh white tank top over his head, it stopped above his naval.

“You look handsome,” Gia said.

Harry glanced at the mirror. His hairy arm pits were exposed. Below, the contours and shades of his genitals showed through the open yellow mesh below the wide swath of dark for his pubic hair. He turned to Gia.

“Yes,” Harry said.

Gia had the smallest of bikinis with quarter sized sand dollars of green open mesh that covered the nipples, erect nipples. A strip of conformal mesh covered the vulva, leaving contours that showed the ridges around it. Harry made out the erect clitoris beneath.

“Be cool?” Gia asked.

“Yeah,” Harry snorted.

Harry slipped his feet into sandals, walked with Gia out of the bedroom. Despite the air that slipped through the pours of the mesh, Harry still felt the heat build up as he came down the stairs.

“Going out like that?” Hermione asked.

Harry glanced at the pile of Ron’s clothes, her shirt already off.

“Like these are any more comfortable,” Harry said as he tugged at his jockstrap, “It’s still icky!”

“Need to see my Dad,” Gia said, “We’ll be back some time later.”

Harry and Gia left Hermione’s house; Gia walked to Harry’s right. It was a compact neighborhood with large detached homes, a sign of the status bestowed to doctors, solicitors, wealth and those wishing to be.

“Thank you,” Gia said to Harry.

Harry adjusted his jockstrap, his balls still felt hot despite trying to sink them as low as the mesh would allow.

“Well,” Harry said, “I am claiming you for the summer—way better than returning to the Dursleys.”

“Didn’t they whip you?” Gia asked.

“Uncle Vernon outsourced it,” Harry said.

They took the footpath, slipped between neighborhoods of more well off, before entering the commons. The followed the path over the stream with younger kids playing in the water, glanced at those noticing them.

“They’re noticing,” Harry said.

“Stop to swim?” Gia asked.

“I’m starkers,” Harry said.

“No, it’s as close to starkers as I think we can get away with,” Gia said, “I’m willing to dare with you.”

“It’s your town,” Harry said. He could only imagine doing the same in Little Whinging, though the wrath on Uncle Vernon’s face might be worth it. Still, Harry wanted to be on his best behavior here.

“Your loss,” Gia said.

Harry knew they were lying to themselves, pretending to be wholesome. Every reflection showed the truth, garments that flirted with downright exposure, a waistband of his jockstrap that had already slipped down to let his black pubic hair hang out above it while trapping his penis to the side. On her, the green mesh that’d likely part ways to let her take a piss, very suggestive as it had already slipped a bit to the side, and he could see the bottom half of the pinkish gap.

“Wish you were,” Harry remarked.

Gia adjusted the tiny bra, let the left nipple slip out.

“Better?” Gia asked as they left High Street.

Harry felt the discomfort as the swelling started, He adjusted the mesh a bit, when his partially aroused penis slipped out of a rip in the mesh.

“Bit…” Harry drifted off. He was a bit more comfortable, even with his nearly stiff penis escaping the curtain.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Gia reminded Harry.

Harry glanced at the sweat droplets dripping from the tip of his hard erection. He retracted his foreskin, figured that appeared better, though it made his slit on the pink glans seem to be needing to take a piss.

“Yeah, nothing,” Harry said.

They turned onto James Lane, the street of Gia’s family residence, a lot where a detached house had stood, a house that her father, Kevin Prescott, had inherited from her grandfather otherwise this house would’ve been unaffordable to them. Even though the house was still missing, the birds among the trees seemed to not notice the difference, for the house had been demolished and destroyed by Death Eaters a couple of months earlier in a random attack. In its place was a small tin RV parked in the driveway.

“Only—?!” Gia stammered, “Thought he had more based on the message.” She curled her left fingers around Harry’s stiff shaft.

“Hi Gia,” said a man jogging toward them, and he stopped.

This man, Bob Johnson, was the neighbor across the street. He adjusted the remaining few wisps of his hair to retain the masquerade over near baldness. He leaned over, gripped the knees of the thin gray jogging pants, sweat stains on the armpits of his yellow T–shirt.

“Thought Dad was staying with—” Gia started.

“Had to kick him out,” Bob said, “Another relapse—it endangered us to keep him.”

Harry felt the squeeze of Gia’s hand on his hard dick, one that earned a glance from Bob.

“Not again,” Gia muttered.

“You’d be welcome, though,” Bob said, “Even with your boyfriend.”

A glance of the eyes downward and Harry knew his erection was the center of attention. Gia, though, seemed to understand.

“Going on a trip for the summer,” Gia said, “Might take you up, come school.”

“Just be clean yourselves,” Bob said, “Have fun.”

Bob jogged away.

“Clean?” Harry asked.

“Dad’s drug habit,” Gia said, “He’s been clean for months—think it was Mum’s death that made him spiral out of control for a while, still—brace yourself, Harry.”

Harry and Gia approached the small shaking tin RV.

“Guessing he pacified with the bottle,” Gia said, “Likely fired, again, for it.”

Gia reached for the door and missed, because the door swung hard and fast. In the doorway was Gia’s step–mum, Ane, shaking with a bottle in one hand and a rolled up cigarette in the other. Ane glared fiercely at Gia, when her hand began to move. Harry stepped in front of Gia, between her and Ane, shielding Gia as Ane flicked a burning ember at Gia. This hot ember hit Harry’s left strap of his open mesh white tank top, a brief flame ripped the strap apart, the fire extinguished by his sweat, and his strap fell to leave his nipple exposed.

“Blimey! Another whore?!” Ane shouted as Gia moved to Harry’s right side, “You stink! Fucking accident! Think your Mum even wanted you? Old man wants a bang—”

Ane stumbled, lunged for Gia. Harry moved, his shoulder pushed her to the side as he replaced her spot. Ane grabbed at Harry as she fell, her fingernails snagged his shirt first, pulling it down along with his jockstrap to the ground as she hit the pavement. Harry stood there, naked, with his hard erection loitering above his loose testicles, but below the thick and dark pubic hair.

“Fucking John!” Ane said, “He’s saving you for himself! What’d he offer? Place in the beggar queue?”

A flick of motion, Harry’s and Gia’s attention was drawn into the RV, where her Dad was banging some young meat.

“Come,” Harry said to Gia.

Harry heard the snap as he felt his sandal step onto something, glanced at the broken discarded needle. Harry gripped Gia’s shoulder, turned her away.

“You don’t deserve that,” Harry said, “Let’s go.”

“Can we see Richard first?” Gia asked.

Harry reached down, grabbed his clothes. He used them as a shield in front of him.

“Um…” Harry muttered as they left.

“Just avoid a copper,” Gia said.

“Sorry,” Harry muttered.

“If you weren’t comfortable—” Gia started.

“Giving it a try,” Harry said, “Dunno…exhilarating but a bit of nerves.”


Harry nodded.


Harry snorted.

“You could put those back on,” Gia said.

Harry felt his loose testicles, a bit cooler, a bit more comfortable. He shook his head, as embracing the lurking danger felt more appealing. His dick drooped as it softened a bit against the mesh cloth, seemed better at soaking off the sweat.

“No shame here,” Gia said, “Lets see if we can get in a swim.”

She pulled Harry into a park. Younger kids were playing on the playground, most in their underwear. They stood next to a double wide swing.

“Why bother hiding?”

Harry and Gia turned. Brown haired, modest height, bare chested with plain blue boxer shorts. Harry recognized one of Gia’s classmates, Richard.

“Um—” Harry stuttered, aware the clothes held in his hands were the only thing protecting his modesty.

“Like these did anything!” Gia grabbed those clothes away from Harry’s hands, dropped them to the ground.

A quick flash of anger mellowed to revenge, payback.

“As you’re insisting.” Harry reached for Gia’s bikini top.

“Go ahead,” Gia said, blew him a kiss from her hand.

She smiled as Harry pulled the top, it broke apart as the nipples came out. Her unrestrained breasts loitered there. He placed his hands, one each, on them. Cat calls came as his erection returned, his thumbs on each nipple. He reached down, broke the strings to the bikini bottom, her clitoris and vulva exposed to him, inches away.

Harry did not count the eyes, knew they were on him, as his hard cock wanted to slip into her, there; however, he knew the penalty, it’d trap her into his affairs. He wasn’t ready to commit, to bear responsibility for that, not yet. He noticed her eyes twitch, ones that took in his interest in her, for his stiff erection facing her wasn’t hidden.

“You’re cute and handsome,” Gia said.

“Going domestic?” Richard asked.

“Hey,” Harry snapped as he sat on the swing, “Let’s advertise my stiffy!”

And Harry realized his sarcastic wit had exactly that effect, the myriad of other kids had stopped their own activities, focused on the hard erection between Harry’s legs and his balls freely dangling over the edge of the heavy duty strap of a seat.

“And you avoided health and safety’s on–the–spot penalty for overdressing!” Richard said, “You clearly need to avoid heat stroke.”

Gia snorted, snickered, and sat to Harry’s left on the double wide swing. Her hip against his, her right hand pulled his left leg a bit more open. He moved his right to match, before he realized it was instinct, and that she wanted everybody to see between his legs, to see his stiff hard cock.

“I thought you enjoyed—” Richard started.

“Hiking wasn’t a show!” Harry said as began to pump the swing.

Harry knew what Richard likely referred to, a bit of nude hiking Gia and Harry had experimented with during the spring. And being naked with Gia or his friends wasn’t an issue, it was treasured, making it public bothered Harry.

“I’m fine with this,” Gia said.

Harry’s left hand reached around her back and her long blonde hair, gripped the left rope, while the right hand gripped the right rope. Gia leaned against his left, slouched so her right shoulder was against his arm pit, her left hand joined in gripping the rope, while her right curled around his hard shaft.

“Any coppers?” Gia asked.

Harry understood her massage of his hard dick, what she wanted. Her legs pumped with his, and they swung. Wind reminded Harry of his exposure, while the eyes tracked them, and he hoped to stop before it became an issue. Each pump of the legs, every stroke of her hand, focused his mind away from the small crowd, but onto his hard cock, and her fingers repeatedly slipping his foreskin over the edge of his pink glans.

“Remember my Mum?” Richard said, “Chief Constable? Overheard her—they’ve got orders to not bother with…being skimpy, to avoid the heat–related calls. Dunno how far—?”

“Umm…” Harry realized his todger had accepted Gia’s terms, a copper stood on the sidewalk with a bit of a sideway glance toward them. Harry’s veto ignored, his todger accepting of the attention, and his bollocks in agreement with his erection. Harry lost focus of the eyes that studied his hard shaft, loose scrotum, balls that were in preparation. Feet to the sand, brought them to a stop, his focus had shifted as he yielded his inner animal.

Another squeeze, and a quench, to the grin on the faces that watched as the first long bead of pearly white shout out of his tip. His orgasm sent waves of pleasure through him as she kept up her strokes. More liquid rushed out of his spring, became a bead that flowed out of the slit to cascade down the groove and waterfall off the fulcrum onto the sand beneath them. Harry caught Richard’s glance at the copper moving away.

“Suppose you’ve gotta rape somebody,” Richard said.

“Ta!” Harry stated. He glanced at the small spots where his evidence was being absorbed into the sand.

Richard’s hands grabbed his boxers, kept them from falling.

“Keep it as is,” Gia said, her hand stopped his from wiping his semen coated glans on his softening dick.

“Excuse me, I have to—” Gia started.

“Go ahead,” Harry said as his fingers dropped to her shaved pubic, felt into her vulva. His erection returned, the glans still moist and glazed.

“Um…” Gia said, “I meant—”

“You insisted on sharing me,” Harry said, “So, relax and be the show.”

“Harry!” Gia snapped.

“Only fair,” Harry said, “Relax, just relax.”

His left fingers parted her folds, aware of the audience, while his right massaged above the clitoris.

“Alright!” exclaimed a younger eleven year old boy, crosslegged with his hands on his knees, a stiff shaft pushed from beneath the white cloth of his briefs.

At first, a trickle became a jet, Harry felt Gia calmed down as she peed. Harry caught Richard’s blush, noticed the tough pink glans on a circumcised erection poked out of the front of the boxers. Harry ran his left hand into the golden trail.

“Disgusting,” Richard said.

“You’re interested,” Gia said.

“My place?” Richard asked.

Gia stood up, pulled on Harry.

“Leave that out,” Gia said to Richard.

Richard’s hand stopped, left the circumcised erection remain between the two halves of the cloth of the boxers, remain in the sun.

“Let’s go,” Harry said.

“Bang her!” exclaimed the eleven year old boy.

Richard walked with Harry and Gia, left the park. Gia moved between Richard and Harry; Harry to her left. She wrapped her arms around their backs, pulled them both close. Harry glanced at Richard’s partially stiff dick swaying with the gait.

“Got a good pecker there Richard,” Gia said, “Gonna move on Jen? Have you asked her?”

“Maybe..soon,” Richard said, “Still need to ask.”

“Go over to her place, now,” Gia said, “Let her see you—now.”

Richard’s dick stiffened firm, returned to its erection; while Harry’s softened.

“Maybe—care for another hike, this weekend?” Richard asked.

“We’ve got…plans,” Gia said.

“Bring Jen,” Harry suggested, trying to be nice while the closeness of Gia to Richard’s hard dick irked Harry.

“What plans?” Richard asked.

“A trip, leaving for Europe tomorrow,” Gia said.

“Done with the packing?” Richard asked.

“Not quite,” Gia said.

“We’re packing in the morning,” Harry said, wanting to spend the afternoon with Gia like this.

“I’ve heard that before,” Richard said.

Gia stopped them. She turned to Richard, and her left hand gripped his circumcised hard cock.

“You, go over to Jen’s, right now, and show her this,” Gia said, “Let her set it off.”

“Ta,” Richard said.

Richard turned, his dick slipped out of Gia’s grip, and he walked.

“You—!” Harry glared at Gia.

Gia grabbed Harry’s loose todger, pinned him against the wall.

“He’s my friend,” Gia said, “And boys pay close attention when I hold their dicks, alright?” Her left hand pushed against his bladder. Harry yielded, peed as she turned his dick, she sprayed it against the pavement. “See?”

“He—” Harry started.

“Trust me, Harry,” Gia said, “Trust me like I trust you. Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” Harry said.

“Trust that I’ll play and tease too,” Gia said, “Alright?”

“Sure,” Harry replied.

“Good,” Gia said as she leaned in.

Her lips against Harry’s, they kissed. Her fingers combed through his pubic hair, her nipples pushed against his chest. Harry put his arms around her, pulled close, felt her butt as his tongue touched hers.


Harry wasn’t certain if that was her or him, but he didn’t care, kept it up.


Gia released first, pulled back, her blue eyes on his through the round glasses.

“We do need to get packed,” Gia said, “Won’t be quite as hot, might want to put something on.”

Harry snorted, laughed. They held hands as they walked. With each step, Harry grew in comfort with every glance at them.

“It is better like this,” Harry said.

“Go for a swim later?” Gia said.

“Maybe,” Harry said, “Fair at it.”

“I’ll definitely try out for the swim team again,” Gia said, “When will we get back?”

“Hadn’t really thought that far,” Harry said, “Need to be soon enough to get school supplies.”

They stopped for a light. Gia’s left hand held Harry’s loose testicles beneath his hard erection.

“Very funny,” Harry said.

“It’s fun,” Gia said, a smirk on her face.

A honk from a motorist.

“They agree,” Gia said as the pedestrian light changed.

They began to walk when Gia stopped, held Harry tight with her other arm. They kissed.

“Middle of—” Harry started.

“They know you love me,” Gia said, “What’s the harm in that?”

“Um…” Harry started, he could think of what his enemies would do.

“Try it out, here?” Gia asked.

“Need to pack,” Harry said.

“Changing your mind?” Gia asked.

Gia patted his buttocks, her hands felt his hard dick, before they moved up to the nipples.

“No,” Harry said.


“Let’s get back,” Gia replied.

They continued, went for Hermione’s.

“I know you’ve got issues,” Gia said, “Count on me to push, though.”

Harry snorted as they went onto a path between fences of stone and brush.

“Mean it,” Gia said, “Need to sort those out, fast.”

“Doing what I can,” Harry said as he felt bloated pressure.

“So am I!” Gia said, her fingers tickled Harry’s scrotum.

Harry laughed, jumped to squat on a stone retainer wall, pushed his butt back into the shrub, leaned forward.


“Good day,” Harry said.

“Not mad at me?” Gia asked.

“At first,” Harry said, “Now…” He drifted as the bowel released.

“Somebody might actually complain about that,” Gia said.

Harry understood her concern as his droppings fell through the leaves to the ground beneath the shrub.

“Had to go,” Harry said, “You jerked me in front of…so discreetly fertilizing—”

“Was that fun back there?” Gia asked, her fingers touched his penis as it poured forward, “Watch it!”

“I see it,” Harry said, seeing his gold flow across her fingertips.

“You!” Gia snapped.

Harry grabbed a couple leaves, used them to wipe.

“Let’s go,” Harry said as he jumped back down.

He mulled it over as they walked, realized he is enjoying this, being naked with her, even letting others witness the attraction they see in each other. They definitely needed some time to pack, as the trip wasn’t going to walk itself, and he about to go starkers for it.

“I do like you naked,” Gia said.

“Ta,” Harry said, uncertain to her motive.

They made it back to Hermione’s house, entered, where it was still warm but not searing hot.

“Better,” Gia said.

“Like Ron wanted to dress, so I didn’t turn the thermostat all the way down,” Hermione said as she walked into the living room, starkers, “Dinner’s on the table.”

Harry went over to the dining room, a couple boxes of pizza stacked on it, Ron to one side with a map.

“Totally unnecessary,” Ron said.

“Rather use the fireplace?” Harry said as he sat down next to Ron, “Two months—”

“We’ll walk,” Ron said, “A day or two—great, but family’s really good at a distance.”

“Anything particular you two want in outfits?” Hermione asked, “Or whatever?”

“Ta,” Harry said.

Gia and Hermione went up the stairs.

“Trains is how we’ll do it, mostly,” Harry said, “Waterloo to Dover, take the ferry.”

“Hermione’s made up a list of places she’d like to go,” Ron said.

Ron handed over a sheet of parchment along with a slice of pepperoni pizza. Harry ate the slice, sipped at the soda.

“So you two—?” Ron started.

“Public, like yours this morning,” Harry said, as he gave a fast glance down to Ron’s penis beneath the curly golden red pubic hair. “Didn’t plan on it, at least I didn’t, and she took advantage of the situation. So, yeah—and weird about the copper not caring.”

“Do it again?” Ron asked.

“Kill me if it’s for the Dursleys,” Harry said, “But yeah, it was alright, wouldn’t mind it happening again.”

“They’re up there, the girls,” Ron said, “Likely conspiring—but you can bet Hermione now knows all about it.”

“We talk about them,” Harry said.

“True, but that’s different,” Ron said.

“Is it?” Harry asked.

Harry grabbed the list, glanced at the names in France, Spain, Italy.

“Every country? Every town?” Harry said, “Don’t think we have that kind of time.”

“Pick some,” Ron said, “Don’t think we have to visit every one of them.”

“Nude hiking now sounds better,” Harry said.

“Stick with the plan,” Ron said.

“What plan?” Harry asked.

Harry and Ron laughed. Giggling came down from upstairs.

Harry felt the water pouring into the upstairs bathtub late that evening, when a flapping came from across the hall. Starkers, he glanced both ways before he rushed to the other side. Hedwig perched on the window sill, and Harry walked over to her. He did a bit of stroking of her feathers as he fed her an owl treat.

“I’ll be on a trip tomorrow,” Harry said, “Best not to have you with me around muggles, so it’d be better if you hung around Pig. I’ll be back before school.”

Hedwig hooted.

“Miss ya,” Harry said.

She glared, and flew off. Harry took off his glasses, made the blurred trip back to the bathtub filled with foam. A candle now burned on the shelf, the scent of lavender filled the room.

“Good idea Ron,” came Hermione’s faint voice down the hall from her bedroom, “Doubt we’ll have time for a shower in the morning.”

Harry, though, stepped into the hot water, sat as the heat permeated his skin. His balls tried to float upward. He leaned back, buried most of himself beneath the bubbles. Felt a tad childish, but also better.

“Could’ve done the hot tub,” Gia said as she entered. Gia closed the door. Though he lacked his glasses, he easily made out her long blonde hair and bare breasts.

“Was going to do a shower,” Harry said, “Plans changed.”

“You forgot your wand today,” Gia said as she sat on the edge, placed her feet into the water, “Your demons are real, so I made sure it’s packed.”

“Ta,” Harry said.

Harry studied the hard point between her legs as he felt the foot tap along his leg. Her toes teased the stiffening todger, stayed until the erection was firm.

“I wasn’t talking about that one,” Gia said.

“Haha,” Harry said.

“Worried?” Gia asked.

“A bit,” Harry said, “Someone will recognize us on the trip, cause us grief.”

“I can solve that,” Gia said.

Gia got back up, went to the counter, and brought over a tray of bottles. She set the small tray on the edge of the tub.

“What—?” Harry started.

“This’ll make you tougher to spot,” Gia said, “Be a whole different you.”

“Is that what I think it is?” Harry asked, wondering.

“As you’re supposed to have black hair, this’ll stop that,” Gia said, “Besides, I want to see it on you. Please? Pretty please?”

“Suppose—I guess,” Harry said. Knew it correct, that with anything other than black hair, most would pass him over.

Gia reached in, pulled the plug. Water began to drain.

“It’ll take time to reheat,” Harry said, he wanted the water there.

“Per the directions,” Gia said, “While wet hair is fine, it’ll wash out if you’re soaking in water. Need me to piss on you?”

Gia grabbed a brush from the first bottle, applied it to Harry’s pubic hair. Blackness of the strands leached out.

1 Canon, through HBP, simply describe Hermione as living in a suburb south of London, so I fabricated a name, Noigate, for it, and it’ll remain so for the purposes of this story.

Chapter Text

“Wake up! Wake up!”

Ron was shook into a lucid wakeful state Tuesday morning. Ron cracked his eyes, Hermione was shaking him. She was dressed in tight but light orange T–shirt with darker orange denim trousers; she had a backpack on her back.

“It’s—” Ron protested.

“We’re about to miss the train!” Hermione shouted as she pulled his arm out of the bed.

“Another wink!” Ron protested.

“And ruin all our plans?” Hermione asked as her other arm yanked the covers off.

Goosebumps ran across Ron’s suddenly exposed body.

“Come!” Hermione snapped.

Hermione pulled on Ron’s arm as he crouched upward, pulled him toward the door, starkers. Ron caught a reflection of his dick and red pubic hair before door opened.

“Your Dad!” Ron protested, it was all he could do without refusing to go.

“Come!” Hermione yanked Ron into a mild jog out the bedroom door, “Now!”

“I’m—” Ron started as he felt the morning pressure on his bladder.

“In a bit!” Hermione snapped as they bolted down the stairs.

Hermione pulled Ron down the stairs and out the front door. Gia followed, in tight light blue short shorts and a tank–top shirt, with a backpack, her hand pulled on Harry who was starkers.

“Wha—?” Ron started as his eyes caught the bottle green hair on Harry, including the pubic hair.

“Run!” Hermione snapped.

They ran.

“I have to—” Ron protested to Hermione.

“It can wait!” Hermione snapped.

“No it..” Ron’s bladder quenched, a few squirts of piss before he could stop it, and left a short zigzag wet trail.

“Can we—” Harry started.

“No time to talk. Hurry!” Hermione snapped.

Ron’s todger, along with Harry’s, flopped and their testicle filled scrotums bounced as they ran after the girls pulling on their arms. One old lady, tending to her front flowers, smiled as the two boys ran past. They came to one zebra crossing, the road filled with drivers too eager to wait for pedestrians.

“Now,” Harry whispered to Ron.

Ron would’ve preferred a loo, did as Harry did, retracted his foreskin as he gripped his dick underneath the hot sun, used the small pillar to shield as he began to pee. Hermione and Gia both pulled as a motorist did stop. Ron let his dick yield to the pressure of the bladder, his misaimed jet helped Harry’s stream power wash the front bumper of that motorist as he ran. Took longer than usual, conscious of the glances, as the slit on his penis was letting loose.

“It’s there!” Gia said as they approached the station.

Ron could see it, the train parked and loading passengers as they rounded into the station. Full speed, they hopped as the train began to move. Hermione and Gia made it first; Ron and Harry felt the doors slide across their buttocks as the doors closed.

“We need to sit—” Ron said, glancing at the crowded train, aware he and Harry were both starkers.

“Sorry for the mixup,” Hermione said, “You two wouldn’t wake and we realized there was maintenance. Miss and everything would be fouled.”

“We do need to—” Harry started; Ron noticed the eyes doing as his were doing, roaming the overcrowded train, searching for a spot to sleep.

“Then don’t oversleep your alarms!” Hermione snapped.

Several people yielded their seats to Gia and Hermione, while Harry and Ron got mixed up in the crowd standing in the aisle.

“Bloody hell,” Ron muttered as he and Harry used their hands to cover their genitals.

“Yeah,” Harry muttered as they stopped at the next station.

Crowds moved, forced Harry and Ron a bit further into the middle of the car. Giggly teenage girls to either side made no secret to their stares to what Ron and Harry were attempting to shield; either seeing the red or green pubic hair and their buttocks. A voluptuous blond adjusted the stretch of her white shirt; her nipples pressed to highlight the lack of a bra. The girls giggled at Harry’s blushing, he was trying to stay upright with the click and clack of the train over the rails while his hands kept trying to suppress his dick from excitement.

“They may do,” one girl said.

“Can’t tell as they hide their goods,” a second girl, next to Harry, said as she tried to pry his hands, though his scrotum began to show.

“We’re just getting the bum end of the bargain,” a girl across the aisle said, this spooked Ron into spinning around.

Both of the girls shoved them both backward, hands against their loins, Harry nearly tripped as the girls pressed him between them and his buttocks landed upon the window of the commuter car. Ron’s anus became a featurette for the people standing on the platform. The surge of passengers filled the void leaving both Harry and Ron trapped in the four–seaters of the rail car. Both found their hands being pried as the train resumed its trip.

Ron conceded first to keep his balance; his semi–aroused todger was the first to be inspected.

“I suppose it will have to do,” one girl said.

Ron saw the tits through the light and low cut shirt; both of her feet were on the seat with legs spread, when she reached up her short skirt, commando style, her labia fully exposed. All four girls smiled as Ron’s dick stiffened, the erection ratcheting upward. The young girl on Ron’s left blew across the shaft jutting out from him; her fingers rubbed her clitoris and around her vulva.

“Um…” Ron muttered, knowing that they all could view themselves in the shimmer of his moist glans as his foreskin wasn’t big enough to completely cover it soft, let alone, hard.

“You need not bang—” the girl on his right said as her fingers probed his loose scrotum for his plump testicles “—but a little juice would help—”

“Par—” Ron started.

The masturbating girl paused long enough to pull her shirt down to let her tits ride over the edge. She studied his erection as she continued to rub.

Ron felt a tug and stumbled until his arse was sitting on the knee of the girl that was formerly to his left, with him leaned back and legs spread, with the girls, including the masturbating one, keeping a good eye on his loose scrotum underneath his firm statue jutting upward. The one that Ron was leaning against reached around his waist, grabbed his right hand, and moved toward the dick; her left hand guided his left hand under the shirt of the girl on their left.

His buttocks were firmly on the bare thigh of the girl whose right hand touched his hard and excited erection. She giggled as her right index finger touched his slit, her hand clamped his hand about the shaft, his fingers firmly wrapped about whereas hers stayed agile. Her hand moved down and prodded into his pubic hair and scrotum as his hand started to toss.

Several business men in the aisle adjusted their ties as they tried to avoid watching as Ron’s foreskin started to slip and the masturbating girl gave a quick moan. Ron’s testosterone coursed through his blood as his sexuality became the entertainment of the passengers. His thumb gripped the upper side as the index and middle fingers worked the under side of his penis. The youthful breasts kept him stroking as the girls studied him, while the girl under him toyed with his testicles.

Ron failed to notice the editorial intern drawing an inflated caricature of his full scrotum, todger, and pubic hair as he tossed. His glans kept a repeated cycle of peak–a–boo as he masturbated in the rhythm of the girl, the girl who kept a close eye on his slit as it stayed steadily aimed at her. His jewels were fully cupped and supported by the girl feeling them up as the first shiver started during the braking into Waterloo.

“It’s coming—” the girl whispered as his love spuds started to drain.

The masturbating girl watched the first surge as she maintained her orgasm; straight out of his hard dick, the slit spewed the first salvo, the shot of pearly white splattered on the edge of the seat, just barely missing her pink as the train was in sight of the station platforms. His juice flowed in the subsequent few surges.

“Interesting…” the girl, who was fondling his testicles, muttered as she watched the scrotum.

Ron raised his eyebrows as the doors opened. The girl next to the window on the other bench stood up.

“She wants to be a doctor,” the girl said, “and we’ve got to catch…”

Slightly softer, his todger was still oozing juice as Ron found himself shoved into the thinning corridor, the other passengers were quickly disembarking; he glanced at Harry’s look at him.

“What—?!” Ron started.

“Are you complaining about the service of this train?” Harry asked as they went for the way off the train.

Ron snorted as a slightly growing thin pendulum of semen oscillated with his step. Ron grabbed a used napkin near the door to wipe his dick. Hermione and Gia caught up as they started to leave the train.

“I don’t blame you a bit,” Hermione said as they stepped off the train.

“Neither do I see you—” Harry started as they jogged for the escalators up to Waterloo East.

“Don’t” Hermione snapped.

“Should we go back—” Gia asked.

“No!” Harry whipped as his own todger bounced about as he ran down the ramp to the platform where the train was already waiting.

They made it onto the 1042 express train, which was nearly empty. Hermione stormed for the other end, Harry followed.

“Hermione!” Harry said.

She returned the glare, her eyes kept darting at his dick and bottle green pubic hair.

“In case it escaped your attention,” Harry said, “Boys do have penises—”

Hermione snorted.

“Unless you think we don’t,” Harry said as he pointed at his own.

“I think I might have read something like that in a book somewhere—” Hermione said, dismissively.

“Have you considered that a dick might be like a tail or Hagrid with a three headed dog?” Harry said, “There’s only so much that can be done! Or that those girls molested him?”

“Then he would have reported—” Hermione said.

“And you—you could have woken us up earlier—” Harry said.

“I tried—” Hermione said.

Harry sat down next to her on the seat.

“Did you even think that Fred’s or George’s prank might have lingered—” Harry started.

“That was yesterday—” Hermione said.

“And years ago I got a scar—” Harry retorted.

“I…I…” Hermione started.

“Look,” Harry said, “…. if he weren’t starkers…”

“If he weren’t getting excited at every girl—” Hermione said.

“And you wouldn’t know it if he were dressed,” Harry quipped.

“I’m sorry,” Gia said as she approached, Ron behind her, “We should have tried to wake you—”

“And if all we’re going to do is fight—” Ron started.

“Now that we’ve got some time,” Hermione said, “You could get some clothes from your luggage—”

“Do you see any luggage?” Ron asked, his arms wide and his genitals in full view.

“Did you mean to say that you forgot—” Gia asked.

“I thought you two—” Harry started, his eyes glancing between Hermione and Gia.

“If you expect us to dress you—” Hermione started.

“Did you pack any—” Ron asked.

“Have you compared your waist to ours—” Gia asked.

“Can we?” Ron quipped.

Hermione sighed.

“What do we have?” Harry asked.

“I overslept too, we all did,” Hermione said, “Fortunately, I think I did accidentally grab…”

She opened her backpack and uncovered their wands and several wallets. Harry grabbed one of the wallets and opened it.

“Mine—” Harry said, “Keep them as I don’t have pockets.”

“What’d you expect me to do?” Hermione said, “I was expecting you to pack your own stuff!”

“Gotta run around starkers?” Ron asked.

They sat in an open four seater. Ron and Gia took the window seats; she looked forward, while he was on the edge of his seat, testicles hanging over the edge, and glaring as Harry sat next to Gia. Harry brought his feet up to the edge of the seat as Hermione sat. Hermione’s eyes stayed fixed on the genitals between Harry’s spread legs, keeping them there after Harry’s erection returned.

“Can we not start this?” Harry said, “We’ll get to Devon, I think we’ll have time to buy something before the ferry departs.”

“Money money!” Ron snapped.

A gray cloud lingered over them. Ron kept glaring at Harry; while Harry watched Hermione get up and walk around as she feigned an interest in the emergency instructions posted about. Hermione came back, sat on the seat, and stared at Harry’s bottle green hair. Harry twirled his soft penis around, Hermione snorted, but she gave a bit of a grin; he twisted it, rolled his foreskin, and kept playing with it, until Gia’s hand took over. Hermione watched Gia’s foreplay with Harry. Ron glared and glared at Gia. Harry grabbed Gia, and stood up, pulled her down the corridor into the next carriage.

“That prat!” Harry exclaimed, his voice drifting back into their primary carriage, “Of all the ego–centric—”

“Sit and spin,” Ron muttered.

“Ronald Bil—” Hermione started.

“Not you, too!” Ron snapped.

Hermione glared for a moment.

“You’re doing this to yourself,” Hermione said.

Ron continued his mood for some while. In the meanwhile, the train arrived at Dover and they got off.

“I’ve got your wallet,” Hermione reminded Harry, “We can—”

“No,” Harry said, “Go with Gia—”

“You’re starkers—” Hermione said.

“And Ron’s angry,” Harry said, “I’d rather—”

“Just remember that people won’t appreciate you peeing in the gutter—” Hermione said.

“Is pooping okay?” Harry asked as a mild chuckle came from his mouth.

Hermione shook her head, took Gia with her toward the waterfront. Harry, however, dragged Ron up to Dover Castle, not noticing the small paper in Ron’s hand. Ron kept both a frown on his face and his distance from Harry as they poked about, eventually making their way into a tunnel leading from the Keep to the outer gate guard shack.

“Blatantly gallivanting his rubbish…” Ron muttered.

Harry’s small hands grabbed Ron by the shoulders, magic flowed as Harry pushed him against the wall. Ron did not resist, but instead, slouched until their eyes were level.

“Belt up you sour puss!” Harry said, “Gutted but this is supposed to be fun, all right? Or would you rather spend the summer with Ginny watching your arse?”

“Ew, Sick!” Ron said.

“I need a friend that I can be seen naked with, I need you,” Harry said, “Alright?”

“Yeah,” Ron sighed.

“And what’s this?” Harry released Ron, grabbed the paper from Ron’s hand.

“Don’t,” Ron pleaded.

Harry, however, opened it. It was from the morning’s copy of Witch Weekly, which Harry rotated it to view the centerfold upright.

“She sent it in!” Ron snapped.

Harry recognized it as Ron, taken the day before in the moving picture. Repeatedly, the photo–Ron orgasmed and ejaculated, which included the bit of semen that hit Professor McGonagall’s robes. Harry snickered.

“It’s not funny!” Ron protested.

“I didn’t realize exactly what Fred and Ginny captured—” Harry smiled as he said that.

“Try it sometime—” Ron snatched the magazine “—and see how you feel—”

“At least you’re out of the Burrow for the summer,” Harry said, “No more of these pictures for her.”

Ron grimaced.

“Gia’s got you by the bollocks,” Ron said.

“Ya think?” Harry asked as his hands motioned to his lower front side.

Harry retracted his foreskin, the normally pink glans was green, darker than the bottle green of the hair.

“How?” Ron asked.

“Dye,” Harry said, showing all sides, including a bit into the foreskin. Only bit of pink showed deep inside the slit as he spread it open.

“Wicked,” Ron said, “But likely costs..”

“Does it look like I’m carrying stuff here?” Harry asked, “Does it?”

“Are you—” Ron started, “Should I have to peel—”

“In case you hadn’t noticed,” Harry said, “I’m not carrying anything—quit whining and enjoy it! If it’ll make you feel better, we could…maybe…nobody’s really cared so far…dunno… Let me put it this way, those girls didn’t ask you for your wallet, did they?”

“Of course they didn’t—” Ron said, “—they could see—”

“Then lets not bother to get anything,” Harry said.

“We need some clothes—”

“Do we?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re letting Hermione suck too long—”

Ron gave Harry a quick smack.

“Anyways, it occurred to me on the train,” Harry said, “I don’t think it was some accident.”

“You mean—” Ron started.

“I set the alarm, didn’t you?” Harry said, “My wallet and my wand were in my backpack, you?”

“Those dirty—”

“I say we get ‘em back, we forget the clothes,” Harry said, “Why bother?”

Ron studied Harry’s eyes.

“And yes, I’m serious,” Harry said, “It’s too hot anyways, and—”

“Girls would protest—” Ron started.

“We too can make sure that accidents are arranged,” Harry said, “Especially sending that owl delivery—”

“Owl delivery?” Ron stammered.

“On the train,” Harry said, “From Hermione, to Hermione, it likely had our clothes and I sent it back with a return.”

“And you’re as bad—” Ron started.

“They started it,” Harry said, “Anyways, if it keeps you from going mad, I’m willing to let Europe see my willy. And the girls—it’d be nice for them to—lets just say we won’t be forgotten.”

Harry and Ron left the tunnel, paused in the sunshine on the edge of the embankment.

“I wasn’t looking forward to seeing—” Ron said.

“You’re saying it’s ugly?” Harry quipped.

“No…wasn’t implying…” Ron stammered, his willpower tried to force his eyes from looking.

Harry laughed and Ron joined in the laugh.

“And shit—” Ron blurted.

“Having the girls join us—” Harry started.

“No,” Ron said, as he held his bum, “I mean I have to—”

“I think I saw a loo—” Harry said, pointing.

“I can’t—” Ron said.

Ron tried to run, but a pop started, and he instinctively crouched, his genitals dangling beneath his thighs as the first bit emerged in the middle of the grass. Dark brown, the fecal material came out long as he deposited it. Harry glanced around the yard and noted a security person taking notice but seemingly did not concern herself with Ron’s public defecation. Another visitor, a young lady, not too older than them, had a camcorder pointed straight at them, trained on the pooping.

Harry tried to avoid staring at Ron.

“My personal Bludger!” Ron snapped.

“There’s a loo—” Harry whispered while pointing.

“I just—”

“You may as well have your arse hole look cared for,” Harry said, “It’s—I mean—”

“I get it,” Ron stated as the last of his turds hit the ground.

Ron gave an angry glance at Harry as he stood and went for the loo. Abandoning the new pile on the lawn, Harry followed. They entered, Ron went for a stall and grabbed a wad of paper.

“While I know you get off on this kind of—” Ron started.

“I don’t get why they didn’t tell you off,” Harry said.

“Like muggles care—” Ron snapped.

“They do—and they have laws against—” Harry started.

“Maybe it’s YOU!” Ron exclaimed.

“Don’t rub that—” Harry said as Ron flushed, “—I mean drop it.”

“Sorry,” Ron said.

They left the loo.

“Tell you what,” Harry said as his right arm wrapped about Ron, “Let’s enjoy this—my bollocks are nice and loose—”

“Like I needed to know—” Ron said.

“Nothing outside our skin matters—just enjoy the trip with the girls,” Harry said, “With them starkers, if possible.”

Ron snickered.

“No rules,” Harry said, “None! Take a dump as a pleasure for others, or use the loo, or piss in the drinking fountain—”

“Others might—” Ron started.

“Then they scold us and we move on to piss in the next town’s drinking fountain,” Harry said.

“You had better not!” came the words of Hermione as they joined up at the ferry terminal.

“We were just kidding,” Harry said.

“And still starkers,” Hermione said, the eyes of the female agent looked over Ron and Harry’s genitals as this was said.

“You have our wallets,” Harry said, “Anyways, we need to get—”

“Ferry’s about to leave,” the agent said.

Harry grabbed his wallet from Hermione, and paid for the tickets; he handed the wallet to Gia and made for the boat.

“Looks like somebody’s traveling light,” the male boat attendant said as he took their tickets and checked their passports, “If only I could talk my girlfriend into that.”

They walked to the boat.

“In case you thought nobody would notice you two hawking pubic hair—” Hermione started.

“Chill,” Ron stated.

Harry and Gia started to move around the boat.

“Pardon?!” Hermione said, “You’re anything but cold.” Her eyes glanced at Ron’s loose scrotum.

“Just saying,” Ron said, “—keeping sight of my pubs is growing on me.”

“Will you promise me, when we get—” Hermione started as Ron glanced at the thin shirt lightly veiling her breasts.

“Can you just relax?” Ron said as his todger began to stiffen, “I’m getting hungry.”

“Oh, I’m certain you are,” Hermione stated.

“In more ways than one,” Ron said as he gave her a hug. He gripped one of her snaps.

“Do and I’ll rip this thing off,” Hermione gripped his dick for a moment.

“Alright,” Ron said as he let go, “I’ll be about.”

“We couldn’t help but notice—” the woman started.

The woman’s eyes tried to avoid, but looked anyways at Harry’s crotch, his legs parted and stretched as he leaned back in the seat.

“The green hair?” Harry said, “Gia dyed it—she thought it looked pretty.”

Not that they had missed it, for it was his bushy pubic hair that had originally caught their attention.

“We were referring to the fact that no hair is unrevealed,” the man said.

“Oh…them,” Harry glanced at his dick, “Got up way too late—hadn’t had a good chance yet—”

“How long ago was that?” the boy asked.

Harry snorted and chuckled.

“Long enough to have misplaced our luggage,” Harry said, “Feels better, so I might not do anything about it.”

“Seems good enough of a reason to me,” the teenage girl said.

Ron, having sat at the end of the row, started to gaze upon Harry’s dick. Last week, a dick that had confronted you–know–who. A dick that had… A dick that clearly doesn’t have a Galleon to its name. A dick that showed Ron how much of a dick he was being dicking about money. A dick, dangling from his friend. A rich friend. A dick that would surrender bollocks to get his parents back. A dick, basking in the attention. A dick clearly making the friend happy. A dick, that likely doesn’t know where most of his Gringotts vault did come from. A dick that doesn’t realize that it’s spending the blood money for his parents. A dick that Ron would miss if it were not around. A dick that started to infect a smile onto Ron’s face. A dick that Ron suddenly realized that he had been staring at.

Ron glanced up, caught a returning glance from Harry, tension eased in both. Having seen what they had seen, together, and him having witnessed of Harry, Ron acquiesced as their exposed dicks calmed them both. Not that they were totally causal about it, yet, but they both knew it was the way to go, yet both were uneasy, as nobody yet seemed to protest. Apparently, while Ron thought it odd about Muggle culture, Harry knew that under normal circumstances, he would have been picked up ages ago.

Ron got up and headed toward the gallery, and paused around the corner.

“…and can’t believe they fell for it,” Hermione said to Gia.

“Nice idea there,” Gia said, “Both of them said that you were smart and devious.”

“I have my moments,” Hermione said, “If we had more time at Waterloo—”

“If your lie about maintenance—” Gia said, “Those schedules were tight enough as it was—”

“If it weren’t for that signaling fault at Woking—” Hermione said, “Even still—where’s the owl?”

“Don’t fret about it,” Gia said, “It’s not like they’re complaining—”

“Boys—” Hermione started.

“And I don’t mind the sight,” Gia said.

They both giggled. Ron turned around, dug through the post box, found the envelope he was looking for, before going outside, where Harry was now standing.

“Just heard the girls—” Ron explained the conversation.

“We make great pets,” Harry replied.

“What?!” Ron stammered.

“Lyrics to some song I overheard,” Harry said, “I say we give them what they want, as we discussed.”

“One step ahead of you there,” Ron said, “Lets just say that Hermione’s mum won’t know of our plight as Muggle post is unreliable.”

“Not that unreliable,” Harry said, “Are you sure on traveling light?”

“Now you’re asking!” Ron snapped.

Harry snorted.

“Can’t say it’s totally—” Ron said, “Getting others sizing up your todger too? It’s not like some of their stuff leaves much guessing anyways.”

“Uneasy feeling too.” Harry felt his shrunken sack. “And the wind.”

“It has its advantages too.” Ron jumped backward up onto a railing, letting his arse hang over, his genitals rested on the rail.

“Going overboard?” Harry asked.

“No,” Ron said, shaking his head, “Just more appealing than their loo.”

Ron parted his buttocks and sludge started to move.

“Fred’s curse strikes again,” Ron said, “It’s not the first time he’s cursed me, though that was a new one, likely has side–effects.”

For a moment, a good foot dangled from his arse, it swayed in the breeze, before the light brown turd dropped to the water below.

“I can see,” Harry said, “I think we’re on the French side.”

“Good,” Ron said as a smaller chunk dropped, “Do I need to clean?”

Harry glanced at the brown hole, saw the light skin around it.

“Nothing holding on,” Harry remarked.

In short order, the ferry made it to Calais. As they departed the terminal, Harry was on the receiving end of an angry blast from an angry motorist, one that had nearly ran into his fleshy buttocks as Harry crossed in front.

“Watch it—” Hermione said, “They drive on the right side—and—the train!”

Dicks flopping, buttocks flexing, they ran for the station and watched as the train pulled away without them. Harry glanced at Hermione fiddling with a wallet.

“At least you’ve got time to—” Hermione started.

“How can you be so insensitive?” Harry scolded as a mild green grew on Ron’s face.

“In case you didn’t realize—you’re NAKED!” Hermione said, “In the name of decency—”

Ron glanced at Harry.

“If all you wanted to do was shop—” Ron spouted as he bolted for the way out.

“WE will be back in three hours—come or stew,” Harry stated.

Harry chased after Ron; Hermione stood as the buttocks flexed their way out of view.

“We intended—” Hermione said.

“You know how sensitive Ron is with money,” Gia said, “You don’t want to wedge their friendship apart.”

“Not everybody takes kindly—” Hermione started.

“A copper will sort them out and they’d brag about it,” Gia said.

They went for the exit.

“It was just a prank—”

“I came to spend time with Harry–let’s catch up—”

“Which way?” Hermione asked.

“Think.” Gia turned to a nearby police officer. “Did you see two naked boys—”

The officer pointed north along the road.

“You’re right—”

“Easier to find if they stay starkers.”

Hermione snorted.

“It started as a prank,” Gia said, “See no reason to force them—”

“And get arrested for—” Hermione started.

“Like we’re dressed much better?” Gia pulled on her white t–shirt, her nipples briefly vanished as they passed a topless local. “—in fact—” She pulled her shirt off, letting her breasts roam free.

“It’s still—”

“I didn’t come to be a chaperon. If they come into trouble, we warned them.”

“True,” Hermione said, “Which way—”

“I’m guessing the sea,” Gia said.

“Oh—now I remember—” Hermione said, “Yes, there’s a beach—”

Gia laughed. They caught up with Harry and Ron at the threshold to the beach, nobody around besides the girls had anything on.

“Good,” Harry said, “Ron’s a bit famished—”

“Like we—” Hermione said.

“You’ve got the wallets, right?” Harry asked.

“It’s not clothing optional,” Ron said, lying while he looked at Hermione, still dressed, next to Gia with shorts.

“It’s not—” Hermione started.

“It’s clothing forbidden,” Harry stated, picking up on Ron’s tactic.

“I’m a bit unsure—” Hermione said.

“Won’t force it,” Harry said, “Anyways—”

Gia glanced at Harry’s protruding ribs.

“I’m definitely hungry,” Gia said.

Harry grabbed Gia by the shoulder; they headed back up the street.

“Got my wallet?” Harry asked, “Need to bang?”

“Are you serious?” Gia asked, “Didn’t you have some monk–like—”

“Started to realize—” Harry said, “It’s like now, if we didn’t take the leap…before today, only a handful of souls had seen my privates—but today, hundreds if not strangers have. Sure, I notice them looking, and I do care, but my todger’s still here—” he let his penis firm up “—maybe…”

Harry reached for her shorts.

“Your hangups—” Gia said.

“Let them sort themselves out,” Harry said as he dropped her shorts and panties to the ground; he reached down and tossed them into a nearby rubbish bin, at a deli cafe.

“What if—” Gia started.

“Why worry?” A waiter, dressed in a T–shirt and shorts, asked them; the young adult male looked wishfully at them. “Here are some menus.”

Gia sat on the bar stool at the outside elevated table

“I’ll take soup and salad—he’ll get a…” Gia looked at the menu “…steak sandwich and chips.”

Harry shrugged.

“Anything to drink?” the waiter asked.

“Diet soda for me—regular for him.” Gia said.

Harry shrugged and the waiter went to the back. Harry kept his erection up as he started to paw through the backpack. All of her clothes were making it into the rubbish bin, joining the just removed pair of shorts that had left her starkers.

“I might need—” Gia started.

“Then we shop if there’s troubles,” Harry said, “No point in carrying it all the way for nothing.”

“Only if you accept responsibility—” Gia started.

“Dunno why,” Harry said, “Something tells me—”

The waiter showed up with their food. They quickly ate, Harry did so slowly. Gia kept his statue primed. As they came to a finish, the waiter approached.

“Need anything for dessert?” the waiter asked.

Gia motioned for him to come closer and whispered into his ear.

“Um…” the waiter said, “Certainly.”

Gia laid down a high value note for the bill.

Harry’s face started to show some pinkness. “Um…”

“It’s a while to the train,” Gia said.

Gia pushed the table away, nobody mistook Harry’s mood as they sat on the stools, his bollocks dangling loose underneath the hard erection. She started stroking his chest and his grin was wide; she gave him a quick kiss. Harry latched his tongue into her mouth.

“Hmm…” Gia muttered.

He brought her chest into his, while his cock stood watch, and her hip guarded his hip. Her knockers pressed into his skin. Her right hand started to jiggle his scrotum, his testicles bobbed up and down. Her tongue started to withdraw, his withdrew, while she turned slightly. Gia moved slightly, her breasts cluttered his view as she pulled him back. He pulled her left leg about his head, her crotch became his view. His tongue moved up and touched her folds. As he leaned full back, arched with his dick standing vertical, her thighs caught and supported his head. She leaned over and kissed the slit.

A nearby tourist stood with his video camera aimed at them. Neither Harry nor Gia paid any heed. The tent pole in the tourist’s shorts showed his interest as Harry’s tongue touched Gia’s clitoris.

Harry licked and Gia started to mouth onto his statue. She started to moan slightly as Harry’s tongue moved inward; her tongue massaged his shaft several times, and started onto his glans. It was only when Harry noticed the tourist close in on him massaging her buttocks that he realized he was giving a show—they could see his own cock which was obscured from his angle. They watched her jiggle his family jewels for their pleasure too. Quickly, he felt the quiver and she withdrew in time to see his boyish magma erupt. Several of the spectators cheered when his first shot got onto Gia’s face. Gia let the oozing off pearly white leave a trail down into his bottle green pubic hair. Harry didn’t notice the camera taking a closeup of his freshly squeezed genitals.

After the waiter brought out a soda refill, Gia let Harry’s head out, and took a sip. She left the semen splash on her cheek.

“Um…” Harry said as he sat back up.

“It’s fun,” Gia said, “However, the aftertaste…don’t complain.”

“Alright,” Harry said.

“It would be nice to get some surf before the train—”

“Sure,” Harry said as he stood up.

Both elected to let the evidence loiter and dry on its own as they left the deli. After the four caught the train, Gia’s right hand started combing Harry’s pubic hair. Only Hermione still wore anything, her shirt, shorts that had replaced her trousers, and the sandals that were her outfit.

“Are you trying—?!” Hermione started.

“Wha—” Harry started.

“You have to admit—it is weird,” Gia said, “Running around starkers is one thing—with what we’ve done—”

An owl came flapping by the window. Ron grabbed the letter addressed to him.


Blimey! We’ve heard you’ve got some bollocks—some witches liked your todger on the train and were gossiping in the shop. We managed to convince Dad it was some muggle—but with Harry also hanging out his manhood makes it tough. Good work though, as apparently nobody is stopping you nor charging you with indecent exposure and lewd behavior.

We recommend combing your bush. Also, Ginny uses your excited eleventh finger as a ruler, apparently. Here’s some helpers to enhance your exploits.

Fred & George

“You’ve been noticed!” Hermione snapped.

“And only you seem to care!” Ron snapped.

“But—” Hermione stammered.

“Just relax—” Harry said as Gia cupped his loose scrotum.

“I can see what’s—” Hermione glanced at his bollocks, “You’d think—”

“I don’t know why—” Harry said.

“Of course you don’t!” Hermione snapped as she rose from her seat.

Hermione bolted for the next carriage; Ron stood and jogged to catch up.

“You two—” Hermione said, “I mean you three—”

“They didn’t—” Ron started.

“Did you even read that letter?” Hermione said, “Aren’t you the least bit suspicious—”

“We’ll never find out if we cover up,” Ron said, inspired.

“Uh–huh,” Hermione said, dubious.

“Whatever is happening—it is too hot—” Ron flicked sweat off his loin, “It’s a holiday and Mum would’ve permitted it given we couldn’t afford…”


“Wha—? I mean… don’t mean to pressure…um…why cloak beauty?”

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Clothes make you look ugly—fat—” Ron started.


Ron grinned.

“I—I…” Hermione started to lift her shirt. “Anything happens—”

“And we’re in trouble together—it’s happened before.”

“Still not a great—” Hermione tossed her shirt to the side.

“You are a beautiful witch,” Ron said, his snake wiggled at the sight of her nipples.

“Just because—” Hermione started, her shorts dropped to the floor.

“Why hide the honest opinion?” Ron said as his flesh firmed up.

“You two just wanted us—” Hermione started as she turned to return.

Ron’s foot flicked her clothing underneath the seats and grabbed her tightly about the waist from behind, his cock knocked onto her side.

“I certainly love it,” Ron said, “I certainly love you enough to show everybody that you make me horny—”

“Careful—” Hermione started.

“You want me to lie?” Ron asked as they started to waddle forward.

“Um…” Hermione uttered.

“Anyways, you started—” Ron started.

“Ron!” Hermione snapped.

“Ahem,” Ron said, “You forget that I know you. I know you. I know you too well to have let us out the door—”

“Ample opportunity to get—”

“You just didn’t figure us getting hooked—”

“So that’s your excuse—”

“We didn’t have a chance for a while—by which point…well…it…it is comfortable as is.”

“Honesty at last,” Hermione said as they finished returning to the carriage with Harry and Gia.

“It’s tough for him to lie,” Harry said as Gia massaged his partially aroused snake.

“But you could—” Gia started.

“Can’t lie about the size of my todger,” Ron said.

“Good observation,” Hermione said.

“And about you—” Gia said.

“I’m not completely convinced this is a good—” Hermione said, “Can’t be the ugly duckling.”

“You’re definitely not ugly,” Harry said as he yawned, “You look wonderful.”

Harry leaned a bit further into Gia, his head drooped onto her bosom. Hermione sat down and watched as Harry’s foreskin reclaimed its charge, slowly a small yellow waterfall trickled out.

“He’s…” Hermione started to blurt. Her eyes darted up to his shuttered eyes, then back down to the bollocks and the stream that meandered over the edge of the seat and onto the floor.

“It wouldn’t be Harry if he didn’t—” Gia said.

“I was wondering who wet the bed—” Hermione asked, “Does he always—”

“Normally,” Gia said, “He’s—”

“If you’re awake,” Ron said, “It can trigger—be right back.”

Ron got up and made for the watercloset.

“If peeing the bed is the worst trait of a boyfriend—” Gia said.

“I suppose,” Hermione said, “Makes the laundry—”

“The shops do sell stuff to handle that,” Gia said, “Gives a different perspective…”

“Hot, too hot!” Harry snapped, still asleep.

Harry’s stream became a fast jet. Gia massaged his ear lobe and Harry returned to a slow trickle.

“Does he always—” Hermione asked.

“Occasionally,” Gia said.

Harry curled up, brought his knees up until his legs rested on hers, and started to suck his thumb.

“We should tell—” Hermione started.

“No,” Ron said, returning to the seat, “Nothing can be done—for now.”

“Like you care—” Hermione snapped.

“Like I think that we’re doing all that we can do for him,” Ron stated, “Let us keep doing what we’re doing.”

Hermione looked at Ron’s forehead for a moment, wondering about the one she’s called her boyfriend.

Chapter Text

Ron woke the next morning, on the floor beneath the bunk beds in their small private hostel room. Above him, Hermione was standing by the desk like table, fidgeting. Ron stood, pushed his front into her back, wrapped his arms around to massage into her breasts, and looked over her shoulder to see her messing with the wallets. Hermione groaned for a moment.

“Hermione?” Ron asked.

“In case you hadn’t noticed,” Hermione said, “We lack pockets. So, unless you want to hide your passport up your arse—”

“You’re an intelligent witch,” Ron whispered, “So—”

“I’m working on it,” Hermione stated, “Don’t get any ideas.”

“Me?” Ron asked, innocently as his erection began to push on her back.

“Yes, you,” Hermione said, twisting for a moment, escaping her clutches.

“Can’t help it, you make me horny,” Ron said.

“Obviously,” Hermione said.

“What’s going on?” Harry asked, waking up. Gia was still asleep next to him on the bottom bunk.

“Hermione’s trying to figure out how we can hide our wallets and things,” Ron said, his eyes made contact with his.

“Ditching the backpacks?” Harry said, still beneath the damp sheets, “Good idea—it’d be nice to, and they do awful things to your backs—”

“Like what?” Hermione snapped.

“Covers it up,” Ron said, “Beautiful back.”

Hermione snorted.

“It’s true,” Harry said, “You’re always gorgeous.”

“I’m starkers,” Hermione quipped.

“And it’s wonderful,” Harry said, “You’re wonderful inside and outside.”

“Quit hitting on her,” Ron said.

“What’s not to like?” Harry asked.

“Quit it,” Ron said.

“We can’t carry a lot,” Hermione said, changing the topic.

“We’ll post the rest back,” Harry said, “It’s not like we’ll need a lot.”

“A few odds and ends at most,” Hermione said, “Wands, wallets, and a thing or two more.”

Harry got out of bed, grabbed Gia’s backpack, and began rummaging through it. Harry pulled out his Firebolt, laid it on the bed, along with his wand, wallet, penknife, passport and tickets; he began to pull out Gia’s stuff.

“Can it work on her too?” Harry asked.

“Not certain,” Hermione said, “You might need to carry her stuff too.”

“She may have to share my wallet,” Harry said.

“Huh?” Gia asked, starting to rouse.

“We’re going to travel lighter,” Harry said.

“Lighter?” Gia asked.

“Yeah, lighter,” Harry said, “No backpacks. Anything here you need?”

“Everything,” Gia said.

“We can buy or conjure everything here,” Harry said, “Pack light?”

“You owe me a bang,” Gia said.

“Deal,” Harry said, “Before we get to Charlie’s.”

“Really?” Gia asked.

“I’ve got an idea,” Harry said.

“What?” Gia asked.

“Never mind that, get things figured out,” Hermione said, “I need to know what to hide on us.”

“We’ve got it here already,” Harry said, “Should be with us. The rest can go.”

“Just where are you going to hide those brooms?” Gia asked.

“You don’t want to know,” Ron said.

“How?” Harry asked.

“Best to leave it as a surprise,” Ron said.

“You know about it?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah,” Ron said, “Yours will be much better going in.”

“Thank you for the confidence,” Hermione said.

“How?” Harry asked.

“On the table, all fours,” Ron said, “Show us your butt.”

“Are you doing it where I think you’re doing it?” Gia asked.

“Hardest part is remembering where to grab,” Ron said as Harry did get onto the table, “So, the favorite choice is—” Ron took the oversized condom, pushed it against Harry’s butt crack “—here.” Ron pushed with his middle finger, threading the condom into Harry’s anus.

“Could’ve warned me,” Harry said.

It took a moment for the condom’s edge to tightly ring the anus, it all vanished.

“Now you can shove things up your arse,” Ron said.

“You do that all the time!” Harry snapped.

“Start with the Firebolt,” Ron said, casually, “Want the handle end first or the bristles?”

“Does it matter?” Harry stammered.

“As they say, no pain, no gain,” Gia said.

“And you’re all staring at my arse!” Harry snapped.

“Just think happy thoughts,” Ron said as he grabbed Harry’s Firebolt. Ron aimed it, centered it with Harry’s anus, and rammed the handle inward.

Harry moaned and groaned as his sphincter stretched to let the broom in. His loosely hanging penis began to dribble.

“Hey!” Hermione said, moving her things beneath him, “And Ron, you’re enjoying this!”

“Absolutely not,” Ron said, nonchalantly as the braces pushed Harry’s butt cheeks even further apart, “Just relax, and you’ll get used to it.”

“Really?” Harry stammered.

“What if he takes a dump?” Gia asked.

“Nothing to what’s inside the pocket,” Ron said, “Reaching for something, however, well, doesn’t protect your hand. And the broom’s a big bigger than what most people shove into these.”

“I can’t imagine why that’d be,” Harry said, sarcastically.

“Now, I’ll just pull it back out and shove it back in,” Ron said, “For good measure.”

“NO!” Harry snapped.

“Your turn Ron,” Hermione said, taking Harry’s hint.

“I’ll just do it in the loo,” Ron said.

Ron grabbed his Firebolt, his wand, his things, including a condom, went out the door.

“A shame,” Hermione said, “I figured he’d want to do mine.”

“Does it require somebody else to shove it up his arse?” Gia asked.

“No,” Hermione said, “Still, its better to have help. Got everything?”

“ID and passport’s all that’s needed, right?” Gia asked.

“Pretty much,” Hermione said, “Hold still Harry.”

“Sure, play with my ass!” Harry said.

“I’ll take that as an invitation,” Gia replied.

Hermione, however, shoved Harry’s things up his arse.

“That’ll be great for when you want something,” Gia said, sarcastically.

“Yeah, looks awfully funny to have fingers up my arse,” Harry said, “You do it Hermione.”

“Can’t, it’s attached itself to your butt,” Hermione said, “It’ll only respond to you. So, concentrate on…your wand. Once you want your wand, reach up your butt.”

Harry concentrated, reached.

“Ew,” Gia muttered.

Sludge, brown sludge moved as Harry defecated, the logs came out.

“Yeah, I read that can happen,” Hermione said, “Wait and concentrate a bit harder.”

Harry grabbed a tissue, wiped, before trying again. This time, his holly wand came out to slip itself between his fingers.

“Cool,” Gia said.

“You’ll get the hang of it, now mine,” Hermione said, blushing, “And having you staring at my own arse—small price.”

Harry gritted his teeth as he shoved the wand back in; he got off the table and stood up. He motioned, and Hermione got onto the table, on her fours.

“How did Ron do this to me?” Harry asked, while holding the next condom.

“Here,” Gia said, standing next to Harry, “Finger into it, and push it up. After that, do it to me.” She gave him a quick kiss.

“Sorry, you’re a muggle,” Hermione said.

“Means he can’t play with my arse?” Gia asked.

Hermione laughed a bit before Harry pushed the condom into Hermione’s anus.

“Definitely personal,” Harry said.

“Where else do you put it?” Hermione said, “I’ve got another option as a girl, still, that’s the safer location from what I’ve learned.”

Harry inserted her wand, wallet, and passport, before he got to the set of bottles. Harry paid enough attention to her that he didn’t notice Ron coming back into the room.

“You did bring it along!” Harry said, “I’m not an expert, but do you really want those in the arse too?”

“I thought Ron might be interested too,” Hermione said, “It was a buy one, get one free deal.”

“We’ll talk him into it,” Harry said.

Hermione turned around, sat on the table. “You will?”

“Yeah, best to blend in,” Harry said.

“Blend in?” Hermione said, her eyes ran across his bottle green hair, the stuff on his head, the fine hairs across his arms, the crops of his armpits, the bottle green pubic hair, including the strands coming off his scrotum, “You think you can blend in with that?”

“Black hair, red hair?” Harry said, “Anybody watching out for Harry Potter is looking for those; instead, we’re just a couple of truants if we dye it.”

“So you intend to keep it?” Hermione asked.

“For a while,” Harry said, “Re–dye as needed.”

“You’re serious?” Ron said, “Try talking to me.”

“I did, remember?” Harry said, “It’d be good for you, besides, I haven’t taken myself seriously since she did it.”

“Apparently not,” Ron said.

“Harry has a point,” Hermione said, “Another color, perhaps Malfoy silver?”

“No,” Ron said, “Blue will do.”

“Her fingers will be all over you,” Harry said, “It’ll tickle when she’s doing your bollocks. Catch you downstairs in the cafe.”

“Yeah, sure,” Ron said.

Harry and Gia left the room, went down the stairs; they came into the mildly filled cafe. Harry struggled for a moment at the counter, before he could successfully concentrate and pull the bank note out of his arse. He handed it over. Harry and Gia made for a table.

“Your friend’s not very happy,” Gia said, sipping at her iced tea.

It took Harry a few minutes to respond.

“He’s…you’ve seen his family,” Harry said, “More kids than sense, if what you value is money. Still, the situation irks him, my fame irks him. I try to avoid it with him, but sometimes even a little thing sets him off. We’re naked so we’re not worrying about clothes, that can be a sore spot too.”

Gia sipped a bit more at her tea as the tray of food was carried over.

“But you’re still friends with him,” Gia said.

It took Harry a minute of staring at the bagel, inhaling the smells of bacon, before his thoughts formed.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “I’ve got no family, so I need friends, and he’s a good friend. Him, he lives in the shadow of many older brothers, a younger sister, and now a baby brother. Ron needs a good friend, and I hope I’m being a good friend to him.”

“You are,” said Ron, now standing there, his hair now a bright blue.

Gia reached out, held the partially aroused todger, examined the now dark blue glans peeking out of the foreskin.

“It looks good on you,” Harry said, watching Gia’s thumb push a bit to examine underneath the foreskin.

“Careful,” Hermione said to Gia, “He’s threatened to piss on the first person to do that.”

Gia let go; they laughed. Hermione and Ron sat down.

“You pulled my leg,” Gia said.

“It was funny,” Ron said.

“Any plans for today?” Hermione said.

“Lemme guess, you’ve got some,” Ron said.

“So, you’ve got plans?” Harry whipped at Ron.

“No,” Ron said.

“Well, there’s an art and history museum,” Hermione said.

“Art?” Ron asked, “History?”

“A science museum,” Hermione said, “See how Muggles perceive the world.”

“Maybe,” Harry said.

“There is the autocar museum,” Hermione said, “None of them will fly, mind you.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Ron said, jokingly, “Alright, I suppose I could be made to see those, and we’ll make them fly.”

“There’s supposed to be some good nightclubs for later,” Gia said.

“We’ve got dates,” Harry said.

Evening had already arrived when the four of them approached a nightclub. Ron paused as he glanced at the myriad of nice trousers and ties.

We’re likely—” Ron started to protest.

“Don’t bounce yourself,” Harry said, “Make them do the dirty work, let them bounce us.”

They came to the door, the bouncer looked them over. In the middle, Harry with his bottle green hair, including the bit of his dark green glans sticking out of his foreskin; and Ron, with his bright blue hair. Hermione, with her small breasts and erect nipples was to Ron’s left, while Gia was to Harry’s right.

“There is a dress code,” the bouncer said.

“It says here no blue jeans, no t–shirts, no shorts,” Gia said, “However, it does permit suits—we’re in birthday suits.”

Harry’s hand went from his butt to the bouncer’s, where he passed a rolled up bank note.

“A bit of a stretch,” the bouncer said, “but I don’t get paid well enough—you may enter. Just behave yourselves.”

Harry went to the bar, whispered and handed over some more notes, and returned.

“You’re covered,” Harry said.

“Harry—” Ron protested.

“Mingle,” Harry ordered, “Have fun!”

Loud music drowned any sensible conversation as they started to move into the crowd of young adults—all the other males were wearing nice shirts and nice trousers, while the females were wearing nice dresses. Quickly, the crowds parted them apart.

“Cute,” a girl said to Ron, her eyes surveyed his dick.

“Thanks,” Ron replied.

“Can’t deny you’ve got the balls,” an eighteen year old boy said.

Ron’s snake firmed to attention, the hard erection was persistently getting groped as the crowds moved and bumped into him. Somebody felt his buttocks, while somebody else reached underneath and felt up his scrotum. His rock hard erection swung with the fast beat.

An hour later, Ron slipped out of the nightclub and walked along the back alley, he hopped a fence and went to somebody’s patio furniture. He reached up his arse; he pulled out a leather bound book, an inkjar, and a quill.

“That ought to hurt,” Ron muttered as he sat on the table.

He opened the book, full of writings, and grabbed the quill.

3 July 1996

It’s been interesting so far. Blimey! ‘mione pulled a prank—so we’ve been exploring Europe starkers. At first I was mad—then became glad. Don’t know if I’ll ever get used to having my penis constantly sized up, but nobody’s recoiled in horror—yet. Harry—dunno if it’s being naked or something else—he’s downright happy, Maybe being naked makes him forget everything else. Whatever the reason, it’s good for him.

We do seem to inspire some copycats—but they seem to get into trouble with the Muggle lawmen for less than we’re doing. Apparently, some are very tolerant, but lewd behavior—not any different than banging in Diagon Alley, I suppose. Hermione is wondering—but she hasn’t read the other letter from Fred or George. I suspect that Dumbledore has a hand in this state of affairs. Whatever the reason, I intend to enjoy it. Need to get back—nothing’s quite like openly sporting a stiffy in a nightclub.

Ron stood before the mirror the next morning; Harry, Hermione, and Gia were watching him. Ron twisted, turned, looking at his figure in the mirror, from the blue pubic hair gracing his todger to the blue armpit hair to the blue hair on his head, all complementing his blue eyes.

“Was a bit hesitant, I’m looking good,” Ron said.

Harry chuckled.

“It’s better than yours,” Ron said.

“Swotting it?” Harry asked.

He’s just jealous,” Ron said to Hermione.

Hermione, though, her eyes repeatedly traveled the handsome, a bit towering, still slender, figure standing in front of the mirror. Her smile showed her approval. Gia, though, turned her head toward Hermione, past Harry’s head.

“Dunno about you Hermione,” Gia said, “Could be a fluke, but how they talk the talk, can they even use their tools properly?”

Harry loosened his hands, buried his face in his pillow.

“If they could—” Hermione ran her forefingers under Harry’s ridge on the sheet below him, “—it’d take them a fortnight just to get moving.” Her hand returned to its grasping and massaging the head of Harry’s erection.

“Harry—” Ron whispered.

“I’m not interested in sucking on yours,” Harry replied.

Gia and Hermione broke out laughing as Ron blushed. Harry rolled a bit until he was nearly laying all the way up, but his firm flesh clearly cantered as Hermione’s hand was still toying with the dick.

Careful—” Ron warned.

All four watched Harry’s dick as Harry slightly contorted his face. In a surge, the hot lava from Harry started pulsing, the fountain squirted onto Hermione’s stomach and oozed down her hand.

“Hermione, what did you do?” Ron asked.

Gia broke out in laughter. Hermione blushed.

“Seems to work for me,” Harry said.

“Nice job there,” Ron said, bemused by the sight of his girlfriend having inadvertently given his best friend a hand–job.

“Stick to the self–admiration Ron,” Gia said.

Harry snorted.

“Maybe just the right book could help them,” Hermione said.

Ron groaned.

“Don’t worry Harry,” Gia said, “We’ll get you sorted out.”

“I think I know where it goes,” Harry said.

“Maybe we should make Hermione….say, purple?” Ron asked.

Hermione shook her head.

“Purple nipples?” Harry asked.

“Boys!” Hermione snapped.

“You made his dick BLUE!” Harry said.

“Just the head of it,” Hermione said.

“It stands out,” Harry said, “Make your features stand out. Gia, what color do you want to be?”

“Blonde!” Gia said.

“It’s a fresh day,” Hermione said, “I do want to see that Muggle science museum.”

“Come along you two,” Gia said, “And behave.”

“Behave?!” Harry sputtered, “I don’t want to behave.”

“Bare bottom spankings?” Gia asked.

“He’s up for those,” Ron said.

Hermione closed the distance.


“Hermione, don’t!” Harry retorted.

Ron turned around, bent over, and mooned Hermione.

“I’ll take that as an invitation,” Hermione said.

Harry laughed as he crawled off the bed.

“Harry!” Ron stammered, standing back up.

“Well, it was an invitation,” Harry said, “She’ll collect later.”

“Boys!” Hermione snapped.

“Best if we leave the room,” Harry said.

“Agreed,” Ron said.

Harry and Ron left the room, waited downstairs in the cafe.

“Do you really want to persuade Hermione into purple?” Harry asked.

“It’s not hiding a thing, more people look at my dick now!” Ron said.

“Your dick isn’t hiding it all,” Harry said, glancing at Ron’s dangling flesh, the glans exposed, “Blue that ought to be pink, stands out, it’s a fucking advertisement.”

“Obvious, isn’t it?” Ron said.

“Would it help if I stuck mine out?” Harry worked his foreskin, retracted it, to bring out his dark green glans.

“No,” Ron said.

They sat at a table.

“Go back up and read the bottle,” Harry said, “There’s a way to remove it.”

“Better not,” Ron said, “Besides, they’re in the shower.”

“So, we let it fade,” Harry said.

“Were you serious, about banging?” Ron asked.

“I see her, I see her charm, and her pussy,” Harry said, now playing with the salt shaker, “I want to, I fucking want to explore—I can’t.”

“You’re acting like that distinction matters, whether it matters that you’re still a virgin to her,” Ron said, “To anybody else, it doesn’t. You’re dating her—heck, you’re running around naked with her, and making no secret of your interest in her. That’s enough for anybody else to go on.”

“It matters to me,” Harry said.

“I know,” Ron said, his arms above his head, the blue armpit hair showing. “You’ve gotten yourself stuck. I’ll start pushing on you soon to get you unstuck, alright?”

“If you’re waiting to bang Hermione because of me—” Harry started.

“I can wait, for a little while,” Ron said, leaning forward on the table, “We’re heading to Paris, right? Hermione called that the city of love. We’ll get you over your hangup, alright? I swear I’ll do anything in my power to help you.”

“I don’t need you to fuck her,” Harry said.

“I may be broke but I can do this for you, I can push,” Ron said, “Your choice.”

“What choice?” Hermione asked, coming over to the table.

“Your new hair color,” Ron said.

“Brown,” Hermione said.

“Red and be a Weasley for a day,” Ron said.

After breakfast, when it was already becoming quite warm, the four left the hostel. Beads of sweat dripped down as Harry took the confident lead toward a series of shops. Ron’s blue eyes widened, lighting up as he saw the brown sign.

“Chocolate!” Ron exclaimed.

Harry chuckled.

“Erotic Chocolate?!” Hermione stammered.

Harry opened the door to “Chocolats Érotiques”, the blackened windows allowed the red illumination to maintain the atmosphere inside. Hermione picked up a chocolate dildo.

“Eww!” Ron said.

Meanwhile, Harry stopped in front of some vanilla chocolate breasts. His hands mimicked the ones on display, his fingers on the glass guard, before he turned and placed them over Gia’s.

“Yours are better,” Harry said.

Gia coughed.

“What about the sling shots?” Ron said, now next to Harry, looking at a display of lacey chocolate brassieres.

“Boys!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Like they’d ever grow out of it,” Gia said, “Hopeless. Reverse the charge though.”

Hermione looked at Gia and grinned.

“What?!” Harry demanded.

Gia shaped her hands as the breasts, pressed them against Harry’s chest. Harry sighed.

“Hers win the contest,” Ron said.

“Thanks,” Harry quipped.

Gia had already turned around and was admiring a light chocolate replica of the Greek statue David.

“Do they do status of anybody?” Gia asked.

“Yes,” said the shopkeeper, looking worried about this strange party, in broken English, “Anybody. Price depends. Pictures.”

Gia studied the price sheet.

“Yes,” the shop keeper said, “Costs.”

“Gia,” Ron said, “What are you planning?”

“Yes,” Gia said, ignoring Ron as she grabbed Harry, pulled him into view of the shop keeper, “Him.”

“Interesting idea,” Hermione said.

“Harry, I need the wallet,” Gia said.

Harry reached into his buttocks, pulled it out, and handed it to her.

A moment later, Gia flashed her credit card, and the shopkeeper nodded. After swiping it, he directed Harry and Gia into the back room. Ron, however, went and stood by Hermione.

“Who’d in their right mind—” Ron started.

“Dunno, it’s the holiday,” Hermione said, “If they want a chocolate statue, they’ll get a chocolate statue.”

A few minutes later, Harry and Gia returned; Gia filled out the paperwork while Harry stood next to Ron examining some liquid chocolate.

“You just consented to a statue,” Ron said, “You realize that, right?”

“It’s not like we’re going to carry it back,” Harry said, “Shipping it to Hermione’s house.”

“What?” Hermione said, glaring at Harry, “Realize the fits my parents would have should that much chocolate arrive.”

“Harry,” Ron said, as he watched Hermione roll her eyes over and over, “I’ll get a House–Elf to do it when we get to Hogwarts. Her parents might like it for their office.”

“Right,” Hermione said slowly, “You don’t know what a dentist does, do you?”

They left the shop.

“So, this statue’s going to have a stiffy?” Ron asked, glancing at Harry’s hard erection, the foreskin fully retracted to show off the slightly faded green glans.

“Supposedly both,” Harry said as his penis began to soften.

Ron spun around as they walked, moved to be walking backward ahead of the others.

“Gotta go!” Ron said, as he gripped his penis, and the torrent flowed, he aimed it at Harry.

“Ron!” Hermione snapped.

Harry giggled as the stream got his leg.

“He..” Ron moved the stream, lobbied the golden jet onto Harry’s foot.

“Boys!” Gia muttered.

“Doesn’t mean it’s—” Hermione protested.

“It’s over,” Ron said as his stream petered.

“Hold it out here,” Hermione said as she and Gia headed into a shop.

“She’s mean—” Ron started.

“You peed—” Harry said, “Thought you didn’t like peeing for—”

“Funny,” Ron said, “My willy doesn’t care anymore.”

Harry snorted.

“Figured a little water fight—” Ron said.

“Just remember,” Harry said, “You started it.” He deflected his own penis and allowed a darker yellow stream to get Ron.


Hermione was standing there, with a camera aimed at them.

“Hermione—” Ron protested.

“You might not like them—” Hermione said as she poked Harry’s chest, “But—we’re—I want to remember this trip too!”


“Yeah,” Gia said as she snapped a picture of Hermione poking Harry.

“But we’re—” Harry protested.

“A thousand cameras have likely captured your todgers already—we’d like copies too,” Hermione said, “And if that was really your concern—”

“Sorry,” Ron said.

“Pardon?” Harry asked.

“Sorry to the girls,” Ron said, “Just chill on it.”

Harry sighed as Gia brought her camera in close to his genitals, accepted the interest his girlfriend showed in him.

Chapter Text

By Friday evening, they had made it to Luxembourg, where they approached an opera house.

“Doesn’t look fun,” Ron said.

“Gia and I will be watching the opera,” Hermione said, “You can meet us afterwards, or, at the hostel. You know where that is?”

“Yeah,” Harry said.

“We’ll see you later,” Hermione said as she and Gia entered the opera house.

Harry sprinted, kicked, his glasses wobbled as he kicked a small can that laid on the street; it skidded across and hit a lamp post.


Harry and Ron walked along the pavement, the heat blasting up at them, street lights shimmered on their skin; their armpits were soaked with sweat.

“Argh!” Ron exclaimed, “It’s boring without the girls!”

“We’ve had fun before without them,” Harry said, “Play with our wands?”

Ron was unsure which wand Harry was referring to, but played it safe.

“In full view of the Muggles?” Ron asked.

Harry got close to Ron, his nose flared.

“Alright,” Harry said, “Flying.”

“Hardly an improvement,” Ron said.

“Get drunk?” Harry asked.

“Blimey! I’m turning into Hermione!” Ron exclaimed.

“Boxing then,” Harry said, stepping up to an advertisement on a lamp post, “Come on.”

Harry sped up, Ron followed.

“What is boxing?” Ron asked.

“Just wait,” Harry said.

Sweat was rolling from parts that they hadn’t realized could sweat, the beads dribbled off of them as they approached a shady building. Light gave a faint rainbow effect from the droplets dripping from Harry’s foreskin, though it wasn’t urination.

“I’ve already sent several to the hospital for heat exhaustion,” the guard said, “So I’ll overlook—are you eighteen?” He studied Harry, whose round glasses had beads of sweat running down them.

“Yes,” Harry said, reaching into his butt crack before handing the guard a banknote.

“What?” Ron asked.

“It’s…” Harry started as they entered, however, stopped as the young crowd drowned them out.

Harry and Ron squeezed into the crowd toward the back; Ron could see over the heads, but Harry was shorter.

“My shoulders,” Ron said, squatting.

“Thanks,” Harry said as he took the jump, sat on Ron’s shoulders. Ron could feel the testicles and the penis being pushed against the back of the neck, but chose to ignore it.

Though some glanced, few seemed to notice or care about Harry or Ron be stark naked; most of the crowd was already shirtless, including some of the young women letting their breasts out, all covered in sweat. Ron pressed inward into the tight crowd, ignored the stray hands that were inadvertently brushing against his pubics, his genitals, as nothing was said.

A scantily clad young woman, with blond hair, played referee to the two male contestants in the ring. The match had yet to start, so her hands were feeling into their tight jockstraps as their hands felt the breasts whose secrets were protected by a thin strap in lieu of a bra. Neither bloke in front of Ron complained about Ron’s hard erection now bumping their hips, nor did Ron pay attention to that, as his eyes were on the stage, tracing the thin line of the cloth on the woman.

One at a time, the two male contestants pressed the tent poles of their jockstraps against the hard point sticking out of the young woman’s thin fabric over her crotch. Cheers came from the crowd as the bell rang, and their wrapped fists started to punch. At first the punches went to the ribcages, the shoulders, before the punches moved downward and aimed for the jockstraps. The blond with the blue jockstrap survived the punch. However, the taller brown haired boy’s red jockstrap ripped, and he blushed as the scrotum hung freely, dangling beneath the partially draped firm uncut column, but he continued on; his jockstrap was quickly removed by the young woman muttering about “health and safety”. Cheers let up from the girls at the new sight of the fellow’s pubic hair.

“Can’t knowingly punch there—” the bloke behind Harry mentioned to another.

“What type—” Ron quipped at Harry.

Even with his cock curving slightly upward, scrotum loose, and edge trimmed pubic hair, wearing nothing save his gloves, the brown hair punched again, this time getting the opponent’s ribcage. The eyes of the blond betrayed his attention, darting frequently to avoid accidental contact, missed seeing the left clip getting his face. Seeking to quickly level the playing field, the blond crouched to the cock level of his opponent, before he sprang upward with a right, flinching as the force tore the remaining jockstrap. As the young woman relieved that second contestant of his blue jockstrap, it became evident from the dark untrimmed pubic hair that the blond of the head was a bleach job.

“And any moment—” the one to Ron’s left started to mutter.

The tall brown haired contestant took another swing, straight for the gut. Nearly immediately, the blond boy bent over, and cheers erupted as the brown sludge began to drop and a squirt of gold pee shot forward. A moment later, the tall brown boy had pushed the cloth off their referee’s crotch, exposing the labia, the clitoris; even more cheers came as he brought the hard cock to push against the folds of skin, about to thrust inward.

Ron felt Harry’s legs really twitching; he glanced up at Harry’s shaking face, the eyes twitching but fixated, mouth starting to move. Ron moved, carried Harry still sitting on his shoulders, out of the crowd. Ron squatted to let Harry down, before standing again. Ron’s eyes studied Harry’s, the bottle green eyes were still glazed over, the jaw rapidly moving up and down. Ron placed his right arm around Harry, the left on the other shoulder.

“Harry,” Ron said, “Come on.”

“All that…” Harry muttered, coming with Ron, “All so pointless.”

They reached the exit.

“What’s the matter?” shouted a young man, nearby, “Babies can’t take a punch?”

Ron ignored the man, guided Harry.

“Harry,” Ron said, “Come on.”

The man walked, followed Harry and Ron for a short distance.

“Gay babies need a lesson in manners!”

Ron turned his head to the man, fist at the ready. Ron channeled his anger into a bit of wandless magic; the man tripped and collapsed onto the pavement. Ron guided Harry to a park, a nice park, with benches and a fountain in the middle. Ron lowered Harry to one of the benches near the fountain, his balls hung off the edge. Ron felt Harry’s forehead, much warmer than Ron liked.

“Cool off,” Ron said, grabbing Harry and pulling him over to the decorative fountain, into the shower of cold water.

“Hermione cleaned us this morning,” Harry said.

“So, what did that remind you of?” Ron asked; he had a hunch.

“You’re prying,” Harry replied.

“It reminded you of something,” Ron said, “Spit it out the easy way.”

“Hogwarts,” Harry said.

Ron knew what Harry was talking about, the brutal violence the Death Eaters had staged during their temporary occupation of the school at the end of their fifth year, fights to the death of the victims over minor design points to their new Hogwarts crest.

“So, why bother going to this?” Ron asked.

“Dunno,” Harry said, “Dudley watches it a lot.”

“Lets get to the girls, even if it means a bit of…” Ron said.

“Don’t say it,” Harry said.

Harry and Ron returned to the opera house. With the show nearly over, Harry and Ron slipped in. They pushed Hermione and Gia apart as they sat.

“So,” Hermione said, “You still claim this isn’t interesting?”

“Maybe it’s you,” Ron said, softly, “Did you realize that Harry goes through a painful withdrawal every time he’s separated from Gia?”

“I can only imagine,” Hermione said dryly as she rolled her eyes.

It was shortly before noon on Saturday when they caught the train to Paris.

“I’m hungry,” Ron said.

Gia grabbed the wallet from Harry, joined Ron in heading for the dining car. Harry, however, had his eyes on Hermione’s, and hers were fleeting about, avoiding him.

“Hermione,” Harry said.

She forced her eyes onto his bottle green eyes. Harry spread his legs apart, brought the feet onto the seat so his legs were bent, and pushed them apart.

“Look at my dick,” Harry said.

“Pardon?” Hermione asked.

“You’re still uneasy—” Harry said, “Just give it, say an hour—” he moved his right hand, which caused her eyesight to drift downward, “Yes, an hour and a roll of parchment, give me the number of pubic hairs, their locations, and where. Include a nice description of everything.”

“You!” Hermione snapped.

“Just watch these,” Harry said as he momentarily grabbed his genitals, “I think it’ll do you good.”

“Always a reason,” Hermione said.

Hermione, however, did not wish to disappoint her friend, and her instinct to not to look was overcome by the curiosity of the count; her eyes started with the right edge of his thick crop of pubic hair, mostly still a faded bottle green but with black roots. A slight jiggle from a rough rail resulted in her attention going to his soft penis with the fading green showing as his foreskin was retracted. A minute later, her eyes flickered to notice the hairs growing in his scrotum, similar to what she’s seen in Ron’s, but this was Harry, her best friend, not her partner. She shivered slightly when his sausage started to enlarge, his eyes were aimed down the corridor where Gia was returning.

“Interrupting?” Gia asked.

Harry shook his head, his eyes returned toward Hermione’s. Hers caught his glance, his eyebrows moving, so she returned her concentration back to his growing erection. Harry gripped his hard flesh with his fingers, his eyes were primarily focused on Gia, however, he was frequently checking Hermione’s eyes. Hermione did as he had asked, kept her eyes on his sexuality, as he gripped his shaft, as his foreskin slipped up and down, repeatedly, the green glans exposed and hidden with his overt masturbatory motion; his testicles seemed to grow, turned pinker, until his ridge underneath pumped in volume.

It wasn’t until Harry’s first wad of semen that Hermione understood Harry’s point. Hermione was concerned with her own exposure and the possible misinterpretation as being naked could often do. She realized that Harry didn’t want this to bother them, that he was getting a thrill of simply sharing himself with his friends, he didn’t wish to hide it from her; for if he were concerned, he already had plenty of options of covering up, and nobody would’ve said a word. Instead, he was more concerned that she was offended as he kept showing off the sticky evidence of his orgasm.

“I think I need a drink,” Hermione said.

“Sure,” Harry said.

Hermione got up, went down the corridor, contemplating it all. Harry hadn’t changed since she had first met him; well, he had grown, obviously, but that boy was still in there, desiring her and Ron as friends, unconditionally loving them and seeking that love in return. Sure, he had blood relatives, but those weren’t his family, not his real family. She and Ron had become his family, and Gia was coming into the fold too; Harry had no other and was eager to share. Hermione strolled back from the dining car carrying her light wine, and she gave it a small sip.

“Nice outfit.” Hermione felt a light slap against her buttocks.

“Pardon—?!” Hermione started as she turned toward a young man looking her over.

“Sorry,” he said, sheepishly, his eyes tried to avoid the candy, “Why are you—”

“Like I was going to talk to a complete stranger—”

“Did he kick you out?”

“No—” Hermione said, “…nothing like…”

“Didn’t mean to—is it interesting?” While his shorts kept his erection wrapped, its form caused him to blush upon realizing that she glanced upon it. He adjusted his shorts, scrunching them in the hope that the folds in the fabric would blend it into his thigh. “Sorry—if this bothers…”

“My boyfriend—”

“Oh.” He sunk down in the seat, his short blond hair failed to hide his deepening pink blushing. “He shouldn’t force—”

Hermione snorted, the first bit of wine was already working, and she sat onto the back edge of the seat in front of him. She gave another sip of her wine, before she had the urge to dump on a stranger.

“While he encouraged—my fault really,” Hermione said, “Not that we planned for the prank—”

“Prank—” He said as he raised his eyebrows.

“Gia and I—we had wanted to—” Hermione said, “We got them—so we thought—pranking them into some streaking and we intended to get them—”

“Them?” the boy asked, his eyes drifted across her breasts.

“My school chums, Harry and Ron,” Hermione said, “We were going—after the first train—hectic and packed. They…don’t know why they didn’t… long story short, our loads got lightened.”

He snorted as he glanced at her folds, he rearranged the cramped flesh and allowed his gray briefs to poke the tent pole out of the front flap of his shorts.

“Haven’t the police—” he started.

“Dunno why they haven’t—” she said as she studied the slender chest form of his T–shirt, “We’ve passed numerous—some happy with issuing citations—well, until somebody complains—”

“Doubt they would—” the boy blurted.

“Several days ago—you staring—I would’ve—it’s still—I’m aware…you like looking—”

“I’m not a perv—” the boy said, defensively.

“Aren’t acting gay—” Hermione said as she leaned back momentarily.

“You’re acting—” the boy quipped.

“Be careful with your todger—” Hermione started.

“Is he bugging you?” Ron asked as he came up.

The boy clenched the gray cloth wrapping his statue as he saw Ron’s bright blue pubic hair and the normal genitals with his dark blue glans coming into view.

“Did I catch the wrong train—Paris??” the boy stuttered.

“My arse will be the cleanest part,” Ron stated.

Hermione snorted.

“Admiring?” Ron asked.

“N—No—Definitely—” the boy stuttered in a trembled voice.

“Then I’m offended,” Ron said, “She’s…” He let his snake grow a bit as he glanced at the nipples and half crescent of Hermione’s breasts.

“Didn’t mean to—” the boy said, his blush grew deep, his hand massaged over the gray statue.

“So why—” asked a girl sitting behind Hermione, in the next row over.

“Ron—” Hermione started.

“Checking up on you,” Ron whispered, “Missing naked chick—”

“Don’t press your luck—” Hermione snapped.

“Come back when you’re done,” Ron said. Ron let his erection fly with pride as his flexing buttocks were studied as he left the compartment. Hermione retreated, her eyes caught the grimace of the boy, but turned her attention to the girl.

“You’re casual—” the girl said.

The boy sighed and both girls looked over. A light liquid oozed through the gray fabric and he pulled down at the hem of his shorts to catch the last of his ejaculation surging into a puddle trail in his pubic hair.

“It’d be worse if you walk,” Hermione said as she turned back to the girl, “Better mop up—”

“He just used you—” the girl a noticed him tearing at his briefs, “—and you—”

Hermione slid down into the seat opposite the twenty year old girl, the dark blouse was a bit billowy about the big frame.

“Does it bother—” Hermione said, “A little, but I’m focused on ignoring—”


“You’re focusing on the negatives,” Hermione said, “I suppose it’s liberating—not certain exactly why it feels better. And watching that bloke—great fun as todgers fail to lie.”

“Hanging your knockers out—”

“Deflate their imaginations gently,” Hermione said, she noted as the boy attempted to hide his stiffy as he stood, “The first hour was perhaps the worst—worried about what others thought—now I just hope it’s brushed—”

“It’s alright,” the girl said.

“And by—” the boy started to reach.


The boy withdrew his hand.

“You’re inviting—” the girl said.

“My fingernails can slice his sack, his own self–interest,” Hermione said, “—let’s demonstrate—”

“Not necessary,” the boy said as he quickly left the compartment to their giggles.

“Would you really—” the girl asked.

“I shall defend myself, as needed,” Hermione said, “If they abuse things, they lose them.”

“Fair enough,” the girl said.

Hermione stood, found her way back to Ron, Harry, and Gia. Both Ron and Harry were standing in front of Gia, spread legs, to show off their jiggling testicles. Hermione sat, watched, and found both boys showing them to her too. She smiled, and both boys returned the smile. Hermione had to admit to herself that she and Gia did want to see more of Ron and Harry on the trip, and they were getting much more than they had bargained on. She realized that Harry was spot on, that they shouldn’t care one way or the other, but simply enjoy the company, something she was going have difficulties doing.

After a delay, the train stopped in Paris in the early evening, and they went out through the turnstiles.

“Oh!” Hermione said, “I was really meaning to—”

“We can use one of their loos—” Harry said, pointing at a restroom with a price tag displayed on it.

“Not quite that desperate,” Hermione said.

They had learned to ignore the glances, which they kept ignoring as they left the station. A half mile later, Ron stumbled and lifted his foot.

“Starkers isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be,” Ron said as he pried some gum off his sole.

“Others might say it’s definitely cracked up,” Harry said as he glanced at Ron’s buttock for a quick moment.

“Not funny,” Ron stated.

“Nor is having to use—” Hermione said as she started to hop.

“We offered—” Ron snapped.

“I didn’t anticipate—” Hermione protested.

“Then go here—” Harry said.

“It might attract—” Hermione said.

“How?!” Harry spun around as the fellow pedestrians kept surveying them as they passed. “We’re already starkers—”

“He’s got—” Gia snapped.

“That’s nice of you!” Hermione retorted.

Ron pushed on Hermione’s shoulders; she didn’t resist the urge to squat in the middle of the sidewalk. A trickle started as some other young adolescent males grinned and snickered as the stream came forth. Neither Ron nor Harry kept their snakes tame, nor did they hide their stiffening dicks as the golden shower sprinkled and coursed onto the concrete.

“Ta,” Hermione said, sarcastically, as she glanced at the hard erections.

“It’s a beautiful sight,” Ron observed as the puddle was ebbing toward the road.

“Why stop?” Gia noticed Hermione attempting to halt the flow.

“We concur,” one of the adolescent males said, his camera took a picture. Hermione pulled her labia apart and allowed the remainder to dribble out. She glared at Ron as she stood up fast.

“Are you done?” Ron asked.

“Yes!” Hermione snapped, angrily, as she resumed walking.

“No time wasted looking for a toilet,” Harry said, matter of factly, as the continued.

“Not the most friendly—” Hermione said.

“Send them a bill for power washing—” Gia said, “Likely the cleanest—”

“Yep,” Harry said.

Hermione glared at Harry, his sausage loosened and started to drop.

“No soiled trousers—” Harry started.

“I didn’t said I—” Hermione protested.

“So,” Gia said, changing the topic, “Where are we headed—”

As Harry and Hermione sorted out a map at a bus stop, Ron took a backward push and put him onto the back of an occupied bench for the bus.

he lady did not move, but merely glanced as Ron’s buttocks and scrotum dangled over the bench as he thighs supported him on the bench back.

“I suppose we’re trying to find a spot to sleep?” Ron asked.

“How observant,” Hermione said.

“First order of business,” Harry said.

Ron ignored the pressure buildup as a bus came to a halt by the bench, the lady stood.

Pfffpt! Pfffpt!

“If you need to use the loo—” Hermione started, seeing the passengers on the bus watching Ron’s butt.

“We were already…” Ron stopped as the first round of sludge moved, started to creep out of him as he began to defecate.

“Um…” Gia said, “There’s a difference—”

“Not that I’m condoning—” Harry said as the long turd slowly descended from Ron’s arse, “—however, when he’s got to go—”

Ron’s face turned a deep pink as the first long chunk broke off and the next one kept coming through.

“Feel better?” Hermione asked.

“Ta—” Ron muttered.

“No point in stopping until you’re done,” Harry observed.

A constable walked past them as Ron continued, the eyes glanced at the sludge piling up, but continued down the road.

“Now that’s just creepy,” Harry said.

Ron continued for another minute before it became small chunks and he halted it.

“We know where we want to go,” Hermione stated

Ron hopped off the bench and they continued.

“We saved time,” Ron said.

Ron snuck out of the room that evening, found his way onto the closed roof cafe, came to a table, when he reached into his butt crack to pull out the journal, quill, and ink; he sat. Under the aura of the glow of street lights on the pollution above, Ron began to write.

6 July 1996

Yep, something is definitely a miss. I took a crap on that bench in full view of a copper; like he saw it but took no action. I’m hesitant to tell Harry that Dumbledore is interfering—or watching—but whatever the reason, it’s definitely nice.

Maybe this is what it takes to coax Harry to let his guard down enough to finally bang Gia?

Sunday morning, they came to the queue for entrance into the Louvre , Hermione surveyed the line.

“Breakfast should not have waited,” Hermione said.

“Go get something,” Harry said, “It’s not like this is going that fast—you’ve got time. We’ll keep your place.”

Gia joined Hermione in wandering off.

“Can’t believe they persuaded us—” Harry said to Ron.

“I know, I know…” Ron paused and urinated where he stood, the stream wobbled slightly, “But hey—it is faster to not worry about it.”

“True,” Harry said, “Just like you’re not concerned—”

“Like it?” Ron said, watching Harry roll his eyes, “Pooping for show is tough the first time or two—”

“Not certain if—” Harry said, “Thanks a lot, now I—”

“It’s not as if the streets are clean,” Ron said.

“There’s more—” Harry said.

“Quit whining,” Ron stated as he pulled on Harry’s shoulders. Harry squatted and felt his pressure move. Others in the queue curled their noses as Harry let his turds move. He finished up with a slight power wash and stood back up.

“You’re right—” Harry said, “Much faster than finding a loo.”

The queue started to move as Gia and Hermione came back. Harry let his dick go first as it raised to attention, beneath the nearly black pubic hair as the green was nearly gone. Ron shrugged, his dick firmed up too.

“Glad you missed us,” Hermione said.

“You might want to think about using it,” Gia said to Harry.

“It likes the sunshine,” Harry said, smiling.

They entered the Louvre and went down the escalator.

“What about flying?” Ron asked.

“These things don’t fly,” Hermione said.

Harry laughed.

“It’s not funny,” Hermione said.

“Yes it is,” Harry replied.

“It’s a nice place,” Gia said, wrapping her arms around Harry from behind, pushing her breasts into him, and putting her chin on his shoulder.

“Yeah, it can be,” Harry said as her hands cradled his testicles, her thumbs rested on his penis, “Carry on.”

“You do that,” Ron said, “He needs… the talk.”

Harry and Gia took off into the corridors.

“You had to say that,” Hermione said.

“Well, he does,” Ron said, “They’ve got the hots but Harry’s not willing to commit.”

Hermione clearly had a bucket list as she brought Ron onto the elevator, they went up to the third floor. She led Ron into the Salle des États room, coming to a stop in front of the famous painting, the Mona Lisa .

“It’s so dull,” Ron said, “They don’t even move.”

“Muggle paintings,” Hermione said, “Of course they don’t move.”

“They ought to move,” Ron said.

Ron moved slowly with Hermione. Harry, meanwhile, kept pace with Gia, who was a bit less interested in the artwork and more into her company. They came to a halt in the room with the Greek statues.

“Gotta catch me!” Gia exclaimed, breaking into a run.

Harry ran, kept his pace, as watching her buttocks flex was interesting. His erection came fast as she ran through the exhibits, up the stairs. Harry chased, until they came into a section of decorative arts, furniture. Harry tackled her, they fell onto the antique sofa, putting her on her back, him on top. Harry’s hard cock touched her folds, but he stopped, let it rest, and leaned in, forward, on top of her, and kissed.

“Whatchya waiting for?” Gia said, “I’m not staying put.”

Harry eased up, let her slip, gave her a moment, before following. They ran among the paintings on the second floor, ran along the first past Ron and Hermione. Harry, however, kept running.

“Blimey!” Ron muttered.

They ran back down the steps, coming to the Greek statues, where Gia came to a fast halt. Harry wrapped himself around her back, letting his hard erection tease her buttocks, his hands held her breasts.

“Proper athletes,” Gia said.

Harry studied the naked statues.

“Guess so,” Harry said.

“Doesn’t that give you ideas?” Gia said, turning around to face Harry.

“Yeah,” Harry said.

“Let yourself go,” Gia said, “I want you to indulge yourself with me, but you’re a damn monk!”

“We’ve done more,” Harry said.

“Then prove it,” Gia said, “I need a sign from you that there is more than a bit of fun and games, that you’re more serious.”

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” Harry said.

“I’m willing to take that chance,” Gia said, “Are you?”

“I know the consequences,” Harry said, he hugged her tight, pushed his head against her large breasts.

“Jump,” Gia said as she held onto his hard erection, “And avoid the consequences.”

“It’s tough,” Harry replied.

“You’re clearly interested,” Gia said, her fingers worked his glans a bit, “How far can you go? Care to find out?”

“I do love you,” Harry said.

“I need proof, Mr. Hairy Harry,” Gia said, “Catch.”

Gia twisted out of Harry’s grip and ran, up the stairs; Harry followed. They pushed between the crowds, raced through the rooms, passed Ron and Hermione, again, and kept running. Gia knew how ridiculous this was, making Harry chase her, his hard erection swinging and swaying in the eyes of many, the testicles bobbing around, as they kept making laps of the museum; they returned to the floor with the naked Greek statues, where Harry sprinted, held her tight. Harry kissed her.

“How much longer am I going to have to wait?” Gia asked.

They walked along, to the Egyptian artifacts section.

“It will come,” Harry promised, “Here.”

Harry pulled Gia down to the floor; people yielded, as he straddled her. He brought his tongue into her mouth as they kissed. He arched his back, lowering his buttocks, and let his balls rest on her stomach, erection aimed toward her.

“Until then,” Harry said.

Harry had to lift his head as he pushed himself forward, resting the hard cock between her tits. She pressed them together, and Harry flexed his hips to let his erection drill, under the watchful eyes of the crowd around them. Harry felt the spasms start, followed by the release of the pressure, when his beads of white drenched her chin and her neck.

“Better?” Harry asked.

“It’s not in me,” Gia said, “You need to satisfy me.”

“Soon,” Harry said, “Soon.”

Harry moved his groin, brought the softening cock to her lips. Gia kissed the semen coated pink glans, the dye having faded away.

“Dull,” Ron said, standing nearby and pretending to be more interested in the tombs, “I’ve seen better in Egypt. These have been stripped.”

“You tell the curator,” Harry said, “I think it’s about time for dinner, meet you back at our room, Gia and I need a little privacy.”

“Oh, now you need it, alright,” Ron said, pretending he hadn’t seen their public display, “See you later.”

Ron eventually found Hermione, they left, had dinner, before returning to their hotel room near the Eiffel Tower. Harry was standing there, watching out of the window, every strand of his hair was now bright yellow.

“Again?” Hermione asked.

“Turn around,” Gia said to Harry.

Harry turned, showed that Gia did not miss a strand, including his head, his armpits, his arm hairs, his pubic hairs, and even the ones on his legs. He retracted his foreskin, showing the deep yellow glans.

“Quit that Harry,” Ron said, “Blue was bad enough.”

“Gryffindor colors,” Hermione suggested.

“She might turn you red,” Harry said.

“I’m already red!” Ron stammered.

“No, more of a purple,” Gia said.

“Thanks!” Ron snapped.

Ron left the loo shortly after midnight when Gia headed toward the door of the hotel room; she twisted the knob and left. Harry and Hermione were quiet, sleeping in in the bed, as Ron followed Gia out.

“Doesn’t matter,” Gia said.

“Yes it does,” Ron said as they left the hotel.

“I just needed to clear my head, to think,” Gia said.

“Fine, I’ll keep quiet,” Ron said.

“Doubt you could manage that,” Gia said.

“Don’t leave my sight,” Ron stated.

“You guys are always doing that!” Gia snapped.

“Here, let’s sit,” Ron said, pointing to a small lawn.

They sat, side by side, on the grass.

“Harry doesn’t want any of us being by ourselves, especially you,” Ron said, “He loves you, he simply loves you, and he cherishes you. He’s worried, of course, that something’ll happen to you because you’re his girlfriend. To him, that final act to seal the deal, it’ll seal your fate too, and he doesn’t want that to happen.”

“Has he told you what I’ve told him, that I need commitment?” Gia said, “I’m trusting myself to him and he needs to understand that.”

“It’ll happen,” Ron said, “Maybe that was his point in the trip? Still, you’re already known as his girlfriend, so things will change.”

“You keep mentioning that,” Gia said, “He’s well known—”

Ron snorted.

“I think there’s something you need to see,” Ron said, “He won’t like it, of course.”

“What?” Gia asked.

“I’m needling him too,” Ron said, “You deserve him, and—it’s a bit selfish.”

“You’re being selfish?” Gia asked.

“We’re friends and all, but if he seals the deal with you, means I’m definitely clear with Hermione,” Ron said, “Can’t have us both claiming her.”

“Aw,” Gia said, “That explains you.”

“Not really, he’s still my friend, I want him to be happy with you,” Ron said

They left the Arc De Triomphe , rode the metro, and walked away from the Notre Dame Cathedral . They passed one man using a wall as a loo, and were laughing. Harry was walking backward, in front of Gia, fingers on his penis, peeing, as Gia skipped out of the target. A block later, a few from Notre Dame, they came to a faded black door along with a small faded black wall and covered dirty windows. Gia’s fingers had already teased Harry’s erection to jut firmly outward.

“Must be it,” Ron said.

“Must be what?” Harry asked.

A faded black sign with a pointed hat momentarily shined to life as they came to it, it read, Chapeau Raccordé .

“Harry, you’ve got to see this,” Hermione said, “It’s their equivalent to the Leaky Cauldron. Fancy a look?”

Hermione pushed the door open; they entered an old looking pub with a big fireplace to one end. People in robes and cloaks glared at these strangers, the old man behind the bar pointed a wand at the naked teenagers.

“Vous n’étes pas voulu, ne sortez pas!”

“Huh?” Ron said.

“Muggles are not welcome,” Hermione whispered.

“We’re naked—” Harry muttered.

“Now you want to dress?” Hermione snapped, quiet but terse.

“Muggles are not welcome,” the barkeeper said, repeating Hermione’s translation, still holding his wand.

“I’m a Wizard,” Harry said, “We stumbled across this place and fancied a look.”

Harry reached into his butt and pulled out his wand, eyes moved from his yellow pubic hair to his holly wand as he levitated a nearby saucer. Several nearby witches giggled as the wand was near his hard erection, foreskin retracted, with his dyed glans with a bit of pink on his slit showing.

“Sorry,” the barkeeper said, putting his wand away, “You look like Muggles, your hair and all.”

“Trying to blend in,” Hermione said, “With those outside.”

A lady who was sitting at the bar asked, “Where are you from?”

“England,” Harry said.

“There’s more to this,” Hermione whispered, pointing.

Harry had a sense of trepidation start to brew in him; one word that he was the Harry Potter, and his hard erection would become front page news. Outside, they were anonymous, among muggles; here, one bad utterance and his measurements would become gossip. Harry was disappointed, the fear, the nerves, instead fueled his penis, the penis wanted to bask in the attention; the eyes surveyed, sized him up, watched as his flesh swung up and down, with such curiosity that one might think the crowd had never seen a penis before. Harry’s stiffness drew more attention than Ron’s soft penis dangling as they walked, made for the back.Hermione opened the back door, the entered a small, fenced in, courtyard, too small to comfortably fit the four of them. Hermione tapped her wand on the brick wall, and the walls pulled apart to show the rows of shops.

“Smaller than Diagon,” Ron said.

“Same idea,” Harry said, “Look!” He pointed at Quality Quidditch Supplies, Paris .

“Remember,” Gia said, now holding Harry’s hard cock, “Want to get rid of that?”

“In a bit,” Harry said.

Harry and Ron went into Quality Quidditch Supplies . Meanwhile, Gia and Hermione continued.

“Need any gift ideas?” Hermione asked.

Gia shook her head before they stopped in front of another shop, Unofficial Harry Potter Fan Club Outlet Direct .

“Didn’t realize—” Gia said as she and Hermione entered.

“He knows you love him,” Hermione said, “Though you can always read up.”

They were in front of a display of literature. Gia picked up a glossy Harry Potter Quarterly , opened it, revealing hundreds of pictures of her and Harry.

“Where’d they get these?” Gia said, putting it back aside.

“A determined witch gets her way, unfortunately,” Hermione said.

“I’d like to understand him,” Gia said, touching the Understanding Harry Potter leather bound book by Doris Crockford in English and French, “How does he cope?” Next to the leather book was Speculation on Harry Potter’s Victory .

“Dunno really,” Hermione said, “Though you could get a scar too—”

Gia snorted.

“Really.” Hermione pointed at the racks of various articles for a person to look like Harry Potter, from the raven black wigs in assorted sizes to glasses to scar tattoos to Hogwarts robes with the Gryffindor lion and beyond. “Let’s show him.”

“I don’t think that’d be a good idea,” Ron said, entering.

“This place?” Harry said, following Ron in, “Quality was better!”

“Yes, but there’s a couple points of beauty here,” Ron said, stepping to stand behind Hermione.

“I figured she might be interested in some reading,” Hermione said, “Think the bookstore has better.”

Hermione and Gia made for the exit. Harry and Ron were nearly there when the witch behind the counter spoke, an adult witch with a youthful face and flowery robes.

“You must be new,” a witch coming out from behind the counter said, “Why not try a wig to get your hair just right.”

Ron grabbed a raven black and wild haired wig from the stacks in the organized bins sorted by head size. The witch kept her eyes on the hard erection.

“No,” Harry said, “My hair looks right.”

“You’ve obviously got the scar tattoo and the glasses,” the witch said, “if you’ve went this far, you should go all the way to look like Harry Potter, which means black hair.”

“No,” Ron said, “I think that means yellow hair right now.”

“Need a scar?” the witch asked, pointing to the box of rub–on tattoos next to boxes of round glasses and wigs.

“Nope,” Ron said, “We’ll be leaving.”

Ron took a step, bumped into a rack of black Hogwarts robes with the Gryffindor lion, the rack came crashing down.

“So,” the witch asked Ron, “you think you know Harry Potter better? I can tell you that I’ve studied him since, well, the incident with You–Know–Who.”

“You mean,” Harry said, “Voldemort.”

The witch flinched and said, “You said his name!”

“Of course he did,” Ron said, “Harry always does.”

Harry said, “Ron—”

“My, my,” the witch said, “We have two fans acting the roles, including Potter’s sidekick friend Weasley. However, you don’t quite seem to get it. Are you members of UHP?”

She grabbed a couple of membership forms and packets from the right edge of the counter.

“Members?” Harry said, “Why would I be a member of my own fan club?”

“Great impersonation,” the witch said, “Can I interest you in a statue? Briefs maybe? Or his school Quidditch robes?” She pointed to the various object to include a marble statue of what somebody thought a nude Harry would look like. Other statues were there, such as smaller ones of Harry on a Firebolt during Quidditch. “Harry Potter doesn’t run around naked.”

“A gift from Harry Potter,” Harry said, “Since you can’t tell the real one from a fake.”

Harry gripped his erection, aimed, and peed. He zigzagged the stream across her flowery robes, marking them, as her eyes began to flash. Ron grabbed Harry, dragged him out of the shop, still pissing.

“That was getting to me,” Harry said.

“I know,” Ron said, ushering Harry toward the bookshop. They entered.

Flesh was easy to spot, and they found Hermione and Gia near the Muggle Relations section. Harry sneaked up on Gia from behind, placed his hard erection between her legs.

“Planning to use that Mister?” Gia asked.

“Just trying it on for size,” Harry said.

“Go back outside and shout out your name,” Hermione said, “You’d get plenty of assistance and some pictures to capture the moment, maybe even that witch would give you a prop or two.”

“I don’t need help!” Harry said.

“You’re fooling me,” Gia said.

“It’ll happen,” Harry said.

“When?” Gia asked.

“It will, I promise!” Harry said, “Enough of that, I’m done here.”

“You get to carry anything you buy,” Ron said to Hermione.

“I was hoping for a gift, Ron,” Hermione said.

“Yeah, but not today,” Ron said.

“It’s getting hot here,” Harry said, “Gia, lets go.”

Harry made the first steps to leave the bookshop, Gia followed. Ron and Hermione carried up the rear.

“There you are,” said the witch from the previous shop, “Take this.” She offered a Guide to Being Harry Potter . “It’ll help you smarten up your act.”

“NO!” Harry chucked the book to the ground before they returned to the pub. Quickly, they left for muggle Paris.

“It’s fucking annoying,” Harry said loudly, “Soo many people on this planet think they know me better than I do!”

“Most are wrong,” Ron said, “Take that statue, it’s obvious the sculptor never really saw you. The chest was a pathetic attempt and the todger—nothing on you.”

“Which one was better?” Gia asked as they crossed an intersection.

“Marble is soo cold,” Ron said, “You’d prefer the real ones.”

“You never answered her question,” Harry asked, “Your opinion?”

“Mate,” Ron said, “Which do you think is better?”

“The statue,” Hermione said, a stern look was on her face.

That earned Hermione a thump on the arm from Harry.

“You’re the one who thought to show me that!” Harry snapped.

“Totally overdone,” Gia said, “To get the true Harry, why bother with the clothes?”

They turned right.

“Did they realize that was you or were they more interested in your dick?” Hermione asked.

“Hermione!” Harry snapped.

“Dress if it bothers you,” Hermione said.

“Actually,” Ron said, “It’s bloody brilliant—”

“Ronald—” Hermione started.

“It is!” Ron turned to give Harry a couple of light fists to the left shoulder. “With everybody looking at the penis—nobody was checking the forehead.”

“Now it’s security?!” Hermione exclaimed.

“It’s brilliant, this is,” Harry said, as he snorted with partial laughter, “Going incognito by flashing my genitals to everybody! Like nobody notices us going naked—”

“Oh they do notice that we’re stark naked, so don’t get me wrong,” Ron said, “And I hope they like what they see—meanwhile, that’s their focus—because your—sorry—your scar gives you away mate. Pubic hair, though—don’t shave it away, because it helps draw the eyes, fast.”

“He’s got a point,” Gia said, smiling.

With that, they started counting the number of times their features were examined as they passed people by.

“One,” Harry said, pointing.

“Two to five,” Ron said, pointing to a small group of teenagers, a boy and three girls.

They were over a hundred when they came to a busy intersection where they paused for the pedestrian signal. A middle aged lady was standing there when she started to steal glances at Harry’s hard penis, the one Gia had touched once again to keep firm; Harry caught onto this and snickered. The lady glanced again, so Harry turned, arched back a bit, pointed, drawing her eyes on her blushing face onto his hard cock. Harry wobbled his hips, the cock bounced, her eyes tried to avoid but kept feasting for more. Harry gripped, her eyes still on his slit as the liquid seeped, a trickle started, the light of the impending sunset glimmered off his golden surge; her eyes locked on as his jet stream flowed, when the walk signal went. She kept glancing as he started to cross, the stream wobbled and came to a trickle as he urinated in the crosswalk. She came to a stop to wait for the next signal while Harry kept his group moving forward.

Ron snorted.

“How many dozens saw you” Ron asked.

“It’s a contest?!” Hermione stammered.

“Shouldn’t we stop worrying about this?” Gia asked.

“I had to go!” Harry snapped.

“Just stop this nonsense!” Gia said, “It’s just easier—”

“Sorry,” Hermione muttered.

Harry was the first into shower when they came back to their hotel room.

“It’s clear he wants to, but he’s not,” Gia said.

“There are spells, potions that could help him along,” Hermione said.

“No, go to dinner, we’ll catch up,” Ron said.

Hermione and Gia left the room; Ron went into the bathroom.

“I was going to ask Gia to suck on my dick,” Harry said from the shower stall, “Wasn’t expecting you to volunteer.”

“She wants to do more than suck it,” Ron said, “She wants these—” Ron reached into the shower, his hand went behind the loose testicles, held onto them, “—use them before she loses interest.”

“You’re interested,” Harry snapped.

“No!” Ron said, retracting his hand, “As your friend, I don’t want them going blue on you, alright?”

“I bumped our reservation out another night, so I’ve got a plan!” Harry said, “Trust me and butt out.”

“Fine,” Ron said, “I was thinking ropes, you know, let Gia have her way with you.”

“Glad you’ve thought this through!” Harry snapped.

“Just watching your back,” Ron said, “I’ll leave you to play with yourself.”

“I suggest taking your broom out of your arse!” Harry retorted.

Ron left the bathroom.

Chapter Text

Gia laid in the bathtub Tuesday morning, the ninth of July. Harry’s knees were on the edges of the tub, straddling her; his hands were working the apple shampoo into her hair. Her eyes watched the slow drips from his soft penis, her right hand behind the testicles, holding them. Hermione was sitting on the toilet, while Ron was leaning back against the sink.

“You changed our departure date?” Hermione said, “You could’ve said—”

“It’s only the ninth,” Harry said, “How far is it to Romania? We can afford to go slower. More importantly, because it’s the ninth, that means it’s Gia’s birthday. Happy Birthday.”

“Always good to respect the one holding your balls,” Ron said, in a matter–of–fact tone.

“Just talk to us Harry,” Hermione said, “That’s enough reason to not spend the day on the train.”

“Sorry, didn’t think of that,” Harry said.

“We can tell how you’re thinking,” Hermione said as Harry’s dick sprung up, stiff, as he was massaging, washing, Gia’s tits.

“While you figure out what to do with that,” Ron said, “We’ll be getting breakfast. Hermione.”

“I’ll be a moment,” Hermione said.

Ron left the bathroom.

Crowds had already formed, vendors were already there hawking souvenirs, as the teenagers approached the Eiffel Tower. Harry walked carefully as Gia’s hand was holding his hard erection.

“I guess I can do this again,” Hermione said, “It’s nice to look around with a view.”

“My Firebolt can do that,” Ron said.

“And be seen!” Hermione protested.

“I’ve never gone up before,” Gia said, relaxing her grip on the erection, instead moved to tickling Harry’s testicles.

Slowly, the line snaked underneath the base, until they paid for their tickets, and got onto the elevator on one of the legs to the tower. Ron moved his head, watched the glass doors slide shut, watched the machinery move the elevator up the leg of the tower at a sideway slant.

“Amazing,” Ron said.

“Only nine tons of steel,” the operator said.

“Nine tons?” Gia asked.

“Yes,” the operator said as the elevator pulled up to the second level.

Gia maintained her grip on Harry’s genitals, feeling a bit into his pubic hair with her pinking, as they got out on the second level. They fought the crowd and got into line for the center elevators to the top.

Gia jostled Harry’s balls, her finger teased his foreskin.

“Are you going to be playing with him all day?” Hermione asked.

“Yes,” Gia said.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“She wanted to and it’s her birthday,” Harry said, “No sticky messes though.”

“Heaven forbid,” Hermione snidely said.

“Care to do that for me?” Ron said, “Sticky mess is fine.”

“No!” Hermione snapped.

“It’ll help sort him out,” Gia whispered to Hermione.

“If he can’t take that hint—” Hermione said, “I’ve got a trick or two.”

“No tricks,” Ron said.

Hermione coughed at the smoke from the nearby smokers when they walked into the elevator. In a couple of moments, they were at the top.

“Cool!” Ron said, as they climbed up to the top deck. Harry noted the face of Ron, the joy on his face.

“Look at the pollution,” Hermione said, drearily, “Hard to see anything.”

“It’s still nice,” Gia said, “Though I’ve got the best grip on things.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Hermione said.

They spent an hour strolling around the platform, including enjoying themselves with the use of one of the pay telescopes. Eventually Harry came to a halt, his eyes aimed to the ceiling of the top deck, to trapdoor and its ladder.

“Nice ladder,” Harry said loudly, “Can we go up?”

“No,” a nearby security guard said, “You need safety equipment up there so that’s why the trapdoor has an alarm and is well locked. Nobody can go up there.”

After a bit more time, they returned to the central elevators, went down to the second level before making their way to the slanted elevators in the corner, descending to the bottom of the tower.

“Whoa!” Harry said, “That was close.”

Gia idled the hand for a moment; it returned to motion, this time, focusing on combing Harry’s yellow pubic hair.

“I think we get the point!” Hermione said.

“It’s very relaxing,” Gia said, “You ought to try it.”

“Yeah, can you?” Ron asked Hermione.

“No!” Hermione snapped.

“Your loss,” Ron said.

“He needs relaxing,” Harry said to Gia, “Mind?”

“Another day, perhaps,” Gia said.

“Gia!” Hermione snapped.

“Just because you don’t want to play with your toys—” Gia started.

“My dick’s not a toy,” Ron said.

“Yes it is,” Gia said, “Though, think I’ve got the right one today.”

“Just a moment,” Harry said.

Harry and Gia paused, Gia held the penis as Harry peed. Hermione rolled her eyes.

It was the middle of the afternoon when they arrived at the theater. Hermione bought the tickets from the office; and they walked up the black steps into the quaint theater.

“Do you know what the show is?” Hermione asked as they crossed the lobby.

“No,” Harry said, “That waitress recommended it, seemed a good idea to take it given that we don’t understand French.”

They entered the house through the center double doors; it was small, a few seats deep crammed as close to the stage as possible.

“Which means,” Gia said, “We’re probably in for a surprise.”

Gia gently tugged on Harry’s hard cock, guided him down the right aisle, moved into the center seats of the front row. Harry leaned his seat backward, legs were spread. Gia’s hand stayed curled around the hard erection jutting upward and leaned into Harry, their tongues tap danced as the curtain began to rise.

A play, with naked actors and actresses were on the stage. Girls, older teenagers, paraded around, singing in French, and making no secret of the vulva between their legs.

“It’s a sex show disguised as a romantic drama!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Enjoy it,” Gia said, her eyes were more on Harry than the show.

Ron picked up on her and Harry’s vibes, he leaned over, began to give Hermione an oral examination.

“They’re hotter than the play,” a teenage boy in the row behind whispered to a girl next to him, “They have a nice idea, want to try?”

The girl shoved him away, got up, and stormed out of the theater.

An older male, seated next to the boy, whispered, “Don’t push so hard, they’re easy to lose.”

“Notice you’re having luck Uncle,” the boy said.

“You know I’m gay,” said the Uncle.

“Yeah, cause you couldn’t catch a girl,” the boy teased.

“Let’s enjoy the show,” the Uncle said, “shall we?” The boy went quiet.

Harry paid no attention to the drama behind them; not caring that the Uncle was watching Gia tease Harry’s hard cock just in front of him.

Distracted as they were, Harry and Ron still glanced up at the stage.

“Harry,” Ron said, “Catch that? Butler just poisoned that drink.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, “Wonder who’ll drink it.”

The teenage boy behind them said, “Will you keep quiet?”

Harry and Ron kept fairly quiet, though the kissing enhanced the show for those around, before it came to an end. One by one, the actresses came by, blew across Harry’s hard cock before they did their formal bow.

“It’s over?” Ron said, “Encore.”

They left the theater. The teenage boy, who was behind them, caught up with the Uncle in tow.

“You guys must really like your chicks,” said the boy.

“Yes,” Ron asked, “Where are you from?”

“California,” the boy said, “I’m Ben, this is my Uncle Trevor.”

“I’m Harry,” Harry said, “this is Ron,” — pointing — “Hermione, and Gia.”

“We’re from England,” said Ron.

Ben’s girl from the theater came up to Ben. “This is Sara,” Ben asked, “Here with your parents?”

“No,” Hermione said, “Just us.”

“Must be fun,” Trevor said, “Here’s a good restaurant right ahead. Join us for dinner?”

Harry and Ron exchanged looks. “Sure,” said Harry.

They all entered the restaurant.

It was late into the evening when they left the restaurant after dinner. Gia’s hand was still on Harry’s genitals.

“I’ll meet you back at the hotel,” Harry said.

“What’s going on?” Gia asked.

“Nothing, just meet you there,” Harry said, “In the room, alright?”

“You sure?” Ron said.

“Never been more sure in my life,” Harry said, “In just a few, I’ll be along momentarily.”

Gia had to let go of Harry’s hard cock as Harry stayed back, waited for them to get out of view.

“What’s he up to?” Hermione asked.

“Dunno,” Ron said.

“I trust him,” Gia said, fiddling with the ring on her finger, the ring Harry had given her months earlier.

They returned to their hotel room, Harry was already there, Firebolt in hand, and grin on his face; the French doors to the balcony were already open.

“Harry?” Ron asked.

“In three…two…one…” Harry said.

Darkness came over them, the lights in the room went out. Through the open window, they could see that every light outside was flickering out.

“What did you do?” Hermione asked.

“Did you take your broom out Ron, like I warned you?” Harry asked.

“It’s under the bed,” Ron said, “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Get it,” Harry said, “No power, no lights, no alarms, lets see Paris at night, from the air. Gia, hold on.”

Harry mounted his Firebolt; Gia got on behind him, held on.

“Hermione, Ron, come,” Harry said.

“Flying?” Hermione sputtered.

“Come on,” Ron said, “Lights aren’t going to stay out forever.”

“We’ve got an hour, tops,” Harry said, “Hurry.”

“This is absolutely immature and ridiculous,” Hermione said, “Flying starkers in Paris, what will you say when we’re caught?”

“With SEP1?“ Ron said, “Nobody’ll care, come on!”

Hermione shook a bit as she mounted Ron’s Firebolt, both she and Ron were naked. She grabbed tightly around the waist; they joined Harry at the threshold of the opening. A quick cast of the SEP, and they flew out. Harry took the lead, across the Seine, and up the Eiffel Tower, landing on the warm roof above the top observation deck of an seemingly empty tower. Harry sat, cross–legged, setting the Firebolt to the side.

“What—” Hermione started, before Harry opened a small box nearby.

Instantly, a candle on the small cupcake lit, he handed it to Gia.

“Happy sixteenth birthday,” Harry said to Gia, “May we have many more.”

“Thank you,” Gia said, eating it, “Presents?”

“One,” Harry said, “Is there a best time? Not sure, but I had you hold my dick all day to convince me it was time to use it, and what better place than in Paris, here, on your birthday?”

“Got me there,” Gia said, smiling.

“Protection?” Hermione asked.

“Magic condoms, from Harry’s book,” Ron asked.

“One he’s never let me read?” Hermione asked.

“Perfect protection,” Harry said, “Hurry up before the lights come back on.”

Harry had Gia on her back on the small and warm roof, so small that Hermione was next to her.

“Come on, he wants us to do it at the same time,” Ron said, before giving Hermione a kiss.

“Next time, a proper seduction,” Hermione said to Ron.

Harry started by kissing Gia’s nipples, he licked around them; Gia massaged into his thighs as he was leaning over her. His hands worked her stomach. Meanwhile, Ron started by licking and kissing Hermione’s neck, his hands cradled her head, and let his balls rest on her thigh. Ron’s dick stiffened on her, dragging itself as the foreskin retracted, his slit pushed into her stomach.

“Only an hour?” Hermione asked.

“A guess,” Harry said.

“Quit talking and start banging!” Gia said.

A noise came from below.

“Now or never,” Harry said, “Coitus Protego!”

A green shimmering covered Harry’s hard cock, a layer of light surrounded it.

“Coitus Protego!” Ron shouted.

Red light bathed Ron’s erection.

“Waiting?” Gia asked.

“Nope,” Harry said, straddling and laying onto Gia, she guided his glans between her folds, into her vulva. Harry began to flex his hips.

Hermione groaned slightly, but let Ron in, he was following Harry’s example, laying as his cock went in. Ron flexed his hips too. Ron kept this up, drilling in and out. Hermione smiled as Ron collapsed onto her. A moment later, he gathered his strength, pulled out, his off white semen trapped between the magic and his glans, pushing into a small bulb to contain it.

“Yes! Yes!” Gia exclaimed, Harry was still going.

Harry pulled out, his thick semen spread across his dick. “Guess we did it.”

“Guess we did?” snapped Hermione.

“We did,” Ron said as he sat up.

“Really,” said Gia.

“Interesting glow,” said Harry.

“Okay, so it’s a cute charm,” Hermione said.

They spent a few minutes staring and blinking, until they began to hear noises from below. Footsteps, boots stepping underneath the trapdoor, ascending, before the lock was being messed with.

“Shit!” Harry exclaimed, “Hurry!”

Harry grabbed his Firebolt, so did Ron. Gia got on, as did Hermione onto Ron’s. All cast the SEP and flew off the roof. All four plummeted.

Both Harry and Ron felt their brooms to be sluggish, not wanting to respond, but did manage to level off at two hundred feet. They went as fast as they could for the hotel balcony, their altitude dropping as they flew. Harry overtook, got in first. Ron made it to the balcony when he and Hermione went in to free fall as Ron’s magic failed, they landed on the bed.

“That was close,” Hermione said, “and dangerous.”

“And fun,” Gia said, holding Harry’s shoulder, “Never dreamed it would be first on top of the Eiffel Tower.”

The lights came back on.

“Well,” Harry said, “Guess they figured out the squirrels.”

Hermione shut the curtains.

“Sorry,” Gia said, “You two need to clean up before you get into bed.”

All four examined the two dicks hanging there with semen on them. Both Ron and Harry wiped them off before returning to climb into the bed.

“So,” Gia asked, “Why the diminishing power?”

“First, Happy Birthday, again,” Harry said, “Losing magic for a while is the price of that spell, One I have no problems with.”

“That’s the fine print?!” Hermione stammered.

“It worked,” Ron said, “See you in the morning.”

Ron was the first to fall asleep.

“I can’t believe you’d risk—” Hermione said to Harry, “Next time, use a muggle condom, don’t risk my neck with that stunt—”

“It wasn’t a stunt,” Harry said, “Good night.”

Harry woke first to a breeze blowing across his buttocks Wednesday morning; the window was still wide open, cheap curtains to either side, with the morning sun soaking heat into them. Harry glanced at the Firebolts laying on the floor, remembering what had transpired the previous evening.

“Where to today?” Ron asked, poking his head out of the blanket covering him. He glanced up at Harry, seeing the soft penis hanging from the yellow pubic hair.

“Maybe Lyon or something,” Harry said, standing next to the bed, “Suggestions?”

Gia’s hand reached up, her finger traced along the crease of Harry’s boyish V, dragging down to his penis, his testicles. She tugged, and Harry knelt on the edge of the bed, which left his crotch as Ron’s main view.

“Mind moving?” Ron asked.

Gia, however, her hand caressed Harry’s sack, inspected his dark yellow glans.

“Get a camera!” Hermione snapped, “Public sex—”

“As long as we don’t get caught,” Ron said.

“Figures!” Hermione snapped.

Hermione rolled out of the bed, walked into the bathroom with a grumpy composure; she slammed the door behind her. Ron squeezed out, went over to the door, and tried the knob.

“Locked,” Ron said.

Ron knocked on the door, but the only reply was the sound of running water. Harry, though, pulled out his penknife, went over, and stuck it into the lock. He twisted the knob and opened the door.

“Stay out!” Hermione snapped.

“Just to piss?” Harry asked.

“Alright,” Hermione said, “But not Ron—he can piss out the window.”

Harry closed the door after he entered, it closed with the click of the lock. Harry stood on the edge of the shower, aimed his penis, and began to urinate, pissing into the shower; the odor invaded their nostrils.

“What?!” Hermione stammered, her eyes wide upon Harry, the gold still streaming out of his penis, and she pushed back into the corner, held her hand against her bushy brown carpet.

“You’re being unfair,” Harry said.

“So,” Hermione sneered, “That sex maniac dare you?”

“Ease up,” Harry said, “I’m not going to bite.”

Harry stepped into the shower.

“You’re judging!” Hermione snapped, her eyes watching Harry’s rapidly stiffening cock.

“What did you expect when you sabotaged our alarm clocks back home?” Harry said, as he got wet, “You lied to us so we’d be forced to streak across England, because you wanted to see it, you just didn’t count on us going along with it, and trusting that we can be naked together.”

“Sex is all that’s on your mind!” Hermione said.

“I should be able to trust you with my privates,” Harry said as he began to lather the soap onto himself, “If I can’t, best to go to the shops, get something to wear.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Hermione said.

“Hermione, you’ve got good brains and a good body,” Harry said, “I’m surrounded by beautiful girls and you’re expecting me to keep sex off the mind? They day I can’t sport a stiffy with my friends is the day to worry.”

“Friendship isn’t bought with sex—” Hermione started.

“You misunderstand,” Harry said, “It’s love, for Gia, for you. You’re our friend and always shall be. If we weren’t, well, I’d expect you’d have castrated me by now.”

Hermione giggled as Harry’s hard statue softened fast.

“Interesting argument,” Hermione said.

“You’re bright and beautiful, though it’s your personality that makes you sexy,” Harry said, “Even Ron sees that in you, so it’s got to be true.”

“Flattery,” Hermione said as Harry’s erection returned.

“What kind of friend would I be if I can’t flatter you?” Harry asked.

Hermione returned the grin.

“We appreciate you coming along,” Harry said, “Our friendship isn’t skin deep, it’s much deeper, but your skin’s also very beautiful—”


“When you’re done banging my girlfriend—” Ron shouted, “Others do need to use the room!”

“See?!” Hermione snapped.

“Notice me not pressing it onto you?” Harry exclaimed, pointing to his hard dick, “Going naked just means that I can’t hide it … that and we finally used them!”

“It was overrated,” Hermione said as Harry began to rinse.

Harry rinsed the soap off his scrotum before he turned off the water. Quickly, he grabbed two towels and handed one over to her. He moved through the open door, only partly dry when he entered the bedroom, where Ron’s ears tinged green as he glared at Harry’s dripping hard statue.

“What the—?!” Ron started to yell.

“Chill—” Harry started as Ron tackled him to the floor.

Ron threw a right hook and punched with the left. Harry responded with a left to jaw. Ron kneed into Harry’s scrotum, Harry moaned. Ron got in several more punches before Harry responded. They punched and rolled.

“Stop it!” Hermione barked.

Ron threw another punch against Harry’s penis before Hermione and Gia rushed over and grabbed when they had the chance. Hermione grabbed Harry’s while Gia grabbed Ron’s scrotum; they both squeezed onto the testicles. Harry and Ron came to a halt, on their hands and knees, blood on their faces.

“Best use these have had all along,” Hermione said, holding on, “You two ought to be ashamed—acting like hounds in heat, maybe your speeches about you being better starkers are pretense? If you can’t behave—we’ll have to reconsider. I think—I think you’ll have to go a week before you need these again.”

“Agreed,” Gia said, “That might teach them.”

“A week of what—” Ron started as he mopped blood off his face.

“A week until you need that spell again,” Hermione stated.

“That’s—that’s—” Ron started.

“Just,” Harry stated, red dripping from his nose.

“That goes for you too—” Gia said.

“But I—” Harry protested, until Hermione squeezed again, “Alright.”

“Unless you wish to stink as you travel,” Hermione said to Ron, “Shower!”

“Come on,” Gia said, pulling Ron by his balls, to the bathroom, she left the door ajar as the water started up.

“I don’t get Ron,” Harry said to Hermione. “Them together, they’re naked, but I’m cool since I trust Ron, but he’s not trusting me!”

“You are bankrolling the trip,” Hermione said, “Maybe that has something—”

“FUCK!” Harry yelled, “I just want us to have fun, so I don’t give a damn about the money, but I do care about him! If every time we talk, he gets pissed off, it’s not fun.”

Ron came out of the bathroom, acting oblivious. “Oh HI! Don’t mind me, I’m naked.”

“We can see that,” Hermione said.

After a couple of painful pushes of their Firebolts back into their butts; Harry and Ron limped as they left the room. They went down the stairs to the front desk.

“Bill to settle for Room 309,” Harry said to the lady behind the desk while laying down his Gringotts Debit Card and the room key.

Ron opened his mouth, but Harry slammed his hand fast against it to silence Ron.

“Unless you want to settle!” Harry snapped.

The lady behind the desk glanced at the bruises, but did not pursue. Instead, she accepted the card, had Harry sign, before returning the card. Harry pushed the card up his butt hole before they left the hotel.

Harry went to put his arm around Gia after they got onto the sidewalk; however, she slapped him and ducked out of the way before his next attempt.

“A week, remember?” Gia said.

Hermione bought a local paper with a picture of the darkened Eiffel Tower on the front page.

Later, they boarded a train, sat in an open four seater. Hermione held her local paper as they were riding the train away from Paris, translating for all.

“Let’s see,” Hermione said, “Power out disables alarms … Batteries … Motion detectors … recorded a presence … Why unknown … Guard saw bodies falling … None recovered … Guard … within seconds of nabbing … Investigation is proceeding. I wonder what the weather’s like in Switzerland.” She thumbed the paper and turned pages. Ron snickered.

“I guess we were noticed—” Harry started.

“Next time read the bloody book!” Hermione snapped.

“Worth it,” Harry said, grin on his face as his eyes were focus upon Hermione’s folds before him.

“Hmph!” Hermione snorted.

Harry let his snake slither upward.

“It’s all you two ever think about!” Hermione snapped.

I’m letting it express it’s admiration—” Harry retorted.

“Just remember which girl—” Ron warned.

“Children!” Gia snapped.

“He started it,” Ron said, before blushing as his own erection grew stiff in front of her.

“Ow,” Harry muttered, “Can you like…not punch me in the balls?”

“Then keep them off Hermione!” Ron seethed.

“Enough!” Hermione said, “I’ve had it with you…both! Now, before this gets worse, I want you to apologize.”

Ron shook his head.

“Then suck Harry’s dick,” Hermione said.

“What?” Ron asked.

“He doesn’t have to—” Harry started.

“And you suck his,” Hermione said.

“What are you—” Gia started to asked.

“According to them, it’s the most important bit of their anatomy,” Hermione said, “So, suck and service, full service, and apologize after you’ve both…discharged, complaining about the aftertaste.”

“Gia!” Harry protested.

“Best get started,” Gia said, “It’s to be my in–train entertainment.”

“Take a few minutes to check out the damage you inflicted,” Hermione said, “Then suck.”

“Unless you never want sex again,” Gia said, “Do we have to confiscate your bollocks?”

“No,” Harry said.

“Best to take some time here, learn it properly,” Hermione said, “It’ll be the only sex you’ll have for a while.”

“We get the idea,” Harry snapped.

“Lets get this over with,” Ron said.

Ron got onto the seat cushion, on his hands and knees, examined Harry’s genitals. Ron’s fingers held Harry’s bruised scrotum.

“Ow, it still hurts,” Harry said.

“Sorry,” Ron muttered.

“Get sucking, and no accidents,” Hermione said.

Ron retracted Harry’s foreskin, examined the slit from close by, before he brought his mouth over it.

“Tongue, don’t forget the tongue,” Gia said, “You’re trying to take out his bruises.”

Ron could see it, close by, the bruising on the base of Harry’s hard cock, the rest was in Ron’s mouth. Ron brought his tongue to the skin, felt the ridge, the shoulder of the glans, the slit, before he began to lick.

“Oh,” Harry said, “I’m feeling it.”

“Good,” Hermione said, “More Ron.”

Ron partially slobbered, added his saliva to the erection, getting Harry’s glans nice and slick.

“Gotta be the best one he’s ever received,” Gia said, her fingers fingering into her vulva.

“It’s just a…” Harry started, his face blushing.

“Don’t forget to rub his testicles,” Hermione said.

Ron cradled the scrotum with a free hand, he massaged through the bruised skin.

“Stop…stop!” Harry snapped.

Ron, though, sucked again, the tongue caressed the glans, moved it around, and focused on the slit. A quick tremor, a surge of heat, the saltiness, and Ron tasted the flow of Harry’s semen across the tongue.

“Show it!” Hermione snapped.

Ron pulled off, Harry’s tip was still oozing, but Ron showed Hermione his tongue, covered with the white.

“Gross,” Harry said.

“Bleah,” Ron said.

“No spitting, no swallowing,” Hermione said, “Let it linger, and, it’s Harry’s turn.”

“I—” Harry started.

“Do it,” Gia said.

Ron got up, let Harry push him back on the train seat. Harry knelt, examined Ron’s soft penis.

“Eyes on the girls,” Harry said to Ron.

Ron studied Hermione, she fiddled with her clitoris, and Ron stiffened. Harry watched it harden, before grabbing it. Harry licked the slit before the warm cavern enveloped the shaft. A tongue explored, pushing into the band of foreskin, around the shaft, along the ridge, and touched the slit; the fingers pushed into his scrotum, tried to massage away the soreness from their punches.

“We need to get some drinks,” Gia said, “We trust you can do this right to the end, no cheating, understood?”

Gia and Hermione stood, left the carriage. This left Ron watching Harry suck on his cock; Harry paused.

“I am sorry,” Harry said.

Harry latched his mouth back onto Ron’s hard shaft, kept at it with the fingers teasing into the testicles.

Ron, of course, felt awkward, he wasn’t expecting this, for Harry to be giving him a blowjob, but Harry wasn’t trying to cut the service short. Instead, Harry expanded his fingers, worked into Ron’s pubic hair too, massaging to the base of the shaft. Perhaps Harry was subconsciously letting magic into it, which would be tough as their magic had left them, but Ron felt the tension easing in him. Harry’s hands changed to work Ron’s inner thighs, massaging, before they returned to the testicles. Slowly, Ron relaxed enough for the pressure to build up; Harry’s tongue moved to the slit, touched the fulcrum, when Ron felt the surge. Ron felt the sudden release, the drop in pressure, as he ejaculated into the mouth of Harry Potter. Harry waited for a moment or two, before standing up; he sat next to Ron.

“Can we talk?” Harry asked.

“Guess so,” Ron said.

“Hermione’s your girlfriend,” Harry said, “We’re showing ‘em our dicks—it tastes awful.”

“I know,” Ron said, “Why’d you think I took a while?”

“Suppose they get this when they blow us,” Harry said, “Maybe we ought to make it more open.”

“More open?” Ron said, “We’re naked, can’t get more open than that.”

“Tell you what, we share,” Harry said, “Would that help?”

“What do you mean by share?” Ron asked.

“Simple, we stop worrying about it,” Harry said, “If you and Gia want to fuck, then fuck; if me and Hermione want to, we’ll bang. It’s sharing a friend, that’s all, and we’ll cheer when it happens, alright?”

“I’ve got—” Ron started.

“You’ve got everything,” Harry said, “It’s now a we, alright? You’re along for the ride too.”

“I guess,” Ron said.

“Hey, you’re entitled, alright?” Harry said, “Do you think Malfoy could get a girl to really love him? I doubt it. You…I loved you enough that I could give you that blowjob, and yours…it was good.”

“It was?” Ron asked.

“Strange, wasn’t expecting that when I woke up,” Harry said, “Still, good, no regrets on it, so, if you need to do it again…”

“Doubt that’d happen,” Ron said, “You did alright too.”

Harry reached over, cradled Ron’s soft penis.

“Perhaps it’s a good thing,” Harry said, “To stop worrying about it, if it slips in, it goes in.”

“Explain this to them,” Ron said.

“And to cheer you up, check Hermione’s legs,” Harry said, “She’s tanning up nicely without any lines.”

“Still doing it,” Ron said.

“We’re naked and they’re both worthy of our attention,” Harry said, “Understood?”

Harry moved his hand upward, they shook hands.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Ron said, “I’ll have Gia pregnant by the end of the week.”

“Don’t do that!” Harry snapped.

Ron started to laugh, Harry joined in.

“Did you two make up?” Gia asked, returning with a drink in her hand. Hermione followed.

“Yeah,” Harry said.

“Consider me,” Gia said, “We’re naked and we’re exposed enough as it is. Fighting doesn’t help.”

“I’ll be back,” Ron said as he stood.

Ron walked along the compartment, went through the door, to the next car, the dining car. He wondered what took the Hermione so long. Instead, he kept walking, into the next carriage, which actually had other passengers, a bunch. Ron walked, where nearly every passenger watched his penis swing, until he came across a pair of teenage girls, slightly younger, giggling at the sight of his penis. Ron stopped before he saw their hands, clearly up their shorts, pleasuring themselves. Ron ignored the lady conductor who stopped as Ron was blocking the pathway; the conductor who also watched as Ron showed his penis to the girls. Ron twisted it slightly, curled it, before holding it sideways in front of one of the girls; he began to pee. Both of the girls giggled, watched, as Ron had multiple surges, each one getting onto their shirts. Ron held the tip up to the nearest girl’s nose, she moaned slightly, and relaxed. Ron turned, kept on walking the carriage. Ron slipped into a private compartment, closed the door, before he reached into his arse to pull out his journal.

10 July, 1996

That does it—Dumbledore is interfering, though I don’t know how. But, do I want to put a stop to it? Not really.

I’m starting to see the rationale, even for Hermione’s unreasonable demands. It’s only a matter of time until You–Know–Who bothers us again, and it’s best to be comfortable.

Guess I shouldn’t complain about Harry’s blowjob either — it was good, he could teach Hermione a thing or two. Though I won’t tell Ginny that I blew Harry, that’d make her jealous, maybe even mad.

1 SEP, or Somebody Else’s Problem , is a spell that tricks the observer into not bothering to remember what they were seeing. This idea is adapted from Douglas Adam’s work, Life, The Universe, and Everything

Chapter Text

After Lyon, Geneva, and Bern, the four teenagers left the main Zurich station Saturday, the thirteenth, and walked into a park near Limmat river. Harry sat on the grass, let the blades work their way up his butt, his loose scrotum rested in the green, beneath the nearly black pubic hair; he studied the road map of Switzerland. Ron swatted at a bee buzzing past, he missed.

“What’s wrong?” Hermione asked,

“Think we’re moving too fast,” Harry said, “At this rate, we’ll spend a month at Charlie’s. While I know Ron loves his brothers, I doubt we want to force him to spend a month with one.”

“Thank you for that consideration,” Ron said, sarcastically.

“Suppose you want me to suck on that again,” Harry said, his eyes leveled right at the soft penis hanging below the red pubic hair; the dyes had already left them.

Gia snickered.

“No, no,” Ron said, “Not required.”

“So your plan is—” Hermione asked, not knowing if she wanted to hear the answer.

“Go slower,” Harry said, “Hike the Alps.”

“Hiking the Alps?” Hermione asked, “Any clue to how long that takes?”

Harry ruffled the map a bit.

“I’m guessing a week to Austria,” Harry said, “Doesn’t seem too demanding, though I suppose we could use the Firebolts if we fall short.”

“We’re NAKED!” Hermione said.

“So we get a thing or two,” Harry said, “It’s not a big deal—and don’t start that Ron!”

“I’m not,” Ron said.

“You’re shoving it up your arse,” Hermione said.

“Why?” Harry said, standing, “Sure, it’s a bit of a drag but they’ve got backpacks—”

“Which we mailed—” Hermione started.

“And it’s been great!” Harry said, “But I’m not shoving a sleeping bag up my butt!”

“You’re a wizard, just make it out of thin air,” Gia said.

“We’re trying to keep a low profile,” Hermione said, “No magic.”

“Low profile?” Gia said, “We’re NAKED! I don’t call that a low profile.”

“I think I saw a store this way,” Harry said, pointing.

Harry’s dick flopped as it liked to do as he walked, the jet black pubic hair attracting the eyes of passerbys, as they made it along the roads of the shops, coming to a large outdoor and sporting goods retailer with a parking lot full of cars as numerous people shuffled in and out. Harry led the way, entered the store. Inside, Gia and Hermione went off, while Ron followed Harry.

Ron and Harry weaved through the crowd, bumping into people as they went to reach the maps section. Harry studied the reference card before he perused the selection of topographical maps.

“What are we looking for?” Ron asked.

“A good map,” Harry said, “We need a good trail that goes somewhere toward Romania.”

Ron looked over Harry’s bare shoulder as Harry went through the various maps. Harry laid the fith one onto the table, spread it out.

“That one looks good,” Ron said, pointing out a trail, his red armpit hair showing.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “Runs between the timberline and the ridge–line, bit remote which is what I’d like.” Harry pointed to a stretch of the trail. “Twenty five miles with no junctions, rest at five or ten mile spacings, even hugs a ridge, might be a good view or two.”

“No tell–tale signs,” Ron said.

“Huh?” Harry uttered.

“Well,” Ron said, “Certain things show when somebody tries to hide things. With this trail, it’s possible.”

Harry said, “We’ll risk it then.”

Hermione approached, her bushy carpet was as fluffy and brown as usual.

“Gia’s waiting by the cash registers,” Hermione said.

“Thank you,” Ron said to Hermione, ducking to give her a kiss.

Hermione took a step back, watched as Ron crashed into the shelf. Harry joined in her laughter, earning a glare from Ron.

“Lets move,” Harry said as he moved.

Harry’s dick began to swell as they came to the cash registers, his eyes did as they usually did, traced her smooth shaved vagina.

“I assumed double wide sleeping bags,” Gia said.

“That’ll do,” Harry said.

Harry reached into his butt, pulled out his wallet, and stood in line.

“Need a couple of things from that other store across the road,” Hermione said.

“Here,” Gia said, pushhing the cart toward Harry, “See you out front.”

Hermione and Gia left.

“You sure about this?” Ron asked.

“Yeah, I am,” Harry said, “Not risking going back early and having to stay with the Dursleys. It’s been a nice trip so far.”

“Nice seeing their pussies moving about,” Ron said.

“Yep,” Harry said, “Nobody else seems to give a damn about us.”

“Likely you,” Ron said, “Not complaining, though I wonder how many dreams we’re getting into.”

Harry snorted.

“I mean it, how many are liking the real me?” Ron began to point as they made it the checkout. “How’s my penis?”

The young lady of a cashier smiled, studied the two soft todgers hanging there; including the bit of the glans still showing on Ron’s.

“You had to point that out,” Harry said.

“We’ll be in her dreams tonight,” Ron said.

Harry shook his head as the lady punched up the total. Harry handed over his debit card, used it. Ron, meanwhile, pulled his scrotum a bit forward, lifted his penis, as the lady glanced at this.

“Come on,” Harry said.

Harry grabbed the cart, pushed it out of the store.

“We’re naked, better to get second opinions,” Ron said.

“Flirting with every lady—” Harry started.

“Hermione’s fault for cutting us off,” Ron said, “What’s a bloke to do?”

“Do about what?” Hermione asked, stepping up to them.

“I need sex,” Ron said.

“You know whose fault that is,” Hermione said.

“Can you bewitch the backpack?” Harry asked.

“I thought you grabbed two,” Hermione asked Gia.

“One,” Gia said.

“Borrow my wand,” Ron said, shaking his dick as it stiffened.

“No to you,” Hermione said to Ron, before turning to Harry, “Keep him ten paces away.”

Harry grabbed Ron, they took ten paces, turned.

“So what if we fought?” Ron said, “We’ve made up, we got the point, and we’re good now.”

“She can count,” Harry said.

Hermione snorted.

“She’s listening,” Ron said.

“Her ears work, that’s good,” Harry said, “I’d be worried if they didn’t.”

“You’re not taking this seriously,” Ron said.

“I am,” Harry said, “It’s just, you’re coming across as being desparate.”

“But I am,” Ron said before raising his voice, “Alright, not interested!”

Hermione chuckled.

Harry lowered his voice, whispered. “You know her, she’s sticking to the week, but they want to do it too. So, we’re going to be hiking, prepare to be jumped, because we’re the only entertainment for them.”

“I like your thinking,” Ron whispered.

“Uh–oh, they’re scheming,” Gia said.

“When I said a week, I meant it!” Hermione said loudly to them.

“We heard!” Harry retorted.

“She’s frustrated too,” Ron whispered, “It’s in her voice.”

“Play it cool,” Harry whispered.

“Done,” Hermione announced.

Hermione shoved her wand up her butt as Harry and Ron came back. Gia already stuffing the small bookbag sized backpack, a tent going in first.

“Those are big sleeping bags,” Ron said, staring at the pair of bags, “You miscounted.”

“Fit two each,” Harry said.

“Oh—oh!” Ron said.

They returned to the station, studied the route map for a moment, took a train a few miles to another station, hopped off, and got onto a bus. Ron stopped in front of another teenage girl, about their age, who smiled; she was still smiles as Ron teased his todger, let the erection grow; he let her gawk at his genitals during the ride, turning and twisting to give her a better view of the hard cock.

“Have you considered we might want to see that?” Hermione asked.

“You’re still interested?” Ron asked.

“Punishment hurts us as much as it hurts you,” Hermione said.

“Yeah, but they like seeing this too,” Ron said, “Not going to disappoint. Now, watch this.”

Ron gave the girl a side profile, he held the dick, and she watched his first bit of force, as the gold stream started up. Ron peed onto the walking carpet of the bus floor, the golden arch ending in a new puddle soaking into the short fibers. The girl rung for the next stop, stood, and waited by the door.

“Not everybody’s interested,” Hermione said.

“Are you?” Ron asked.

“Not saying,” Hermione said.

They rode the bus to a small village, the end of the line, and got off; they walked.

“Ron’s not letting up,” Hermione muttered, glancing at the hard shaft jutting out.

“He’d still be hard if we were dressed,” Harry said, “You just wouldn’t know it. At least being starkers, it ain’t painful when we’ve got beautiful girls with—”

“Excuse of the—” Hermione said.

“We’re guys!” Harry quipped.

“Can we stop the bickering?” Gia said, “I think it’s gorgeous every time they milk.”

Gia grabbed Harry’s soft dangling flesh, felt it firm up in her hand.

“Of—” Hermione started.

“Can we stop that?” Gia said, “Plenty of pubic hair tht we ought to be mature enough to appreciate our friends. If I had wanted a bunch of fighting, I would have stayed at home.”

“Um…” Harry muttered, his erection firmly in her grip, “What she said.”

An old man tending his garden smiled as he saw Harry sporting his erection firm in the presence of the naked girls.

“I figured—” Hermione started.

“I mean it,” Gia said, “Your friends had enough confidence in you to be willing to parade around showing their goods off—it shouldn’t be misplaced, at least based upon all of the tales I’ve heard about your various exploits. So, please accept that we’re naked and enjoy their beauty.”

“I’ve got beauty?” Ron said, “…Thanks.”

“And do understand that the penis has a mind of its own,” Gia continued, “Erections highlight that they do find us attractive—it’s a compliment as they’re showing it off to everybody they come along! Sex is on their minds, that’s just the way boys are programmed, but they are noble to dare to go about starkers, and I trust them not to force it, though they’ll certainly advertise. And it’s nice to give into that.”

Harry snorted as Gia fondled his scrotum. They had made it just onto the trail. Gia, though, pulled Harry closer. Several of the houses had people outside, including the old gardener, that couldn’t help but watch; for they were close to the trail–head, in the middle of the trail, and no shrubs were obscuring them. He pulled her in front of him, he rubbed her breasts as his hands reached from behind, and he kissed on her neck.

“Hmm…” Gia said.

“Remember we grounded them,” Hermione said.

“Later,” Gia said, “Oh…” Gia grabbed a tube from the backpack, handed it over, “So you two don’t get those things sunburnt.”

“What’s that?” Ron asked.

“Sunscreen,” Harry said.

“Hermione, can you rub me?” Ron asked.

“Rub yourself or have Harry do it,” Hermione said, “I’m holding you to the week!”

Harry flipped the cap, squeezed some into his hand.

“I didn’t ask you—” Ron started.

“I have to do myself too,” Harry said.

“Don’t forget your butts,” Hermione said.

“I’ll do those,” Gia said, stepping behind Harry. She rubbed deep as she applied it to Harry’s butt, including into his crack, before she moved onto Ron’s.

“We said—” Hermione started.

“Grow up!” Gia said, “Make your maturity reflect your bodies, it’ll do you all a lot of good.”

“No fun?” Ron stammered.

“You’ve got a nice bush of pubic hair!” Gia snapped.

“Sorry,” Ron said.

“I’m sticking to the week,” Gia said, “But I’ll definitely tease.”

They all glanced at Ron’s hard cock playing sundial to the long and loose scrotum dangling beneath, as Ron’s hand worked the lotion onto them.

“Let’s get moving,” Harry said.

Harry and Ron took the lead. Gia waited until she was shoulder ot shoulder with Hermione, who was wearing the backpack.

“I chose to go starkers,” Gia said to her, “That was my choice—as it was yours. It means nothing is hidden, it means they will look and salivate—as do we. I do not regret my decision to go starkers as I trust that they are mature, or nearly there.”

“I’m sorry if I’ve been a prick,” Hermione said.

“At least we can see where their minds are,” Gia said.

“True,” Hermione replied.

“And no lines—it does feel better,” Gia observed.

“Nothing hidden…” Hermione muttered.

“Is… is that what’s worrying you?”

“What?” Hermione asked.

“This!” Gia grabbed her own breast and Hermione’s, “It’s…it’s obvious—”

Hermione blushed, the size comparison showed her own to be a fair smaller.

“Don’t be so shallow—” Gia said, “Both of them—” she gestured at the boys “—seem to not be making a big issue out of it—both have tossed to them, so they’ve got the official seal of semen approval.”

“So often…” Hermione said, “At school—at first I said was just a late bloomer—”

“And they saw you for a friend before your knickers filled out,” Gia said, “You’re endowed well enough for them—that’s what counts.”

They paused as Ron turned a bit to the side. With his bush of red pubic hair billowing out, the scrotum underneath, he gripped his cock in his hand, let the stream come forth as he began to urinate. Hermione’s left hand massaged her clitoris.

“See?” Gia said, “And you’ll feel the same with Harry.”

“Ron’s my boyfriend!” Hermione snapped.

“Do you not understand Harry?” Gia said, “He too finds you attractive—if it weren’t for Ron… not certain, but I think Harry would’ve gone for you—”

“Harry doesn’t like you?” Hermione asked.

“He loves me, but he also understands Ron’s…” Gia said, “It’s complicated. I think we’re not two couples, but a foursome—”

“Swingers—” Hermione said.

“Looks like sex isn’t the sole preoccupation of the boys,” Gia said, “They value the friendship too dearly to let their gorgeous penises stray.”

“They are gorgeous,” Hermione said.

Even though they only saw the backs of the boys, both of the girls deduced the erections from the shadows beneath the sun and the loose scrotums hanging beneath their butts between their flexing legs.

“And they’re happy,” Hermione said.

“See?” Gia said, “An advantage of being starkers.”

“Yep,” Hermione said.

Both girls paused, again, watched as Harry and Ron turned to look at something for a moment, hard erections jutting out of their groins and their testicles freely showing beneath.

“Just relax and it’ll work out,” Gia said, “Don’t know how, just that it will—I know that’s difficult for you.”

Both boys turned to focus upon the girls, their foreskins unsheathed as much as they naturally could in a dry, orgasmic twitch. Harry waited until they got close, he ran and jumped, securing his groin in front of Gia’s head as he sat on her shoulders, his cock an inch from her mouth. She blew across his glans.

“Is it straight?” Harry asked.

“What?” Gia said, unable to focus on her walk with his pubic hair in her vision.

“We—I was wondering,” Harry said.

She studied as he lifted his rear, her eyes first moved along the topside before going underneath his shaft.

“It works,” Gia said.

“I told you so,” Ron said.

“You—” Hermione started.

“And—” Harry asked.

Gia sniffed.

“And you need to clean it once in a while,” Gia said.

Harry pushed and got off of her. He whimpered as his shaft softened back into a snake.

“You let him—” Hermione said.

“Stop fussing,” Gia said, “He’ll tire of it at some point.”

“That’ll be a while,” Hermione said.

“In the meanwhile…” Gia stopped to watch Harry.

For Harry had paused, swung to the side, and gave them an eyeful as he started to urinate, while Ron kept on going. Both of the girls watched, not quite full frontal, but close, so they could see him gripping his penis, underneath the pubic, lifted off his scrotum, as his yellow stream coursed out of the tip, exposed as the foreskin was already retracted. As it slowed to a trickle, he looked at the wet puddle, then at the girls, with a look of innocence, but he grinned.

“Sorry,” Harry muttered as he returned to walking.

Harry ran to catch back up with Ron.

“He’s not—” Hermione started.

“It means he’s not perfectly comfortable with his exposure,” Gia said, “At least not always, that gives him some charm.”

“Thanks,” Hermione said.

“Witch or not, we’re still girls,” Gia said, “Suppose there’s some magic to—”

“Yes, love potions being the first,” Hermione said, “Plenty of beauty charms, but I’ve not stooped to using them.”

“Something Ron’s said about Harry,” Gia said, “He wouldn’t know if it’s true love.”

“It’s claimed that love potions don’t create love, simply encourage what’s already there,” Hermione said, “But you wouldn’t know, not utterly certain.”

“Which Harry needs to know, that it’s genuine,” Gia said, “Perhaps Harry’s idea here has merit.”

“Which idea?” Hermione said, “The trip?”

“This hike,” Gia said, “No distractions, I think he wants us to be absolutely comfortable.”

“You’ve given it a lot of thought,” Hermione replied.

“I have to,” Gia said, “I met a wizard who’s lightning rod to danger, so I have to understand him, I have to trust him that he’ll keep me safe.”

“That’s what worries him,” Hermione said.

“I know as he made sex conditional on it,” Gia said, “Like sex, or a lack thereof, would make a difference, except between us.”

“You’re going to stick to the week?” Hermione asked.

“Yep,” Gia said, “If he can’t stick it out, then we’d have things to discuss.”

They kept on hiking.

Twilight came upon them when they arrived at the small stone shelter along the trail. Hermione handed out jerky before pulling out the sleeping bags.

“Anything soft for us to sleep on?” Ron asked.

“We?” Hermione said, “We’re not sleeping together.”

“These fit two,” Harry said, “If that bothered you, why didn’t we go for four regular ones?”

“Bit smaller than a hotel bed,” Hermione said, “However, just so we don’t have any accidents, until we say otherwise, I’m not sharing a bag with either of you.”

“So, in order to sleep, I have to share with Harry?” Ron asked.

“What a wonderful idea,” Hermione said, “Thank you for volunteering.”

“I didn’t mean—” Ron said.

“Let’s not argue,” Harry said.

“But I wanted to toss off to you,” Ron said to Hermione.

“Outside,” Hermione said.

“Hermione!” Harry protested.

“Outside, now!” Hermione said, “We’ve got…girl things to do.”

Hermione handed Harry the sleeping bag, while she handed Ron a pair of pillows and an air matteress.

“As she said,” Gia said.

“Fine,” Ron said.

Ron and Harry went out of the shelter, a hundred yards, to a bit of a grass spot.

“We’ve shared the bed before without any accidents!” Ron said.

“You really want to argue with Hermione?” Harry said, “You know her, better to let it slide, worry about it later.”

“Yeah,” Ron said, “So how do we use this?”

Harry dropped the sleeping bag, grabbed the air matteress, opened the valve, and blew it in.

“No inflating charm?” Ron asked.

“Don’t know it,” Harry said, “Besides, we need to avoid magic, not be noticed.”

“Might’ve warned her before forcing us to go starkers,” Ron said, “I can pick them out of a crowd because of it.”

“I want sex too,” Harry said, “They’re holding out, together.”

“What if they don’t let us back in?” Ron asked, rolling the sleeping bag down out over the air matteress.

“Then a talk,” Harry said, “Gia wants me back in … if Hermione doesn’t, well, no hard feelings if you need to bang Gia, alright?”

“Thanks,” Ron said, “My dick, it wants to go off.” His erection was still hard.

“Maybe that’s what she was afraid of,” Harry said, “Lets get some sleep.”

“She won’t even let me toss off,” Ron said as they sat on the sleeping bag.

“I know,” Harry said.

“I need relief,” Ron said.

“Shh!” Harry said quietly.

“Then she won’t know—” Ron said.

“Shh!” Harry said, grabbing Ron’s scrotum.

“What’s that for?” Ron asked.

“You’ve been good lately,” Harry said, “Not even complaining back at the store.”

“I’m trying,” Ron said, defensively.

“I know,” Harry replied, “I’m doing this for friendship, because you need it, so pretend I’m Hermione.”

Ron felt the fingers on his scrotum while the tongue touched his slit.

“Harry?” Ron asked.

“Shh!” Harry retorted.

Ron’s eyes strained and adjusted, could see Harry now bent down, the mouth going over Ron’s stiff cock. Harry’s hands moved, massaged, teased Ron’s testicles, while the tongue began to circulate. Ron felt himself relaxing, as Harry’s touch was soothing, the tongue stimulated. A circle, a lick, Harry’s tongue explored Ron’s hard erection, working a bit onto the slit, the glans, back to the slit as Ron felt the pressure build and release. This time, Ron had a tinge of surprise, the shame he felt before, the embarrassment, wasn’t there, instead, he simply wanted Harry to be content taking away the evidence, until Ron had little left. Harry crawled back, into the double wide sleeping bag, and drew the top over them.

“Wasn’t expecting it,” Ron whispered.

“You are simply worth it,” Harry said.

“So I gotta blow you now?” Ron whispered.

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry replied, quietly.

“What’s gotten into you?” Ron asked.

“Do you really want to know?” Harry asked, sticking out his tongue, they could both see the off–white semen lingering on it.

“You didn’t spit it out,” Ron said.

“So?” Harry said, “Their pranks backfire, understood? Us streaking…we made it permanent. Having us suck—”

“That’s not one I was eager to continue,” Ron said.

“We weren’t eager to go naked either,” Harry said, “Yet, we’re better for it. And, you’re welcome.”

“Thanks,” Ron said softly.

Harry rolled, wrapped his arm on Ron, slept with the head on Ron’s shoulder.

Still, Ron wasn’t certain about this. Nudity was one thing. Harry taking Ron’s cumshot was a different level, a different matter, but one that a tired Ron decided was best not to challenge at the moment. He’d have to find a chance to write in his journal in the morning. Ron went to sleep.

On Thursday , the eighteenth, they were a few days into hiking along the remote trail across the Swiss Alps, hiking toward Austria. Facing the sunset, sitting on a big flat rock near the edge of a cliff, was Ron. This rock, in a field of many stretching hundreds of yards, was perched on the edge with a stunning view of a deep but narrow valley. Ron threw an empty ink jar down the steep slope; the shattering was heard several seconds later. Upon Ron’s lap was the leather bound book, laid wide open, with tight writing on both pages of parchment around many drawings, and the tip of his todger laid on the bottom part of the crack between the pages. Ron’s quill dipped itself into a new inkjar and continued writing.

“Littering?” Hermione asked, walking up.

Ron turned his head, looked at her bossoms, the new reflection of the parchment captured his stiffening dick onto its pages, now adorned with a drawing of his hard erection.

“Pervert,” Hermione said.

Ron grinned.

Hermione sat on the rock, leaned into Ron’s right shoulder, her legs propped up. Her eyes focused on the hard erection on the book.

“That’s—” Hermione asked.

“Nothing,” Ron said.

“You’re writing—” Hermione said.

“A journal,” Ron said, “Not much, just little things since starting Hogwarts. Granddad gave it, at Mum’s suggestion.

“Can I read—” Hermione asked.

“No,” Ron said.

“Harry won’t like that biography of him—” Hermione said.

“It’s either me or Skeeter,” Ron said, “His choice.”

Hermione’s fingers touched, traced the fine lines of his captured statue.

“What—” Hermione started.

“Accident,” Ron said, “Not the worst thing to put in there.”

Ron put the journal aside, pulled her onto his leg.

“You’re trying?” Hermione asked.

“I love you,” Ron said, “Should be reason enough.”

“Protection?” Hermione asked.

“Luckily I copied the other condom spell into the journal,” Ron said.

“You—studying?” Hermione asked.

“If it’s important, like you,” Ron said, “It’s just birth control, so not as costly as the one he memorized.”

“It’s a bit fast—” Hermione started.

“And—” Ron pulled his journal to a new blank page “—put it into the book?”

“Alright,” Hermione said.

They parted enough until she was on one of th epages, facing the valley. Ron got behind her, sat on the other page. Hermione leaned forward; he slid his shaft across the paper and penetrated, thankful for the charm that kept him from getting papercuts as he began to thrust.

“Deeper,” Hermione said.

Ron spied Harry coming up as Hermione moaned, turned around, and left.

Ron continued to thrust, in and out, his testicles resting on the parchement of the page; his shaft moved, before he pulled out. She turned around as he was still ejaculating, the surges being captured on the page below.

“Ron!” Hermione snapped.

Ron followed her eyes, to the page, where it clearly showed their posteriors forever locked by the pair of gonads and his column of flesh pushing into her feminine wilds. Pubic hair accentuating the act. Their faces annotating the top corners of the pages.

“You need to—” Hermione started.

“Tearing out a page breaks the charms,” Ron said, “I can’t without destroying it—besides, it never leaves my presence.”

Ron bent over, the journal shrunk itself, made it easier for him to shove it up his arse hole.

“So that’s why—” Hermione started.

“It captured the moment,” Ron said.

“You seduced me with a book!” Hermione said.

“You’re Hermione,” Ron said, “What’s the shame of it going into a book?”

“I never said—” Hermione started.

“Then don’t fear it,” Ron suggested.

“Perhaps,” Hermione said.

They returned to a small shtone shelter, the one for that night.

“Given that I’ve written about you in there,” Ron said, “It’s likely good to finally capture one essence—I do love you, and I’m not ashamed to let others see that.”

Ron’s dick softened, he did nothing to wipe the off–white semen from it, letting it cling and show, as he came into view of Harry and Gia in the shelter. Both Harry and Gia were sipping on some wine.

“So, you wanted something?” Ron asked.

“Dinner’s ready,” Harry said, pointing to some chicken teriyaki.

“Was thinking more vegetarian,” Hermione said.

“With you playing with a sausage—” Harry started.

“Hey!” Ron snapped, his ears turning green as he glared at Harry.

“I thought you had better manners!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Me? Manners?” Harry asked, breaking into laughter.

“Just don’t refer to my dick as a sausage!” Ron protested.

“It’s a fine sausage,” Harry said, “That rock you found seemed interesting. Gia.”

Gia and Harry left the shelter.

Ron quickly ate. He filled a spare pot with cold water, dunked in his cup, and started to clean.

‘i did not volunteer to be a maid,” Hermione siad.

“Giving them space,” Ron said.

“Space? We—together, and he’s the one that butted—” Hermione stammered.

“He saw and left,” Ron said, “We’re getting on each other’s nerves, a bit of space is needed, and we need to respect that.”

“Yet we’re butt naked,” Hermione said.

“Yeah, especially because we are,” Ron said.


Harry swiped at the bee flying past him on that Saturday morning, the twentieth of July.

“That’d just make it mad,” Hermione said.

“Shoo! Shoo!” Harry said, protecting his small metal pan of oatmeal.

“Could ask it for some honey,” Hermione said.

“Away!” Harry shouted.


It landed on Harry’s penis.

“OW!” Harry yelled as the bee fell off, “It just stung me!” Harry held for a moment. “Of all the places..”

“Could’ve gone for your balls,” Hermione said.

“That’s not a cheerful thought,” Harry said.

“I’ll look at it,” Hermione said, kneeling in front of Harry.

She held Harry’s penis, rubbed a bit at the red welt.

“It hurts!” Harry quipped, his penis began to stiffen.

“I’ll do a spell if it gets worse,” Hermione said, his hard erection in her fingers.

“Worse?” Harry sputtered.

“It’s what Mom does,” Hermione said, “Though doubt she’d do it here.”

“Do it!” Harry said.

Hermione leaned, kissed on the side of Harry’s hard erection, right on the welt.

“What are you—” Ron demanded, coming into view.

“It’s nothing,” Harry said.

“Don’t lie!” Ron said, “I take Gia for a little bath in the stream, to come back and find you two—”

“It was a bee sting,” Hermione said, standing up.

“Oh, so that’s the excuse?” Ron said, “I wasn’t born yesterday.”

“A bee stung my willy,” Harry said, “Hermione was just making sure—”

“Stop bullshitting,” Ron seethed, “Just give it to me straight.”

“Enough!” Hermione exclaimed, her brown eyes glaring.

“He tricks you—” Ron started.

Hermione drew her wand.

“She means it,” Harry said.

“As you two seem to have some unfinished business,” Hermione said, “We’re not moving until you finish it.”

“Excuse me?” Harry said.

“You duke it out, now,” Gia said.

“What?” Ron asked, eyebrows raised.

“Simple, you wrestle,” Hermione said, “And it’s not over until one of you erupts.”

Hermione grabbed Harry by the shoulders, while Gia grabbed Ron by his shoulders. Together, the girls pushed them down until Harry and Ron were facing each other, keeling on the grass. Gia teased Ron’s, while Hermione teased Harry’s to be stiff, side by side, tips plunged into the other’s pubic hair.

“Now,” Hermione said, “In order to win, must get the other to ejaculate.”

“Hand jobs?” Ron complained, “This is so…”

It started with a short trickle from Gia, followed by Hermione, the golden shower sprayed between the chests of Ron and Harry; their dicks twitched. Ron reached for his dick, but instead held Harry’s. Harry’s hand countered, interlocked onto Ron’s shaft. Both Ron and Harry started trying to stroke.

“Real wrestling!” Gia said, “No hand–job stuff.”

“What if we—” Harry started.

“You can give him a hand job later,” Gia said, “I don’t think Ron would mind.”

Hermione took out her wand, cursed, aimed at both Harry and Ron.

“There, it’s binding,” Hermione said, “Argue, wrestle, whatever, we want to see you two sort out whatever issues you’ve got. Shoving might be the first thing, in the meanwhile, we’ll be watching.

Ron’s hands flew upward, shoved Harry in the chest. “See what you—”

“What did you do?” Gia asked, as she and Hermione sat back on the stone table.

“Binds them together until they can both orgasm,” Hermione said, “However, they can’t orgasm until their differences are resolved. In the meanwhile, we get to watch two gorgeous guys wrestle. Too bad we used up all the popcorn, I could go for some.”

Harry tackled Ron, they rolled.

“You’re downright devious,” Gia said.

“I’ve got my moments,” Hermione said, smiling, “Besides, we simply have to be able to trust, period. Harry’s fine with you and Ron, but Ron’s always been a bit…touchy.”

After Harry and Ron had created their messes, they resumed hiking, reaching Austria the next day, where they caught a train.

Chapter Text

After exploring Vienna, Budapest, and Bucharest, Romania, they caught a train north on July thirthieth, north out of Bucharest. A taxi from the station, and they came to an orange barn beside the dirt road nestled into the mountains. Harry paid the driver, who turned around and left.

“You know, I’ve never actually visited Charlie here,” Ron said.

“He gave me directions, we’ve got the orange barn,” Harry said.

They walked up the lane, between some trees, deeper into the isolated valley.

“So, you know where we’re going?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “A few miles, maybe even sneak in a broom ride—”

“No!” Hermione said, “We’re walking.”

They all felt the compression wave go through them as they passed through a pair of stone pillars, trees to either side, along with a sign, No Muggles! They kept walking, on the lane, between the fake stone trees planted to both sides. Roars came from ahead in the distance, and they passed out of the trees to see a vast cleared field. Gia’s eyes widened.

“Dragons,” Gia said, “Those are dragons?”

“Yes,” Harry said, pointing to the figures in the distance, “Those are most definitely dragons.”

“Write Hagrid and tell him where we are,” Ron said to Harry, “Maybe we can see Norbert.”

Harry chuckled, Gia seemed puzzle. Hermione explained Hagrid hatching Norbert during their first year at Hogwarts.

Buildings in the distance steadily became closer, stenches of burning vegetation came their way, the growing heat caused sweat to roll down their skin, dribbling from every protrusion.

“Hagrid got into trouble for it,” Harry said, “We’ve kept it quiet.”

“Why?” asked Gia.

“Impossible to tame,” Ron said, “So they’re unsuitable for normal pets. Imagine the keeping a dragon in Hermione’s back yard, hard not to notice.”

They reached a two story stone building, in front a badly burnt wooden sign with a picture of a dragon remaining on it.

“Well, guess this is it,” Harry said, pushing on the singed, black, door.

Inside, desks were cluttered with parchment, a few quills scribbled notes, gloves piled in the corner, aprons hung from hooks on the back wall. A naked man with balding silver hair was scribbling at one desk, this man looked up at the visitors, eyes wide, and stared for a moment.

This man spoke, the words unintelligible as it was in Romanian.

“Charlie Weasley,” Ron said, before raising his voice, “WEASLEY!”

The man cobbled up, showing the fluffy silver pubic hair, walked out of view, and so they waited.

“Think he understood you?” Harry asked.

“Yeah,” Ron said, “I raised my voice, of course he understood.”

“World doesn’t work that way,” Hermione said.

“If you’re so clever, you learn the language,” Ron said.

They continued to wait, until the man returned, followed by the red haired wizard in his twenties known as Charlie Weasley. Charlie, too, was naked, though he had red stubblw where his pubic hair should have been, leaving a smooth dick hanging. Another man, with brown hair, also naked with no pubic hair with a circumcised penis, similar in age to Charlie, followed.

“You made it!” Charlie said, “So good to see you, that is Mr. Rozell,” he pointed to the silver haired man, “Our director, and this is Adam.”

“Greetings,” Adam said, “You must be—” reaching for Harry’s hand.

“Harry,” Harry said.

“I’m Ron!” Ron said, pointing to himself.

“My brother,” Charlie said, “His friend, and their girlfriends.”

“Greetings,” Adam said, extending a hand to shake, “Glad you told ‘em to dress properly.”

“You mean naked?” Hermione said.

“I wasn’t expecting that,” Harry said.

“Dragons don’t take well to charms,” Charlie said, “Even cooling charms, so it’s practical to bare it all than to take other measures.”

“Not to mention—” Adam said, “There are other benefits.”

Adam blushed as his sausage began to swell, his hands tried to shield as his hard erection jutted out. Charlie glanced at this.

“Like he said, other benefits,” Charlie said, “Lets show you around, come.”

They went through the door into a small gym. Charlie waved his wand, conjured up some mats.

“Mats?” Ron asked.

“Dragons aren’t to be fooled around with,” Charlie said, “You need to learn to play dead. When there are no other options, play dead and hopefully the dragon will lose interest. This has saved my life on a number of occasions already—don’t tell Dad.”

“Are we going to die from dragons?” Gia asked.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Charlie said, “Dragons are some of the most marvelous beings around. They are intelligent and curious, usually well mannered and docile.”

“Hagrid, is that you?” Harry asked.

“He has the right idea,” Charlie said.

“Alright, one of you try it now,” Adam said.

“Harry,” Charlie said.

Harry relaxed, fell. “Ow!” Harry grumbled.

“Not very convincing,” Adam said, “Um… Ron, right?”

“Yeah,” Ron said.

Ron relaxed, fell on his back, legs open.

“Snack’s your nickname,” Adam said.

“Not funny,” Ron said, getting up.

They kept practicing for an hour, before Charlie made the mats disappear.

“I suggest you practice it some more,” Charlie said, “But, you didn’t come here just for that, so we’ll show you around.”

Charlie led them outside, showed them around the other buildings; including the barn, the veterinary building, and the dragon shed which was currently empty. Finally, Charlie went through a fence to see—

“Dragons,” Gia said, “Up close.”

“See?” Harry asked, his right hand on her sweaty shoulder.

Charlie spent a while going over the different breeds before they headed back, making their way to the administration building.

“So, those are the dragons,” Charlie said, “Wards are tied to all those stone trees you see, so Muggles won’t notice, and keeps the dragons inside.”

“Aw,” Hermione said.

“We’re remote, but occasionally a Muggle will approach,” Charlie said, “A bit of fear turns them away.”

Charlie stopped at a long basin, outside of the building, paused as he held his penis out of habit. Yellow pee flowed out.

“Where’s the toilets?” Hermione asked.

Charlie blushed.

“We’re guys here,” Adam said, “Number one here, number two, there’s a toilet inside for that. As you can tell, he’s getting a bit dehydrated.”

“Adam!” Charlie snapped.

However, Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Gia, all watched the rest of the deep yellow torrent pour out.

“Drink more water,” Adam said, “Dehydration’s more of an issue here than you think.”

“Can only imagine why,” Hermione said, scraping some sweat from her skin.

They went around the administration building, walked across the small lane, to the small group of stone cottages arranged in a circle, each one partially buried into an earthen berm behind the cottage. Another basin, along a small cluster of showers, were to the other side of the circle.

“Nothing fancy,” Charlie said as they came to one with a red door with Weasley etched into it.

Charlie held the door open, they entered. Underwear hanging from the nearest coat hook, they were in the middle of the living area, small enough to make the sofa a tight squeeze with the coffee table near the cold fireplace in the middle of the wall to the left. On the far right was a small door to a loo, while a ladder and a small round table separated the living area from the kitchen. Several bookcases lined the walls with various Wizard books plus a small collection of Muggle books that occupied a single shelf.

“Most definitely a bachelor pad,” Hermione said.

Every piece of furniture, every flat surface, had something laying on it, from shirts to a discarded newspaper; opened and half spent cereal boxes were on that small round dining table and scattered elsewhere. Dirty dishes roamed from the tall mess in the sink to spill over onto the counters, at least a foot deep in places.

“Well, sleeping options are up in the loft or the sofa,” Charlie said, “These aren’t the largest of suites.”

Harry climbed the ladder, to look around at several planks of plywood with the rafters not too far above.

“It’ll do,” Harry said. He swept with his arms, clothes tumbled down. “Yeah, enough to fit.”

Meanwhile, Hermione shuffled her feet, blazed a path to the bookcases that lined the walls, and began to rummage through some of the Wizard books. Ron traipsed the short distance, laid down on the sofa. Gia grimaced at the stacks of dirty dishes as she crossed over to the loo, where she closed the door. Charlie, however, reached into the refrigerator, brought out several bottles, handed them around, and sat at the dining table, indicating for Harry to do the same.

“So, how’s your trip been?” Charlie asked, opening a bottle.

Harry opened the bottle in his hand, sipped, and tasted the butterbeer going down his throat.

“Interesting,” Harry said.

“You showed up naked,” Charlie said, “Useful, because it meant I didn’t have to talk you out of anything else.”

“They tricked us,” Ron said, “Hermione here, and Gia, except we found it…it’s got its ups and down, but like it better than not.”

“All the way from England?” Charlie asked.

“Yep,” Harry said before they traded stories.

Ron spent some time on the sofa, laying there, chipping in, but letting Harry carry on with Charlie. Hermione stood there, reading through the books that she was helping herself to. Ron waved his hard erection, Hermione groaned, kept trying to avoid it.

“So, you lost your virginity?” Charlie asked.

“Hell, yeah,” Ron said.

“Hmph!” Hermione said, “I’m not some hooker—”

“Hermione!” Ron said, standing up, “Can we—outside.”

“Why?” Hermione asked.

“Come,” Ron said.

“Go,” Gia said.

“I don’t get it,” Charlie said.

“Outside,” Ron said to Hermione.

Ron ushered Hermione the few paces to the door, opened it, and they went out into the moon lit darkness of the night.

“We’ll be a while,” Ron said before the door closed.

“Mind explaining—” Hermione started.

“Yeah,” Ron said, “Get a bit away, privacy.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” Hermione said.

Ron brought them to a fast halt on the lane, turned to her. His eyes surveyed the nipples on her bare chest.

“Do you love me?” Ron asked.

“Of course you know I do,” Hermione said.

“Do you? I’m having trouble, I can’t tell,” Ron said, “I don’t know.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Hermione said.

“I can’t read minds,” Ron said, “All I know is what you say and what you do. You’re dismissive, or embarrassed—”

“I’m not embarrassed,” Hermione said.

“I can’t tell,” Ron said.

“You know I love you,” Hermione said.

“Then act it,” Ron said, “We’re a couple, it’s perfectly acceptable that you jump my bones, or I jump yours. Heck, Harry and Gia are probably doing it now.”

“You’re counting,” Hermione said.

“We’ve done it once since Paris,” Ron said, “Tell me that you love me, show me, and we’ll be better. I need to know, and I need you to tell me, just not now, but every time you think it, alright?”

“I…sorry, I didn’t realize you’ve been so shallow,” Hermione said.

“It’s not shallow,” Ron said, “Every night Dad came home from work, he’d kiss Mum, they’d hug, and I never asked how late they’d stay up after we had gone to bed. I’m not saying I need to store my todger in you, though I wouldn’t mind—”

“Pervert,” Hermione said.

“For you,” Ron said, “Say we forget them, enjoy the night, and…guess, do you need me to read to you?”

“No,” Hermione said.

They walked along the lane.

“You can hold things too,” Ron said.

“That’s what you were after!” Hermione said.

Ron stopped them.

“It’s all about sex!” Hermione said.

“I want sex, I won’t deny what’s a part of me,” Ron said, his hard erection facing her, “Why should I deny that I find my friend beautiful and sexy? I love you and I’m not ashamed of it.”

“You should apply here, you like it naked,” Hermione said.

“You saw them,” Ron said, “Doubt any of them works a day without their stiffy, at least once. Do they let it bother them? I don’t think so, nor should it bother you. You ought to be able to trust mine, what do you want to do with it?”

“I…” Hermione uttered, her eyes roving his sweaty skin, the moonlight shimmered off of it, her eyes focused on the the hard erection.

“You wanted me to travel naked so you can see it,” Ron said, “You see it, please let me know you appreciate it.”

“Of course I do,” Hermione said.

“I do want sex with you,” Ron said, “Can we please have some? Or, touch me, assure me that you do love me.”

Hermione reached, held the hot, loose, testicles.

“Feel better?” Hermione asked.

“Hold onto them,” Ron said, bringing them back to a slow walk, they went along the stone trees.

“That was easy,” Hermione said, “Good thing it’s night, or they’d all see us.”

“So what?” Ron said, “You don’t get it, we ought to be okay with it.”

“And the dragons?” Hermione asked, her eyes glancing around them, brought them both to a halt next to a pond.

“Stone trees contain them,” Ron said.

“Except we’re not in the trees,” Hermione said.

Ron glanced around, realized they same thing Hermione had, they were in the open, inside the reservation. A short way away, a red dragon had its eyes on the two naked teenagers. A turn of the head, and it was clear the red dragon was not alone; there were a couple of yellows, a blue, and in all, a dozen had them surrounded.

“Know any good spells?” Ron asked.

“They don’t take kindly to that,” Hermione said, “And I haven’t practiced—your broom.”

“I left it back at the cabin,” Ron said.

“You didn’t have to take it out,” Hermione said.

“It seemed best to do it in advance for tomorrow as that cross–brace really hurts on the way out,” Ron said, “Well, I’ve got an idea.”

“You?” Hermione asked.

“Been known to happen, from time to time,” Ron said, turning to her, “Ignore the dragons.”

Ron leaned in, planted his lips onto hers. He moved, began to lick her neck.

“Now?” Hermione asked.

“Now,” Ron said, “All the way.”

Hermione rubbed Ron’s buttocks as he massaged downward on her. Hermione laid down, her back to the grass near the pond.

“Vulnerable,” Hermione said, “And being watched.”

“Exciting, isn’t it?” Ron asked.

Puffs of flame from the dragons kept them illuminated. Ron brought lifted her hips a bit into the air, stayed on his knees, and rested his hard cock on the folds. A red glow from his magical condom sheathed the flesh before he pushed inward; the dragons studied as Ron’s hard cock moved, the shaft going in and out, with the moans that were new to them.

“We’re doing this for the dragons,” Hermione said, with a level of disbelief in her voice.

“They seem interested,” Ron said.

“Don’t doubt that,” Hermione said.

Ron pulled his hard cock out, the condom failed as the surge started. Off white shot beneath the flicker of dragon breath, Ron ejaculated, the semen left a trail on Hermione’s front, along her chest, and on her stomach. Dragons moved in a bit closer, to study the two of them.

“That’s it,” Ron said to them, “It’s one way we can have sex.”

Ron turned around, sat on the ground next to Hermione; she sat up. The dragons seemed to get the message, wandered away.

“You just had to have them watch us,” Hermione said.

“They were curious, and we’re in their territory,” Ron said, bringing his knees up to his elbows, “We’ve got a pass for the night, if we want to loiter.”

“They saw you—” Hermione started.

“It’s not like it’s a first,” Ron said, “You saw the photographs, I showed my snot to Professor McGonagall, it got onto her robes. Those girls on that first train took it. I’ve been doing it left and right; what’s a dragon or two or a dozen? Just another audience.”

“I wasn’t counting on it being a show,” Hermione said, “Of course I love you.”

“Don’t wipe, leave it be,” Ron said, deflecting her hand from her stomach.

“Just like you—” Hermione started, “Sorry.”

“Know what, I doubt they’ve seen a couple before,” Ron said, “A show to get us out of trouble, I think it’s a fair trade, so I don’t mind. Do you?”

“Not when you put it like that,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

“And while I know you’re embarrassed right now about being seen naked with me,” Ron said, “How do you think I feel?”

“Ron!” Hermione snapped.

“Alright, I’m not embarrassed…proud is more like it,” Ron said, turning his head to her, “You’re my friend and I do love you.”

Ron leaned over, kissed, before laying down on his side. Hermione curled up with him, held the scrotum, as they both fell to sleep.

Chapter Text

“Ron!” Hermione said, as she woke him in the morning.

Ron woke, still next to the pond, in the middle of the dragon reservation. He was on his back, todger draped to the side, and his testicles were in their pouch, not hiding, but instead soaking in the heat of the sunshine.

“Can’t we sleep?” Ron asked, tired.

“With dragons about?” Hermione asked.

“We’re in—oh,” Ron said, remembering they were were in the field. He opened his eyes and he could a red and an orange dragon not too far away.

“Yeah, Oh,” Hermione said, “We’re in their field.”

Ron spun and got up, he stood.

“Yeah, breakfast,” Ron said.

“You’re thinking about food—” Hermione asked.

“Always thinking about food,” Ron said, “Unless it’s also you.”

Hermione snorted.

They turned around, surveyed for the nearest stone tree, and walked. They entered the treeline.

“Sorry,” Hermione said, “I didn’t realize how sensitive you are.”

“You’re witty and wonderful,” Ron said, “I know you don’t mean it when you’re being sarcastic, but you say something enough and you begin to believe it; things break. I don’t want things to break with you.”

“That’s…reasoned,” Hermione said.

“I try not to use it, but I do have a brain,” Ron said.

“You’d rather keep it in your crotch,” Hermione said.

“If you’d rather I think there, I can,” Ron said, “And, you’ll want to watch me pee.”

“I—” Hermione started.

“Lets follow Harry’s example,” Ron said, stopping as they got to the lane, and he turned to her, “There’s no question they love each other, right?”

“Of course not,” Hermione said.

“Why?” Ron said, “Because they take every opportunity to be fascinated with each other, to love each other, and I think we can stand to do the same. It’s a wacky idea, I know, but it’d drive out the doubts.”

“You’ve got doubts?” Hermione asked.

“I get them, especially when the sarcasm becomes demeaning,” Ron said, “Maybe that’s what gets triggered when I see Harry too close to you; I don’t want those doubts, I want you.”

“I’m sorry for not realizing it’s hurting you,” Hermione said.

Ron hugged her, brought his chin to her shoulder, lifted her.

“Are you protected?” came the voice.

A pair of red headed twins came zooming past, Fred and George, on their Cleansweeps, flew around Ron and Hermione. Both Fred and George were naked.

“What are you doing here?” Ron asked.

“Making sure you two don’t get expelled,” Fred said.

“Favor to Mum,” George said.

“But she’s—” Ron started.

“She wouldn’t want to see you—” Fred pointed at Ron “—get expelled because you knock her—” he pointed to Hermione “—up and get her pregnant. She’s not pregnant, is she?”

“No!” Hermione snapped.

“Think we could hook you up with some protection,” Fred said.

“I don’t need your protection!” Ron said.

“Who do you think distracted the dragons away from you this morning?” George said, “Sleeping in the middle of them!”

“Let’s get back to Charlie’s,” George said, “Party’s about to begin.”

“Looks like you adopted the uniform,” Hermione said.

“You guys made it clothing optional,” Fred said.

“That was her doing,” Ron said.

“I gave you plenty of chances—” Hermione said.

“It’s too hot anyways,” George said.

“You stay away from her!” Ron barked.

“Relax,” Fred said.

They made it back to the cabin, entered.

Ginny, naked with her pubes shaven, stood in the kitchen, frosting a cake. Adam, sharing the cramp kitchen, had eggs and bacon on the stove, while Charlie carried a platter of fried chicken into the cabin. The food was placed onto the dining table, it had been lowered to that of coffee table.

“That’s making me hungry,” Ron said.

“Is Harry—?” Fred asked.

“Upstairs,” Gia said.

“Fancy, calling that the upstairs!” George said.

“It’s not much, but it’s my home,” Charlie said.

“Ready, just need the birthday boy,” Adam said.

“HARRY!” Gia shouted up, “HARRY!”

Feet first, stepped on the top rung, before jumping. Harry came down, fast, his eyes going wide as he saw Ginny, staring back at his exposed genitals.

“Ginny—” Harry stammered.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” George started, which caught on, and everybody shouted it.

Harry glanced around, tried to use his hands to cover up.

“Birthday suit is most appropriate,” Fred said, “Plus, food’s getting cold.”

“Let’s eat!” Ron exclaimed.

Fred’s hand escorted Harry, to the open chair around the lowered table. Harry sat, crossed his legs as he propped his feet up on the wooden table in front of him, and leaned back. Harry’s hand pulled his testicles up, letting them rest, and his penis stayed steady; Ginny kept glancing at it.

“Make yourself at home,” Fred said, handing Harry a plate of food.

On Harry’s plate was an English breakfast with a side slice of cake. Everybody watched carefully as he took a bite and chomped on it. With a serious concentration, Fred and George watched Harry’s dick flash blue, followed by a fast torrent. Harry blushed as he peed.

“There is a toilet—!” Fred said, pointing.

“Make this cake?” Harry asked, studying Fred’s facial expression.

“Why do you ask?” George asked.

“Food!” Ron said.

“It’ll keep, Adam?” Charlie said.

“Sure, not a problem,” Adam said, standing.

Charlie went to a closet, pulled out a pair of Trigger 10’s, a Cleansweep 7, and a Nimbus 1000.

“Of course,” Hermione said.

“Harry?” Charlie asked.

“We’ve got our brooms,” Harry said.

“Where?” George asked.

“We’ll be outside,” Ron said.

Ron and Harry left the cabin; both bent over to start pulling their brooms out.

“That’s gotta hurt,” Ginny said.

“There’s better ways,” Fred said as Harry pulled the crossbracing out.

“Ouch,” George said, “Just looking at it.”

“It’s not fun,” Harry said, waddling carefully, “Can you wait, need to take a dump.”

“A good flier can do it while riding,” Fred said, “Just don’t shit your handle.”

“I—didn’t think of that,” Harry said, mounting his broom.

Harry flew; didn’t glance over his shoulder, so didn’t realize that Ginny and Adam were right behind as Harry shifted his butt. He rolled first, took several attempts before he could be stable. Ginny paid attention as Harry’s anus began to spread, to squeeze out the first bit. A long chunk fell into the trees right before they came to the large field, with the traditional hoops. They landed, and Harry squatted.

“Not here!” Adam snapped at Harry.

“Sorry,” Harry said, standing.

Adam and Charlie were sporting hard erections as they went over to the box; pulled out a Quaffle, a Bludger, and a snitch.

“Obviously quite casual,” Fred said to Charlie.

“It’s an OVEN!” Charlie said, “Frequently is, so obviously…you get used to it.”

Ginny stayed on the ground for the first round, her eyes on Harry’s testicles, penis, freely hanging as he flew; she watched as it stiffened, as they all stiffened. Harry flew over to Ron during a short rest.

“Will you tell your sister off?” Harry said, “She’s oogling me!”

“You’re naked, what’d you expect?” Ron asked.

“Her eyes are following ME!” Harry said.

“She’s not the only one mate,” Ron said, “Face it, it ain’t red, think that’s it.”

Harry flew away, watched the eyes of Charlie tracking him, Adam’s too. Eventually, Adam scored the last of the goals, some cheers.

“I must be getting old,” Charlie said, “Let’s head back.”

They flew back, over the trees, to ring of cottages, entered, still coated in sweat. Harry cleared the sofa, laid down. He stretched his legs, before bringing them up over his torso, stretching them apart, when Ginny sat down, on the sofa, right where Harry’s legs were about to go..

“That was fun,” Ginny said.

“Okay, what did you guys spike?” Harry said, “I’m still hard as a nail.”

“Trade secret,” Fred said, while checking the food in the oven.

“How much more do you have?” Ginny asked while her hand reached for Harry’s loose pouch.

“What—?” Harry started, as Ginny’s fingers felt the loose testicles, as stretched apart as they could be, against the thighs.

“Like we’re telling you,” Fred said, “Besides, it’s experimental.”

“Ginny!” Harry snapped.

“To test this on customers would be unethical,” George said, “Family, now that’s fair game.”

“Will you stop feeling my balls!” Harry said.

“Let her,” Ron said, standing next to the cold fireplace, watching, “You know she can’t afford any other gift for your birthday.” Ron knew he was provoking his brothers a bit.

“Saving your cock for that other…” Ginny went soft.

“Like she’s going to bite them,” Fred said.

“No!” Harry snapped, though he restrained himself as he didn’t want to harm Ginny.

Ginny’s right hand, her fingers, felt into Harry’s soft sack, working into the testicles, while her left ring and middle fingers stayed lodged inside her vagina, her left thumb teased her clitoris.

“Well, it is your birthday,” Ron said to Harry, “Maybe you’d rather get bare bottom spankings.”

“What a splendid idea!” Harry snapped, getting the impression the Weasley family was ganging up to let Ginny molest him.

“You do seem happy about it,” Ron said.

“Their—of course my cock’s up!” Harry seethed.

“Shh!” Ginny said, “You’re ruining my vibe!”

Harry conceded as Ginny’s right hand kept playing with his testicles. She’d alternate between cradling the entire pouch, holding a single testicle, massaging, poking, and prodding, even feeling in between the two toward his hard cock. She repeatedly tugged on the strands of hair on the sack, feeling each one, as she kept this up.


Ginny sighed, relaxed for a moment, her hand softened its grip of Harry’s balls, and she exhaled, smiling.

“How many?” Ron asked Ginny.

“Three,” Ginny said.

“See, not too bad Harry,” Ron said, “Real things are likely more stimulating.”

“Real things?” Harry said, “Don’t tell me—”

“These are simply better,” Ginny said, back to feeling Harry’s scrotum.

“Get off!” Harry said.

“Already did,” Ginny replied, removing the magical vibrator from her vulva, the one shaped like a dildo, “George, the silencing charm’s busted again.”

“Let me see it,” George said.

Ginny got up. Harry put his legs down.

“Could’ve been worse,” Ron said, “She could’ve given you a blow job.”

“Thanks!” Harry snapped.

“New birthday tradition, playing with your balls,” Ron said.

“Gee—” Harry started.

“Interesting idea,” Fred said, now standing over the back of the sofa as Hermione and Gia came back into the cabin.

“We were going to sit down—” George said.

Harry rolled his eyes; Fred and George sat on top of Harry’s legs, pushing them apart a bit so their rears were between and their bare buttocks pressed against Harry’s bare skin. Harry shrugged, decided not to object. Ron, though, sat on Harry’s stomach, Harry’s hard cock against the thigh.

“Lumpy sofa,” Ron said.

“How about a dragon?” Charlie asked while pulling some food out of the oven.

Tentacles came out of the sofa, wrapped around Ron tightly. One tentacle wrapped around, teased Ron’s hard erection. Fred and George, both startled, jumped off.

“Your sofa!” George exclaimed while the tentacles massaged into Ron’s hard cock.

Ron looked at Harry, smiled, and shrugged.

“Fred, George—?” Charlie asked.

“As much as we’d love to take credit—” Fred said.

“What’s for dinner?” Ron asked.

“Seems to be you,” George said.

Ron’s face turned purplish, but the sofa vanished, causing Ron and Harry to hit the floor, hard.

“Ow,” Harry said.

“Do you even want gifts?” Hermione asked.

“That’d be nice,” Harry said.

Harry took the chair most opposite of Ginny, sat.

“Hermione, how do we check the food?” Ron asked.

“For what?” Hermione asked.

“Anything my brothers may have added?” Ron asked.

“Tall order, I’d have to know what they’re capable of,” Hermione said.

“Anything,” George said.

“I want you to solemnly swear that it’s safe,” Harry said, “Pranks are fine, but it’s got to be safe.”

“Define safe,” Fred said, “Will we intentionally poison? No. However, unexpected side effects are normal.”

“We did not spike the dinner,” George said.

“Your dick is turning blue,” Hermione said.

“No it’s—” George started.

“It is,” Fred said.

Everybody looked at George’s hard erection, it was indeed turning blue.

“Best get that looked at, by an expert,” Ron said, nonchalantly.

“You do it then, if you’re so clever,” George said, “You’re the biggest dick around.”

“Hold those thoughts,” Fred said, escorting George back to the bathroom.

They finished dinner, and Harry went back over to the sofa that had reappeared.

“I sort of played post,” Charlie said, “Guess your trip wasn’t a complete mystery.” Charlie brought out a couple of packages.

Harry went to the first one, addressed with the recognizable typical scribble; he opened the note.


Happy Birthday! I hope you find this helpful for the year. I tried sending chocolates, but the post refused due to some export issue. Hope you’re enjoying your day and see you in September.


Attached to it, was a book, Sizzling Book of Dragons , which started to huff out flame, the smoke of which billowed and added a layer of soot to his glasses.

“Stun it!” Charlie said, recognition filled his eyes.

Harry removed his wand aimed it, the book calmed down.

“Any guesses?” Ron asked.

Harry continued with gifts, among which were Quidditch: Rules of the International Association of Quidditch from Hermione, Chudley Canons T–shirt from Ron, and a box of assorted gags from Fred and George.

“Come with me,” Gia whispered to Harry.

“Where ya going?” Ginny asked.

“Let them go,” Ron said, after he studied Harry’s eyes.

Harry and Gia left the cabin.

“Been up all day?” Gia asked, her hand touched Harry’s dick.

“Fred or George did something,” Harry said.

“Looks handsome on you,” Gia said, “Hermione mentioned a spot.”

Gia led the way, along the lane, turning into the stone trees, but stopped before the trees took a hard right.

“Um…there might be dragons,” Harry said.

“You’re a wizard, so surely you ought to be able to handle a dragon,” Gia said.

“Of course,” Harry said, unsure himself, but felt like he ought to agree.

Gia took the first step, Harry with her, into the open field, toward the pond.

“They see boys all the time, of course,” Gia said, “Dragons don’t see girls very often, and rarely do they witness…us.”

“I didn’t think they hired girls to keep the dragons,” Harry said.

“Bit chauvinistic?” Gia asked.

“Maybe,” Harry said, “Doubt the boys keep their activities off the field.”

“Well,” Gia said, “I’ll ignore that.” She turned to Harry, the evening sun still on them. “I wanted to tell you, Happy Sixteenth Birthday.”

“Thank you,” Harry said.

“Also, I’ve been tracking my cycle,” Gia said, “Today’s a good day.”

“Your what?” Harry asked.

“Means I can’t get pregnant, so you don’t need a condom,” Gia said.

“Oh—OH!” Harry said.

Gia held both of his hands.

“I’m glad to have met you,” Gia said, “Happy Birthday.”

“I know,” Harry said.

“All this sweat,” Gia said, her hands slipped to his hips.

“Oh—OH!” Harry said, now understanding her intent.

Harry held her hands, leaned in, kissed. She wrapped her arms around him, hugged; her nipples pushed into his chest. He lifted his elbow, let her sniff closer to his armpit. She lifted her legs, he wasn’t expecting the weight shift, and they tumbled.

“Sorry,” Gia said.

“I’m fine,” Harry said, rolling onto his back.

“Heard that Ginny—” Gia started.

“She—they—like I could curse her!” Harry said, “Felt me up.”

“How?” Gia asked.

Harry brought his knees to his chest, legs spread, kept his balls up.

“Like this,” Harry said, “She got off feeling my balls!”

“Nice balls,” Gia said, massaging into Harry’s loose sack.

“You—you, I love,” Harry said, “She, she’s in love with my legend. Can we not—?”

“I like them,” Gia said, knealing in closer, she kissed right between the sweaty lumps. “Feel better?”

“Again!” Harry quipped.

Gia laughed for a moment, before she kissed them. A dragon in red, curled up, watched them. Harry giggled. Gia straddled him, pinning his legs beneath hers, she leaned down to face him.

“You’ve matured, Mister,” Gia said, “You fought the demons, at least enough to have fun, that’s what matters.”

Gia adjusted his hard erection as she sat up, it slipped in.

“Different,” Harry said.

Gia, though, despite the dragon watching, flexed, her fingers guided his shaft as it slipped inside her.

“Like I said, Happy Birthday,” Gia said, “Sixteenth birthday means I should do this sixteen times, or this—” she slapped his buttocks “—sixteen times?”

“First choice,” Harry said.

Gia kept flexing, letting his shaft slip and slide, inside her. She heard his shallow breaths, smelled his sweat, as she felt herself bear down.

“Oh, oh,” Gia said, as she felt the first orgasm as she also felt his. She slid off, and they watched the rest of the white semen pour out of his tip.

“Thank you,” Harry said.

“Magic or not, best to return,” Gia said.

Harry stood up, let the white pendulum remain; followed Gia back toward the stone trees.

“That dragon seemed interested,” Harry said.

“Might’ve been my fault,” Gia said, “We…I meant Hermione and me, we had a little talk with some of the dragons. That one seemed interested, so I promised we’d show it. Maybe its because I’m not a witch, but I could’ve sworn its the dragons staying just to keep the humans under observation.”

“No wonder I fell in love with you,” Harry said, “You and Hagrid would get along splendidly.”

A jab woke Ginny, waking up on the floor of the bedroom, as Charlie tripped over her on top of her sleeping pad.

“Sorry,” Charlie said.

“It’s early,” Ginny said.

“No, I’m late for work,” Charlie said, “Be back later.”

Charlie strapped on his holster, put in his wand, and left. Ginny, however, got up, left the bedroom. She saw Harry, laying on his back on the sofa, butt that had pushed the armrest down so it was on the edge, legs hanging over the edge, shaking as he slept.

“No…no…” Harry muttered along with the clicking of teeth as his jaw trembled.

Snoring hinted that Ron, Hermione, and Gia were up in the loft. Ginny lifted Harry’s legs as she knelt, resting his knees on her shoulders. Her eyes feasted on the loose lumps of his testicles; two lumps apart resting against his thighs. Her hands reached around his legs, felt the pubic hair, before holding his soft penis upright. Her left fingers held the fleshy sausage, while her right felt up his ridge, and it was wet.

“Watch out…” Harry muttered, his breathng changed.


Ginny smelled the foul odor as it left the anus, currently aimed toward her. She leaned forward, her chin pushing against the two soft lumps, sniffed at his penis instead, letting his musk overpower the gas. Her eyes watched the stiffening penis leaving its berth in his thick black pubic hair, jutting upward, the foreskin retracted. She studied the slit, trickling liquid out, realizing the wetness was more than sweat, that Harry was slowly pissing himself in his sleep. Still, she took the erection as an invitation, rested her chin on his balls, and licked the ridge of his penis. Bitterness and saltiness on her tongue, along with wafts of urine drifted into her nostrils, did not deter her, as she was licking Harry Potter’s dick. Her tongue moved to clean the pink glans, circuling the shoulder, sliding over the small surges coming out of his slit, accepting the liquid as the price to pay for the chance to taste the penis she fancied.


Ron slid down the ladder.

“Oh,” Ron said, seeing Ginny licking Harry’s hard cock while Hermione climbed down the ladder.

Ginny, though, moved to let Harry’s stiffness enter her mouth. She licked, lapped, the flesh, traced the foreskin. Her hands squeezed on his testicles, she felt a spasm in his shaft.

“What the—?” Harry stammered.

Ginny pulled back as Gia simply poked her head down from the trapdoor; his hard cock swung as Ginny returned to simply watching. White shot upward as Harry’s orgasm started, the snot flew upward as the second salvo started out. Pulse after pulse, Harry’s semen ejaculated, landing on his stomach. His dick was still oozing when Harry’s legs bent back up to his knees, the feet planted themselves onto Ginny’s shoulders, and he pushed her backward. Harry’s feet moved, he stood up.

“STAY AWAY!” Harry barked at Ginny, and went for the door.

Ron followed.

“Harry!” Ron yelled.

Harry stopped, turned around, and glared at Ron, a few steps outside the cabin. Gia watched from the open door.

“You keep your sister away from me!” Harry barked.

“She only gave you head,” Ron said.

“Only?!” Harry said, “Yes, I’m naked, that doesn’t mean I should wake up to her using me as a drinking fountain!”

“If it were Hermione?” Ron asked.

“That’s different,” Harry said, “Think we ought to be heading out!”

“No, not yet,” Ron said as Harry’s Firebolt came from the cabin.

Ginny rushed out with Ron’s Firebolt, handed it over as Harry mounted his. Harry took off, Ron followed. Harry flew over to the small Quidditch pitch, landed, and he glared at Ron.

“You WATCHED!” Harry seethed.

“It’s just Ginny,” Ron said.

“Part of the conspiracy?” Harry said, “The Weasley belief that Ginny is my true love?”

“NO!” Ron snapped.

“Even your Mum thought it,” Harry said.

“Leave her out of this!” Ron retorted.

“No,” Harry said, “She was nice and all, but I was still the Boy–Who–Lived! I’m sorry, but I’m having Gia, not Ginny!”

“She’s being friendly!” Ron protested.

“Good morning blowjob?” Harry said, “What next, sex? It’s MY PENIS! Not hers. As she can’t understand that, think it’s best to clear off, leave.”

Ron shook his head.

“Fine, take the fast way back,” Harry said, “Me and Gia—”

“No,” Ron said, “Let Ginny witness you and Gia, do it on the sofa, or the dining room table.”

“We’re not a peep show,” Harry retorted.

“I’m talking about making it clear, to Ginny, that you’re taken,” Ron said, “You’re popping her fantasies, she needs them popped.” Ron’s stomach growled. “I’ll be having breakfast.”

Ron mounted his broom, flew back to the cabin.

“Harry kicked me!” Ginny protested.

“You were touching his dick!” Ron said, “If he were to touch you—”

“He wouldn’t know what hit him,” Ginny said, “But this is Harry Potter we’re talking about, he’s a guy—”

Ron quickly grabbed her tits. hands wrapped around them, nipples bared between the ring of his fingers, squeezing the mounds.

“Yeah? So what?” Ron said to her, “He shouldn’t be molested just because he’s naked!”

“He belongs to me,” she said.

“What if Mum were here?” Ron asked.

“She’d be helping me with the love potions!” she said, “Wondering whether you two are gay!”

“Am not!” Ron snapped.

“Keep handling them and I’ll tell everybody we’re banging!” Ginny said.

“Don’t you dare—” Ron started.

“Or, rape?” Ginny asked.

Ron let go, Ginny ran out of the cabin. Harry came in a couple of moments later.

“Good,” Harry said, “Normally I love your family—”

“Don’t say it,” Ron warned.

Harry sat on the dining table.

“These,” Harry said, pointing to his balls resting on the table top, “Just because I like them to be loose and free doesn’t mean for her to just—best if we moved on.”

“Gotta admit—” Ron briefly held Harry’s penis “—long and slender, and these—” he ran his fingers across the scrotum “—whereas this—” he ran his fingers into the pubic hair “—is an eyecatcher.”

“Thanks Ron,” Harry said, sarcastically.

“There’s much more to you, of course,” Ron said, “Ginny—she’s fixated there, she thinks she’s entitled to them.”

“I figured that much myself,” Harry said, dryly.

“You need to have sex,” Ron said.

“Gee, thanks,” Harry said, glaring.

“With Gia, who did you think I meant?” Ron said, “Make it…dinner entertainment, be sure my sister gets front row; maybe she’ll understand, you’re already taken.”

“I…that could work,” Harry said.

“Better believe it,” Ron said, “Besides, we needed the break, I mean, with us naked and close, from each other, just a bit. That’s why I wasn’t thinking about us leaving until tomorrow at the earliest, maybe even Sunday.”

“We do have to make it back in time for Hogwarts,” Harry said.

“We got here in…like in four weeks,” Ron said, “Can make it back in three.”

“Alright, we’ll stay,” Harry said, “On one condition.”

“Name it,” Ron said.

“No, not saying, not until later,” Harry said, “I’ll find Gia, she’ll keep me hard.”

Harry got off the table, grabbed a sweet roll, and left the cabin.

Harry walked along the lane, to the small lap swimming pool. Hermione was laying on a lounge chair reading Trevigro’s Guide to Dragon Healing . Harry walked past her to the edge of the pool, spreading his legs a bit; she glanced at the backside to the freely hanging testicles between his legs, as Harry watched Gia, in the pool. She came to the end, began to turn around.

“Ahem,” Harry said, “Gotta tap my—”

Gia reached up, tapped his dick, before turning to a new lap.

“Always showing those off,” Hermione said.

“You like it?” Harry asked.

Hermione scrutinized the loose scrotum for a moment.

“Nice ornamentals,” Gia said, coming to a halt. She reached up, tapped the low hanging balls beneath the stiffening erection.

“See?” Harry replied to Hermione.

“Keep swimming?” Gia asked as her hands wiggled his balls in his heat stretched scrotum, “Need a better view.”

Harry squatted, let Gia keep studying the stiff dick as she retracted his foreskin; she kissed the glans.

“Hard working?” Harry asked.

Gia removed his glasses, pulled his balls forward. He followed, until his feet were on the edge of the pool. She reached, grabbed his shoulders, and pulled his weight; Harry tumbled into the pool as Ginny came into the area.

“Charlie’s back from the other field,” Ginny said, “Was wondering what you were up to.”

Harry, however, used Gia to shield most of himself from Ginny.

“Harry and Gia are being Harry and Gia,” Ron said, accompanying Ginny, “Though this’ll make for a hot date. Coming Hermione?”

Hermione got up.

“Just shrunk things, come so they loosen back up,” Gia said to Harry.

Harry and Gia followed.

“Hold em, find out,” Harry whispered into Gia’s ear.

Gia reached, held his dick as they followed.

Harry’s loose testicles wanted to swing freely, instead, were hitting Gia’s hands as she held them; his erection was stiff, stayed out of the way, as they both entered Charlie’s cabin late in the evening. Ron was already sitting at the dining table with his balls and loose dick hanging over the edge of the chair, eating some chicken. Hermione was on the sofa. Charlie was sitting to the kitchen side, next to Ginny, eyes on Adam. Adam, though, was leaning against the back of the soft, erection hard, and taking no effort to hide it.

“You nearly missed dinner,” Adam said.

“But we’re cooler now,” Harry said, before softening his voice to Gia only, “As we discussed.”

Gia crawled onto the dining table, on her hands and knees, the tray of chicken beneath them; her butt facing Ginny.

“What?” Ginny asked.

“Some people like to be animals when they eat,” Ron said, nonchalantly.

Harry, though, got up onto his knees, on the table, behind Gia; both balls hanging loosely beneath the butt that’s now Ginny’s main view.

“It’s supposed to be dinner,” Charlie said.

“Best be going—” Ginny started.

“STAY!” Ron barked to Ginny, “You stay put!”

Harry, stayed kneeling there, on the dining table, waiting.

“They’re about to—” Ginny started to protest.

“He’s showing you,” Ron said, “You’re the President to the Hogwarts Chapter of the Unofficial Harry Potter Fan Club and he’s showing you! So watch!”

“Student Co–President!” Ginny snapped at Ron.

“What are you up to?” Charlie asked Ron.

“Yeah, get closer if you need a better view,” Harry said to Ginny, “Can you see?”

“Yes,” Ginny said, sarcastically.

“Here?” Harry asked as he rested the tip of his hard erection between Gia’s buttocks.

“No,” Ginny said.

Harry moved his tip down, held it against the folds.

“Ready?” Harry asked.

Adam and Charlie kept quiet, watched.

“Can’t believe you’re—” Ginny muttered.

“Yeah, ready,” Ron said, “Go ahead.”

Ginny lowered her head, Harry’s balls against her forehead as she watched close enough to make her go cross eyed, watched as Harry’s had shaft sunk itself between the labia, penetrating into Gia; close enough that Ginny could smell Harry’s musk.

“Pay attention, this’ll be the only time you’ll see this,” Harry said to Ginny.

Harry flexed his hips, his testicles swung, bounced between Gia and Ginny, hitting them both as he drilled; his hard erection repeatedly searching, exploring, within Gia. Slipping in and out, his dick moved, until he held it against Gia for a moment. Harry pulled out, his tip was dripping with white.

“You put him up to this, didn’t you?” Charlie asked Ron, while Gia climbed off.

Harry turned around, sat for a moment on the table, facing Ginny.

“You’re a Weasley so I don’t want to curse you,” Harry said, “But realize, I’m taken and it’s NOT you!”

Harry reached for a leg of chicken, got off the table, sat on the sofa.

“That was…cruel,” Hermione said.

“After waking up to Ginny giving me a blowjob?” Harry replied as Gia sat next to him, “Tempered is more like it.”

“That’s what happened this morning?” Charlie asked.

“Yep,” Ron said.

“Ginny…” Charlie started.

Ginny, though, in tears, ran out of the cabin. Charlie ran after her; Adam followed.

“It was cruel,” Hermione said.

“What else am I to do?” Harry asked, “Run away? Forbid her from getting within a hundred feet? I don’t care if she tickles herself as she lusts, but I must be able to trust her not thrusting herself onto me.”

“Ginny needed the lesson,” Ron said.

“Still, it was cruel,” Hermione said, before her eyes turned to Gia, “And you went along with it.”

“Ginny looks at these—” Gia held Harry’s testicles, rubbed his softening penis, “—and she can’t help herself. I do understand that! I mean, these are gorgeous, right?”

Hermione’s eyes watched as Gia’s right hand played.

“If Mum were around…” Ron said, “Well, she nor Dad would’ve stopped Ginny, likely don’t understand why the famous Harry Potter would be sensitive there, but he’s just like the rest of us. And Ginny, she needed the hard lesson, and I’m her brother, it’s an obligation that..sorry Hermione, you’re an only child so you won’t truly understand.”

“Don’t patronize me!” Hermione snapped.

“Ron, got something for you,” Harry said, “Right before bed.”

“What is it?” Ron asked.

“Later,” Harry said, his bottle green eyes staring directly at Ron’s.

“What are you planning?” Hermione asked.

“Nothing,” Harry said, feigning ignorance.

“Must agree with Gia here,” Ron said, “Harry’s got some fine balls, right Hermione?”

“Yeah, sure,” Hermione said, “Harry’s a friend.”

“Though mine are better,” Ron said, standing in front of Hermione, legs slightly apart, holding up his dick so she could get a clear view of his loose testicles; he shook his hips and the balls swung before her.

“Those are nice,” Hermione said, her eyes turned back to the book in her hands.

“This ought to be interesting,” Ron said, letting his penis flop back down. It began to stiffen.

“About to smack you,” Hermione said, “I can go for that, or turn around so I get your butt instead.”

Ron began to turn as Ginny came back into the cabin; she sat the side profile of his growing penis.

“I didn’t need to see that,” Ginny said.

“Don’t knock it!” Ron snapped, turning back so his hard erection faced Hermione.

Charlie entered.

“I don’t mind you all having sex so long as you keep it discreet and I can plead ignorance!” Charlie said, “Dad’s bound to ask questions!”

“I don’t mind seeing it,” Adam said, “Keep it up!”

“You would say that, wouldn’t you?” Charlie retorted.

“You like it too,” Adam said, “You can’t hide it.”

Both Charlie and Adam were sporting their own hard erections.

“This place is full of DICKS!” Ginny exclaimed, angry.

“Um…we do work,” Charlie said, “Best to get some sleep.”

Charlie made for the back bedroom; Adam followed.

“You’re not sleeping with me,” Hermione said to Ron, “And a shower would do you good.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, grabbing a wooden box.

Harry and Ron left the cabin, walked over to the outdoor shower, the moon on the horizon.

“Taking a shower too?” Ron asked.

“Nah,” Harry said, “Gia likes me smelly and sweaty—to a point, then I have to clean.”

“Hermione’s not as admired about me like that,” Ron said.

“We both know her,” Harry said, “Hermione’s…she buries her emotions, so while she does love us, I mean, why else would she run around naked with us?”

“True,” Ron said, stepping into the water of the shower.

“Guess I’ll wash up too,” Harry said, stepping into the shower, next to Ron. Harry used the soap, lathered up Ron’s back before he worked on himself. “It was cruel, doing that to Ginny, I likely couldn’t have done it if you didn’t suggest it.”

“How many times have we covered for you and me?” Ron asked, “It’s the same thing, somebody you love is in the wrong, gotta take care of it before it festers. As Ginny’s brother, I can’t let her stay wrong.”

“Nice argument,” Harry said, cleaning his own butt crack.

“Because you’re right,” Ron said, “Ginny’s had a crush on you—for all of Hogwarts, I think. Mum likely encouraged it, too. I mean, start off friendly, then go deeper.”

“That’s you too?” Harry asked.

Ron turned to Harry, put both hands around Harry, onto the buttocks, and pulled Harry upward the several inches until their faces were level. Ron’s right moved to hold both of the buttocks, while the left held Harry’s testicles.

“Whether you agree with Mum’s motives or not,” Ron said, “She was right, you needed friends, ones that’ll tolerate your ugly sides enough so that you can trust with your butt and your balls.”

Harry squirmed, Ron put him back down.

“Got me there,” Harry said, reaching to hold Ron’s still hard cock.

“Exactly,” Ron said, “What’s this thing you got for me?”

Harry handed Ron a towel, grabbed one for himself. They dried. Harry grabbed the wooden box, opened it, inside were a bunch of taffees. Harry grabbed the blackest of them, handed it to Ron.

“Dare I ask?” Ron asked.

“Fred wanted me to try them out,” Harry said.

“You volunteered?” Ron asked.

“Yeah, you,” Harry said, “Try it.”

Ron laughed for a moment. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, “It’s not Polyjuice.”

“I wasn’t thinking that,” Ron said.

“Please, do it,” Harry said.

“If anything goes wrong—” Ron started.

“I think the taffee’s alright,” Harry said.

Ron popped it out of the wax wrapper, into his mouth, chewed it for a bit. As he chewed, his red hair darkened under the moonlight, turning black.

“It’s hair color?” Ron asked.

“Easier than the Muggle way,” Harry said, “Not sure how long it’ll last, but figured you’d be sleeping for most of it.”

“Any side effects?” Ron asked as they started to head back to the cabin.

“Just one that I can think of,” Harry said as they entered the cabin. Soft light inside showed them as both having jet black hair. “I think Hermione wants you to sleep on the sofa.”

“Yeah,” Ron said, laying down on it.

Harry, meanwhile, went up the ladder into the loft.

Chapter Text

Ron still felt like sleeping Friday morning, on the hard surface, however, the slobber on his hard erection, the sensation that had woken him, kept him from falling back to sleep. However, he kept his eyes closed, figuring it was Hermione apologizing, as she had done it before. A bit rough as the tongue went to lick his balls; again, Ron didn’t protest, as Hermione had done this before, apologize to him as he slept, sometimes he caught it, other times, Harry and Gia had; Ron accepted it, because Hermione loved him, even if she had difficulty saying it to his face, his balls were willing participants in their ritual.

“Hey Harry,” Ron heard Gia whisper in the distance.

Ron’s hands could feel the edges of the coffee table beneath him, he figured Hermione felt the sofa was too comfortable for an apology, or needed his testicles to be easier to lean into; still, his legs were mostly over the edge, feet resting with his heels on the short fiber rug of the living room. A couple of minutes later, the tongue stopped.

“Done?” Ron muttered.

Instead, Ron felt the parting of flesh, as the exposed glans on his hard shaft lead the charge, plunging inward. Apology sex, Ron figured, he’d willingly take that. Ron cracked his eyes, a bit, the back seemed a tad lighter than he was expecting Hermione’s skin to be, as they had been developing good tans on the trip. Hips flexed, Ron’s erection slipped in and out of the vulva, that felt wrong. Ron glanced upward, saw the blond hair of the girl.

“Gia?” Ron asked as he felt the pressure build up, the urges and the tremors go through him.

“GINNY!” Charlie shouted.

Ron saw a taffee wrapper, a blond one, nearby as the pressure released. He suddenly understood, as Ron still had the jet black hair, the black pubic, and the girl had blond hair. It wasn’t Gia, but instead, his sister, Ginny, who was quickly scrambling off of Ron.

“Wha—?!” Ron exclaimed, cut off as his dick refused to cede its role as star of the morning show. Everybody watched as the first salvo soared upward, his semen sailed up before falling back down, onto the stomach, while subsequent jets surged upward, as he orgasmed, ejaculating.

“You’re not—” Ginny started, finger pointed at Ron.

“I’m Harry,” Harry said, jumping down from the loft.

“Excuse me?” Charlie asked as Harry turned toward him.

“Best we be leaving now,” Harry said, extending a hand, “Thank you for your hospitality, it was appreciated.” Harry turned his head up the ladder. “Hermione, Gia, come, we’re taking off!”

“You’re going?” Ginny said, as Hermione came down the ladder, “Use Floo Powder—”

“No,” Ron said, as Hermione came down, “You fail to understand.”

“As to you,” Harry said, approaching Ginny, “I shouldn’t have to plan on you raping me!”

Ginny cried as Harry went for the door.

“Next time, let Colin die his hair and use him,” Harry stated as he went out.

“You knew that’d happen?!” Ron stammered, following Harry.

“Yep,” Harry said, heading up the lane. Gia and Hermione following. “Nice thing about being naked, nothing to pack!”

“You set the siblings up?” Hermione asked.

“Like Ron said, we needed to teach Ginny a lesson,” Harry said.

“You could’ve explained it!” Ron snapped.

They left the dragon reservation, Harry pulled out his Firebolt.

“Can’t be serious!” Hermione said.

“SEP,” Harry said, mounting it, “It’s a long walk to the station.”

Gia climbed on, behind Harry, wrapped her arms around him.

“Unless you want to travel separately,” Harry said.

“We’re coming,” Ron said, pulling out his Firebolt.

Hermione got on behind Ron. They cast their SEP, and flew upward; hugging the trees as they went over the snow capped ridge. They flew back down the other side, along the forest.

They made it onto the train. Hermione and Gia went for a different carriage. Harry and Ron took a four seater, faced each other, both with jet black hair.

“Look, I’m sorry it had to come to that,” Harry said.

Harry took his penis, aimed it upward. Both him and Ron watched the yellow jet form, as Harry peed upward, it arched over, and soaked into the carpet between them.

“We could’ve done something else—” Ron said.

“It proved the point,” Harry said, “She’s not really into me, just the legend.”

“You let my sister have sex with me!” Ron said.

“You were awake by then,” Harry said, “Thought you wanted to.”

“I thought it was Hermione until I opened my eyes,” Ron said.

“Ginny is not Hermione,” Harry said.

“I know!” Ron snapped.

Harry’s feet reached over, he wiggled his butt until his toes could reach, and his toes began to knead into Ron’s scrotum, calming Ron.

“Sorry about that,” Harry said, “I figured she wasn’t going to stop until she had sex, and I don’t want to give it to her—she’s trying to steal it, and your Mum’d endorse it!”

“Leave Mum out of this,” Ron said.

“I like them being nice and all,” Harry said, “Big step to go from that to this…guess I’m one to talk.”

Ron glanced to where Harry was looking; Harry’s toes massaging into Ron’s hard erection.

“By the way, this is also being friendly,” Ron said.

“I’m glad I found Gia,” Harry said, “I didn’t want us fighting over Hermione.”

“Oh, she’s the backup?” Ron asked.

“Your sister was fooled by hair coloring,” Harry said, “She’s not in love with me, and that matters, it matters to me. Sure, I’d rescue, be nice, and the like, but in the end, would it be love? No. Hermione—yes, it’d be love, but it’d leave you as a third wheel. If we fought and you won, it’d still be bad to us, and I’d lose you. I want to keep you as a friend.”

“You certainly seem like friends,” Hermione said, returning to them, Gia following. Their eyes at Harry’s feet, on Ron’s thighs, kneading into his stomach, while the heels were into the black pubic hair.

“Just needed a footrest,” Harry said, “Sit.”

Hermione sat next to Harry, while Gia sat next to Ron.

“What are the travel plans?” Hermione asked.

“Dunno,” Harry said, “Wherever this train goes.”

“It’s headed east, away from England,” Hermione said, “It’s going to Crimea.”

“Where’s that?” Ron asked.

“Ukraine,” Gia said.

“Still in Europe?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Hermione said.

“Fine, we’ll go there, and be sure to travel west afterwards,” Harry said.

“Better before we end up in Tokyo,” Hermione said.

“That’s an island,” Gia said.

“Knowing Harry, he’d find a way,” Hermione said.

“Let’s not stress over this,” Harry said, “This’s supposed to be relaxing and fun!”

It was still nighttime, very early in the morning before the sun even considered to rise, when both Harry and Ron stumbled out of the train station on the southeast Crimean peninsula1, tumbled over the railing into the green patch in front of the station; both fell to sleep, neither worried about Ron’s fingers curled about Harry’s penis.

“They—” Hermione started.

“Let them sleep,” Gia said, yawning, “Might join them.”

“Hostel,” Hermione said, “Quite—friendly too!”

“Then you fail to understand,” Gia said.

“I’m—” Hermione started.

“You’re intelligent, Gia said, sitting down at a bench, “You’re smarter than me, so maybe you’re just a bit more suspicious. Harry simply wants to be open, to be intimate, with me, with you, and with Ron; he wants us all to be good friends, that’s all there is to it. He wants to be able to rest his balls on your hand, and know that nothing bad will happen to them, even while you’re holding a knife in the other.”

Hermione snorted.

“Harry is not looking at us as two couples,” Gia said, “He’s looking at us as a foursome. He wants me, he wants you, and he wants Ron; I think he’s got enough room in his heart for all of us, and I think Ron’s got the same. Don’t you agree?”

“I suppose,” Hermione said, “I wasn’t counting on them—”

“They’d remind us that we started it,” Gia said, “Maybe we did start this little misadventure for the wrong reason, even making them blow each other; Harry’s holding our feet to the fire, making sure we get the right reason from it. Maybe its just me being his girlfriend, to try to figure Harry out, but it’s also my job to figure him out, and there’s not much that you need to know except that he’s an orphan seeking a loving family. We are his loving family, and you’re a member of that.”

“Glad you’ve given this a thought,” Hermione said.

“I figure you’ll have a lot to worry about,” Gia said, “I can worry about Harry. He’s craving us, and I intend to let him have it. I don’t plan to worry if he has a need to bang you, or, even Ron there, because he wants it open, he wants the trust, to know that we all can handle it.”

“He’s really trusting,” Hermione said.

“Is is faith in you well placed or misplaced?” Gia said, “Only you can answer that. Though, Ron’s confident in you, he seems to be giving Harry a lot of thought too.”

“Can only wonder why,” Hermione said, glancing over at Ron aiming Harry’s peeing penis, both still sleeping.

“They’ll both deny it,” Gia said, “They love each other too, but we’ll let them continue to deny it, because otherwise, it wouldn’t be them.”

“So, what is there to do in—K…” Ron started as they walked.

“Advertisement in the stations said a music festival,” Hermione said, “Koktebel has one, apparently.”

They walked along the road, headed toward the beach to the Black Sea. Rumbling, loud, and Jazz music came to their ears.

“Culture, at last,” Gia said.

“What?” Ron asked.

“You’re nice to hang around,” Gia said, “Something a bit more is desired.”

“Festivals mean people,” Ron said, “Harry, we’re talking people…”

They crested the small hill, the sand and rock covered shore below; pinkness as the beach had a number of people.

“A naked music festival?” Hermione said, “Well, you ought to feel at home.”

Suddenly self–conscious, both Harry’s and Ron’s dicks immediately began to stiffen, they were both hard by the time they mixed into the crowd.

“Keep them up!” Gia said to both Ron and Harry.

Quickly, Harry and Ron got recruited into a small dance, holding hands, walking around in a circle. And though both erections were firm, jutting outward, and not hidden; few seemed to stare, instead, the clapping kept Ron and Harry moving with the group. Harry felt his bladder filling up, demanding to release, though the tempo and the foreign language helped keep his muscles tight. The music came to an end, they ended up in an outward facing line to see the spectators. They started to release hands when they stopped, to pay attention to Harry’s hard erection as he couldn’t resist the pressure. Yielding to the urge, Harry began to pee, his stream flowing, and clapping came to this.

“Harry,” Ron whispered.

Harry, though, kept urinating, the cheers and applause kept up, until he finished.

“Well, no need to ask about a loo stop for you,” Hermione said.

“Harry, she and I’ll—” Ron started.

“No need to ask what’s on your minds,” Hermione said.

“Hermione!” Harry grabbed her shoulders, his eyes focused on her eyes. “This festival obviously celebrating the beauty of the human body, and they’re right! You are beautiful, inside and out. It’s more than words, I mean it, mind?” Harry tapped his hard dick against her stomach.

“I’m cool with it,” Ron said.

“Me too,” Gia said.

“Here?” Hermione asked.

“Right here,” Harry said, “Can I?”

“Guess so—sure,” Hermione said, “As long as you…”

She glanced down, the glimmer of the magic condom sheathed Harry’s hard cock as he pushed inward. Harry worked at it for a couple of moments, not bothering about the crowd watching, and he pulled out a dick dripping with white.

“Meet you at—where?” Harry asked.

“There was a Mexican restaurant two blocks that way,” Hermione said pointing, “There, in…how long?”

“Evening,” Ron said.

Ron and Hermione walked south, while Harry and Gia went north.

“Harry just…” Hermione started.

“He loves you and thought you needed it,” Ron said.

“You’re not having problems?” Hermione asked.

Ron found a picnic table outside a small cafe, pulled out his journal, and sat down.

“I do find it a bit tough,” Ron said, “But as he said before Paris, sometimes we just have to jump and trust.”

Ron dipped his quill, began to write in it.

“Notes, again?” Hermione asked.

“I didn’t have a chance away from him yesterday, now, did I?” Ron said, “And waking up to Ginny…that’s important to note.”

“That didn’t sit well with you, either?” Hermione asked.

“She’s my sister!” Ron said, “Of course not!”

“You and Gia both are studying Harry,” Hermione said, “Anything I can help with?”

“Be yourself with an open mind, that’s all,” Ron said, “I mean, between Gia and me, we can figure Harry out. For the rest of everything, we need you.”

“And you watched as he—not perfect, he needs some help,” Hermione said.

“So, he’s got potential?” Ron asked.

“Yes,” Hermione replied.

“I agree,” Ron said, “Might’ve been a bit slow, but he also sees you as beautiful, just like I do.”

“Oh, trying to fuck?” Hermione asked.

“Of course,” Ron said, “It’s well shown that fucking improves relationships.”

“Oh,” Hermione said, her eyebrows arched upward.

“Lemme finish this entry and we’ll go back,” Ron said, “Find a dance, a show, that lets them watch us fuck, maybe as the finale.”

“Sex must be the only thing you boys think about,” Hermione said.

Ron stood, held her.

“You are beautiful, being naked captures it even better,” Ron said, “You saw them back there, old folks, and we’re the young folks. I’m not ashamed to say that I love you, to show that I love you, and for us to celebrate that. They’ll see how beautiful our love is, and I’m fine with that.”

“Trying to be romantic?” Hermione asked.

“Of course, with you,” Ron said, smiling, “Only a few more moments and we’ll go back.”

They spent the day at the music festival. It was toward the end when Ron got his chance. They got involved into a dance, that as best as Ron could figure out, set to the ethnic music, was a ballad over a romance. Quickly, only Ron and Hermione were left standing. Cheers, eager eyes, claps, including Harry’s applause, joined in as Hermione bent over. Standing right behind her, Ron drove his erection into Hermione, her butt came to rest against his groin while his shaft was buried into her. Applause met their ears, and a clap started up.


Ron pulled mostly out.


Ron pushed in. He kept pushing and pulling, drilling in step with the clap, until he felt the release. He pulled out, cheers greeted his ejaculating hard penis.

“An alternate ending,” Hermione said.

“Huh?” Ron asked.

“You really should learn a second language,” Hermione said, as they bowed to accept the end.

“What do you mean?” Ron said, joining the crowd “I thought we were supposed to—”

“You were supposed to kill her,” Gia said.

“What?” Ron stammered.

“Yeah,” Harry said as they left the beach. They approached a cafe, sat at an open table.

“I don’t understand,” Ron said.

“As it was explained to us,” Harry said, “It’s a tragedy, she betrayed you, and you were supposed to kill her in a fit of murderous rage. Instead, you made up, nobody seemed disappointed, so don’t worry.”

“Oh,” Ron said, “Well, I still love you Hermione, I couldn’t pretend to kill you.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said.

“Still, I like having the audience,” Harry said.

“Makes up for any shortcomings,” Gia said.

“You’re addicted,” Hermione said.

“What shortcomings?” Harry asked.

“You’re better,” Gia said, “Not perfect—don’t worry, we’ll help you.” She rubbed his penis as the waiter came to take their order.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Gia left Kotebel; visited Kiev, Warsaw, Berlin before finding themselves going across the Vltava on the pedestrian–only St. Charles bridge in Prague, walking rather slowly as as Ron put his toes into every crack between the paver stones. Ron’s red hair was freshly trimmed, both on the head, and tidied edges on his pubic hair; his nipples firm, but the breeze gave him goosebumps on his skin while his genitals still hung loose.

“Smells good,” Gia said, sniffing the air for the roasted nuts.

Harry stopped at the vendor, bought two bags; handed one to Ron, while he shared the other with Gia.

“Money, money, money,” Ron muttered.

“Will you stop that?” Hermione asked.

“But it’s—” Ron started.

“Look down,” Hermione commanded.

Ron glanced downward, though he paused to piss, letting the yellow stream hit the bricks; he walked carefully to avoid his freshly watered spots.

“I mean—nobody is even looking for your wallet,” Hermione said, “They see your gorgeous dick and they aren’t measuring it in Galleons.”

“You called it gorgeous—?” Ron started.

“HARRY!” Hermione bellowed.

Harry turned around and faced them. Ron stopped and stood still.

“Don’t you think Ron’s todger is gorgeous?” Hermione asked.

“You’re asking me—?” Harry asked.

“Don’t tell me you can’t see his stuff,” Hermione stated.

Harry’s eyes flickered between the two faces, Ron who seemed keen on the opinion and Hermione who wanted him to reassure Ron. Harry’s eyes drifted down to what he had been seeing for ages, accidental glances for years to the loss of inhibition for the past month, but being called to judge upon the friend’s penis was a different matter, suddenly moving the ordinary back into awkward. Harry studied the thick, deeply red, pubic hair, trimmed to stay above the crotch, keeping the snake cozy over the loose balls. Harry surveyed the testicles, stretching the scrotum as low as it could in the warm air. Harry studied the partially excited penis, as Ron tried to control the swelling; it thicker than Harry’s, but a bit shorter, with the foreskin that couldn’t quite cover the glans had already retracted to let the full softness soak in the sunshine. Harry’s eyes were drawn to the slit, at the tip of the stiffening penis, where a bit of clear dew moistened as it slipped out as Harry kept thinking about his answer. Harry watched Ron’s penis, where it, despite Ron’s will, ratcheted upward to present itself, hard and ready for use.

“If Ron weren’t a friend,” Harry said, “I’d feel…erm…inadequate.”

Ron grinned.

Gia gave Harry a kiss to the cheek, his own shaft took the bait, grew into another hard erection, jutting outward, and casting its shadow onto the bridge deck.

“See?” Hermione said to Ron as they returned to walking.

They continued traveling, visiting Nurnberg, Munich, and Stuggard before they traveled along the Rhine, through Colonge and Düsseldorf, and onward.

It was Wednesday, the twenty first when the cruise boat came to halt along the terminal in Amsterdam.

“Good,” Hermione said, “Got some ideas of what to do.”

“So do the boys,” Gia said, as they left the boat.

“Are you thinking—?” Hermione started to as Harry and Ron.

“What?” Harry asked.

“It’s a big city,” Gia said as they entered the terminal building, “Lots to do.”

“Here,” Hermione said, grabbing a visitor map from the counter, “Van Gogh Museum , and the Anne Frank House .”

“Who?” Ron asked.

“Some girl from the second world war,” Harry said.

“She wasn’t just some girl!” Hermione snapped.

“Not important to your kind, I suppose,” Gia said.

“Kinda goes on today,” Hermione said.

They walked on, into the city, coming first to the Sex Museum .

“We’ll save that for later,” Hermione said, “Anne Frank House is one that’s best to get to early.”

They kept walking; Hermione kept steering them away from the more interesting museums, toward the one for Rembrandt, the Cheese Museum, and the Pipe Museum exploring the history of smoking; until they were finally eating dinner at a cafe.

“We’re going to explore,” Harry said, standing, “Should we find the youth hostel first, or do you want to come with us?”

“I’ll come with you,” Gia said, before glancing at Hermione, “Well somebody’s got to keep them out of trouble.”

“Hermione?” Ron asked.

Harry settled the check, and they went into the darkening evening. Still naked, their dicks swung with their walk, the pubic hair standing out. They walked along, until they came to a tight alley way, along with scantily clad women in the windows. A couple of young ones leaning against a doorway, came over, smiled and waved at the four to get their attention.

“Hi,” Harry said.

“We couldn’t but help notice you checking us out,” the first girl said, with her silky brown hair, low cut white top and lace mesh panties. “It’s not often we can check out the customers first.” She made no secret, the eyes surveyed Harry and Ron, their pubic hair on display.

“They’re just looking,” Hermione said.

“A couple?” the girl asked.

“She’s my girlfriend,” Ron said.

“Aw, a double date,” the second girl, with a red strap to hide the nipples, and a bit of fabric to cover her pussy, “I get it. You need—company?”

“We can spice up the evening,” the first girl said, “You?” Her eyes fell on Gia.

“I…” Gia stuttered.

“We’re about to get a room ourselves,” Harry said, “You know…”

“It’s our business,” the first girl said, “What’s your favorite position?”

“Um…you just do it,” Ron said.

“How old are you?” the second girl asked.

“Old enough,” Harry said.

“So, he’s good in bed?” the first girl asked Hermione.

Hermione shook her head.

“So what you need is a consultation,” the second girl said, “Not the usual request, but a little tuition, and we’ll help you put the spunk back into the bedroom, does that sound enticing?”

“Yes,” Gia said, “He’s become confident, of course, but a bit of variety would be nice.”

“What?” Hermione asked.

“Can you say the same?” Gia asked Hermione.

“Yeah,” Ron said, “Lets get help.”

“Are you mad?” Hermione asked.

“It’s here or a hotel,” Harry said, “A bit of guidance—sure.”

Ron gently held Hermione from behind, leaned forward.

“Stay out here so I have to suffer with them by myself,” Ron asked, “Or, join in the fun?”

“Boys!” Hermione said, “Yes!”

Harry handed over a bank note, they went into the building. Both Harry and Ron were sporting hard erections before they crossed in, girls smiling across the hall as they entered, turned into the first room. A large heart shaped bed, with red sheets, was in the middle, the fragrence of an over applied flower air freshner hung in the air, all bathed in red light.

“Magic begins tonight,” the first girl said, “Call me Kendra, if you need a name. She’s Levina.”

“We can definitely work with this,” Levina said, surveying both Harry and Ron.

“Yes,” Kendra said, her silky brown hair over her shoulders, her fingers held Ron’s thick hard cock, the foreskin coming up short so the slit was still visible. “Do you have…protection?”

“Don’t need it,” Ron said.

“You sure about that?” Kendra asked Hermione.

“We’ve got our own way,” Hermione said.

“Your child support,” Kendra said Ron, “We’ve got some, if you change your mind; don’t worry, it’ll fit.” Kendra caressed Ron’s hard erection. “Okay, fuck her.”

Ron grabbed Hermione, his hands held her breasts, for a moment, before lowering her onto her back on the bed, he came down on top.

“Are you trying to put her to sleep?” Kendra said, “A guy does that to me, sure it’s quick money, but doesn’t mean I get anything else out of it. Here.”

Meanwhile, Levina watched as Harry began to kiss Gia, she held his hard dick. She laid on the bed, while Harry came toward the back, aiming his hard cock for the vulva.

“A second position,” Levina said, “Here, try it differently.”

“What did you have in mind?” Harry asked, stopping.

“You’re going right for the end,” Levina said, “Good in a pinch, perhaps while sneaking something in at a family mini golf course, for instance. But here, you’ve got all night, you don’t have to do it in under a minute. Lets draw it out, make it clear you love her.”

They spent an hour before they heard the voice.

“I paid, I expect satisfaction,” said the eriely familiar greasy voice.

Ron rolled Hermione onto the floor; same with Harry taking Gia onto the shag carpet. Billowing black robes, Professor Snape was now in the small hallway, glaring at an older woman. Ron and Harry cast their SEP, just before Snape turned his head to look inward to their room, for the door had not been closed.

“As I told you on your last visit,” the madam said, “Unless you can provide a medical certificate attesting that your condition has been cleared, and submit to us examining for ourselves, you cannot be served here.”

“I paid,” Snape emphasized.

“Do you have a receipt?” the madam asked.

“I will…” Snape glanced into the room, again, his eyes seemed to dwell on Harry before he returned his gaze to the madam. “I will be filing a complaint.”

“You’re not the first!” the madam exclaimed as Snape turned around, left.

Harry and Ron dropped the spell.

“You know him?” Kendra asked.

“Teacher at our school,” Harry said.

“School? You’re students?” Levina asked.

“Yes,” Hermione said.

“We’re sixteen!” Ron protested.

“I’m not,” Hermione replied.2

“Out!” Kendra said, “Before you get our license revoked!”

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Gia left.

“Great, that solved nothing!” Ron exclaimed, his dick still hard.

“Dunno,” Harry said, jumping up to put his arms around Gia’s neck, his legs wrapping around her.

Gia’s hands held Harry’s buttocks, he kissed her. She pulled on his hips, his hard cock slipped in, pushed in between the shaved folds of skin; she pulled until it was fully immersed inside her, and they kept kissing.

“Professor Snape’s around here, somewhere,” Hermione said.

“Keep an eye out for him,” Harry said, before his tongue returned to Gia’s mouth.

Gia slowly lowered Harry’s butt, slipping his shaft outward. She pulled on his butt, his hard cock moved back inward.

“We need to find the hostel,” Hermione said.

“Lead the way,” Ron said, “They’ll follow, though I don’t think they need the room.”

“Of course not!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Relax, will you?” Ron said, “I don’t care if it’s a room or not, but if you want a room, lets find a room.”

“He doesn’t care,” Hermione said, her eyes focused on the swaying balls in the loose scrotum beneath Harry’s butt, testicles that caught smiles from people walking by.

“Nope,” Ron said, wrapping his right arm around Hermione, his hand massaged into her breast, “No reason to care, let’s find this room.”

Harry gasped slightly, relaxed, and smiled. Gia let the penis slip out, heaved a bit, to carry Harry over her shoulder. Harry was now snoring, his penis dribbling the last of his semen onto her breast.

“A bed would be good,” Gia said.

They went for the first hotel advertising vacancy, entered.

“Need his card,” Ron said.

“Harry needs to focus—” Hermione started.

“No,” Gia said, “I just don’t want to let him go. Ron, try it.”

Ron’s fingers slipped past the hairs lining the anus, into the sphincter, pulled out the card of plastic; handed it over to the cashier.

“He’ll sign in the morning,” Ron said.

Hermione took the key, they went into the lift. Two floors up, they went for the room.

“You shouldn’t have been able to do that,” Hermione said, “If Harry had asked—wait—” her eyes fell on the ring on Gia’s finger after she put Harry onto the bed “—of course, I don’t think he knew exactly what he gave you.”

“May as well put what you learned into practice,” Gia said, laying on the bed, “Come on, we certainly don’t mind sharing the bed.”

“It’s not like a switch,” Hermione said.

“Shouldn’t have to, should always be on,” Ron said, grinning.

“You—” Hermione started, “Bit crowded without doing it on Harry.”

“Why not?” Gia said, “Here, lay down, on him.”

Hermione went with Gia’s advice, sat on Harry’s stomach, laid back to let Harry’s soft penis rest against her back, legs bent so the feet were against Harry’s ribs. Ron knealt, his testicles rested on Harry’s chest, as he began to massage into Hermione’s carpet.

“Harry’s starting to pee,” Hermione said.

“Let him,” Ron said, moving himself forward, his balls dragging.

Harry calmed down a bit, the shivers stopped.

“That…he stopped, it’s weird,” Hermione said.

“It’s Harry, of course it’s weird,” Ron said, threading his hard cock into Hermione.

Ron leaned forward, his weight pushing his erection between himself and Harry, as he flexed it inward, letting his ridge slide across Harry’s stomach as it went into Hermione. Ron drilled, letting Harry’s stomach get the feel of the balls, the cock sliding, as Ron kept working on Hermione. Ron pulled out, let the orgasm get the hot semen onto the three of them, before pulling off.

“Harry’s only request will be that you do that again when he’s awake,” Gia said, “It makes him happy to see you two being happy together.”

“I’m tired too,” Ron said.

“It’s late,” Hermione said, squirming inward, between Harry and Gia. Ron curled into the mix, laid on his side, head on Gia’s stomach, shoulder against the shaved crotch, while his body and legs went underneath Gia’s right leg, all of Hermione’s and Harry’s legs. Gia pulled the covers over them, sealing Ron into darkness.

It was Friday, the twenty third, when they boarded the ferry in Rotterdam. Ron sat on the bench on the observation deck; Gia and Hermione were standing over the edge, watching the dock moving away as they headed toward Harwich; they moved around the deck, out of sight. Harry, though, leaned back against the railing, glanced at Ron’s face, recognized the green tinge forming.

“What a trip,” Harry said.

“Yeah,” Ron said.

“Glad we didn’t run into Snape again,” Harry said.

“Poor use of tuition money,” Ron said.

“Tuition?” Harry asked as the ferry passed into the North Sea.

“Yes,” Ron said, “Hogwarts charges. Didn’t … that’s right, you wouldn’t see a bill.”

“I don’t get a bill,” Harry asked, “why?”

Ron’s ears tried to twinge pink, while the face had a green look to it.

“It was in that article, about you going,” Ron said, “Think it was that inheritance…” His voice trailed off.

“Ron,” Harry exclaimed, “It’s fucking annoying! You go mad every time I handle money!”

“How’d you like it?” Ron spouted, “To be reminded you’re poor? At every activity being told we can’t afford it’?”

Harry sat down next to Ron, joining Ron’s gaze of their feet.

“Ron,” Harry said quietly and slowly, in a calming manner, “I’ve always known it since I met you, your family’s finances aren’t the greatest. Family pride keeps you from accepting charity as you like earning your keep, that I respect and admire. You know me well enough to realize I do not base friendships on pocketbooks. You have been a good friend in all the ways that count, don’t let gold divide us. Alright?”

“Yeah,” Ron said, “It still bugs me.”

“Did you have fun, this trip?” Harry asked.

“Yeah,” Ron said.

“You’ll be richer than Malfoy will ever be,” Harry said, “My friends matter to me.”

“Thank you,” Ron said.

Harry reached over, held Ron’s soft todger, gently letting it lay in the curled fingers; it stiffened.

“Thank you for being a friend,” Harry said, “Guess that’s the point of the trip, to enjoy our company.”

“You like my todger,” Ron said, as Harry’s hand stroked the shaft.

“It’s a friend too,” Harry said, “Should be no shame there, that we’re friends. It may not be at the top of my bucket list, but I should be able to handle it without a problem.”

“Keep that up and you’ll…” Ron paused as his hard cock began to spasm, let out the hot white liquid, it poured over Harry’s fingers. “Faster than Hermione.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, holding his fingers up so they both could inspect the sticky trail across them, “Better than Galleons.”

“You’re kidding,” Ron stated.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “Still, I don’t mind, because you’re happier.” Harry wiped his fingers against Ron’s stomach.

“Now I suppose you want me to toss you off?” Ron asked.

“Nah,” Harry said, “We’re not in England yet, are we?”

“Don’t think so,” Ron said.

“Good,” Harry said, moving back up.

He pushed upward on the rail, facing backward, threaded his feet on the lower bars while his ass hung freely over the edge.


Harry cringed a bit, until the first round of sludge started to creep out of his anus.

“No point in being open,” Ron said, sarcastically.

“It’s good for us, for the dangers of the new year,” Harry said.

“You’re expecting trouble,” Ron stated.

“When has Voldemort left us alone?” Harry asked, the foot long brown turd curling from his butt.

“Good point,” Ron said.

“It’s simply good for us,” Harry said as the extra three inches caused his dropping to leave, fall toward the water below.

It was approaching midnight Saturday evening when the four teenagers approached the single detached home of the two dentists. Hermione took the key from underneath the pot, used it to turn the lock; they entered. Linda Granger was sitting in the living room, watching.

“Mum?!” Hermione spat.

“My daughter is coming home from a big trip,” Linda said.

“Fantastic,” Gia exclaimed, eyes wide, and trying to draw the attention away from Hermione, “Dragons! We saw dragons!”

Linda’s eyes steadied on the four naked teenagers, including Hermione, with well tanned skin lacking any lines, no hints at the garments they should have worn. Her daughter held no modesty, freely showing the gifts of beauty that had been bestowed, with no concept of keeping limited viewing hours; instead, Ron was tapping his soft dick against Hermione’s hip.

“You did?” Linda said, “That must be exciting.”

“I’ll call my Dad,” Ron said, headed for the fireplace.

Linda saw Ron held no modesty either; instead, Ron’s legs were partially spread, spending no effort to clench the buttocks together. Hermione’s eyes kept fleeting, toward the tight cluster of red anal hairs, below which, his testicles freely hung; his thighs did twitch and clench as he kept himself balanced.

“Now,” Linda said, sitting on the arm of the sofa, trying to draw Hermione away from Ron, “Tell me all about it.”

“Where’s Dad?” Hermione asked.

“Sleeping—don’t change the subject,” Linda said, “How was it?”

“It was great,” Ron said, crossing back over, “Everything happened!”

Linda could easily guess the meaning, as Hermione’s hand sought reassurance by holding Ron’s genitals.

“No it did not—” Hermione protested.

“Everything?” Linda asked.

“Mother!” Hermione protested.

“I’ll tell,” Ron said, now on the receiving end of Hermione’s tickling, “I’ll tell everything.”

Linda studied the interaction between the two. Ron kept twisting and turning, his hard erection swung about, unconcerned to the exposure, as Hermione kept tickling him. Ron laughed.

“It can wait for the morning,” Linda said, standing, “Sleep tight.”

Linda walked for the kitchen, turned up to use the stairs.

“Nice try,” Gia said, as Harry tried to pull her toward the back, “Big day tomorrow.”

“In the hot tub—” Harry started.

“You promised!” Gia said, pulling him back.

“I lied,” Harry said, tugging back.

Hermione shoved Harry toward gia.

“Conspiracy,” Harry complained.

Ron crashed onto the sofa, watched Gia and Harry make it to the staircase. Hermione grabbed a banana, came back as Harry and Gia vanished along the upper corridor toward their room.

“Grumpy, isn’t he?” Hermione said.

“Had the right idea—” Ron started.


Ron rubbed his cheek, his eyes still up at Hermione standing near his head.

“It’s not like it’s a big deal or—” Hermione said.

“Her father’s not a big deal?” Ron said, sarcastically.

“It’s just—” Hermione started.

“Diciest place for a guy to be,” Ron said.

“Oh Dad—” Hermione softly called out.

“Cut it,” Ron said.

“You’re excited,” Hermione said, her eyes on the hard erection jutting upward.

“Let’s play,” Ron suggested.

“No,” Hermione said.

“Can you at least wait so I can toss?” Ron asked, putting his left hand to his hard cock.

“Let’s see it then,” Hermione said, with a fake enthusiasm in her voice.

Ron leaned his head back, studied her standing right next to it, and moved the hand. He studied the nipples, framing the face as she was watching him. Her nipples, her small breasts, had become so familiar, tanned with no lines; each one, with its curves, attached to her chest. Below the belly button, and his eyes also feasted on the carpet, between the legs. Within the forest, the hard point, the peak, her clitoris, stood out, championing the divided valley below. Blackness cloaked the room in between her labia, the pocket his penis liked to hang out, the place where his dick liked to do what it was about to do.

“You’re beautiful,” Ron said, feeling the spasm started.

Hermione kept watch as Ron’s first salvo launched, it all came back down to his stomach and onto his fluffy golden rod red pubic hair.

“You just like doing that,” Hermione said.

“Wrong, I love it,” Ron said, “Here.”

Ron’s fingers reached up, his left teased the clitoris, while he massaged his right inward.

“Thought you were done,” Hermione said.

“Nah, why shouldn’t you get some fun too?” Ron asked.

Hermione leaned forward, rested her knees against the edge, while Ron worked inward, his fingers massaged the walls inside of her. She sighed, breathed deeply, fixated on Ron’s softening cum laden penis.

“You do learn,” Hermione said.

With Ron’s gentle pull to her hips, she fell forward, onto Ron.

“Night—” Ron started.

“What about my Dad—living room’s rather obvious,” Hermione said.

“Oh,” Ron said, “Your bedroom?”

Hermione rolled off; Ron stood, and they went for the stairs.

1 This is Ukraine in 1996.
2 This story was started before JKR made the relative age of Hermione known, so I made her younger.

Chapter Text

Harry held his head under the water pouring down that Sunday morning; he was standing in the bathtub, underneath the shower head, as he started to become wet. Water seeped into his jet black hair, went over his face, and down the smooth skin.

“Harry! Harry!” came the call, Gia’s voice, from below, a voice that echoed upward, through the crack of the partially open door, “He’s HERE!”

Harry didn’t want to reply, instead, he took the shampoo and worked it into his scalp; he’d rather spend the day cleaning himself than to do what had been asked of him. He worked the excess foam into his armpits, before working a bit more into his pubic hair. His hand worked it into the strands, worked the fibers on his scrotum when he felt the urge. He aimed his penis, began to piss the long shot between the bathtub and the toilet, the jet missed to start covering the linoleum in yellow.

“Good to see you…” Kevin Prescott started as he came into the bathroom.

Harry stood there, for the moment, displaying every detail above the knees, as the curtain hadn’t been drawn. Kevin took another moment to collect the thoughts, the debate was obvious to Harry, whether to be courteous and wait outside, or to latch onto the awkwardness of it. Harry was, obviously, accustomed to streaking, but this was Gia’s father, and right now, his pissing penis was the center of attention, both watching as tapered off. Harry let go of his penis, it flopped back down.

“He seems sober,” Gia said to Harry, trying to break the tension.

Harry studied the thin frame of the man, for a moment, seeing the mouth that was a dentist’s new boat dream as the teeth were well stained and chipped in dire need of repair or replacement. Butterflies grew fast and furious within him, not even Gia’s smooth breasts calmed him.

“I want to see your guardians, today,” Kevin said.

“Not the Dursleys!” Harry protested, “They’d rather not be bothered!”

“You are dating my daughter,” Kevin said, “You can either come along, or worry about what they might say without you there.”

“They’re out for the day—” Harry grumbled.

“Have you called?” Kevin said, “Likely not. Gia.”

“They’ll be pissed,” Harry said as Gia went for the bedroom across the hall.

As Gia dialed, Harry returned to washing himself, despite Kevin being there, lathering and rinsing as quickly as he could.

“Mr. Dursley?” Gia asked into the phone, “My troop is selling cookies, interested? … Two pounds fifty per box. … Understood, side door, ten boxes. … Ta.”

“There is no side door,” Harry said.

“Then they are home,” Kevin said, “Come.”

Harry grabbed a towel, dried himself as he followed Kevin and Gia. Hermione watched as Harry left the house, and got into the dull faded red sedan.

“I thought he was just going to have to talk to her father,” Hermione said to Ron.

“Nope, it’s meeting the Dursleys,” Ron said, “Though I’m worried too, might force a breakup.”

“They wouldn’t—” Hermione said.

“It’d be in their rights and they just might,” Ron said, “Depends on whether their hatred and contempt of Harry outweighs their fear of association with him.”

“If there’s anybody I’d rather curse more, I haven’t found them,” Hermione said.

Meanwhile, Kevin drove the sedan, getting closer to Little Whinging.

“I’m sorry but this isn’t meant as torture,” Kevin said, “I’m curious about the boy getting his hooks into my daughter. Do you deny having sex?”

“No,” Harry said.

“Good, then you understand,” Kevin said.

“Harry’s got strong character,” Gia said.

Gia’s eyes studied Harry’s.

“What?” Harry asked.

Gia, though, leaned into Harry, kissed. Harry slouched back against the door, slid down as she brought her weight onto him, her bare breasts pushed against his chest. Their tongues intertwined. Her left hand, reached down, felt into the loose testicles, letting his stiffening erection push against her wrist as she kept tickling. Still, their lips stayed together as their tongues danced together.

“Like I said, involved,” Kevin remarked

Turn after turn, the anticipation rumbled within Harry, as billowing smoke came closer as they headed for Privet Drive.

“Nervous?” Gia asked.

“Yeah,” Harry replied.

Gia’s left hand kept rubbing his testicles while her right fingers stroked his ear lobe, both trying to ward off the butterflies that haunted Harry’s stomach. Harry admitted it to himself, her knacks were helping, even if they didn’t totally absolve him of his growing dread.

“Here, right?” Kevin asked, as the car came to a stop.

“Yeah,” Harry said as he sat up.

Harry got out of the car, which was parked next to yellow police tape cordoning off Privet Drive, the origin of the heavy smoke. Each one of the row houses was charred, each one had collapsed, and smoldering wrecks of the parked cars contributed to the noxious fumes lingering in the air. Harry’s thighs and buttocks flexed as he went past a police cruiser and ducked under the tape; he coughed as the hot soot invaded his throat.

“Stop!” a lady police officer said, from nearby.

“My family!” Harry said, paused to point toward number four.

“Likely dead—” the officer said

“I’m finding out!” Harry said as he bolted.

Harry counted the houses to find number four. Harry sorted and dug through the rubble. It occurred to Harry that this likely wasn’t the best time to be naked, however, as he was naked, he did his best to avoid splinters. Harry came across the familiar large lump of flesh, badly burned, Uncle Vernon under the rubble of the living room; the large eyes glared up at Harry, for the last time, eyes that saw Harry’s bottle greens peering back, eyes that seemed miffed at the unscathed smooth skin of Harry’s chest and softening penis. Harry blinked.

“You Bastard!” Uncle Vernon yelled, “You had the nerve to show up after you—”

Kevin and Gia approached; Kevin got to moving more of the rubble.

“Don’t think you’d care,” Harry said to Uncle Vernon, “but, I’m dating.”

“Your uncle?” Kevin asked as he uncovered Aunt Petunia.

“You?” Aunt Petunia spat, “Dating?! Who’d date a scoundrel such as you?”

“Yours?” Kevin asked Harry.

“You never came in July, never bothered with a missing person report,” Uncle Vernon said, “Good riddance, or so I thought!”

“You should have shouted!” a medic scolded, arriving with a stretcher. A second was shortly behind.

Kevin grunted as he helped the medic move Uncle Vernon onto a stretcher.

“Runt likely did this—” Uncle Vernon said, “You’ll wish you never were born!”

“On the verge of death and you’re berating your nephew?!” Kevin said, “Look at—!”

“I have to ask you to leave,” said another male police officer, who had just came over, said to Kevin, Harry, and Gia.

“He’s family—” Kevin protested.

“You’re upsetting them,” the officer said, “Leave or I will have to arrest you—”

“We’re leaving,” Kevin said.

Kevin led the way back to the car, Harry and Gia in a fast trot behind. Harry and Gia crowded into the front passenger seat. Kevin drove fast, tailgating the ambulances, toward the hospital.

“I don’t want—” Harry said.

“And you’d regret it later,” Kevin said.

“You heard them—that was…typical,” Harry said.

“For the record,” Kevin said, glancing at the naked boy, the armpit hair exposed as the right hand was behind Harry’s head, though his left was around Gia, and Gia’s right hand rested on Harry’s thigh, “You’re looking good.”

Kevin parked in the handicap parking spot; they dashed into the A&E. Inside were gurneys, some draped in white; orderlies were quickly trying to make order out of the chaos, moving the dead out of sight.

“Dursleys,” Kevin said to the nurse, “Mr. and Mrs—Just came in.”

“I’m sorry,” the nurse said, pointing toward two white draped gurneys in the queue.

Gia followed Harry over, stood next to him as he lifted the sheet of one. Uncle Vernon’s eyes were still open, unflinching, idle, with no breath through his sooted lips. Gia had expected a tear, but saw none as Harry lifted the other sheet; Aunt Petunia, with a nasty bump to her head, also laid idle, unmoving. Harry’s buttocks remained tense, as if he expected another insult from them.

“You are not authorized—” an orderly said to Harry.

“It’s over,” Harry coldly stated, turning toward the door.

“Relation—?” the orderly asked.

“Doesn’t matter anymore,” Harry said, walking fast out the door with Kevin and Gia behind him.

“Sir—” the orderly asked, following fast.

Harry spun fast, stared through his glasses, bearing at the orderly, a bearing that distracted the orderly from Harry’s bare chest and naked body. “It matters no more—I’m nobody to them. Thank you very much.”

“Harry?” Gia asked.

Harry spun again, walked past the officer ticketing Kevin’s illegally parked car. Kevin ran up, gripped Harry’s shoulder.

“Very cold and callous—” Kevin said.

“The matter is over,” Harry stated, “Good riddance—

“Services—” Kevin said.

“I’m likely banned,” Harry said, “I’ll live with it, better off I imagine.”

Kevin opened his mouth.

“Don’t press it,” Gia said, “They were being unusually kind today, as I understand it.”

Kevin turned, ran for his car, which was being threatened by a tow truck. They watched the car leave the parking lot without them, the tow truck having made off with its bounty, though a business card fluttered in the air.

“Bloody hell!” Kevin exclaimed, grabbing the card from the pavement, “He fucking enjoyed that!”

“We go get the car,” Harry said, “Or, Gia and I take the train—”

“I’m escorting you, remember?” Kevin said.

They walked to the bus stop, on the edge of the carpark, past the gate where another car was paying for the parking. Harry sat on the bench, his warm and loose testicles hung over the edge.

“Harry was sent to live with them after his parents died,” Gia said, “Surprised they treated you like that.”

“My mother and Aunt were estranged,” Harry said, “So, I was an imposition, a reminder to the sister they’d rather forget; but they were the only family I had.”

“That doesn’t justify their behavior to you,” Kevin said.

“Life’s rarely fair, I know that,” Harry said, “Gia, though, makes it a bit fairer.”

Harry’s eyes drifted upward, surveyed her standing there, the curves, the nipples, and the stubble around her vagina. She grinned at the sight of his growing flesh, the erection. He stood, held her against the corner of the bus stand as he leaned in, and kissed her.

“My Dad—” Gia started.

“Wasn’t going to have him join in,” Harry said, “Keeping you for myself.”

“Ahem,” Kevin said.

“How long to the bus?” Harry asked.

“Minutes,” Gia said.

“It’s time enough,” Harry said.

Harry cast his condom, before turning around. Gia took a couple of steps forward, and partially bent over.

“She’s my daughter!” Kevin said, “And you two are just—”

“Been like this all summer,” Gia said as Harry pushed his hard erection between her legs and into her vulva, “We stopped caring about it, and nobody’s been hassling us.”

Harry drilled as the bus came to a stop.

“Open sex?” Kevin asked.

Harry paused as he felt the spasm, pulled out his dripping cock.

“Thank you for your daughter,” Harry said as he boarded the bus.

Though the bus only had one other passenger, Harry stood in the aisle, in front of Gia as Kevin took the window seat, let the white dew cling and seep out of his still hard dick.

“No questioning the relationship,” Kevin said, “What about protection, or do you have a plan for when my daughter gets pregnant?”

“We’ve already considered the birth control, so unlikely,” Harry said, “But, I do have an inheritance, one that my Aunt and Uncle never touched, enough to get by, for a while.”

“So, you’re rich?” Kevin asked.

“Money isn’t being rich,” Harry said.

“You take care of her, look after her,” Kevin said, “Promise me that.”

“Yes,” Harry said.

A few hours and hefty penalty later, they returned to Noigate. Harry entered the Granger’s house first.

“—leveled today. Eyewitnesses report seeing three strange teenage boys moments before the incident. One is loosely described a strange pale face and blond hair; however all three were wearing black robes which will make identification of these culprits nearly impossible. At least twenty people have been reported killed. …“

“Take it that things didn’t go as planned,” Hermione said, turning her attention from the radio to Harry.

“It’s over,” Harry said, “No more worrying—”

“Don’t joke—” Hermione said.

“He’s not,” Gia said, “Rubble was still warm when we got there.”

“Privet Drive is no longer,” Harry said.

“Blond hair,” Ron said, “Any guesses? One or less?”

Harry went for the back.

“It’s been more than enough for the day,” Gia said, following.

Ron and Hermione came out the back, sank into the hot tub with Harry and Gia.

“Have you banged today?” Harry asked Ron and Hermione.

“Pardon?” Ron said.

“You’re keeping score?” Hermione asked.

“No,” Harry said, “Like a daily vitamin.”

“Sex as a vitamin?” Gia asked.

“Keeps the relationship healthy,” Harry said, “Here.” He grabbed the tube of lube, handed it over to Ron.

“What’s this?” Ron asked.

“Makes it go more smoothly,” Harry said, “Especially in here.”

“Think that’s my parents!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Good, then it’s dentist approved,” Harry said.

“You’re not exactly being subtle,” Hermione said.

“Realized it had been a couple of days, I like seeing it,” Harry said.

“Pervert,” Ron said.

“Yep,” Harry said.

“Please?” Gia mouthed to Hermione.

“Need directions?” Hermione asked Ron.

“No,” Ron stated.

“Just grease it up before use,” Harry said.

“I get the idea,” Ron said, feeling a bit of the goop.

Ron stood, the three of them watched as he applied the lubricant to his stiffening penis; a smile came to his face.

“Um…” Ron muttered, trying to think about the best way to proceed.

“Hermione, head to Harry, float upward,” Gia said.

Hermione did this, floated, let her head rest in Harry’s lap, his erection beneath her, while his thighs supported her shoulders, bearing her reduced weight.

“Alright, here we go,” Ron said.

Harry’s and Gia’s remained fixed on Ron’s shiny hard cock as he stepped between Hermione’s legs, the testicles floated on the water.

“Lift with your back,” Gia said.

Hermione’s legs moved upward, her feet caught onto Ron’s shoulders, and his hands lifted her hips. All saw the brief hint of red pulsate across the shaft before it hooked into her, penetrated inward. His shaft slipped inward and outward as he drilled; pulling out. His hard cock swayed back and forth as it begun to erupt. Ron’s first shot leapt out fast, flew past Hermione’s face, to hit Harry’s chin; the rest left a splattered mess strewn across Hermione’s stomach and chest.

“Sorry,” Ron said.

“Don’t be,” Harry said, “I mean, never mind.”

Ron sat on the edge to the other side of the hot tub; Hermione spun around, sat between Ron’s legs, letting his hard penis push against her neck.

“See what you wanted?” Ron asked.

“After today, you are my family,” Harry said, “It’s nice seeing you bang, that’s all.”

“So your Aunt?” Ron asked.

“Dead,” Gia said, “Her and the Uncle.”

“Your cousin?” Ron asked.

“I didn’t think to ask,” Harry said, “Didn’t exactly have a long chance to chat.”

“You were worried about stuff happening this year,” Ron said, “Guess they got a head start.”

“It was daring though, in broad daylight,” Harry said, “Fortunately, I don’t consider the Dursleys a big loss. … Well, maybe Uncle Vernon is.” He snickered.

Hermione said sternly, “That’s not funny.”

Ron woke next next morning, Monday, to being shaken by Hermione, towering over him on the sofa. Despite the breasts in his view, he was focused on her face watching back.

“Diagon Alley!” Hermione said, “Come on! Get your list—”

“Later,” Ron said, figuring it a task best left to the last minute.

“Things to study—” Hermione said.

“Borrow Harry’s book for Hagrid’s,” Ron said, hoping to at least push her to go the next day.

“And smolder my essays before I can do them next to the fire extinguisher?” Hermione said, “You need to study too, so get your list—stop right there!” Her gaze, her attention, shifted rapidly, turned to Harry and Gia heading for the door. “We’re going, NOW!”

“Alright, alright,” Ron grumbled as he got up. Buttocks flexed, his bare toes gripped into the white carpet, as he crossed the living room. He walked into the fireplace, dropped in Floo Powder, and shouted, “The Burrow!”

Green flame shot upward as Ron spun, tendrils flicked upward between his hanging todger and his thighs, over his buttocks, up his crack, and across his bare skin, for a moment before being hurdled out of the fireplace. Ron tumbled, adorned with soot, and fell to the floor next to Hermione.

“Bloody hell!” Ron exclaimed, getting back up.

Beep, BEep, BEEP!

Three ascending tones came from the fireplace, accompanied by a voice, “We’re sorry, but the fireplace you’re trying to reach is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please contact customer service, or try your Floo again.”

“Use the good stuff,” Hermione said, pointing to another bucket of Floo Powder.

Ron entered the fireplace, again, dropping the Floo Powder, yelled, “The Burrow!”

Again, Ron was thrown out, this time, falling onto his bare butt.

Beep, BEep, BEEP!

Three ascending tones came from the fireplace, accompanied by a voice, “We’re sorry, but the fireplace you’re trying to reach is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please contact customer service, or try your Floo again.”

“It’s only getting worse,” Hermione said.

Ron stood. “I’m trying! If you’re not satisfied, try it yourself!”

Hermione grabbed Floo Powder, entered the fireplace, and yelled as dropped the powder, “The Burrow!”

As happened to Ron, Hermione spun. Green flame traced her skin, flowed around the breasts, as she turned. She, too, found herself being thrown out; Ron caught her.

Beep, BEep, BEEP!

Three ascending tones came from the fireplace, accompanied by a voice, “We’re sorry, but the fireplace you’re trying to reach is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please contact customer service, or try your Floo again.”

Harry grabbed a handful, stepped, and yelled as dropped the powder, “The Burrow!”

Harry, too, spun in the green flame, tendrils covered every square inch of his bare skin, and was thrown out. Harry, though, was airborne, collided with Ron and Hermione, knocking them both over; his glasses flung halfway across the living room.

Beep, BEep, BEEP!

Three ascending tones came from the fireplace, accompanied by a voice, “We’re sorry, but the fireplace you’re trying to reach is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please contact customer service, or try your Floo again.”

Ron got up, went to the fireplace.

“Try this,” Ron said, as he grabbed a new handful, dropped it as he yelled, “The Kirbys!”

Ron spun up in the green flame, and again, he was thrown back out. He stumbled, but caught himself, he was now covered in ashen black; this included every bit of his bare skin, from his toe nails, to his chest, and his pubic hair.

Three ascending tones came from the fireplace, accompanied by a voice, “We’re sorry, but the fireplace you’re trying to reach is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please contact customer service, or try your Floo again.”

“There is the train,” Gia said.

“Just as reliable,” Linda said, lifting her eyes from a magazine, “Just like BT1.”

“Got an idea,” Ron said.

Harry leaned back, put his bare buttocks against the back of the sofa.

“Think my list is there too,” Harry said, “Hermione, can we just use yours?”

“You’re not taking Arithmacy, or Muggle Studies,” Hermione said.

“He’s studying a muggle,” Ron said as he threw in a fistful of Floo Powder.

“Some people just never learn,” Hermione said.

“Calling the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office!” Ron shouted.

A face appeared in the fireplace, that of Perkins, Arthur Weasley’s coworker.

“Which Weasley is this?” Perkins asked.

“Ron,” Ron replied.

“Just a moment,” Perkins said.

Perkins disappeared, replaced by Arthur Weasley a minute later.

“Yes?” Arthur asked.

“Dad,” Ron said, “I tried getting the Burrow—what’s up? It and the Kirbys are disconnected.”

Arthur turned his face. “Perkins—? … Thank you.” He turned back to Ron. “Grangers?” Ron nodded. “I’ll get back to you.” Arthur disappeared.

Ron sighed. “Never had a problem before, though it gets me out of—”

“No it does not,” Hermione said, “I do have my list and we do share some—”

“Ron?” Arthur’s face reappeared in the fireplace. “Ours was abnormally disconnected at the source, Kirbys have some residual interference of some sort. I’m departing immediately.” His face vanished.

“In the meanwhile, we’re leaving—” Hermione started.

Arthur’s face reappeared. “I cannot Apparate to the Burrow either.”

“I’ll drive you,” Linda said, car keys now twirling on her fingers, “And you can tell me all about your trip.”

Arthur smirked. “I’ll meet you out there.” He vanished.

“Mom!” Hermione protested.

“Do you need the ride or not?” Linda asked, her eyes focused on her naked teenage daughter, one that seemingly had no intention of getting dressed.

“It’s this or the train,” Harry said, “We need to know what’s happening.”

“Yeah, let’s go,” Ron said.

“In five minutes, we need showers,” Hermione said, her eyes on their mutually soot covered bodies.

Ten minutes later, they crowded into the bright yellow sedan; Hermione sat in the front, while Harry squeezed between Ron and Gia for the middle of the back seat.

“Devon, was it?” Linda asked.

“Yes,” Ron said.

Linda shifted the drive selector, began to move the car.

“I don’t see why you insisted on not getting dressed,” Linda said.

“Hermione takes an hour just to narrow down her selection,” Ron said.

“Hey!” Hermione snapped.

“Habit,” Gia said.

“I know you two were planning something before you left,” Linda said.

“It stuck,” Hermione said.

“It’s more…comfortable,” Harry said, “Even the worst of the stares, and it’s still better.”

“Lovesick naked boys and girls,” Linda asked, “Have you considered protection?”

“Except that question,” Harry said.

“If you mean birth control, condoms, that sort, Mrs. G,” Gia said, “We figured that out.”

“Good, at least you’re not compounding one bad decision with another,” Linda said as she merged onto the motorway.

“It wasn’t a bad decision!” Hermione said, “We set out to have a good time, and we had a good time—wisely. As a bonus, I know my friends very well, I think I can even pick their dicks out of a lineup.”

“Thank you,” Ron said to Hermione.

“I never said those other pictures would be of dicks,” Hermione said.

Gia laughed.

“Hey!” Ron said.

Linda drove, using the M3 for most of the distance. Harry, Ron, Gia, and Hermione continued to swelter and sweat, not from the heat, but from Linda’s questions. Hermione figured out to deflect most of the awkward questions by delving into the museums that they had visited. Hermione used a map, pointed as they needed to turn, first to Catchpole, before Ron guided to St. Ottery, to the underused driveway.

“That’s the..” Hermione muttered, jaw dropping, as they rounded the shrubbery.

Ron quickly opened the car door before Linda had brought it to a stop, he stumbled as he gained his footing, and ran toward the big pile of rubble where the Burrow formerly stood; around the pile were other red haired individuals.

“WHAT HAPPENED?!” Ron demanded.

Harry stopped beside Ron. “Explains the Floo thing.”

“Not funny,” Ron snapped.

Bill Weasley, with his flowing shoulder length red hair, glanced up from the other side of the pile, came over to Harry and Ron. Bill ignored Harry and Ron’s nudity. Hermione and Gia joined up with them.

“Fortunately everyone is accounted for,” Bill said, “I think the House Elves are holding themselves up in the tree house.”

“Decades of memories.” Arthur Weasley walked up. “According to the neighbors, a pale faced teenager boy with blond hair was asking around at the cafe about us, where Ottery Street was, that sort. His two male friends, both heavy build, took off in this direction. John, next door, said they walked past his place shortly before he saw the dust cloud. Took me an hour to walk from where I could Apparate to, definitely magic.”

Charlie, who just arrived, started moving the rubble. They all pitched in.

“And they will pay,” Ron promised.

“Remain the better man,” Arthur said, “An investigation will ensue, after which, we can rebuild, if we desire to. In the meanwhile, I believe all can find suitable accommodation—”

“Can’t believe it!” said the voice of Percy coming from a distance on a path obscured by the leafy vines and bushes, “Not only did they forget my birthday four days ago, but having to walk home. Juliet, I mean, I go to see Dad, told he’s gone on an emergency. Can’t Apparate or use the Floo Network. So what do I do? Have to Apparate to the Kirbys and walk from there—”

“Perce,” said the voice of Juliet, Percy’s current girlfriend, “It could be important.”

“Yeah right,” Percy said, “Likely Fred and George again, it wouldn’t be the first time.”

Percy rounded the corner, in full and fancy dress robes, and froze in his footsteps. His eyes moved and he looked at the rubble pile for a minute before Bill looked up.

“Jams everything for miles,” Bill said

“About time,” Percy spat, a look of indignation on his face.

Harry joined in the collective glare at Percy. Percy returned the glare, with seething contempt, and left with Juliet. Harry reached down, picked up a broken timber, tossed it aside. Gia, Ron, and Hermione joined in the effort. Despite their genitals jiggling, the other Weasleys appreciated their efforts.

“I couldn’t help but notice your attire,” Mr. Arthur Weasley said to Harry and Ron.

“Like we used to do,” Ron said, “When—you know, this was standing.”

“That was in the heat of the summer before you hit puberty,” Arthur said.

“It became our summer uniform,” Harry said, “You need the help here, I presume we’re not using magic to clear it out.”

“It is still unstable,” Arthur said, “And we have things buried beneath we’re going to try to scavenge, best to be careful.”

They returned to the work; Harry watching his step around the rubble.

“Found it!” Charlie exclaimed, lifting up their beloved VitalFamily™ kitchen clock. Arthur came to tears, the hands shattered, including Molly’s one that had been burnt.

Harry and Ron found their trunks; Hedwig flew down to meet them. Hermione and Gia helped to pull all they could from where Ron’s room had collapsed onto. Arthur Weasley came over.

“I thank you for the assistance,” Mr. Weasley said to them, “While I plan to see you on platform 9¾, if I don’t, have a fun year at Hogwarts.”

“What about you?” Harry asked.

“Don’t worry about me,” Arthur said, “What counts is that everyone came out safe. While we’ll camp out until this is cleared, Fred and George do have their new shop, so that is a possibility. As to you lot, well, Mrs. Granger?”

“Yes,” Linda said.

“That settles it,” Arthur said, “I’ll see you Sunday.”

Harry and Ron loaded their trunks into the boot of Mrs. Granger’s car. Ron followed Hermione into the back seat, his hands began to feel her up, and his dick was hard.

“Up front,” Linda Granger said to Hermione.

Hermione scrambled between the seats, moved up front. Linda got in, drove away, away from there the Burrow had once stood.

“Sorry that happened,” Hermione said.

“You didn’t have anything to do with it?” Ron asked.

“No!” Hermione retorted.

“Made us sweaty,” Harry said, unbuckling his seat belt.

“So?” Ron asked.

Harry, though, moved, squatted in front of Gia, his back against the driver’s seat, both feet to either side of Gia; he leaned stiffed at Gia’s neck, licked it.

“Are you buckled up?” Linda asked.

“In a moment,” Gia said, “Harry just had to help me with something.”

Gia unbuckled her belt, pulled it over Harry’s back, and buckled it back in, capturing them both, together. His knees to his chest as he leaned into Gia, his tongue entered hers, and his dick rapidly stiffened.

“Yep,” Ron stated.

“Oh,” Hermione said, shaking her head, as she glanced at her friends, making out behind her mother’s back.

“What?” Linda asked.

“Guess staying with you is out of the question,” Hermione said to Ron, trying to deflect the conversation.

“Yeah,” Ron said, “Even with a good repair charm, Dad’d want to be certain, and that’s if it can be rebuilt, depends on what took it down.”

Both Harry and Gia were breathing heavily as their hands moving.

“Are they—?” Linda asked.

“It’s them being them,” Ron said, dismissively, “Have you gotten this car to fly?”

“Fly?!” Linda said, “Don’t change the subject, they’re having sex, aren’t they?”

“No,” Ron said, glancing at Harry and Gia, “His dick’s not in, not yet.”

“Now he is,” Hermione said, seeing Harry push into Gia.

“Keep driving,” Ron said, “Ignore it.”

“Need them to drive?” Hermione said, “There’s that year they drove a flying car to Hogwarts.”

“Mrs. Granger,” Ron said in a calm manner while leaning a bit forward, “Yes, we have been naked and sexual.” He paused as Harry kept drilling into and out of Gia. “We demand and give respect. You have a wonderful daughter, she doesn’t let me disrespect her.”

“So you two have been doing it,” Linda said.

“Regularly,” Hermione said, “We do it with trust, understanding, and candor; we do learn, and we are being responsible. Which means that even though my good friend is shagging his girlfriend, they are otherwise behaving themselves, and they do have the car hiding their act from the road. And when I happen to see them do the act, I hope they’re both satisfied with it.”

“I cannot endorse teenagers having sex!” Linda said.

“Would you rather we hide it, pretend it doesn’t happen?” Hermione said, “I’m not explaining it, but this is downright healthy for Harry.”

“To be short,” Ron said, “We see it, but we’re not stopping it. They can do it, and best to let it happen, as he’s about to fall asleeep.”

“What?” Harry asked, pulling out, his cock dripping.

“You do, you like to sleep after you bang,” Ron said.

“No,” Harry said, turning around, slipping out of the belt.

“You do…” Ron stopped, because Harry was already on his back, head against Ron’s thigh, eyelids fluttered closed. Gia massaged into the purse between Harry’s legs.

“Shh!” Hermione said to her mother, hushing her to remain quiet for the rest of the drive back to Noigate.

Traffic turned the M25 into a parking lot for over an hour as Linda Granger drove them back to Noigate. Harry woke up as they left the M25, he kept his head on Ron’s lap, while his butt was wedged against Gia’s thigh.

“I’m hungry,” Ron said.

“I’d like to see my Dad,” Gia said.

“We’ll take care of the food,” Linda said, “The other—it’s late enough as it is, how about tomorrow?”

Linda pulled alongside a fish and chips shop; they got out.

“It is a new you,” Linda said, “I remember you being worried about the knickers—”

“Mum!” Hermione said, “Ron’s shallow, he needs to constantly see my kitten.”

“Wouldn’t say constantly,” Ron said, “Still, it’s magnificent, a masterpiece. We went to museum after museum, but such a waste of time when here, here was the true wonder of the universe, a beauty.”

“In other words, he wants sex,” Hermione said.

“You know, it’s close enough,” Gia said, “We can walk to my Dad’s from here.”

“You’re not hungry?” Linda asked.

“They’ll eat first,” Ron said.

Linda paid for the orders, they sat.

“It ages you ten years in an instant when you learn that your teenage daughter is sexually active,” Linda said, “What are the precautions you’re taking?”

“It’s some spell,” Gia said.

“A charm, a condom,” Hermione said, “Sheaths their todgers in magic, perfect protection, perfect sensation.”

“Can’t by chance package this?” Linda said, “Think there’s a plenty of couples that would find that useful.”

“I do want to see Dad, tonight,” Gia said.

“We can swing by—” Hermione started.

“Think the day’s already been a bit crowded,” Linda said.

“You’ve been kind enough,” Harry said, “It’s not too far from here, right Gia?”

“Yes,” Gia said.

“We’ll walk it, be back at your place by midnight,” Harry said.

“Certain?” Linda asked.

“Walking does him good,” Gia said, “Gotta keep him trim.”

“Of course,” Linda said.

Harry and Gia got up, left.

“If they hadn’t of had sex in the car—” Linda started.

“Mom, we’re old enough, it’s happening,” Hermione said, “We’re not going to stop even if you’re pretending it’s not occurring!”

“Listen, Mrs. G, I do know Hermione well enough to not even dare to skip the condom,” Ron said, “It works!” Ron stood, let his stiffening penis become the center of Linda’s attention. “Now.” A red flash, a glow swarmed around his hard erection. “Now it’s ready!”

“It works,” Hermione said, standing up.

Linda looked as if she had a heart attack, watching as Ron pushed his hard cock into Hermione’s vagina. Ron drilled, pulled out a cock that was swirling with white semen around it.

“Nothing gets out until—” Ron concentrated, the glow vanished “—until I want it too.” White semen dripped from him, onto the table.

“I did not need a demonstration,” Linda said, “A demonstration of public sex!”

“Not our first time,” Ron said.

“When was that?” Linda stammered.

“Koktebel,” Ron said, “I think.”

“You think?” Linda asked.

“It was beautiful,” Hermione said, “They had this festival, naked music festival—”

Meanwhile, Harry and Gia headed toward James Lane.

“Hold up,” Gia said, squatting on the sidewalk.

Harry recognized it, knew what she was about to do. He stood in front of her, and her eyes focused on him retracting his foreskin, as he waited for her. She leaned forward as she began to urinate, his stream formed and he peed; Harry’s stream went down, inches in front of her, to join her puddle. Harry held his stiffening penis, kept it aimed downward, until he stopped peeing and she stood.

“Come,” Harry said.

Harry let his jutting hard erection sway as they continued, he held her hand. They walked along, about a mile from the shop to James Lane. Right before the S–bend, a police cruiser was parked, blocking the way, with its flashing blue lights pulsating across the homes and trees, pushing away the darkness of the night.

“Sir! Ma’am!” a nearby police officer said.

Gia, though, ignored him, and rounded the second bend; more flashing lights as a horde of police cars, firetrucks, and a medical transport were nearby, but a short distance away from the trailer in the driveway. A number of police officers had their weapons drawn, using their cars as shields, aimed toward the trailer.

“Sir!” the first officer chased Harry and Gia, “STOP!”

“But—” Gia started to protest.

“BACK!” the officer commanded.

Within the swarm of first responders stood one with the biggest hat, with Chief embroidered on it. She turned away from another, when her eyes caught glimpse of Gia. Noigate Police Chief Kristen Osborn walked fast and determined, breaking into a jog.

“Gia Prescott?” Kristen asked.

“That’s me,” Gia said. Whether or not Kristen had noticed Gia being naked, she did not show any concern.

“We have a situation and I think you can assist,” Kristen said, knowing that she was about to break protocol, because Gia had the best chance to resolve the situation peacefully.

“Sure,” Gia said.

Harry followed Gia as they were led through the maze of cars, until they had sight of the wooden park style bench outside the trailer. Sitting on it where three stark naked people, while underneath was a big box containing a bunch of sticks of dynamite, loose nails in between, hooked to wires leading up to a trigger button being held down by the man in the middle.

“Dad!” Gia exclaimed, recognizing the man in the middle as Kevin Prescott.

Kevin Prescott held the button to one hand, and a pistol in the other; the pistol aimed at Ane to his left. To his right was the “Jane” that Harry and Gia had previously seen Kevin banging back on July first; she was giggling extensively. Dilated pupils of the three were glancing about, not recognizing anybody, not even Gia, they giggled. Ane pointed to a bird in a tree and laughed. Odors of beer and alcohol permeated the air.

Kristen held Gia in place, kept her from leaping toward him. “Experts believe releasing the button would detonate the device.”

“Not again,” Gia muttered.

“Again?” Kristen asked.

“He’s been high before,” Gia said, “Never this serious—”

“I wish you had talked before, we could’ve intervened,” Kristen said, “Instead we’ve been sitting around for the past six hours, in jeopardy if that thing goes off. Talk to him.”

Kristen handed Gia a microphone from the cruiser closest to the bench, Harry stood next Gia.

“Dad—!” Gia pleaded, taking a step in front of the cruiser.

“Get back—” Kristen.

“Slut!” Kevin yelled.

Harry pointed at Jane, she was doodling using a small knife on Kevin’s bloody thigh.

“Enough—” Gia pleaded.

Quick, Jane then stabbed Kevin in the bollocks as if going for a meatball.

“Exciting—” Kevin said, a grin formed.


The pistol went off, Ane started to slump as bits of her brain left sideways, but did not get a chance to finish the slump. Harry, meanwhile, leapt and spun, pushed Gia down and behind him. Kevin had let go of his push button.


The dynamite exploded, turning the packed nails into missiles. The intense shock wave tore through, forcing the nails through anything thing that was in their way. It ripped Kevin’s feet from him, hurling them toward the crowd. It pulverized his genitals into nothingness. Ane’s corpse was fractured. His legs detached from his torso, his neck snapped apart, detaching his head. Jane, who had released her bowels, had her shit caught up with the wave tearing her apart limb for limb. It propelled them upward. Ane’s feet headed toward the S–bend in the road, her upper torso sailed upward, heading for the neighbor’s house. Jane’s torso headed, more in a punt, toward the firetruck.

Nails and shards of the former bench flew outward fast, toward everything in the vicinity, including the people and cars in front of the property. These began to pierce into Harry, into his back, many at a time.

The corpses made their journey apparent as gravity took over, pulled them back down. Kevin’s torso now heading for the shattered RV that had already been minced up. Ane’s feet slid underneath the police cruiser. Kevin’s head was still in the air when Harry collapsed, falling hard onto the pavement, his glasses shattered.

“Harry!” Gia yelled.

Her eyes were on Harry, not the head of her father that hit the pavement nearby.


She did not witness the pink brains quickly exiting her father’s head as it split open. Instead, she kept her focus on the crumpled naked boy around her.

“Harry!” Gia pleaded.

Kristen plunged downward and saw the wooden shard going through his chest between the ribs; she had hedged her bet, had a plan for this contingency, but didn’t expect it to be an innocent teenage boy. A paramedic was right behind, came fast to a kneal as he felt Harry’s neck.

“Still a pulse,” the paramedic said.

Within thirty seconds, a helicopter, the one that Kristen had staged in the nearby school yard, had arrived and landed, by which time, Harry was already loaded onto a gurney and was wheeled to the helicopter. Gia jumped in alongside them, held on as the helicopter took off. It was a rough five minute flight, one that she had longed for Harry’s grace on a broom, a flight that was forever be her longest even though the hospital was not too far. One flight nurse was gauzing the punctures while the paramedic hand pumped air into him, forcing Harry to breathe.

“Come on Harry,” Gia pleaded.

The helicopter landed, the nurse and an orderly nearby lifted the gurney off the helicopter; the paramedic kept pumping the air, and Gia followed. Gia shoved a cameraman taking footage out of the way, the camera shattered. Gia ran into the hospital, only to be stopped by a different nurse, a tall, imposing lady, in white.

“He’s—” Gia protested.

“In a moment,” the nurse said, holding a clipboard and a pen, “I need—”

“You’ve got his name—Harry Potter,” Gia said, trying to side step the male orderly also blocking her.

“And it’s restricted!” the nurse said, “I—”

“Then come!” Gia said, surprised by her own rage, a determination she had seen in Harry, something that seemed to be carried into herself, “He needs me!” She appeared intimidating as the nurse and the orderly yielded. The orderly took her to a sink, had her sanitize herself before putting on a gown, and escorted her into the operating room.

“Keep quiet,” the orderly said to Gia, “While they save your…”

“He’s very important to me,” Gia whispered.

On the table, in the middle, laid Harry, his abdomen open, the surgeons worked.

“Suction,” called one.

Blood stained the gloves; Gia saw the guts, turned, puked her dinner into a sink, before returning and stepping closer. Gia watched as the surgeons removed a fragment of wood lodged near his heart.

“Where’s that damn blood?” the surgeon demanded.

“We don’t have a type,” another said.

“Are you sure that was O negative?” the surgeon asked.

“All three pints?” the person asked.

“I need more blood, check his medical history for the right type,” the surgeon said.

“No information from the database,” a nurse said.

“None?” the surgeon inquired, “Not even a date of birth?”

“It’s restricted,” the nurse said, “We can’t override.”

“Your NHS at work,” the surgeon said, “He’s young and seems healthy, so pray that we find out his blood type.”

The nurse took Gia aside.

“I need to know his guardians,” the nurse said.

“Killed yesterday,” Gia said.

“Anybody else we should contact?” the nurse asked.

“Yes,” Gia said.

“And your relation?” the nurse asked.

“I’m his—” Gia said.

Meanwhile, Hermione sat on the carpet in the middle of the living room, revising her essays while Ron laid there, he was doodling in her Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6 , quill in hand.

“You’ve got your own school books,” Hermione said.

“Not in mint condition,” Ron said. He dipped his quill into the ink jar, worked on the Chudley Canons logo.

Sitting on the sofa, Linda was watching the telly, when a picture of the flattened trailer swarmed by investigating police working in the flood of portable work lights.

“In breaking news,” said the news anchor, “We have word that a police standoff has ended in tragedy. At least three people are dead and a young man is being rushed to the hospital. Our crew is heading to the scene and we will report when we have further details.”

“Bad day for somebody,” Ron said.

Hermione grabbed the nearby phone, dialed.


“I thought Harry had grabbed the mobile we lent him” Hermione said.

“He’s naked,” Ron said, “Likely didn’t feel like it ringing out of his arse.”

Hermione sighed.

“Something wrong?” Linda asked.

“That looked somehow familiar,” Hermione said, “Feels funny—oh no you don’t!”

Ron’s quill had threatened her revision of her essay.

“Relax,” Ron said, “Harry and Gia will be back shortly, just had to check in with her Pop.”

“I’m worried,” Hermione said.

“We can settle it,” Ron said, “Need my pacifier?” Ron leaned to his side, shook his penis. “Suck it!”

“Oh no you don’t!” Linda snapped.

“We have an update to the apparent murder suicide. Police confirm that a man and two woman were killed when the man, drunk and under the influence of an illicit drug, detonated an explosive device; the damage was catastrophic. An injured teenager was transported to the hospital, but the hospital refuses to answer our inquiries.”


“Hello?” Linda asked, picking up the phone, “Yes, just a moment, Hermione!”

Hermione grabbed the phone.

“Hi,” Hermione said, “Who’s this? … Oh…” Color drained from her face, the smile replaced by a more somber straight lips, “We’ll be there. Thank you.”

Hermione’s toes curled, tensed up.

“And?” Ron asked.

“It was Harry,” Hermione said, “He’s at the Hospital in emergency surgery, they’re not sure…”

Keys were already in Linda’s hand, when Ron went to the fireplace. Ron joined Hermione, outside in the car, several minutes later.

“You took your time,” Hermione said to Ron, as Linda moved the car.

“Did Gia say anything more?” Ron asked.

“It was a short call,” Hermione said.

“Dumbledore will want them,” Ron said.

“Dumbledore?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah, that’s who I called,” Ron said, “This counts as serious.”

A half hour later, Linda brought the car to a halt in the passenger loading and unloading zone in front of the hospital.

“Call when you get news,” Linda said.

Ron and Hermione got out, walked into the hospital. Once again naked, Gia was in the waiting room.

“He’s still in surgery, they’re closing up now,” Gia said, “He gave a couple of good scares, even thought he was dead, twice, but he’s stabilized. It’s like his magic won’t let him die, a good trait. They should be moving him out momentarily.”

They went to the surgical doors, waited a few minutes until the orderlies moved Harry out. They followed into the Intensive Care ward; they neared a room when Kristen Osborn approached.

“Miss Prescott,” Kristen said, “I have a couple of questions.”

Gia moved off with Kristen while Ron and Hermione entered the room. Harry had many tubes attached to him, a ventilator assisting, while a nurse attached electrodes to a heart monitor.

“He’s flirting,” Ron said.

“It’s not funny,” Hermione snapped.

Gia came into the room fifteen minutes later; Kristen with her.

“I’ll let Richard know in the morning,” Kristen said, and left.

“So, just what happened?” Hermione asked.

“Dad must’ve shot himself up,” Gia said, “Another relapse.”

“Drugs?” Hermione said, “I wasn’t aware he used them.”

“It’s not like we advertised it!” Gia said, “Every time, it was different, good thing he died because I’d murder him myself.”

“Gia!” Hermione exclaimed.

“He didn’t fucking recognize me!” Gia said, “High as a kite, and it didn’t click that I was his daughter. I’m sorry, but he died when he injected up, he chose some hooker over me, like I’m…”

“Stop,” Ron said, “Don’t beat yourself up.”

“My Dad committed suicide, the real one perished years ago,” Gia said, “He nearly killed me, and he would have if it weren’t for Harry. Harry saved me, he used his body to take the blast, he protected me, and he’s a force to be reckoned with, even naked. I can trust him with my life.”

1 British Telephone

Chapter Text

It was just after midnight when the door opened. In a slow walk, Professor Dumbledore entered the room, Madam Pomfrey following him. Madam Pomfrey went straight for Harry, her wand was now probing. Dumbledore, who was carrying a bag with cloth straps around his arm, turned to Ron.

“Excellent guard,” Professor Dumbledore said, slowly, “Mr. Weasley, thank you for informing me. Miss Prescott, he should have gone to St. Mungo’s.”

“There was no time,” Gia said, “It—he caught the blast.”

“Your heart is in the right place, of course,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Still in your summer uniforms?”

“Oh, this?” Ron asked, suddenly jarred back to the fact that they were sitting there, naked.

“To be young again,” Professor Dumbledore said, “I heard your trip went well.”

“Saw my brother Charlie there,” Ron said, “Though we saw him … was it this morning?”

“It’s already past midnight,” Hermione said.

“Most unfortunate,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“Got our trunks though,” Ron said, “We’ll be ready for school.”

“You’re optimistic,” Hermione said to Ron, “Haven’t started a single essay.”

“We’ve got days,” Ron retorted.

“Poppy?” Professor Dumbledore asked, changing the topic back to Harry.

“Nothing too serious.” Madam Pomfrey gave Hermione a flask. “Give this to Mr. Potter when he wakes.”

“I will see you on Sunday,” Professor Dumbledore said, while setting the bag down, “In the meanwhile, some tokens for Mr. Potter when he’s fit to handle it.”

Professor Dumbledore walked slowly out of the room; Madam Pomfrey by his side.

“I think Harry needs a blow,” Ron said

“Ron,” Hermione scolded.

“Just looking out for his best interests,” Ron said, “I mean, if you can’t rely on your friends to do that, who can you rely on?”

Around the same time as when the moon was trying to skirt behind the trees of the park, Harry’s eyelids drifted open.

“What the—?” Harry stammered, “Ugliest nudes then this—”

“Nightmare,” Gia said.

Harry sat up, the blanket reached his lap, but his bare chest showed the a myriad of white bandages.

“It’s good to wake up,” Harry said, his eyes surveying her voluptuous breasts. He pulled the blanket and gown off, letting his penis out.

“We’ll play with that, later,” Gia said, seeing his dick stiffen.

“Oh?” Harry muttered.

“It was close,” Gia said, “A rough ride.”

“Gifts from Dumbledore,” Ron said, pointing to the bag.

“Him?” Harry said, “A minor—”

“Major surgery is not minor,” Hermione said, “Drink up! It’s on Madam Pomfrey.”

Harry took the flask, sniffed the contents, and frowned.

“It ain’t pumpkin juice,” Ron said.

“Your Dad?” Harry asked.

“Dead,” Gia said, “Nearly killed you, me, no, he’s completely dead to me. I’m tending to you.”

Harry swigged the flask, downed the potion, sputtering a bit back.

“Definitely not pumpkin juice,” Harry said, “Makes Skele–Gro seem better.”

“Tried talking her into giving head,” Ron said, “Figured some sex would help you recover.”

“Excuse me?” Gia said, “I’ve just seen my Dad ripped to shreds. Harry nearly died, and saw him cut open as they worked to save him. That’s after his Aunt and Uncle were killed and your home destroyed. It’s one large emotional roller coaster, bit too much.”

“Hermione, give Harry head,” Ron said.

“No Ronald,” Hermione said, “I’m not a hooker for hire!”

“Then you do it,” Harry said to Ron, “I mean, it’s a good idea.”

Hermione laughed.

“I guess, if you need me to,” Ron said.

“A little sex cures everything,” Harry said.

Chuckling accompanied the man in a white doctor coat coming in through the door, Dr. Patrick carried a clipboard.

“If only that were true,” Dr. Patrick said.

“It is,” Harry said.

“Please leave, just outside is fine,” Dr. Patrick said to Ron and Hermione.

“They can stay,” Harry said.

“I’m sorry but patient confidentiality rules require this to remain confidential,” Dr. Patrick said, “Only the patient and his wife stay, you may share the results with your friends later.”

“Come on,” Ron said to Hermione. Ron closed the door as they left.

“I’m astounded that he’s awake so soon,” Dr. Patrick said, “How long Mrs. Potter?”

Harry glanced at Gia, a slight expression of confusion on his face.

“Several minutes,” Gia said.

“I’m the one being tortured,” Harry said, “All this for a mild headache, can I leave now?”

“Inadvisable,” Dr. Patrick said, “With as much stress as you’ve had, you shouldn’t even have sex for a week.”

“A week?” Harry stammered.

“You’ll live,” Gia said.

“Years studying for a medical degree, I’ll give you my opinion,” Dr. Patrick said.

Harry yelped like a lonely puppy as Dr. Patrick examined, poked about, before checking beneath the bandages at the surgical scars that were already fading. “Fast metabolism, very fast.” Dr. Patrick’s eyes landed at the forehead, and Harry’s legendary scar. “That one, though—”

“Tattoo,” Gia said, deflecting the inquiry.

Dr. Patrick shook his head as Harry moved to sit on the end of the bed. Harry’s legs drapped over the edge, his legs parted to show his loose testicles resting on the sheets.

“A few days, at least, and avoid solid foods until tomorrow, your stomach took a beating,” Dr. Patrick said, “However, you could stand to gain a bit of weight—you’re definitely underweight Mr. Potter, unhealthy.”

“Days?” Harry said, “I’ve got school to go to.”

“I’m skeptical because your recovery is usually fast for the injuries you sustained,” Dr Patrick said, “I’d feel much better if you waited a few days out in observation.”

Dr. Patrick jotted several notes onto his clipboard and left the room.

“He called you Mrs. Potter,” Harry said.

“They were being annoying,” Gia said, “So, I claimed being your wife. It cut back on the questions and they stopped trying to shoo me out. Figured you’d approve rather than having to explain away your Aunt and Uncle.”

“Just give him a blow,” Ron said, entering, with a slice of pizza in his hands, and his smooth chest above the trail of red from his naval down to his bushy pubic hair, “Oh, Cafeteria’s just down the hall.”

“Food’s all he can think about!” Hermione said.

“I’m hungry,” Ron said.

“He’s still growing,” Harry said.

Ron blushed, as the thought reminded him that he was still naked, having not dressed since the first of July; every bit still on public display, including his bare arse that was implicitly mooning everybody he walked past.

“I can see that,” Hermione said.

“You said something about gifts?” Harry asked, wanting to change the topic.

Hermione grabbed the cloth bag, set it next to Harry. Harry dumped out the contents onto the bed between his legs. Cards and packages fell out. Harry reached for the package of chocolate frogs.


Get well!


“Have one,” Harry said to Ron, before moving to the next letter.


Trying to steal the thunder? Feel free to visit us at 93 Diagon Alley!

Fred & George, or is it George & Fred?

“They’re showing off,” Ron said.

“It’s good to have some fun,” Harry said, “And good business too.”

Harry rattled off the names of the other cards. “Lupin, McGonagall—” Ron blushed “—Flitwick, Sprout, and … Dobby.” Harry held up a pair of socks.

“You’re supposed to be sleeping,” Hermione said.

“I’m not tired,” Harry protested.

“He should be.” Through the door came Richard Osborn. “Mum just told me Gia—”

Gia smiled.

“Hitting on her?” Harry asked.

“Bagged my own man.” Richard threw up his hands. “You certainly blasted onto the news.”

“Not funny,” Hermione said.

“She’s normally a sour puss,” Ron said, “Positively—hey!” Hermione’s elbow recoiled from his ribs.

Richard, in his white T–shirt and blue shorts, surveyed the four teenagers; Harry, Gia, Ron, and Hermione were naked; Hermione was fidgeting with Ron’s penis. Richard blushed, his eyes seeing a white string peeking out with Hermione’s carpeted entrance to her vagina, however, Gia’s legs were open and not attempting to hide her shaven pussy.

While Gia wasn’t trying to advertise, she wasn’t hiding her femininity either, having adopted Harry’s attitude that it better to be worn as common than hidden. Gia noticed the sudden tent pole sprouting beneath the bulge of Richard’s shorts.

“Thanks for showing up,” Gia said, “It’s been … stressful.”

“Mum’s still at the barracks,” Richard said, “You wouldn’t believe the paperwork she has to go through.”

“At least she can go through it,” Gia said.

“Sorry for it all,” Richard said, “Wish I could help.”

“We’ve all got plenty to be stressed over,” Harry said.

“You’re the talk at the nurses’ station,” Richard said, “They expected to be notifying your next of kin last night, instead, you look like you’re ready to leave.”

“Can you break me out?” Harry asked.

“What’s your secret?” Richard asked.

“Sex,” Gia said, “Gotta entice him.” She curled her fingers around Harry’s hard erection.

Richard laughed.

“Speaking of that,” Richard said, “Going hiking any time soon?”

“Aw, that’s what you’re thinking about?” Gia asked.

“It was exciting going starkers,” Richard said, “Very…casual, nice seeing you.”

“We’re not slabs of meat!” Hermione protested.

“Wasn’t saying you were,” Richard said, “Got a girl myself.”

“You and Jen?” Gia asked.

“Yep, both went,” Richard said, “Don’t tell Mum about it all, she…she’s overlooking you because, as I said, the heat, and, well after your Dad…”

“Yeah, not everybody agrees with it,” Harry said, “Still, nice letting it out.”

“Yep,” Ron said, “Certain fringe benefits.”


“Hey!” Ron exclaimed at Hermione.

“So, what are you going to do?” Richard asked Gia, figuring it was good the change the subject, “I mean, your home’s gone.”

“Dunno,” Gia said, “Got nothing now, save Harry.”

“Wrong,” Richard said, “You’ve got more friends than that. Heck, I think Mum’d agree if you needed the guest room.”

“Cheap action?” Hermione asked.

“Hermione!” Ron said, “Be polite, I’m sure he’s getting action, I mean, a handsome bloke like him ought to be able to score a friend.”

Harry, meanwhile, opened the letter addressed in Professor Dumbledore’s familiar loopy handwriting. A pair of Hogwarts pins tumbled out.

“He agreed?” Ron asked.

Harry read the letter.

Dear Mr. Harry Potter,

I hope you have a speedy recovery. You may be interested in resuming a particular arrangement. You may do so under the same terms as before. Enclosed are two items that you need for this. I do not mind Mr. Ron Weasley or Miss Hermione Granger taking part in this liberty should they wish to.

Professor Dumbledore

Ron, Hermione, and Gia also knew what Professor Dumbledore was implying, consenting to letting Harry commute via Portkey, like he had at the end of the prior term.

“Yes, I think we can spare the guest room, if you want to,” Richard said, “Perhaps you can help push Mum and Dad’s away from their antiquated notions—”

“Friendship first,” Harry said.

“Right,” Richard said, “I’m a bit hungry, so I’ll catch something at the Cafeteria and head home to Jen. See ya.”

“Oh, sorry!” Hermione exclaimed.

Eyes fell onto Ron as Hermione’s hand withdrew from the hard erection as it started to erupt. Ron ejaculated.

“Don’t be sorry, do it more often,” Harry said, “Unless you were planning to fuck and this was premature…rotten luck.”

“You mean you wanted to watch,” Hermione said, “You’re a peeping Tom!”

“I know this may come as a surprise, but I like seeing my friends having a good time,” Harry said, “I’m on my death bed and you’re trying to deny me that!”

“You’re not on your death bed,” Hermione said.

“Just because you gave the Muggles a scare, she’s right,” Ron said, “You’re fine. Though, Gia, it’s clear he wanted in on the action.”

“Doctor’s probably right, no real sex today,” Harry said, “Though see nothing wrong with something light.”

“You just want me to suck your dick,” Gia said to Harry.

“Of course,” Harry said, grinning.

“You’re the one putting ideas into his head,” Gia said to Ron. However, Ron wasn’t paying attention, drifting into sleep, snoring.

Harry leaned back, laid down, as Gia climbed onto the bed. She put her crotch over his head, his eyes studied the stubble, the flaps lining the entrance. Gia studied the dick, the bollocks resting on the sheet.

“It’s an addition, one sample and you’re hooked for life!” Hermione said.

“I wish you didn’t say that,” Gia said.

“Sorry, I forgot,” Hermione replied.

Gia’s hands held the hard erection, her thumbs retracted Harry’s foreskin, and she kissed on the slit. Her tongue began to work the head of the dick, teasing and licking, massaging inward. She widened her mouth, lowered her head, letting his hardness dock inside. Her breath, her tongue, Harry calmed and relaxed, letting him ignore the bother of the IV needles still in his arms. Her tongue moved as she had long since learned to do, to stimulate, to titillate Harry. Her fingers teased, worked into his scrotum, feeling and massaging the lumps of his bollocks beneath. Quickly, Gia tasted what Harry felt, the surge unleashed. Gia pulled off, intent on watching.

“Hello cousin—” started a teenage boy, fifteen, who had entered the room; he turned crimson as Harry began to ejaculate. Gia’s cousin Trevor stood there, fixated, his wits too slow for him to retreat, instead, focusing on Gia’s face as Harry’s orgasm commenced.

Another man entered, two steps behind, Gia’s Uncle Marty, who also witnessed as Harry’s salvos started. Gia tumbled to her side, the erection firing, spreading Harry’s semen across her face. Harry’s dick kept spewing as he caught her, both sat up.

“Should I hang up the Do Not Disturb sign?” Uncle Marty asked.

Ron started to laugh, but glanced at Harry’s expression, left the room; Hermione followed.

“No, no,” Gia said, “We’re fine.”

Trevor handed Gia a tissue, and she wiped Harry’s seed from her face, in time for another lady to enter. Gia recognized the distinctive flower hat quicker than the woman herself.

“Aunt Ruth!” Gia exclaimed.

“Your family?” Harry asked.

“Uncle Marty is brother to Dad,” Gia said, “Trevor’s the oldest, while Aunt Ruth was sister to my Mum.”

“Nice to meet you,” Harry said.

“Your boyfriend?” Aunt Ruth asked while glaring at the naked Harry with a softening cock that still had traces of white semen on it.

“It’s obvious!” Uncle Marty said.

“Gia’s nice,” Harry said, “Way better than a teddy bear.”

“So your Dad finally went nutters?” Aunt Ruth asked.

“He only tried to kill me,” Gia said.

“Don’t condemn him when he was obviously out of his mind,” Uncle Marty said, “I thought he kicked that habit years ago.”

“This world’s better off,” Aunt Ruth said.

“He was my Dad!” Gia snapped.

“You know nothing of him,” Aunt Ruth said, “Did he ever tell how you were conceived? Rape.”

“Fuck!” Gia growled.

“Oh, it was hushed up, they forced to marry to cover it up,” Aunt Ruth said.

“Enough of that!” Uncle Marty said, “Gia’s here, it’s today, and she’s a wonderful girl.”

“Oh, I can see how she’s handling things,” Aunt Ruth said.

“Be kind or be LOST!” Harry snapped.

“Who’s he?” Aunt Ruth asked.

“My boyfriend, he protected me,” Gia said.

“So he might be a step better than your father, or worse,” Aunt Ruth said.

“Do I need to get security?” Uncle Marty asked Aunt Ruth.

“No, no,” Aunt Ruth said.

“How long have you been seeing him?” Trevor asked Gia, while pointing to Harry.

They kept talking, mostly with Gia and Trevor catching up. It went on for over an hour.

Meanwhile, Hermione stopped in the waiting room just after she and Ron had left Harry’s hospital room, used the phone.

“Hi Mom,” Hermione said, “Harry’s doing better, good, actually, so he’s talking and having visitors. … No, I doubt the doctors agreed to it, but you know Harry. … Love you.”

Hermione hung up. Ron held Hermione’s shoulders, moved his arms around her sides, held her back against his chest, slowly marched them out of the hospital into the sunshine; his hands held her breasts.

“I already got you off for the day,” Hermione said.

“So?” Ron said, “Worried about Harry?”

“It’s Harry, why should I be worried?” Hermione said, “When Madam Pomfrey’s worried, then I’ll worry.”

They stood on the grass, near the driveway of the hospital, cars came and left, driving by.

“He’s your friend,” Ron said, his hands crept, went down her stomach, felt the carpet of her pubic hair, his fingers massaged around the lace, his thumbs touched her hard point. “You were worried last night, as the muggles thought it lethal injuries, though he seems better.”

“He hasn’t even thought of how to explain it to the hospital,” Hermione said, “It wasn’t guaranteed to be fatal, Muggles have good health care, better understanding than we do, in some ways. You’re really trying.”

Ron’s fingers were teasing, massaging, inside her, feeling her walls, as the thumbs worked on her clitoris.

“Is it helping?” Ron said, “I mean, you don’t feel as tense.”

A black sedan parked in the patient pickup spot, the man had on a suit and tie, got out and went into the hospital.

“I…” Hermione couldn’t disagree, Ron’s fingers were doing the trick, the tension, the worries inside her, were melting as she felt the urge to bear down starting up as the familiar yellow sedan drove into the parking lot, parked.

Linda Granger came over.

“Just a moment,” Ron said, “She’s about to have her orgasm.”

“What…” Hermione stammered, trying to start a line to tell Ron to keep his mouth shut, but instead, the sensation grew, the tremors went through her body.

“There,” Ron said.

“Next time I’m about to—don’t advertise it!” Hermione snapped.

“Sorry,” Ron said, “Thought you had to finish it.”

“You didn’t have to tell my Mum that!” Hermione retorted.

“And Harry?” Linda asked.

“Inside,” Ron said, “This way.”

Ron and Hermione led her into the hospital.

“Well, if you excuse us,” Uncle Marty said, “We need to get book lodging.”

“Yeah,” Gia said.

Uncle Marty and Trevor left.

“I’ll see if this cafeteria rates this place even a one star,” Aunt Ruth said, “Likely not.”

Aunt Ruth left.

“Hello,” said the next voice to come in. In a black suit, with a tie, a white dress shirt, black suit trousers, and shined black shoes, came a large man, whose size would intimidate most; he held a manila folder in his hand.

“Uncle Milton!” Gia exclaimed.

“Hi Gia,” Uncle Milton said, “I just came over to get you.”

“Huh?” Gia asked, “Get me?”

“With your Dad’s suicide,” Uncle Milton said, “I’ve assumed custody.”

Harry’s IVs vanished.

“What?” Gia exclaimed, “Since when?”

“NO!!” Gia shouted.

Harry sprang from the bed, pulled on Gia’s arm, and dashed out the room. He ran naked, with only a couple of white bandages still on his chest. Uncle Milton’s hard shoes echoed the footsteps as he pursued. Two male police officers entered the intersection at the end of the corridor.

“It’s final!” Uncle Milton shouted and pointed, “Detain her officers!”

Both officers turned to see the scene. The rapidly approaching naked Harry, pulling Gia, and Uncle Milton.

“Stop!” the officer on the left commanded.

Harry glared, went around the corner into the next corridor. Both officers grabbed Uncle Milton and brought him to a halt. Gia followed, as they ran past the nurse’s station as Ron started to head inbound from the waiting room.


Harry and Ron collided, tumbled.

“We’re leaving,” Harry said as the pen on the desk signed Harry out, as against medical advice .

“What’s happening?” Hermione asked.

“No time, gotta go,” Harry said, “Mind getting my things?”

Linda Granger glanced at him.

“Hurry,” Gia said.

“It’s alright Mum,” Hermione said, “I know the way home.”

Harry caught a glimpse of Uncle Milton rounding a corner as they left the hospital. Linda started the car.

“I don’t understand,” Linda said.

“Go!” Harry said.

Linda drove the bright yellow car.

“What’s going on?” Linda asked.

“Barely know them,” Gia said, “Yet he thinks he owns me.”

Harry looked out the back, at the black sedan approaching behind them, tailgating, Uncle Milton behind the wheel, glaring.

“Ignore them,” Harry said.

Uncle Milton brought the car closer, flashed his brights, and laid into his car horn. Harry glared, and the black car began to sway, smoke from his tire, and came to fast halt.

“I need answers,” Linda said.

“Uncle Milton came in, claimed he had custody,” Gia said, “I’m SIXTEEN! I can make up my own mind about what I want to do.”

Linda handed Gia the mobile. “You need to sort this out immediately, as in right now,” Linda said, “I will not host juvenile delinquents. You can call my solicitor if you need a starting point.”

Harry and Gia approached 26 Oak an hour later.

“This was fast,” Gia said.

“You matter,” Harry said.

They approached the green door of an orange red brick house, it was detached from its neighbors, unusual for the neighborhood, but not unheard of, with four windows to the front, and a wooden fence around it. Gia knocked. Richard opened the door; he was barefoot while wearing a worn white T–shirt and blue shorts.

“Personally, I’d have put some clothes on if I were you,” Richard said, seeing that Gia and Harry were both naked, “But that’s your affair.”

“Didn’t have time to wait for that,” Gia said.

“Come in,” Richard said.

They entered the modest living room; a staircase on the immediate right, had a lower landing step before it turned to go up. On the left, halfway to the far left wall, the ceiling dropped a foot. In the middle, three couches were arranged into a square, finished by two metal chairs in front of the fireplace. Both chairs were occupied, one by a chubby balding older male, the other by a middle aged woman, both were formally dressed. Harry sat cross–legged, Gia next to him, on the sofa across the coffee table from the chairs. Uncle Marty was already sitting on the sofa to their left, while Uncle Milton on the right, both glaring, both holding back from partaking of the tea on the table. Richard leaned against the wall with the stairs going up along it. Another man, one that neither Gia nor Harry recognized, was standing near the fireplace.

“I’m Andrew Haller; the solicitor in charge of Kevin Prescott’s estate,” the fat man said, “Kevin retained me a number of years ago for this eventuality. First, let’s introduce ourselves as we might not all be familiar with each other. I’ve been a practicing attorney for twenty years with experience in family matters and estates.”

The mid–age lady next to him said, “I’m June Kaylor and I’m from the Family Services Division of Social Welfare. For twenty five years, I have helped families in crisis and in the aftermath of tragedy. I’m the mother of three kids and grandmother to two, three as of yesterday.”

“Uncle Milton, Surrey.”

“Uncle Marty, Liverpool.”

“Richard Osborn, friend.”

“Kurt Osborn, father to Richard.” said the man leaning against the fireplace.

“Hi!” Gia waved.

“Harry Potter, Gia’s boyfriend.”

Harry figured the adults likely cared that he was naked, but it did emphasize that he was Gia’s boyfriend, and figured they’d rather move on with business that to worry about it.

“As I understand it—” Haller looked at his papers on the table “—Marty Prescott is handling the funeral arrangements. Is this correct?”

Uncle Marty nodded.

“I always let the families handle as much or little of that as they wish to,” Andrew said, “Assets will be handled in probate, at which point, I will collect my legal fees. Today, the custody of Miss. Prescott is in dispute, for which, I have brought in Ms. June Kaylor to assist matters.”

“Kevin Prescott failed to specify anything in his will,” June said, “Miss. Prescott has expressed a strong interest in her own well being, this is respectable and it must be considered, despite what her relatives wish. Let us start with you Miss. Prescott.”

“Harry—” Gia watched Harry’s ear grow a tad pink “—I’ve got friends here, school and such—”

“From that bog that Kevin called a home?” Milton spat, “Glad it’s gone—”

“Civility!” Kaylor snapped.

“Richard talked us into it,” Kurt said to Gia, “We can offer you space, and we’ll overlook the boyfriend sharing the bed thing.”

“June and I discussed the options, legally,” Haller said, “Relative—the easiest, adoption—impractical given the speed of the paperwork, orphanage—unlikely given the numbers here who’re willing, and emancipation—possible—” He saw Gia’s face “—it confers adult status on you a bit early.”

“Gia needs to be raised in a proper environment,” Uncle Milton stated.

“Same old bull, it gets tiring!” Uncle Marty said, “Repeatedly trying this dozens of times already—let her decide!”

“You’re full of it Prat!” Uncle Milton said, “Besides, it’s not a dozen—”

“Quiet!” Harry shouted, standing fast to his feet, “This is about her, not your egos!”

Harry walked, with determination, tugged on Mr. Haller’s suit; Haller followed, past a staircase leading down, into a dining room, and turned right into a small study where Harry pulled the doors closed. Mr. Haller studied this naked teenage boy, a collar bone below average height, a confident boy unconcerned to the explicitness of the exposure.

“They’re being nutters!” Harry said, “We need a resolution. Tell me about this emancipation thing.”

Meanwhile, in the living room, the bickering continued; while June slipped to the study.

“Kevin couldn’t care less about his daughter!” Uncle Milton said, “Sure, it may have been your family home growing up, doesn’t mean he took care of it and it fell apart!”

“Kevin was a good man who made some mistakes,” Uncle Marty said, “That doesn’t negate his wishes, and I’m sure those wishes don’t include YOU!”

Richard sat on the sofa next to Gia.

“This sucks,” Richard said.

“A lifetime of abuse isn’t a mistake, it’s a choice!” Uncle Milton said, “What psychedelic was he on? Does it matter? He tried to murder his daughter, a daughter that’s result of him raping Ruth’s sister. Ruth’s sister didn’t want that man having custody of Gia eleven years ago, and it’s true today! That man wasn’t fit, but we can provide a good home.”

“Have you bothered to ask Gia first? Or did you just march in and treat her like an infant?” Uncle Marty asked.

“The law treats her the same,” Uncle Milton said, “We’re her best family—”

“QUIET!” Harry announced, returning with Mr. Haller and June following, “We have a proposal, Gia.”

Uncle Marty and Uncle Milton looked at Harry; Gia glared. June sat down in her chair, while Harry returned to Gia.

“You didn’t ask me,” Gia said to Harry.

“I think you’ll like this,” Harry said.

“Your boyfriend spoke eloquently on your behalf,” June said to Gia, “If you accept, we’ll petition for emancipation on one condition, you continue attending school to finish your studies. In the meanwhile, I’m assigning temporary custody to Kurt and Kristen Osborn so you can remain here, in Noigate, with your friends and classmates. Is this acceptable?”

Gia studied Harry’s grin for a moment.

“Yes,” Gia said.

“And my advice is to not let go of that boyfriend,” June said, winking.

“Good,” Richard said, while picking at his toenail, “Ant needs a big sister around, show you around?”

“Need to get my stuff,” Gia said.

“I’ll still be here,” Richard said.

“That was an interesting solution,” Uncle Marty said to Gia, “Moving is tough, so I understand. Um, if you want to come to Liverpool, we’d be happy for a visit, or a stay.”

“Maybe next summer,” Gia said.

“I’m only trying to consider your best interests,” Uncle Milton said.

“Try harder,” Gia said.

Uncles Marty and Milton left, separately.

“We’ll get the paperwork submitted first thing in the morning,” Haller said before he left along with June.

“Best be going, break the news to Hermione that their spare room is once again, available,” Harry said.

Gia stood up, Harry followed, and they left the house.

“Thank you,” Gia said, his swaying penis caught her eye.

“You needed the help,” Harry said, “Two days ago, your father took us to Surrey! He’s dead, I figured you’re a bit stressed out. Besides, there’s more.”

Gia studied his face for a moment, before they stopped, and he turned to face her, a grin on his face, the bottle green eyes looking up to hers.

“Same thing applies to me,” Harry said.

“What do you mean, emancipation?” Sirius demanded of Harry. They were in the spare bedroom at Hermione’s, the one that Harry and Gia had been using.

“I can’t fucking list you as a guardian, now, can I?” Harry said, his eyes looking up to the sullen eyes of his godfather, “Nobody will approve that.”

“You’re shorter than James,” Sirius said as he paced, “You’re outdoing him. Moony wrote about some near–death experience so I canceled the errand I was running for Professor Dumbledore.”

“Sorry,” Harry said, “It wasn’t such a big thing, a bit over–hyped.”

Harry paced as he explained the bomb, hands wide, hands close, hands on his bare buttocks, hands on his back, uncaring to the skin that showed, from his armpits to his testicles.

“That’s not a small thing,” Sirius said.

“It made Gia an orphan,” Harry said, “Big fight between her relatives, none of which was good for her, so, the option came up, and I realized it was good for me too.”

“What have your Aunt and Uncle said about this?” Sirius started to ask.

“They’re dead,” Harry said, sitting. He explained Privet Drive.

“Oh,” Sirius said, “I know the Dursleys bore a callous attitude toward the Potters, however, your parents would be sad to hear of their passing. Lily’s regret was that magic drove a wedge between her and her sister, something she wanted to make amends with, but wasn’t given the time those things typically require.”

“All emancipation does is make legal what I have been doing,” Harry said, “Making decisions for myself, just means I don’t have to ask some stranger for consent. You are still my godfather, regardless of what the law says, you’re still family.”

“Thank you Harry James Potter,” Sirius said, “Write Professor Dumbledore immediately—”

Harry glared. Sirius studied the bottle green looking at him.

“Downside is you can’t blame the Dursleys anymore,” Sirius said.

Harry snorted. “Only downside there is—”

“This stuff gets published, so what of Gia?” Sirius asked.

“Her safety is important, very important,” Harry said, “Which is why you’ll be following her, all the time.”

“What? Did you think to ask me first?” Sirius asked.

“I need it, she needs it,” Harry said, “I’m not always around, I need to study at Hogwarts because people think I’ll have to fight Voldemort. I don’t want to be facing him while also having to be worrying about keeping her safe, because I do love her.”

Sirius studied the face of the sixteen year old teenager in front of him, the scar, the bottle green eyes watching, pleading; Harry’s growing erection to emphasize his last point.

“Where are your glasses?” Sirius asked.

“Destroyed—” Harry said.

Knock! Knock!

“Harry,” Hermione said as she opened the door, “Some reporter—”

“Send them packing!” Harry replied, “Tell them Surrey, or Catchpole, or Brum!”

“That won’t work,” Hermione said, “Sorry. My Mum accidentally spilled—she tried not to, but reporters—”

“I won’t take this.” Harry stormed out of the room.

Harry glanced over the ledge of the balcony in the vaulted Granger living room, the cameraman was aimed at the kitchen doorway, and the staircase could be seen on the telly, live. With a push on the balcony, Harry leapt, crashed onto the cameraman—static showed for a brief moment on the telly, only to be replaced by the smoldering wreckage of the hospital. Dennis, the reporter, glared at Harry.

“This just in—” the anchor said.


“The people have a right to the truth!” Dennis shouted.


“You are trespassing,” Charles Granger informed Dennis, “Leave immediately, the police have been summoned.”

“People got killed and you survived!” Dennis yelled, “They need to—!”


Harry spun around, bent over, and mooned Dennis, from where a second camera was aimed, which is why Harry’s bare arse appeared on the telly, in full detail, including a need to wipe. A moment later, the picture was replaced by a test pattern.

“See what you just did?” Dennis yelled, “We get penalties for that type of stuff.”


“—serious situation,” the news anchor said, “Noigate Hospital leveled with many casualties—”

“SEE WHAT YOU FUCKING DID?!” Harry yelled, pointing to the telly.

Charles opened the front door.

“Your moment of fame—” Dennis yelled.

“GOOD!” Harry shoved Dennis out, and Charles closed the door.

“You clearly didn’t like them,” Charles said.

“I’ve had more than enough fame for a lifetime,” Harry replied.

Ron helped Harry bring the trunk in from the boot of Linda’s bright yellow automobile into 26 Oak, setting it down in the living room.

“Well, good luck Mate,” Ron said.

“It’s just across town,” Harry said, “I’ll be over tomorrow morning.”

“Gia, you’ll always be welcome,” Linda said.

Linda and Ron went back to the car. Harry stepped over Snuffles, the Animagus form of Sirius Black, who laid outside on the front step. Richard came down the stairs into the living room, just after Harry closed the door; Richard was barefooted, barechested, with plaid blue boxers, which was overdressed when compared with Harry’s and Gia’s nudity.

“Well,” Richard said, “You need the tour.”

Richard, a couple of inches taller than Harry, went along the wall of the stairs, took the sharp turn to the set of stairs leading down. They descended down into the basement; in the middle was a general storage, with plenty of boxes, a work area over tot he left, and a laundry with toilet in the far corner. They walked over to the work area, where a work bench had numerous disassembled electronics and projects. Harry picked up a small circuit board with funny pieces mounted on the firm green plastic–like board; however, it was all fuzzy to him.

“Aw,” Richard said, “Variable Frequency Oscillator.”

“Huh?” Harry muttered.

“He’s into amateur radio,” Gia said.

“Don’t quite understand it,” Harry said, “But you seem to know it.”

Harry placed the circuit back onto the bench. They went past the furnace and water heater, before returning up the stairs. Richard closed the door, and they went right, into the dining room, and right into the study.

“Quiet place, when you need it,” Richard said.

He turned around, nipples forward, and walked around the dining table, turned left, into a kitchen.

“Mum complains it could be bigger,” Richard said, “Maybe a conservatory out back, but it works. Even has a small spare toilet.”

“Three?” Gia asked.

“Yep,” Richard said.

They turned left, past a spiral stairs, back into the living room; this time, the fireplace was to their immediate left. Richard’s thighs flexed as he crossed the living room, around the sofas, back to the stairs leading up, and they went up. At the top was a small landing with five doorways and four doors, the one directly at the end led to the upstairs toilet; the other four were angled to face the center of the landing.

“Who the fuck, Dickhead?” asked a fourteen year old girl inside the room to the immediate hard right from the landing, it was a cluttered room without a door, and a rather lumpy blanket on the bed.

“That’s Ant,” Richard said, “My baby sister.”

“I’m Andrea!” Andy said, to Harry and Gia, “Or, Andy, if you prefer.”

“Call me Richard, not Dickhead!” Richard retorted to Andy.

“Strange,” Andy said, “You show your dick–head to Jenital at every opportunity.”

Richard punched her on the arm.

“Gawking at Stephen’s?” Richard said, “He’s on your bed, isn’t he?”

“No,” Andy said.

“Liar,” Richard retorted.

“Fuck you,” Andy said, returning to her green painted bedroom.

Richard pointed to the next room on the right, in the back corner, next to the lavatory, it too, was a cluttered room.

“Your room, now,” Richard said, “It’s getting cleared—some tonight.”

Gia pushed inward enough to see the myriad of boxes, books, and clothing littering the floor and covering the bed. Richard went in, gave an unceremonious shove using the duvet for assistance, the stuff on the double wide bed tumbled to the floor.

“Has that lived in look,” Gia said as they returned to the landing, “Not that I’m complaining, mine was reduced to rubble in the spring.”

“It was short notice,” Richard said, “Still, it’ll motivate Mum and Dad. Dad’s likely trying to sleep—” he pointed to the door to the immediate left of the bathroom “—and mine is here.”

Richard opened the door to the left of his parents, into a dark blue. While this room was cluttered, it had a different flare. A girl was sitting on the bed, painting.

“My bird, Jen,” Richard said.

Gia moved over, to see the painting that Jen kept Richard from seeing, one of a nude Richard with a lasso twirling in the hand.

“Fascinating,” Gia said.

“I wanna see it,” Richard said.

“It’s not ready,” Jen replied.

Harry, though, glanced around at the many plastic models, however, his eyes fixed onto one dangling from the ceiling.

“MIR space station,” Richard said.

“Cool,” Harry said.

Gia went to the sliding glass door, it led to a roof deck, a hot tub was on it.

“Accessible from here or from Mum and Dad’s,” Richard said, “Even some portable blinders for sanctuary.”

Richard walked them through the open door onto the deck. Gia moved past the blinders, seeing how they’d obscure the view from the sides. Richard sat on top of the spa.

“Welcome to the family, with it comes great responsibility,” Richard said, “First, it is acceptable to be less than decent—something you’ve already taken to doing. Second, never make your bed. Third, your floor can be your cupboard. This is now your home too—so do not act like a guest. Finally, treat Ant with disrespect.” Richard smiled. “Now, your moon shot—brilliant!”

“Yeah,” Harry said, “Shove a camera at me—”

“Mum deals with them all the time,” Richard said, “Betchya she laughed. Though she’s working.”

“Odd hours?” Gia asked.

“Chief of Police and the hospital collapsed with plenty of people dead?” Richard said, “She’s definitely at work dealing with it.”

“It was standing this morning,” Harry said.

“Of course it was,” Richard said, “Mum’ll talk about it when she gets home, though, I do wonder why it collapsed.”

“An intriguing plan,” said the man with red–slitted eyes, standing in front of a slow burning fireplace, green images of two floating above it, “Given your goal, a Quidditch analogy is fitting. Though I expect I will be disappointed, am I right, Keeper? Seeker?”

“I am ready,” the Seeker promised.

“I doubt you are,” the man said, “I want Harry Potter.”

“Forgive me, my Lord,” the Keeper said, “We can use Harry Potter, alive, for now, to get you the power that rightfully belongs to you.”

“It means delays,” Voldemort said.

“Potter deserves what he’s about to get,” the Seeker said, “What he has already gotten—that Muggle Hospital was a bit of a quirk, but one that I managed.”

“Even the Muggles are not that daft,” the Keeper said to the Seeker, “Focus on the plan, Hogwarts.”

“Yes,” the Seeker replied.

“Yet Harry Potter stays alive,” Voldemort said.

“You gave me new life to pursue this,” the Keeper said, “By the end, every Wizard and Witch will be begging you to dispose of Harry Potter and his allies; and you will mercifully grant it. You will have no resistance.”

Chapter Text

Harry and Gia were woken Wednesday morning, by fourteen year old Andy, jumping on the bed. Right above Harry, Andy’s bare knockers swung up and down.

“What the fuck?!” Harry demanded.

“Ant!” Richard shouted, coming toward the open bedroom door.

“Look at them!” Andy protested, pointing downward at Harry’s hard erection jutting straight up.

Both Harry and Gia were in their usual skin uniforms.

“Like you’re one to judge!” Richard said, glaring at his sister in just a pair of light green panties, “Let them SLEEP!”

Andy jumped off the bed, pulled down Richard’s boxers exposing his circumcised penis beneath brown pubic hair, and shoved. Richard fell backward onto his rear.

Kristen came out of her room; dressed in a nightgown.

“Andrea Osborn,” Kristen said, “You are on restriction!”

“He started it!” Andy protested, pointing to Richard, with tears flowing down her face.

“Your bedroom, NOW!” Kristen said, her glare caused Andy to back into her green bedroom, the one lacking a door. “Stephen is to leave.”

“Mum!” Andy protested.

“Sorry about that,” Kristen said into Gia’s room, “Good morning.” Kristen turned her glare back to Andy’s retreat into her bedroom, while the lump beneath the blankets on the bed hurriedly dressed; trousers, a shirt, sucked in by the person below the sheets.

Quickly, a brown haired Stephen Stewart, younger brother to a recently deceased classmate of Gia’s, was red faced as he left Andy’s bedroom, went down the stairs. Kristen returned to her bedroom; Richard went into his.

Naked, Harry and Gia went down the stairs; made the hard right, and right, to enter the dining room. Kurt Osborn was there, fork to a plate with fruit and pancakes on it; his eyes moved to see the two enter.

“Glad to see you’ve already made yourself at home,” Kurt said between bites.

“It’s kind of you,” Gia said.

“Relax, you’re part of the family now,” Kurt said, “I made a bunch, keeping them warm in the oven, help yourself.”

Harry and Gia went into the kitchen. Harry grabbed the syrup bottle, held it near Gia’s chest.

“Blimey,” Gia said, “Going mental?”

“Nah, just wondering,” Harry said, fiddling with the cap while holding the bottle upside down over her left boob.

“Let’s not test their generosity with a food fight,” Gia said, holding a jar a jelly over his head.

“Smoother you with syrup?” Harry asked, pushing his stiffening erection against her skin.

“Heh,” Gia said, “Doctor said a week, so I’m sticking with that.”

“Madam Pomfrey—” Harry started.

“Has she cleared your todger?” Gia asked.

“No,” Harry said, drearily.

“They had to cut you open,” Gia said, “I want to keep you, so we’re heeding his advice, alright?”

“I guess so,” Harry said.

“Now, lets get you fed,” Gia said, handing Harry a plate.

Gia pilled on a small stack of pancakes, added on some slices of bacon, before grabbing a plat for herself. They carried them into the dining room. Harry sat on the deep green padded leather of the wooden dining chair, his bollocks hung over the edge; Gia sat to the other side. Harry watched Gia dribbling the syrup onto his pancakes, he imagined it flowing across the smooth skin of her boobs instead.

“Oh,” Kurt said, “We’ll expect some help around the house, can you handle that?”

Harry watched Gia’s face.

“Suppose it’s fair,” Harry said.

“Nothing major, just dishes and light cleaning,” Kurt said, “From the yelling earlier, Andrea will be taking care of most of it today, tomorrow, and maybe for the next week.”

“Are Richard and Ant always like that?” Gia asked.

“I know something’s wrong if I don’t hear them fighting by nine in the morning,” Kurt said.

An hour later, Snuffles followed Harry and Gia as they left the house; they walked along. Harry’s unkempt hair covered his scar, he held Gia’s hand, his penis remained soft as he walked. Both Harry and Gia kept an eye on Snuffles running around, first checking out a car, then the fire hydrant.

“You make a good hound,” Harry said toward Snuffles.

They walked over a small footbridge over a creek; Snuffles plunged into the water, came back out, stood right in front of Harry and Gia; Snuffles shook vibrantly, flinging water at Harry.

“Cut that out,” Harry said before he smiled, “If the doggy wants a bath, I’m sure we can find the most embarrassing—”

Snuffles lunged toward Harry, knocking Harry backward onto his butt on the grass; Snuffles towered over Harry, growled.

“If you’re going to be like that,” Harry said, “We could stop by the vet, get you fixed.”

Snuffles whimpered loudly, put his tail between his legs to tightly guard things, and moped off. Gia gave Harry a hand in getting back up, and she was chuckling.

“You two can be so funny,” Gia said.

“I’m sure Snuffles will find more ways,” Harry said, “After which, he’ll need a flea bath tonight.”

Snuffles whimpered, Gia laughed.

“So, you’re wanting to visit a pet store?” Gia asked.

Harry laughed as Gia led him along.

“Maybe,” Harry replied, his arms wide as he skipped.

Harry jumped onto a low stone retaining wall lining the walk, squatted, faced the trail. Gia’s eyes traced the penis hanging forward, the bollocks that also bared themselves. Gia stopped in front of him; her right hand saddled his balls into her palm, and they became a bit pinker. His penis stiffened, engorging itself as she watched. He smiled.

“I told you, I’m following doctor’s orders,” Gia said.

Harry whimpered, Snuffles growled.

“Keep it quick then,” Harry said.

“I’m not stressing you out, and that’s final,” Gia said, “Though—” She leaned in, kissed his lips. “You’ll manage, like you did before we met.”

“Dull, drab,” Harry replied.

“Find another way,” Gia said, “I mean it.”

“Fine,” Harry said, “Keep holding.”

Harry’s hand held his hard erection, his stroked, letting his foreskin slip. His eyes roamed her smooth skin, studying her vagina for a moment, her breasts hanging out, before his eyes focused on her tongue, a blurry tongue reminding him of what she’d like to be doing to him. Her tongue moved rapidly, in and out, keeping pace with his strokes. He tensed up, she pulled her hand back to cup it in front of him; his bollocks swing freely. Harry aimed his hardness as his pearly off white semen poured out of his slit, catching in her cupped hand. He wiped his tip on her thumb.

“Better?” Gia asked, feeling his slightly contracted testicles.

“Yeah,” Harry said.

“Understand this, I want you healthy and well,” Gia said, “If they say no sex, I’ll stick with it.”

“Accidents come my way,” Harry said, jumping off the wall, “They simply do.”

“Then this—” Gia held her handful of his hot liquid up for him to see “—should motivate you to avoid those accidents.”

Harry watched as she tipped her hand, his cum moved along her fingers.

“Should be a reward for getting better,” Harry said.

“Better to not get hurt than it is to have to heal,” Gia said, “Come, lets go.”

Before Harry could protest, her hand joined his, held on, trapping his seed between the pads of their hands.

“Ew,” Harry muttered as they walked. Snuffles came back, roamed in front of them for a short while.

“You want to put that inside me,” Gia said, “Remember that.”

Harry glanced about.

“Hey, thought we were heading to Hermione’s,” Harry said.

“Nope, you’ve got an appointment,” Gia said.

“Appointment?” Harry asked, stopping in his tracks.

“Your glasses were destroyed, and I figure you’d need a new pair,” Gia said.

“I’d like to try without them,” Harry said.

“How many strands of hair do I have?” Gia asked.

“Dunno, lots,” Harry said.

“Lets get you fitted up,” Gia said, “You need those glasses replaced.”

Harry kept his scowl, but followed, slowly. Gia tugged on his arm, and Harry sped a bit back up, but slow enough to make Gia pull him along. They crossed an intersection, Harry tripped on the curb, but caught his balance to recover.

“Get my point?” Gia asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “Guess I do.”

They walked along High Street, came to the optometrist’s office, where Harry stopped.

“You need them if you wanna see my boobs in full clarity,” Gia said.

Gia opened the door, pulled Harry in, and they approached the desk with the lady receptionist behind it.

“Have a nine thirty appointment,” Gia said, “His old glasses were broken.”

Gia took the forms, filled them out for Harry, and they sat down on several chairs. Harry trembled; she reached over, caressed his ears. She glanced at his penis, idle.

“It’s a simple thing, the exam,” Gia said.

“I know,” Harry muttered.

“Harry?” asked a girl from the hallway, she had on a white lab coat.

Gia escorted Harry up; the girl’s eyes looked him over, from the chest to the soft todger hanging between his legs, as Harry approached. They went down the small corridor, into a small office. Gia guided Harry onto the patient chair before she sat on a metal folding one. An slightly overweight with a potbelly optometrist of average height, a Dr. Purdy, entered the room, and laid open manila folder onto the counter.

“How long since your previous exam?” Dr. Purdy asked.

“Dunno,” Harry said, “Maybe six or seven years, can’t remember exactly.”

“So, contacts or glasses?” Dr. Purdy asked.

“Um…” Harry muttered.

“Those glasses were distinctive,” Gia said, “Might try the contacts.”

“Think it over,” Dr. Purdy said, “So—” he moved the retinoscope to Harry “—tell me, better or worse.”

Over the next ten minutes, Dr. Purdy adjusted the dials, as Harry repeated, before settling on the correction factor.

“And, glasses or contacts?” Dr. Purdy asked.

“Contacts,” Harry said.

“I still recommend a pair of glasses,” Dr. Purdy said, “Good as a backup, you shouldn’t wear contacts all the time, and, if you want a basic pair, we can have them ready shortly.”

Gia nodded.

“Yes,” Harry said.

Dr. Purdy took several measurements.

“Let me get this to the optician,” Dr. Purdy said, jotting down a note onto a separate form, “And follow me.”

Dr. Purdy led them out, across the corridor, indicating for them to wait; left.

“Feels weird,” Harry said.

“New looks,” Gia said, her hand massaged his scrotum.

Dr. Purdy returned, brought Harry to another machine, measuring the curvature of his eyes.

“Glass or disposables?” Dr. Purdy said, “Glass is cheaper so long as you clean them.”

“Disposables,” Harry said.

Dr. Purdy jotted this down.

“It’ll take probably take fifteen to thirty minutes after you select the frames,” Dr. Purdy said, “You can schedule an appointment in a week—”

“Another appointment?” Harry asked.

“Supervise and train you up on using the contacts,” Dr. Purdy said, “They’ll be here in a week.”

“I’ve got school next week!” Harry said.

“We can rush the order, for a fee, naturally,” Dr. Purdy said, “Be ready sometime tomorrow.”

“Done,” Harry said.

Dr. Purdy led them back to the front; where they went through the limited selection of frames.

“Like your old ones,” Gia said, pulling out a pair of round spectacles.

“Cheapest ones, like the Dursleys would buy,” Harry said.

“And they were the ones that helped me fall in love with you,” Gia said, “Besides, just a backup, cheap means it’s easier if they’re busted, again.”

“True,” Harry said.

Harry put the frames on the desk, Dr. Purdy went back, while they waited.

Ring! Ring!

Gia reached to Harry’d butt, pulled her mobile out of his ass. She brought the phone to her ear.

“Hello?” Gia said, “Hi! … Yes! … I think I could. Harry’d be happy … understood, yep. See you shortly. I’m on High Street, in about thirty minutes. Later.”

“And?” Harry asked.

“Uncle Marty wanted to visit,” Gia said.

“He’s the good one, right?” Harry asked.

“I don’t see him often,” Gia said, “I mean, he’s normally all the way in Liverpool! So, can you survive the day without me?”

“Huh?” Harry asked.

“It’d be a bit crowded, besides, thought you wanted to study with Ron and Hermione,” Gia said.

“I wouldn’t say want to study,” Harry said, “Though I suppose I ought to.”

“I’ll miss you too,” Gia said.

Harry stepped closer, kissed. His hands massaged her breasts. Gia sat, laid down across the chairs, Harry got on top of her, held her. Her hands worked his butt.

“No sex,” Gia muttered.

“Kissing allowed?” Harry asked.

“Sure,” Gia said.

Harry kept it up, working his tongue onto hers.

“Ready,” said the receptionist, a short while later.

Harry got up, walked over, put the glasses on.

“Whoa!” Harry said, “Much better than the old ones.”

“Eight years?” Gia said, “To sixteen, that’s a lot of time, your eyes must’ve changed.”

“Guess so,” Harry said.

Harry paid for them.

“There they are,” Gia said, rushing for the door.

Harry followed a moment later, as Uncle Marty and Cousin Trevor came up to them; Snuffles was nearby, trying to bite into a car bumper.

“Nice meeting you again,” Uncle Marty said to Harry.

“He needs to study for school,” Gia said.

“I’ll see you later,” Harry said, giving Gia another kiss.

Harry took the few steps, made his way toward the familiar house.

Harry entered Hermione’s house, her eyes were on him from her spot next to the coffee table; Ron stood nearby.

“You’re naked!” Hermione said.

“So are you, and me,” Ron said, “Thought that’s what you wanted, your handsome blokes of friends, unmasked.”

“To go to Diagon Alley like that?” Hermione asked.

“So soon?” Harry said, “We can do that tomorrow.”

“Good, so that means you’ve got your books,” Hermione said, “Well, you can work on your essay on incubation of dragon eggs.”

“Let the dragon do it,” Harry said.

“Brilliant!” Ron exclaimed.

“We’ll go tomorrow,” Harry said, “Or Friday, I mean, you’ve got the books already.”

“And mark up mine?” Hermione said, before her eyes turned to Ron with a quill, “Quit that!”

“Actually my trunk’s back over at Gia’s,” Harry said, pointing to the door, his armpit hair showing, “I’ll be back, later.”

“The best use of your time would be to simply go to Diagon Alley,” Hermione said.

“Lets see how you take care of dragon eggs,” Harry said, sitting down by the coffee table, his buttocks spread out on the carpet.

“I’ll be—just a moment,” Hermione said, getting up. She walked over to the fireplace, threw in some Floo Powder.

“You know, it’d be easier to send her with the list,” Ron said to Harry.

“I wanted to bring Gia,” Harry said, “She’s out with her Uncle now.”

“Aw, I was wondering,” Ron said.

An brown owl swooped in, dropped an envelope, a red envelope, addressed to Harry.

“Who’d send me a Howler?” Harry asked, taking the envelope.

“You’ve been walking around naked all summer?” Hermione said, “Plenty of people, I’d expect.”

“You’re naked, and so am I!” Ron said.

“We’re all in this together,” Harry said.

“Well,” Ron said, “Open it.”

Harry opened it.

Mr. Harry Potter, you are formally invited to visit 93 Diagon Alley; bring your best friend and enjoy the Weasley Wizarding Wheezes experience of a lifetime!

“Those bloody menaces,” Ron said, grabbing the letter, “Dressing an advert up as a Howler!”

“Cheers,” Hermione said.

Ron and Harry felt the customary jerk at the naval, the letter pulled them out of Noigate, through the air, and dropped them onto a hard oak floor. Two red haired individuals, a Fred and a George, looking down on the two naked friends.

“Bloody Hell!” Ron said, “You snakes!”

“I’m guessing Hermione was in on this,” Harry said, standing up.

Harry glanced around at the shop, multiple floors, with lights, noises, and plenty of others, young and old, looking about. Harry became very conscious that he was naked, and these were not strangers; instead, they were people who’d recognize his scar, these were classmates who went to Hogwarts, one misstep and his naked body becomes The Daily Prophet’s front page along with complete measurements into Witch Weekly .

“Not as dimwitted as she claims you to be Harry,” Fred said, “As you were procrastinating, and we, having your best interests at heart—”

Ron snorted.

“But we do,” George said, “That and we needed somebody to test out that advert; thank you for volunteering.”

“A warning would’ve been nice,” Harry said.

“Keep calm, collect your school supplies, hang out, and go back,” Fred said, “Or, we’ll yell out, ‘Harry Potter’, and see how well you fare.”

“You wouldn’t—” Harry started.

“Don’t try us,” George said, “I’d recommend a visit to Quality Quidditch Supplies first, though too bad you didn’t bring your brooms, you could’ve gotten them autographed.”

“Let’s go,” Ron seethed.

“You can borrow this,” Fred said, handing a familiar backpack over to Harry.

Harry took the backpack, left the shop, and slung it over his shoulders; Ron grabbed the one from George, followed and they walked onto the cobblestone street of Diagon Alley.

“Those weasels,” Ron said, “We were about to come!”

“Yep,” Harry said, “Hermione was definitely in on it, otherwise, why’d they have our backpacks?”

Ron halted, pinkness swelled on his face; a young witch, in front of them, stared. A quick flicker of the eyes and Harry saw the issue, as Ron’s flesh engorged itself, ratcheting upward, as a show to the young witch watching Ron pop a stiffy.

“Gotta go back,” Ron said, fully primed, hard erection jutting outward.

“Lets just get this over with,” Harry said, feeling the same as Ron.

Straps on their bare shoulders, across their pects, as they started up the alley. They noticed black hair, a lot of jet black hair as they walked along; every third to fourth person was wearing black hair along with the familiar round glasses.

“You know, it may be a bit easier to blend in,” Ron said.

“Blend in?” Harry said, “We’re NAKED!”

“Glad that blast didn’t affect your eyesight,” Ron said.

“Cross our fingers and hope for the best,” Harry said, “Unless you really want to bind that thing into some stupid bit of underwear.”

“Guess there is that,” Ron said, fondling his loose testicles.

“Need me to suck that?” Harry asked.

“No,” Ron said, his hand gripped his cock, began to stroke.

“That explains it,” Harry said, pointing to UHP Gift Shop , where a dangling banner hung across Diagon Alley proclaiming Harry Potter Look Alike Day!

“Great to know when I’m tossing off in the street!” Ron said.

“Suppose we could’ve found a loo,” Harry said, facing Ron, eyes down on the hard erection below the red pubic hair.

“Fun,” Ron said, coldly, before pausing.

Ron pushed down as the first sputtering squirt came, he ejaculated, and the wad of semen sailed an inch below Harry’s loose testicles, between his legs.

“Thank you for your consideration,” Harry said.

“After you complained about it,” Ron said.

“I wasn’t complaining,” Harry said, “Done?”

“Yeah,” Ron said, the softening cock kept dribbling a bit.

“Let’s move,” Harry said.

They moved along, until stopped by a crowd in front of Quality Quidditch Supplies . On an elevated platform in front of the store was a brown and long haired individual.

“Whitehorn!” Ron exclaimed.

Eyes, scowling eyes, burned into Harry and Ron.

“Yes,” Whitehorn said, “There is always a prototype, some work, some do not. As to the Firebolt, it will prove to be the best broom for quite some time; you will not be dissatisfied with this broom.”

“And we have a pair,” Ron whispered, referring to the broom that Sirius had given him during the previous year.

“Will it be discounted?” one gentlemen asked.

“No,” the shop keeper, standing near Whitehorn, said.

“How fast can your fastest prototype go?” a lady asked, her pink clothes fluttered and a quill moved.

“Let’s go,” Harry muttered.

They moved along, around this crowd and the small one around Fourish and Blotts , to pass into Gringotts Wizarding Bank .

“Don’t have the key—” Ron muttered.

“Then stay here,” Harry said, “Got enough for things?”

“Yes,” Ron snapped.

Ron followed Harry into the cart with the goblin; the cart moved along the maze of tracks until it came to a stop in front of Vault 687.

“Don’t look,” Harry stated.

After grabbing it out of his arse, Harry gave his key and the goblin opened the vault. Ron looked over Harry’s shoulder as coins tumbled into the purse. Harry shoved the purse into his arse as the goblin closed the vault door, and moved the cart forward. Harry watched Ron’s face as they returned to the surface and left Gringotts Wizarding Bank .

“Not again!” Harry grumbled.

“Must be—” Ron exclaimed.

“You came!” Harry snapped.

“You can buy Hogwarts!” Ron replied. He glared at Harry before looking away, he slumped his arms against his chest.

“Fine sour puss,” Harry said.

Ron wandered off while Harry went into Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions .

“We normally don’t get customers immediately ready to try the merchandise,” said the squat witch, Madam Malkin, with her flowing hair changing colors, rotating between lighter pinks, purples, blues, and an occasional green, as she approached Harry.

“Long story,” Harry said, “Simply more comfortable, but I’ve got school.”

“Hogwarts, of course,” Madam Malkin said, her eyes roving until they landed on the loose genitals dangling before her, “Completely daring would be to take the train like that.”

“Wasn’t planning on that,” Harry said, “Though, I seem to go through uniforms.”

“Of course,” Madam Malkin said, “So, why is this more comfortable than being dressed?”

“Must I state the obvious?” Harry said, holding his scrotum.

“Aw, the boy problem,” Madam Malkin said, “Come this way.”

Harry knew he wasn’t the only customer, wondered if Madam Malkin was catering to him because of his name, or just being regular customer service. Madam Malkin brought him to a rack toward the back, held out a pair of white briefs.

“Try these on,” Madam Malkin said.

Harry lowered them down, stepped into them, and pulled the briefs up. His skin crawled, the sensation of the woven cloth against his buttocks felt foreign to him, but his testicles felt free. His hand moved to the front of him, where it fell through, to flatness.

“What?” Harry stammered, “Where—?”

“Still there,” Madam Malkin said as Harry quickly removed the briefs, “Rather than a regular…pocket, it hides while giving plenty of room.” She demonstrated, putting her hand where Harry’s dick had been, pushing inward, but the outside didn’t budge.

“I’m not looking to hide,” Harry said, “I want my girlfriend to see 'em, know it’s still there.”

“I do appreciate your confidence in showing it to me,” Madam Malkin said, “Too many wizards exaggerate, only to complain that it doesn’t fit right. Lie to me and it’s going to hurt.”

“I spent the summer like this,” Harry said.

“Don’t encourage that, it’d be bad for business,” Madam Malkin said, grabbing another pair, handing them over.

Harry put these on, they felt roomy, glanced down, exact contours as the cloth hugged his skin.

“Too close,” Harry said, “Reminds me of…” He tried to expel the memory, Aunt Petunia insisting to inspect the fit when he’d try on a pair, only to have him reseal the package to put back onto the shelf; she would always get him two, at most, two pairs at a time, and that was only after the others would nearly be disintegrated. “How about none?”

“So, just roomy is fine?” Madam Malkin asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “I’d probably need the wardrobe.”

“Your trousers would need modifications,” Madam Malkin said, “Otherwise it’s the same issue. On a Wednesday, with the back orders, Sunday is the soonest I can promise.”

“Train’s on Sunday,” Harry said, “I’d be on my way to Hogwarts.”

“Any casual wear?” Madam Malkin asked.

“I’ll send for some later,” Harry said, not wanting to disappoint her, because he figured Gia would want a say in that.

“I need some measurements, exact measurements,” Madam Malkin said, “Keep me from having to guess.”

“Okay,” Harry said.

“This includes everything,” Madam Malkin said, bringing the tape measure to his penis, “Alright with it?”

“Yeah, get it over with,” Harry said.

Her fingers moved the tape, measured from his pubic hair, along the softness, to the tip of his foreskin. She lifted it, measured the circumference around the shoulder of the glans. She moved to his scrotum, making every measurement that could be made; including the width, the depth, the height of each testicle, before she tickled his foreskin and his erection stiffened.

“Better than your lying about it,” Madam Malkin said.

Again, she measured, length, girth, before retracting the foreskin.

“Now you’re just playing,” Harry said.

“It’ll be a better fit,” Madam Malkin said, her tape measure now moving itself to other parts of him, from his toes, to his feet, to his legs, to his chest, to his arms, to his neck, and to his face. “That and it likes to get everything.”

“Don’t doubt it,” Harry said as the tape began measuring inside his butt crack, “A person walks in naked—”

“You’re such a good sport about it,” Madam Malkin said, “Lets go over the customizations that are available.

A short while later, Harry handed over some Galleons, left; entered the Alley. Harry looked around, saw the familiar red hair at Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour , eating the smallest of small sundaes. Harry went to Mr. Fortescue, handed him several Sickles.

“I do not think your friend is happy Mr. Potter,” Mr. Fortescue said.

Harry sat down, in the corner away from Ron; however, Ron’s eyes kept darting at Harry.

“He’s jealous,” Harry said, “He’s richer in many ways—”

“People generally look past what they have and focus on what they do not,” Mr. Fortescue said.

“It’s going to tear us apart,” Harry said.

“Money has destroyed the most treasured of friendships before,” Mr. Fortescue said, “Tread carefully.”

“Ta,” Harry said as he stood, “Any advice on getting him to realize this?”

“You will find the answer,” Mr. Fortescue said, “I’m confident of that.”

Harry left, Ron followed, only to be brought to a slow crawl outside Fourish and Blotts bookstore.

Harry found it a bit bemusing that nobody seemed to care that he was naked in this crowd, well, only the backpack saved the middle of his back, a sensation that he wanted to be over with. So far, nobody seemed to complain, and he found himself okay with that. He even spotted what seemed a familiar face, one he sort of knew from Hogwarts but did not recognize, she grinned at the sight of his soft todger hanging out.

“Excuse me,” Harry said, parting the crowd to enter, “Oh no!”

A sign next to the store read, ‘Book signing today by Gilderoy Lockhart’ .

People, however, stayed clear of the steam rising from a vat of water outside the store. The manager saw Harry and Ron approaching.

“Hogwarts?” the manager asked.

“Sixth year,” Harry said.

“Oh no,” the manager said, “And I thought Monster Book of Monsters was bad.”

With tongs, the manager reached into the vat.

“Dry one please,” Ron said.

“Burned to a crisp,” the manager said, bringing out a book that shot out flame, “Have your dragon hide ready?”

Harry grabbed the book, it immediately calmed down.

“H–How?” the manager stammered.

Harry shot a look at Ron, then grinned, he then handed it to Ron.

“Talent then,” the manager said, “Good luck.”

Harry walked into the store, Ron behind him, avoided the centered desk in the back, and went up the stairs.

“Hi ya Harry.”

Harry turned, Neville just below him.

“Hi,” Harry said.

“You’re casual,” Neville said.

“Am I?” Harry asked, putting his left foot up a step.

“Quite,” Neville said.

Harry felt a bit of nerves, this went from a crowd, to a person he knew, one that, sure, might have seen something in the dormitory, but here, Harry was butt naked and not bothering to hide it. Neville, was a foot or two away, steps down, which made the eye level straight at Harry’s crotch, the bollocks hanging loose.

“Should think we petition Hogwarts to change the school uniform?” Harry asked.

“No,” Neville said, “Daring though, I couldn’t.”

“It’s me,” Harry said, “Totally me.”

“No charms?” Neville said, “I mean, what’s the point if you don’t…enhance things?”

“Not…those exist?” Harry asked.

“Yeah,” Ron said, “Figured you wouldn’t be interested.”

“Who’s prank was this?” Neville asked.

“We’ll protect the guilty,” Harry said.

“Anything interesting happen this summer?” Neville asked.

“Loads,” Ron said, “Mind us getting our school things?”

“Sure,” Neville said, “See you at school, though maybe less of that.”

“Is this ugly?” Harry asked.

“Not keen on seeing it,” Neville said, “Have to ask Luna if you want a second opinion.”

“Let’s move,” Ron said to Harry.

“Later,” Harry said.

“Yeah,” Neville said.

Harry and Ron climbed the rest of the steps, got some of their books before coming back down. The crowd inside the store slowed their walk, able to make a step every ten seconds, to get to the rest of the stacks of the year’s books. They paid for them, stored them in their backpacks, before they headed out the door. Hands gripped both of their shoulders before they could make it all the way out.

“Just a minute, boys,” said the familiar voice, “We have unfinished business.”

Harry and Ron spun around; standing in front of them was Gilderoy Lockhart.

“Absolutely amazing,” Lockhart said, “A fortune spent and years later, here I stand, me.”

“Ill advised waste of money,” Ron said.

“Not our teacher anymore,” Harry said.

“True, Mr. Potter,” Lockhart said, “Otherwise, I’d do something about your wardrobe.”

“Jealous?” Ron said, “No wrinkles.”

“You could both stand to use a bit of styling,” Lockhart said, the eyes surveyed the two naked teenage boys there, with Harry’s black pubic hair and Ron’s red billowing out, “Exceedingly drab and ordinary. Tell them I’ll authorize you getting Lockhart’s Bedroom Fashion , it’s in the adult section, help you accessorize and give you some ideas if you insist on trying to hook up like that.”

“My girlfriend likes it just the way it is,” Harry said.

“One potion to make those hang to the floor,” Lockhart said.

“And step on my balls?” Harry asked.

“Another to hide it when you take a leak,” Lockhart said, “Or did you think there was a reason these shops don’t have loos.”

“Are you saying you’re—right now?” Ron asked.

“I didn’t say that,” Lockhart said, “But you positively astound me.”

“How so?” Harry asked.

“Get a camera and a sign,” Lockhart said, “Chances to get a picture with the famous, naked Harry Potter? Five Galleons a pop, easy. Or…how much is your virginity worth to you?”

“Not a virgin,” Harry said.

“You don’t advertise that,” Lockhart said, “I can manage the event for you, collect the money.”

“My body is not for sale,” Harry said.

“A missed opportunity,” Lockhart said.

“You heard him,” Ron said.

“Bye,” Harry said.

“You missed something,” Lockhart said, “Nothing a good memory charm couldn’t solve.”

Harry spotted Lockhart’s wand showing, the tip peaking out from the robes, and Harry concentrated; the wand flew. Ron caught the wand, dropped it into the vat of smoldering books in front.

“Now boys—!” Lockhart complained.

“Getting it shouldn’t be difficult,” Harry said, “Not for a wizard with your gifted background, right?”

Ron laughed as he and Harry left the bookstore.

“That was irking,” Ron said.

“Got on my nerves,” Harry replied.

“Fortunately, didn’t see anything by him on the list,” Ron said, “He won’t be at Hogwarts.”

“Good!” Harry exclaimed.

They went to the Apothecary to get potion supplies, stopped by the stationary shop to pick up rolls of parchment, before they headed back. They came back across the UHP Gift Shop , where the crowd was even thicker. Many were there trying to look like Harry, some poor in effort, some good, and some ugly. Ron put up his arms, and shoved first, parting a way for Harry to come up behind.

“Ta,” Harry said to Ron.

“Blimey!” came the first harsh remark, along with “Watch where you’re going”, “Learn to be like Harry Potter,” and other worse things.

“Don’t tell Fred or George,” Ron said as they went into Gambol and Japes .

“Sure these might not be on the official list,” Harry said, loading up Dungbombs and fireworks into the basket, “But they’re still required. We’ll still check your brothers’ out, but we can mail order from them later if we run out.”

“True,” Ron said, delving into the pile of Exploding snaps.

They worked their way through, before paying and leaving. They went down to 93 Diagon Alley, with Weasley Wizarding Wheezes proudly painted on the outside.

“You know, I think Mum would be really proud,” Ron said, “Cashing in on their antics.”

“They had to practice it,” Harry said.

They entered 93 Diagon Alley; Ginny was now standing behind the counter. She slipped her hand along her skin, to beneath her trousers, the hand clearly massaging.

“George, Fred,” Ginny announced, “We have guests.”

“Stop fantasizing on me!” Harry said.

“You’re bloody NAKED!” Ginny said.

“So am I!” Ron said, “Though don’t fantasize over me either!”

“That’s not a concern,” Ginny stated.

“You don’t need to announce every customer,” George said, coming from a door in the back, “Though—”

“Who?!” Fred shouted, coming down the stairs from upstairs, “Oh,”

“Mind coming into the back?” George said, “Best not to distract the customers. Ginny, keep the money flowing in.”

Harry and Ron followed George into the back room, Fred came in behind. Harry spotted a beetle scurrying about the floor; he kicked it out the door, and stuffed a towel into the crack.

Hate bugs?” George asked as he sat on a wooden chair, the rest sat on the sofas in the small common room.

“Not when it’s Rita Skeeter—” Harry said, “She’s unregistered.”

“Based on your gait, your nudity and tossing off earlier,” Fred said, “That and what we saw back in Romania, you’re real wizards, you lost your virginity.”

“Of course,” Harry said, smiling.

“Show some tack Gred,” George said,

“Do we need to spell it out?” Fred said, “I presume Hermione.”

“Like we’d tell you,” Ron said.

“You know us.” Fred conjured up party hats. “Celebration!”


Some party paper blowouts appeared and were going full swing, fell from the ceiling, balloons floated upward. Ron’s face went bright pink.

“Rubbing it in?” Ron asked.

“Rubbing was involved?” George asked.

George’s chair started galloping like a bucking horse. George moved wildly as the chair shook him about before it finally threw him against the upward going stairs. His chair walked, ran, the wooden legs moved, taking itself down into the basement.

“Wicked—” Ron asked, “Something new?” He glanced at Harry’s eyes, grinned.

“Ow—” George moaned, getting up.

“Still lacking?” Harry asked, “I mean, you’re not real wizards, are you?”

“We are!” Fred protested, also getting up.

Ron perked up, looked up at his standing twin brothers.

“Who—?” Ron asked.

“Like we’d ever tell—” George said.

“Ginny—” Ron started to whisper.

“You wouldn’t—” Fred said.

“That’s extortion!” George protested.

Ron grinned.

“We’ve got some product ideas,” Harry said, “While I don’t have the time—”

“Our silent partner at work—” Fred said.

“Ss—what?” Ron asked.

“We had to finance,” George said, “We listed Harry as a silent partner—”

“That was eff’ing blood money!” Harry said, “I wasn’t keeping it.”

“Did you miss Cedric’s photo in front?” Fred said, “It’s over the front doorway.”

“Condoms,” Harry said, “Magic em to shrink a man’s todger or, using their mother’s voice, scold em—”

“And we’d decimate the Wizarding population,” George said.

Fred brought a different wooden chair over to Harry, sat on it backwards, but faced Harry.

“We’re curious, really curious to exactly when you became real wizards,” Fred said, “July?”

“You first,” Harry said, trying to bluff.

“Alright,” Fred said, “Halloween Dance last fall. Angelina.”

“Yeah, right,” Ron said, disbelieving, “Where?”

“Broom closet, fifth floor,” Fred said.

“Twice,” George said.

“No,” Fred said, “Only once, unfortunately she dumped me the next morning.”

“She thought you did her twice,” George said, “She said you were more mature the second time.”

“You asshole!” Fred leapt from his chair chasing George partially up the stairs.

“Paris,” Harry said.

“Really? Where?” George slipped past Fred to return. “A bathroom in the Louve?”

“Eiffel tower,” Harry said, “On top of it!”

“You’re pulling my leg,” George said.

“We brought our Firebolts,” Harry said, “We managed it.”

“Which day?” George said.

“The ninth, Gia’s birthday,” Harry replied.

“I’ll have to get the book, see who won the pool,” George said.

Ron laughed.

“Ron did too,” Harry said.

“You—” Ron started.

“Good,” George said, “Mum’s good for a lot, but making sure you move on in life, that’s what a brother’s for.”

Harry glanced at the clock.

“I did come to shop,” Harry said, “Then we’d be leaving.”

“Of course, of course,” George said.

George went over, held the door open, while Harry and Ron went out.

It was late into the evening before Harry and Ron stepped out of the fireplace into Hermione’s living room, which was empty.

“Hermione!” Harry shouted.

Their buttocks flexed, climbed the stairs, went to her bedroom, empty of her, though filled in books and things.

“Where is she?” Ron muttered, putting his backpack down.

“Dunno,” Harry said, going back down the stairs, “Oh, I get it.”

Harry’s ears had picked up the sound, and he walked to the back sliding glass door. He put his backpack down as he stepped out into the evening dusk. Giggling, watching Ron and Harry, were Gia and Hermione, in the hot tub, sipping on some champagne.

“Get everything?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah,” Ron said, stepping onto the tub’s edge.

“Did we say you could come in?” Gia asked.

“Got to hit the loo anyways,” Harry said.

“Let’s see,” Gia said.

Hermione laughed.

“Now?” Harry asked.

“Got to go or not?” Gia asked.

Harry stepped up to the edge of the hot tub, held his penis.

“Not there, silly, here,” Gia patted the water’s top.

Harry entered the tub, floated on his back, Gia held his penis upward, straight up.

“Not a loo at all there,” Harry said, “Well…”

“They’d have them,” Ron said, “Thought you would’ve asked.”

“Bet you flashed those things all over Diagon Alley too,” Hermione said.

“It’s not like you gave us a choice,” Ron said.

“Honestly thought their owls would’ve been slower,” Hermione said, “Given you a chance.”

“It’s been soft—” Harry paused as his dick stiffened “—was down all day.”

Hermione reached, held Harry’s dick too. Harry took a moment, to relax his bladder, the extra hands made it tougher, but he relaxed, released. Hermione and Gia watched, as Harry’s hard statute, jutting upward, turned into a fountain, and his yellow gyser jetted upward.

“Fascinating,” Hermione said, “Or at least that’s what you want to hear, right Harry?”

“Let him do it,” Gia said.

“I could’ve just watched him sleep,” Hermione said.

“Shh!” Ron hushed.

“What about my sleep?” Harry asked.

“Nothing,” Ron said, “Gotta go myself.”

Ron stood on the edge, held his own dick, and began to pee; he aimed, hit to join Harry’s yellow stomach.

“Hey!” Harry snapped.

“You’re a big boy,” Hermione said to Ron, in a mockery tone, “You can pee standing up!”

“Let em pee,” Gia said, “If they wanna show us, let them.”

Ron, though, moved his dick, peed on Hermione.

“Hey!” Hermione snapped.

Gia cantered Harry’s cock, Harry’s golden jet hit Hermione too. Ron finished first, slipped into the bubbles. Harry’s stream slowed, before it was just a dribble.

“You tricked us into going starkers at Diagon Alley,” Ron said to Hermione.

“Your faults for running around naked!” Hermione said.

“Which was your idea!” Ron replied.

“On July second, only!” Hermione said, “It was your idea to keep running around naked, screwing everything in sight.”

“And we’re all better for it,” Ron said, “It was a brilliant idea, just shortsighted if you thought it was only good on that one day. I know you way, way, better now because of it.”

“So everyone saw it?” Hermione asked, “Your dick?”

“Yep,” Harry said, “Some even liked it. Should bring you Gia, maybe bang!”

“No sex, remember?” Gia said, cupping Harry’s testicles.

“Doctor really said that?” Ron asked.

“Yep,” Harry said.

“Sorry there Mate,” Ron said, grabbing Harry’s hard cock, addressing it, “No action for a while.”

“Poor thing,” Hermione said as she gripped Harry’s dick, giggled.

“Somebody’s been taking a bit too much,” Gia said.

“I am feeling much better,” Harry said, “Can we do it tomorrow, every five minutes?”

Gia laughed as Snuffles transformed.

“Harry,” Sirius said, “You’re acting as immature as your age represents! If you’re trying to hide the fact that you’re a wizard in heat, you’ve got a funny way of going about it.”

“I’m not trying to hide,” Harry said.

“If you did half the things you suggested, you’d be in serious trouble,” Sirius said, “Do it Diagon Alley and you’ll ensure those coming after you will go after her; don’t make my task, the one you gave me, any more difficult, alright?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Harry said.

“Best if you headed back before your adopted family gets worried, right?” Sirius asked Gia.

“Yes,” Gia said, “Later Hermione.”

Gia stood up, dragged Harry for a moment before he stood; they got out, went into the house. Sirius stood there, waiting until he heard the front door.

“There’s more?” Ron asked.

“How long has he been like this?” Sirius asked.

“Naked?” Ron said, “Since we left for Romania, Hermione can explain why.”

“I was vaguely aware of that,” Sirius said, “He’s still at it, you both are too, plenty of times that somebody could’ve stopped him, could’ve intervened, they haven’t.”

“I had figured Professor Dumbledore arranged something,” Ron said.

“It would not have been him,” Sirius said, “It feels like a bewitchment.”

“I heard the summer heat convinced the police to turn a blind eye,” Hermione said.

“It was hot in July, halfway into August,” Sirius said, “It’s now the end of August, does it feel exceptionally hot to you?”

“No,” Ron said, “Thought my nuts were just getting a bit tighter.”

“Think about it as you’re playing with your love spuds,” Sirius said, “How often does the word coincidence’ go with Harry?”

“Not often,” Hermione said.

“Be watchful,” Sirius said.

“Keep Harry out of trouble,” Ron said.

Sirius transformed, Snuffles ran around the house and left.

“He’s right,” Hermione said.

“It could always be as simple as Harry wants to go around naked,” Ron said, his head turned, his eyes on her face, “You know, he gives off that aura that says, Don’t arrest me!

“Right, he strips, and nobody complains?” Hermione said, “Unlikely, it is weird.”

“Maybe, but I like it as it is,” Ron said, before a smile came onto his face.

“Are you about to—?” Hermione started to asked.

Ron planted his lips onto hers, kissed.

“Blegh!” Ron stammered.

“You pissed on me, remember?” Hermione said.

“Oh, lets wash,” Ron said, running his hand onto her face. He rinsed, rubbed.

“Thinking you’re going to bang me?” Hermione asked.

“No,” Ron said, “I think you’ll bang me.”

“I do want to see what you bought,” Hermione said, as she stood up.

“We’re done?” Ron asked.

“For tonight,” Hermione said, “Keep it easy beneath the sheets.”

Ron laid back, turned on the bubbles after Hermione left, lounged while staring up at the stars.

It was late Thursday morning when Harry and Gia had already left the optometrist on High Street, sweat followed the straps of the backpack over Harry’s shoulders, down his bare chest only to drip from his dick swaying as he walked.

“Still feel a bit weird,” Harry said.

“Millions of people wear them,” Gia said.

“I know, different,” Harry said.

“You’ll get used to them,” Gia said.

Snuffles pushed up against Harry’s legs, dropped a stick by his feet. Harry picked up the stick, gave a fake toss, Snuffles ran. Gia chuckled, glanced to Harry’s face, not for the last time, her eyes landed where the glasses used to be.

“Here we go,” Harry reached down, picked up a tennis ball.

“You two,” Gia said.

“Isn’t every boy supposed to have quality time with their godfather?” Harry asked.

Snuffles returned, saw the tennis ball, and Harry threw it. Snuffles ran, lunged after it. Harry stepped around an overturned wagon on the walk.

“Dad’s funeral is Saturday,” Gia said.

“I’ll come,” Harry said.

“Ta,” Gia said.

Snuffles dropped the tennis ball, barreled into the shrubbery — birds squawked and flew out of the bush.

“Annoying, the homework they assign before school even starts,” Harry grumbled.

They paused for a moment. She ran her finger up the ridge of his nose, up to his forehead, smiled.

“Yeah, better,” Harry said.

They continued, making it to Hermione’s house. Snuffles darted for the back, while Harry opened the door. They entered. Scratching of the quill gave it away, leading Harry and Gia to the dining room, where Ron and Hermione were sitting, naked. Books cluttered, while Crookshanks was sprawled out on top of some pieces of parchment. Harry stood behind Hermione, glanced down at the essays Hermione was preparing.

“Harry,” Ron asked, “What happened today?”

“Huh?” Harry muttered.

“Your glasses,” Ron said, “They’re missing.”

“Blimey!” Harry said to Gia, in a mocking tone, “Knew I forgot something.”

“You don’t forget,” Ron asked, “Where are they?”

Harry put his backpack down onto the table, took out Portkeys: Theory and Operation . Hermione rolled her eyes, which Ron spied.

“A guy’s got to do what a guy has to do,” Ron said.

“You still need your glasses,” Hermione said to Harry.

Harry pulled out a case, showed them, and put them back into the backpack.

“You’re teasing her, aren’t you?” Ron said.

“Not wearing them,” Harry said, sitting down.

“Contacts,” Gia said as she sat.

A grin crept across Hermione’s face. “It’s a better look.”

Ron raised his eyebrows as Harry took out the Hogwarts pins.

“Contacts replace the need for glasses,” Hermione said.

Ron’s eyes studied Harry’s.

“He just obliterated many lines of the Unofficial Harry Potter Fan Club merchandise,” Hermione said.

Harry grinned.

“Ginny’ll be very upset,” Ron said.

Harry shrugged.

“They have some that change the color of your eyes,” Hermione said, “That’d let you go incognito.”

A few minutes later, Sirius came in.

“Can you reconsider the collar?” Sirius asked, throwing his dog collar down onto the table, the license tags jingled.

Harry grabbed the collar, checked it.

“Fleas, ticks, or is it lice?” Harry asked.

“What?” Sirius asked.

“Here,” Harry said, pointing to a black spec that was moving.

“Fleas?” Hermione said, “Get it out!”

“Glad I burned James’ flea joke list,” Sirius said.

“I’ll let you wash yourself,” Harry said as he handed the collar back, “If you want one that guards against those, we’ll stop by the pet store.”

“No need for that,” Sirius said as he left the room.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione continued studying.

Chapter Text

“Where is he?” Hermione demanded, dressed in a long sleeved shirt and a pink jumper. She hung up the phone for the umpteenth time that Sunday morning, the first of September.

“It’s Harry,” Ron said, scratching at the collar of his shirt.

Ron and Hermione walked back into the living room. Linda Granger was pacing.

“Train’s at eleven,” Linda said, checking her watch, “Five minutes—we’re leaving with or without him.”

Hermione picked up her phone, hit redial. “Gia—where’s Harry? He needs to hurry over … We’re leaving in five minutes—don’t want him to miss—but— … Ta.”

“And—?” Ron asked.


Harry stumbled, fell onto the entry way; clothes were in his hands, but not on him. His trunk fell next to him; Linda watched the teenager fumbling.

“Come!” Hermione snapped.

Ron grabbed the trunk, helped carry it outside, into the boot of the car. Linda got into the driver’s seat and started the car.

“Cutting it a bit close?” Hermione asked, glancing between the seats to Harry staring at his clothes.

“We’ll make it,” Harry said.

Ron waved, breaking up the line of sight between Hermione and Harry dressing, he stuck his head in between. Hermione snorted.

“Your friend will make us—” Hermione said.

“As usual,” Ron stated, “Perfectly normal to run for the train—” Ron reached over the seat, grabbed Hermione.

“Not in front of your Mum–in–law,” Harry warned.

Ron blushed, Linda spat out tea, Hermione glared.

“We’re not—” Hermione stated.

“He’s proposed?” Harry asked.

The car lurched to the right, a horn blared, then Linda wrenched the steering wheel and brought them back between the lines. Pigwidgeon chirped.

“Have you?” Ron asked Harry.

“Should’ve happened ages ago,” Harry said as he watched Ron’s ears turn even pinker.

“Harry—” Ron squeaked.

“Anything interesting this year—?” Linda asked, attempting to divert the subject as they turned onto the motorway.

“Muggle studies—” Harry paused as Hermione snorted “—his woman studies—” Harry gave Ron a slight nudge.

“Are you mad?!” Ron exclaimed.

Harry smiled back.

“Moron,” Ron said.

A speeding citation later, for going ninety two in a sixty zone, they reached King’s Cross at 10:52. With a warning of the train, they leapt aboard as the train rolled down the track, with Harry having jumped several feet as the train nearly left without him.

“Wicked!” Ron said, “Can we cut it closer next time?!”

“NO!” Hermione exclaimed.

“We could jump back off and miss—” Harry said.

“There’s one,” Hermione said, pointing at the compartment at the end.

Harry entered the empty compartment first, then opened his truck and removed his books, some parchment, and an ink jar.

“Don’t tell me—” Hermione said.

“Just a little bit left to do,” Harry said.

Hermione snorted, watched as Harry worked on two essays. It was raining outside the train, the water flowed on the glass.

“For once your nagging paid off,” Ron said to Hermione.

Hermione switched seats, sat next to Ron, she caught his smile.

“Ron…” Hermione asked, his grin not letting up as he watched her.

Ron leaned over, kissed her.

“Keep it up,” Harry said, “Helps me concentrate.”

“Right,” Hermione said.

Ron, though, leaned over, hugged her.

“You know, these clothes are really uncomfortable,” Harry said, tugging at his shirt collar.

“Could change,” Hermione said.

“He means he wants to go starkers,” Ron said, smile on his face, “Not a bad idea, I liked it.”

“Somehow, I don’t think Hogwarts would agree to a dress code change,” Hermione said.

Ron leaned, setting Hermione down onto the bench. He laid on top of her.

“You’re simply beautiful, clothes detract,” Ron said.

“You tell her,” Harry said.

“You just want me naked,” Hermione said.

“Why cover up perfection?” Ron asked.

Ron kissed her.

“And you’re horny,” Hermione said, feeling into Ron’s trousers.

“Mind?” Ron asked.

“Go ahead,” Harry said.

“He wasn’t asking you,” Hermione said.

“Better than transfiguration,” Harry said.

“Let it out,” Ron said to Hermione.

Hermione unzipped Ron’s trousers, unbuttoned the top, and his hard erection came out; she unzipped her own. Ron parted the two halves, pulled the panties down, and felt it; he touched, rubbed her clitoris as he kissed her lips.

“Madam Malkin had underwear that’d expand to accommodate your stiffy,” Harry said, “Wonder if there’s something for couples, you know, puts your dick against the pussy.”

Ron seemed to take the suggestion, red flashed across his erection before it entered into Hermione. His hands slipped beneath her shirt, felt up to her bra and worked his way beneath them. He felt her small breasts, thumbs on her nipples, as he began to slide his cock back and forth, for a moment.

“Hello,” Seamus Finnigan said, coming into the compartment.

“Hello, nice seeing you,” Ron replied, keenly aware that his hard erection was in Hermione, wanting to be used, and wanting Seamus to finish so he could too.

“Studying?” Seamus asked Ron.

“Yes,” Harry said, deflecting the attention, “Transfiguration.”

“Done your Potions?” Seamus asked.

“That’s next,” Harry said.

“How was your summer?” Seamus said, “Heard something about traveling?”

“Yeah, across Europe,” Harry said, “Saw the dragons.”

“You could’ve just waited,” Seamus said, “That book is wicked.”

“It’ll be a fun year,” Harry said.

“Did you at least get laid?” Seamus asked.

“Excuse me?” Hermione scolded.

Seamus glanced at Ron and Hermione, where a bit of Ron’s shaft was showing, hard to miss as it shimmered a bit in red magic.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Seamus said.

“It’s cool,” Harry said.

“There comes Neville,” Seamus said, “I’ll keep him away for you.”

“Ta,” Harry said.

Seamus left.

“That’s why this is a bad idea,” Hermione said.

“Strangely makes it more enticing,” Ron said, “I’ll be quick.”

Ron flexed his hips, repeatedly, as he plied his stiff erection in Hermione. He held it in for a moment.

“Make your deposit,” Harry said.

“Did you know the school honor code applies on the train too?” Ginny asked, coming into the compartment.

“Bug off,” Ron said, turning around to face her, drips of semen clung to his slit as it seeped out, “You’re not Head Girl.”

“You could become infamous,” Ginny said, “Be the first Weasley expelled from Hogwarts.”

Hermione moved to sit upright. Ron grabbed a tissue, wiped his dick before restoring his underwear, his trousers.

“Do you mind?” Harry said to Ginny, “Don’t want me to be expelled for not getting my homework done.”

Ginny left.

“Thanks,” Ron said.

“Anything from the trolley?” asked the lady pushing the cart past.

“Yeah,” Harry said, standing. He paid for a few treats, handed them to Ron, and sat back down.

Hermione got a Daily Prophet, when the front page article was plainly visible for them to see.

1 September, 1996

Fudge Removed

After a vote of no confidence in the Wizengamot two weeks ago, former Minister for Magic Cornelius Oswald Fudge has been removed from office having been unable to bolster his ratings. Stepping into this role, the leader of the opposition, Victor Fallerschain, who promises reforms will be installed on Monday.

“With Fudge—” Hermione said to Ron.

“A Mr. Victor Fallerschain,” Ron said, “Dad mentioned him—seems clean and decent, even Skeeter can’t seem to find anything. He’s currently interim until the Wizengamot can ratify—new blood is what’s needed. Dad’s worried about him possibly sacking the old—”

“Like we’d be soo sorry for that!” Malfoy entered the compartment, followed by Crabbe and Goyle. “Suppose it’d be another sign of the errors of your ways Potter. Protecting Muggles, Mudbloods, and other rubbish; leads to consequences such as poverty, dead mothers, and broken homes. That shack wasn’t worth much anyways.”

“Out, Malfoy!” Harry was now standing, wand drawn. “Your presence is unwelcome.”

“Careful Potter, you’re picking up their bad habits.” Malfoy sniffed the air. “Easy to follow the stench—they can’t afford to clean their diapers, but you—”

Red light shimmered in the compartment as stunning curses flew. As the smoky haze cleared, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were on the floor. Ron and Harry dragged them into the corridor. Ron slammed the compartment door.

“I—” Ron stammered.

“Why’d he even know?” Hermione said, “Write—”

Ron realized the truth of Hermione’s question because Arthur Weasley had taken efforts to keep the news contained. Ron got out parchment and quill, wrote a quick note. Harry held the window open for Ron to toss out Pigwidgeon. Pig tumbled in the rain before the fluttering fuzz was out of their sight. Ron got out his package of Exploding Snaps.

“Harry needs to work on his essays,” Hermione said.

“A few is alright,” Harry said.

Pop! Pop!

“Alright, alright!” Ron said to Hermione, “Suppose you’ll want me to do a strip tease or something.”

“I’ll take you up on that, later,” Hermione replied.

Harry snorted, returned to his essays, pestering Hermione as the train traveled.


“An owl?” Andy asked, entering Gia’s bedroom. Andy had her pair of panties on, with modest breasts that were still blooming.

Gia was arranging the books on the bookshelf beneath the window. Gia was naked as she was squatting, moving the books around, separating Harry’s from hers.

“Hedwig,” Gia said, “She’s Harry’s.”

Andy reached over, tugged on a feather.

Hoot! Hoot!

“Careful,” Gia said.

“He’s got a dog and an owl,” Andy said, “What else does he got?”

“He loves me, that’s enough,” Gia said.

“What school starts on a Sunday, the whole Sunday?” Andy asked.

“That is odd,” Richard said, he was wearing blue boxers, but shirtless.

“You’re odd!” Andy snapped, lunging to push Richard backward. Richard stumbled, caught himself against the door jam.

“SCRAM!” Richard barked.

“Don’t TOUCH ME THERE!” Andy complained, returning to her bedroom.

“He obviously plans to come back,” Richard said, seeing the assortment of books, “Bit weird…” He grabbed Magical Me “…it’s not moving, is it?”

“He didn’t want to take all of his books,” Gia said, “Just the ones needed for his current lessons.”

“I mean, it’s not a hologram,” Richard said, “Though it acts like one.”

“Have to ask Harry,” Gia said, while putting Magical Drafts and Potions onto the shelf, “He’ll be back tonight.”

“Reason I came in,” Richard said, “Jen’s stuck at church until late, she can’t make it, but I’ve got two tickets to Independence Day. Want to see it?”

“Oh,” Gia said, “Sounds…sure.”

“I’ll get my jacket,” Richard said.

Gia grabbed her coat, slipped her feet into the sandals, went down the stairs. Richard followed. Snuffles perked his head up, met them at the door.

“Come on boy,” Gia said to Snuffles. She chuckled, knowing full well who it was.

“Smart dog,” Richard said.

Snuffles wagged his tail as they went out the door. Rain that had been meeting the train heading north had invaded the south, and was drizzling outside. Snuffles brushed up against Gia for a moment.

“You’re sure about that?” Richard asked as they started to walk.

His eyes glanced at what Gia knew, she only had on the sandals, the jacket; her breasts exposed between the two halves of the jacket, her shaved vagina showing. Her eyes, though, could see him, who was one pair of boxers ahead, a blue that matched his closed jacket.

“Like you’re one to talk,” Gia said.

“Technically, it counts for cover,” Richard said, “I like the breeze.”

“Ever heard of a yeast infection?” Gia asked.

“Um…not really,” Richard said.

“Can happen,” Gia said, “I was worried about it at first, when Harry talked me into showing it, not a problem lately. I’m guessing it wasn’t meant to be covered up.”

They kept walking. Gia felt the rain hit her buttocks, her skin, and it felt good, though the jacket helped keep her warm as they made for the movie theater. It was a short walk. Richard stepped up to the attendant, handed the tickets over, and they went inside. Richard counted, and they entered the third room, sat down in the middle, his boxers tightened, stretched, letting the front flap part a bit, the head of his circumcised penis showing a bit, tucked inside.

“Suppose you didn’t think about popcorn or something,” Gia said.

“Only if I’m on a date with Jen,” Richard said as he stretched his legs over the backs of the seats in front of them. “Um…” His boxers had contorted with his legs, the gap had widened to let his todger roam out a bit.

Gia leaned back too, stretched her legs out, parted them a bit. She felt the urge, and having lost the shame while hanging out with Harry, went ahead and put her finger into her folds, her thumb rubbed her clitoris. Even though Richard’s eyes drifted, loitered to where she was massaging, she kept it up, and saw the pink move. She glanced at the erection, the one that Richard had yet to pay attention to, one that her mind was teasing her enough that she felt the bearing down, she sighed deeply. Richard’s glans appeared tougher, dryer, than Harry’s, but still with the little divot for the slit, the hard cock jutting outward to grab her attention.

It took another moment for Richard to notice, to realize, when he blushed pink. He moved enough to pull his jacket off, used it to clump over his crotch.

“Sorry about that,” Richard said.

“I thought you were into Jen,” Gia said.

“I am!” Richard said, “Can’t help it, you make me…you saw it. You’re more valuable as a friend, classmate, so I’ll keep it to myself.”

“That challenges you?” Gia asked.

“You are—” Richard’s eyes drifted back to her, surveyed the breasts, “Extraordinary, but I don’t want to harm you. If I do, you’ve got my permission…permission to castrate me, agreed?”

“Sure,” Gia said.

“Walk around starkers, and it’s a fact of life,” Richard said.

“Harry went through the same thing,” Gia said, “It’s fun teasing boys, you can tell the jerks from the gentlemen really quick.”

“Suppose it does,” Richard said, untying his left shoe. He removed his sock, brought it beneath the jacket covering his crotch. He adjusted the jacket, covered most of his arm.

Gia could tell what he was doing, trying to hide it. However, she figured it better to play dumb as the lights dimmed.

“At least I’ll know if this is a good movie or not,” Gia said.

“Should be…” Richard drifted off.

Gia knew what Richard’s deep breathing meant, the contorsion of the face, she had seen Harry and Ron do it countless times.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Gia said.

Richard sighed as the next trailer came across the screen. A few more motions, and Richard pulled the jacket back, the todger softened back into the boxers as he hung the sock on the next seat to dry out.

“I figured that was best,” Richard said, “Don’t know Harry well enough to cross his girl. How far away is his school anyways?”

Clouds had masked the train, turning to a solid rain as they passed from Edinburgh to Glasgow; it became heavier as they traveled north, as if the train were riding under the water of a lake.

“About time,” Hermione said, opening her trunk as they felt the train start to slow.

“Yeah,” Harry said. He closed his books, put the quill away, and opened his trunk; he grabbed his slacks. Harry dropped his blue jeans, showing the freely hanging todger.

“No underwear?” Hermione asked.

“Does it look like he’s wearing any?” Ron said, “Cool. Like the idea.”

“Madam Malkin promised some trousers that’ll let things swing freely,” Harry said, pulling his slacks up.

“Look,” Hermione said, “For the record, I did appreciate you two running around starkers all summer, it was fun, we’ll have to do it again.”

“We did, eh?” Ron asked.

“As I doubt that even you could persuade Professor Dumbledore to change the dress code,” Hermione said, “I’ll imagine that you still are.”

“Thank you,” Harry said.

“Do it again next summer?” Hermione asked.

“Sure!” Harry and Ron said in unison.

They fitted up their Hogwarts uniforms by the time the train came to a halt in Hogsmeade. They joined the crowds of students getting out.

“Firs’ years, this way,” Hagrid called out.

“Ash! Ash!” came a soft voice, a blond hair first year boy grabbing the arm of another first year boy with black hair.

Harry waved at Hagrid, and Hagrid returned the wave for a moment. Hagrid shepherded the first year students without a house down to the boats. Through the hard breeze, the rain pouring buckets, and the cold weather, they headed for the carriages. Water seeped in, evaded the best of water repellent charms, soaked into their cloaks and other clothes.

“Hi,” said Ernie Macmillan, along with Seamus Finnigan, coming toe to toe as they waited in the queue for the next carriage to pull through.

“Hey,” Ron said. Ron’s eyes, like Hermione’s and Harry’s, saw the skeletal figures pulling the carriages.

“Suppose a covered walkway would be asking too much,” Seamus said.

Seamus and Ernie climbed onto the same carriage as Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Fire beneath the leather benches lapped upward, the heat, though, was fruitless in warding off the cold and damp in their clothes.

“Might keep dry if I were to swim across the lake instead,” Seamus said, glancing at the rising lake water.

“Did you have fun this summer?” Ernie asked.

“It was…okay,” Harry said, “Nothing exciting—”

Ron spat, opened his mouth, but shut it upon Harry’s look.

“What did you—” Ernie started, before Seamus interrupted it.

“Blimey!” Seamus exclaimed, pointing.

Even though evening had already come upon them, they could all see the castle as it had been illuminated for the first years to see it. Seamus, however, was pointing toward the rubble heap, a rubble heap that was in the place of the North Tower, the ruins of the structure that Voldemort had collapsed the previous June.

“The curse was interesting,” Ron said.

“Ronald!” Hermione snapped.

“Indigo—web of magic,” Harry said, “Fascinating, actually, though the result and the caster are deplorable.”

Seamus and Ernie glared at Harry and Ron.

“You witnessed it?” Seamus stammered.

“Death Eaters galore,” Ron said.

Their carriage came to halt under a short canopy in front of the castle.

The Daily Prophet mentioned some damage,” Seamus said.

“Mostly still standing,” Harry said, climbing out of the carriage.

They went up the stairs, into the Entrance Hall. Harry loitered for a moment, as Ron and Hermione charged into the Great Hall. Harry went up the marble stairs, walked down the corridor, and knocked at Professor McGonagall’s office.

“We’ve got a feast to get to,” Professor McGonagall said, “Is it urgent?”

“There was an attack at Privet Drive this summer,” Harry said, entering the office, “My Aunt and Uncle, the Dursleys, were killed.”

“My condolences,” Professor McGonagall said.

“As they were my guardians,” Harry said, pulling out a round paper curled up, handed it over, “I took the liberty, got myself emancipated.”

Professor McGonagall opened it.

“This seems in order,” Professor McGonagall said.

“Professor,” Harry said, “I want nothing to change in regards to my Hogwarts education.”

“Realize this will mean some changes,” Professor McGonagall said, “It means you’ll be held to adult standards of behavior, expect no warnings.”

“Understood,” Harry said.

“Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Mr. Potter,” Professor McGonagall said, “Bon Appetite.”

Harry turned around, headed toward the Great Hall.

Meanwhile, Ron and Hermione took seats on the opposite sides to the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, near the back of the Hall. Hermione’s eyes darted back and forth, as she looked around.

“Where’s Harry?” Hermione asked.

“I’m guessing he went to give Moaning Myrtle a Cheering Charm,” Ron said as his stomach growled.

Hermione snorted. Professor Flitwick entered the Great Hall with a long line of fifty wet, wet, first years.

“Greetings,” Professor Flitwick said, “Please come forward as I call your name.”

Eyes to the line.

“Abbotswood, Buck,” Professor Flitwick called out.

In black fitted new robes, a brown haired boy stepped up, waited as the Sorting Hat was placed on his head.

“Gryffindor!” came the shout.

“Were we ever so nervous?” Hermione asked, her eyes watching the first years going through.

“More,” Ron said, “I’d expect.”

Name after name, boys and girls went through.

“Hurley, Ashland,” Professor Flitwick called out.

A black haired boy with blue eyes carried a small cage with a frog, robes a bit more tattered, as he sat on the stool and took the hat to his head.

“Gryffindor!” the Sorting Hat exclaimed.

Ron turned his eyes back to Hermione’s, watched her as she studied the girl being sorted into Ravenclaw.

“Langsett, Gale,” Professor Flitwick called out.

Blond hair, the boy stepped up, got the declaration of Hufflepuff.

“Where’s Harry?” Colin Creevy asked of Ron and Hermione.

“Probably trying to get an early dinner out of the kitchens,” Ron said, “Good thing cause I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving,” Hermione said.

“But I am,” Ron said.

“He’ll be along shortly,” Ginny said to Colin.

“Yeah,” Colin replied.

“You’re staring at me,” Hermione said to Ron.

“Shall I come over to your side?” Ron asked, politely.

“We’re in the Great Hall,” Hermione whispered to him.

“Alright, under the table?” Ron asked.

“It’s inappropriate,” Hermione said.

“Quidditch, inappropriate?” Ron asked.

“That’s what you were thinking about?” Hermione asked.

“What’d you think I was thinking about?” Ron replied.

“Yeaton, Presley,” called out Professor Flitwick.

A blond haired boy with a stain of green on his cheek, stepped up.

“Never mind,” Hermione said as the last of the first years left the stool, to the clapping of Hufflepuff.

Harry entered the Great Hall, walked over, sat down next to Ron. Hermione’s eyes focused on Harry’s grin.

“Where were you?” Hermione asked.

“Had to talk to McGonagall,” Harry said, “Later.”

“Feed me,” Ron said to Hermione.

Professor Dumbledore rose with grace, albeit, slowly and he took his time.

“Welcome,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Please, enjoy!”

Professor Dumbledore placed his hands to his mouth and waved them off; platters of food appeared. The food vanished at nearly the same beat as it had appeared, as it moved fast to the hundreds of plates to be shoveled rapidly into the mouths and stomachs of the hundreds of students. Harry, however, took half a biscuit and a goblet of pumpkin juice. Hermione glanced up from her salad to Harry’s plate, she frowned.

“Always a pleasure to have you.”

Out of the table came the silver shadowy figure of Sir Nicholas — some of the first years spilled their pumpkin juice at the sight of the ghosts entering.

“Hello,” Harry said, his eyebrows were arched, green eyes glared at Sir Nicolas, and his arms were folded.

“Good to see you,” Sir Nicholas said, “Unhappy, Mr. Potter?”

“He’d rather be elsewhere,” Ron said.

“Hogwarts is a grand opportunity—” Sir Nicholas said.

“It’s something else,” Ron said.

Sir Nicholas studied Harry for a moment.

“Grand sacrifice,” Sir Nicholas said.

Hermione snorted, Harry grinned. Sir Nicholas moved onto the other Gryffindors.

“Three empty seats,” Neville said.

“Three?” Ron said, counting on his fingers, “Hooch and Trelawney murdered—”

“Murdered?” Neville spat.

“Yep,” Harry said, not wanting to dredge up those memories, of the teachers killed during their last term.

“Explains the lack of Divination OWLs,” Parvati said.

“These two managed to get them.” Seamus pointed at Harry and Ron.

“How?” Dean demanded.

“It was Trelawney’s final exam,” Harry said.

Hermione rolled her eyes, said, “Bad pun Harry.”

“It’s true,” Ron said, “She gave no more after us.”

Everybody hushed as Professor Dumbledore again made his graceful and slow rise from his chair, all watched, all hushed, even the few who hadn’t already cleaned off their plates; however, the Slytherins kept up their chatter until Professor McGonagall chimed her cup..

“I have been well fed and watered … Similarly I hope that you have too … First years please note … The forest is forbidden to all students. … Mr. Filch, … our head caretaker, has … added several things to … the list of prohibited items including … several lines from Weasley … Wizarding Wheezes. … New teachers—”

Harry’s jaw dropped at the sight of their new teachers coming out of the Antechamber. Madam Pomfrey came carrying a flask to Professor Dumbledore, he drank it.

“Thank you Poppy.” Professor Dumbledore turned back to the students. “Dana Caldwell will assume the Divination Post. Nymphadora Tonks will assist Professor Lupin in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Lastly, Oliver Wood has agreed to take the post in Quidditch and he will be balancing those duties with those demanded of him at Puddlemere United.”

Professor Dumbledore sat down as the other students started to head for the doors. Harry hurried up to the Staff Table and went for Oliver Wood.

“Hi!” Harry exclaimed.

“It is good to see you Mr. Potter,” Professor Dumbledore said, slowly standing with the assistance of Madam Pomfrey.

“Still have that Firebolt?” Oliver Wood asked.

“Great for skirt chasing—” Ron said.

Hermione nudged Ron.

“Well, it is,” Ron said.

A smile crept on Professor Dumbledore’s face before he grabbed a cane. The cane shook as Professor Dumbledore bore his weight on it; the tap of the cane hitting the floor slowly echoed. Harry walked fast, leading Ron and Hermione, and followed Professor Dumbledore out of the Great Hall.

“Professor!” Harry said.

“Professor McGonagall has informed me about your new arrangement,” Professor Dumbledore said, coming to a halt, “That matter is settled.”

Harry handed over two Hogwarts pins; Professor Dumbledore tapped them with his wand, returned them to Harry. Professor Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled as the pins self–transfigured themselves into cloth patches.

“The north tower?” Harry said, “I thought it’d have been rebuilt, or at least started by now.”

“Bureaucracy is to blame,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Our esteemed planning commission is treating it as a new addition, meaning permits and an environmental impact statement. In the meanwhile, it leaks, so it has been cleared of nearly anything that could be affected by our weather. Welcome back.”

Professor Dumbledore headed along the ground floor corridor, while Harry and Oliver Wood climbed the marble stairs; Ron and Hermione followed.

“Dumbledore’s cane is new,” Harry asked, “How long has he been using it?”

“Usually in the evening, well, it’s only been a week since I arrived,” Oliver Wood said, “Can’t tell you more.”

“Will you be refereeing?” Ron asked.

“Yes,” Oliver Wood said, “It’ll be nice to see a nice tame match.”

“Tame?!” Hermione exclaimed, “Gryffindor vs Slytherin, tame?”

“You obviously haven’t seen Pro,” Oliver Wood said.

“Where do we sign up?” Ron asked.

Hermione snorted.

“The trouble of being a Professor, the work is not over after the feast,” Oliver Wood said, “Ta.”

Wood took off down the fourth floor, while Harry led the way up the stairs to the fifth floor. Harry encountered the crowd on the seventh floor outside the portrait of the Fat Lady.

“Password?” the Fat Lady asked.

“Sex,” Dean replied.

The Fat Lady did not budge.

“Aren’t you Prefect?” Ron demanded.

Harry pushed through.

“Hot tub!” Harry exclaimed.

The Fat Lady moved, the portrait swung open. Dean gaped as Harry walked through and up the stairs. Ron followed.

“Remember?” Harry said, “Dumbledore changed it before we left last year.

Ron snorted. Harry ran up the stairs to the top. Ron entered the sixth years’ boys dormitory in time to witness Harry vanishing. Behind Ron came Seamus, Dean, and Neville. Seamus looked at Harry’s empty bunk.

“He’d better—” Seamus started.

“Cut him a break,” Ron said.

“Just want to know his plans,” Dean said, “What are you gonna pull this year?”

“Don’t you understand Dean?” Seamus said, “With the Headmaster in their pocket, they are unlimited.”

“Just butt out, Okay?” Ron snapped, “Try the north tower if you’re desperate—in the meanwhile, I’m—never mind.”

Ron left the dormitory.

A few minutes earlier, Hermione had entered her dormitory, it too, being at the top of their stairs. She crossed, sat at the foot of her mattress, shuddering at the thought of the room being full of Draco Malfoy’s victims back in June. She laid back and zoned out for a bit, her thoughts drifted to that fateful day on the train many years ago when she first met Harry and Ron; they’ve been strong influences on her life, even convincing her to streak for the summer, she didn’t see that coming.


A bit of thunder in the distance brought her to realize time was passing. She got up, opened her trunk, tossed aside a pair of Ron’s boxers, before grabbing her toiletries bag. She went for the small bathroom in the dormitory. She opened the bag, the condom was on top, a spare she had packed years ago in case a boy needed to use it with her, well before she learned of the magical one. Footsteps could be heard through the door as she brushed her teeth, flossed; though she knew dental hygiene wasn’t a strong habit at Hogwarts, she was at the top of the list, likely due to her parents being dentists.

After Hermione was done, she came back into the sleeping room, naked. She tossed her Hogwarts clothes onto her bed, to where Parvati was holding up the pair of Ron’s boxers. Parvati, though, was already down to her pink brassiere and pink panties, the most they had worn in the dormitory for years; Parvati’s eyes were watching Hermione, Hermione standing there with nothing on to even cover the small breasts.

“Out of my—” Hermione demanded.

“Any action?” Parvati asked, holding the boxers forward for Lavender Brown to also examine. Lavender, with her ebony skin, had a light yellow sports bra, but naked below the waste, her shaved pussy on display as she reached to touch Ron’s boxers.

“We’re simply curious,” Lavender said.

“We’ll pin this to the common room bulletin board,” Parvati said, “Under lost and found, describing exactly where—”

Hermione ripped the boxers from Parvati’s hands, threw them into her trunk as she slammed it shut.

“She did—” Lavender said, “Likely a real witch!”

“I’ve always been a real witch!” Hermione protested, “Sex isn’t the difference!”

“How was it?” Parvati asked, her finger pushing into her panties, revealing the shape, the contours, to her vulva.

“It’s none of your business!” Hermione protested.

“Tell us your story or we’ll write our own,” Parvati said, “So, it was Malfoy—”

“Extortion!” Hermione protested.

“Where?” Lavender asked.

“We simply need to know these things,” Parvati said.

“Why?” Hermione asked.

“Are you taken or aren’t you?” Lavender said, “A good brew would help you out, but you absolutely won’t do it, so, we’re making sure you see the available talent.”

“Not Malfoy!” Hermione said.

“Alright, alright, you’re not interested in him,” Parvati said, “But, have you committed, or are you still a virgin?”

“My sexuality is my own affair!” Hermione said.

“How many affairs do you plan to have?” Lavender asked.

Hermione knew their tactics, that Parvati and Lavender won’t relent, they’d ask tomorrow, or Hogwarts will invent it’s own tale.

“Fine, I did have—” Hermione started.


They coughed, but Hermione recognized the odor, Ron’s favorite dungbomb. Lavender and Parvati went for their four poster beds. Hermione’s eyes, though, landed on the enlarged Daily Prophet picture posted on the bulletin board, a moving picture that showed her, Harry, Ron, and Gia in her parents’ hot tub. Hermione sat, tried to lay down on the bed, before she jumped after feeling someone else beneath her bed covers; she stood back up.

“Anything wrong?” Lavender asked.

“N–No,” Hermione said, “Forgot pajamas—” She could see strands of flaming red hair, knew it was Ron beneath those covers.

“What’s it really?” Parvati said, “You sleep stark naked just like the rest of us!”

“Nothing!” Hermione said, trying to change the subject, “Where’s Seamus?”

“He’s out of the loop,” Lavender said, “Though you’re right.”

Lavender wrapped a towel around her waist, covering up her pussy, and left the dormitory.

“And what about Ron?” Parvati asked, as her hands held her bed curtains closed while facing Hermione.

Hands came out of the curtains, seeking her. Parvati moved, keeping her naked body between the bed and Hermione’s, which worked for half a moment.


“Ah, a lesbian?” Hermione asked, needling Parvati.

Parvati’s bed snorted.

“Sheets are just out of—” Parvati said.

“I understand, you’re tired, just open the curtains and go to sleep,” Hermione said, “But to accuse the sheets? That’s degrading as I’m sure the House–Elves are cringing to hear—”

Snorts, as fits of laughter were being suppressed, came from Hermione’s bed covers.

“Oh–h–oh—” exclaimed Ernie Macmillan, coming fast out of Parvati’s bed. With soft and loose testicles beneath the fluffy brown pubic hair, Ernie was peeing uncontrollably as he dashed for the bathroom.

“What’d you do?” Parvati demanded while her eyes glared at Hermione.

“Nothing,” Hermione said as she shrugged.

“Me, on the other hand…” Ron said as he pulled down the covers to Hermione’s bed, baring his head and chest.

“You!” Ernie said, returning, “I suppose—” he ripped the covers off, saw Ron being naked, the curly red pubic hair with the penis fully exposed. Ernie blushed as his own penis began to enlarge fast, springing a hard, stiff, erection for them all to see.

“So you are sleeping together,” Parvati said.

“Yes,” Ron said.

“And more?” Parvati asked.

“I’ll leave you to your imagination,” Ron said, “You two go to your bed, let me and Hermione have some peace.”

Ron sat up, pulled Hermione backward onto the bed, and closed the curtains.

“You just had to—” Hermione started.

Ron rolled her over, onto her back, in the middle of the mattress; he knelt, bent his head to avoid hitting the top, parted her legs and moved her butt to rest in front of his spread legs. Ron rested his soft todger on the lips of her vulva.

“It’s not like we kept it a secret,” Ron said, “It is a boarding school, it’s expected.”

“Which is why they made rules about it,” Hermione said.

“They want us to do it,” Ron said, “I mean, we’re a small enough population as it is, we need more, and what better place to encourage it?”

“Encouraged? It’s discouraged,” Hermione said.

“How much you think’d happen if the teachers endorsed it?” Ron said, “Nothing. Nope, better this way.”

Ron plied into her thighs, his dick began to stiffen and pushed into her.

“Don’t get me expelled!” Hermione snapped.

“Right,” Ron said. His dick shimmered red as it hardened inward.

“We could find out how much of it goes on,” Hermione said, as Ron began to thrust.

Ron, though, paid more attention to drilling, and Hermione waited until he pulled out the ejaculating penis.

“How?” Ron asked.

“Simple,” Hermione said, sitting up, “Ask the House–Elfs, they’d know.”

“Guess they would,” Ron said, moving to lay next to her, “Good spot to end the day on.”

“Did Harry, you know—” Hermione asked.

“Likely banging her right now,” Ron said.

A short while earlier, Gia watched as Kurt brought the last of the boxes from her room down the stairs.

“All yours now,” Kurt said, heading for the stairs to the basement.

Gia stood there, in the living room, naked.

“I was hoping for a nice, relaxing weekend,” Kristen said, “It felt like I was working overtime.”

“Sorry,” Gia said.

“For what?” Kristen said, “I know you’re going to grieve for your father, it’s why I cut you some slack on running starkers around town.”

“Oh,” Gia said.

“You do have friends here, so it was a good decision,” Kristen said, “When’s your boyfriend supposed to show up?”

“Any time,” Gia replied.


“Give that BACK!” Richard shouted.

From the basement stairs, Andy led the way, clutching a circuit board, Richard chasing her. Richard’s shoes kept thumping as he chased the barefooted Andy; his T–shirt billowed, his boxers moved as he pursued across the living room, into the kitchen. Kristen sighed, rolled her eyes for a moment.

“Enjoy,” Gia said, heading for the stairs.

“I have to decide when to step in and when to stay out,” Kristen said.

Gia went up the stairs, opened the door and went into her bedroom; she immediately closed it, knowing that Harry should be showing up as it was already past eight. She laid on top of the bed covers, sprawled out, facing upward.


Gia glanced at Hedwig, seemingly waiting too, though they could both hear the muffled arguing and bickering from below.

“How long does it take?” Gia asked Hedwig, her eyes now focused on the ceiling.

A crash came from below.

“UPSTAIRS!” came Kristen’s shout.

Footsteps on the stairs, a moment of quiet.

Pfffpt! Pfffpt!

Rapidly, the door opened and closed; Richard came in naked, leaned back against the closed door. Richard eyes landed on Gia, fixed for a moment at the vulva that was partially open, showing a bit of the vaginal wall, and his penis quickly stiffened, his hard circumcised erection jutting outward toward her.

“Blows big time!” Richard said, “Jen’s on restriction, so I can’t go over to her place.”

“It happens,” Gia said, “Well, there is Andy—”

“Gross!” Richard exclaimed.

Gia giggled at Richard’s look of indignation.

“I need to change with Harry about to—” Gia started.

“It totally sucks!” Richard said, not realizing her tone, “Tomorrow I was going to take—”

“Harry will be along, and you’re in my room, like that,” Gia said.

“Nearly fifty quid, in advance!” Richard said, not paying attention.

Gia threw a pillow at Richard, it bounced off, as they heard Andy’s scream.

“Taking a dump in her room, totally justified,” Richard said, “I just wish Jen—”

Harry appeared directly in front of Richard, dressed in his school uniform facing Gia, except his hands had already lowered his trousers down to his knees. Harry fumbled, stumbled backward, where Richard’s hard cock dug against Harry’s butt crack. Harry tried to move forward, stumbled, tripped over Richard’s feet. Gia’s eyes went from the overdressed Harry to Richard; Richard was rubbing his eyes, blinking extensively.

“Do you mind—?” Richard said.

“Sorry,” Harry said as he stood up. He removed his shoes and trousers to leave him naked below the waist.

“How—?!” Richard stammered.

“A trick,” Gia said, trying to cover it up.

“You came out this air!” Richard said, “The laws of Physics—”

“Don’t explain everything!” Harry quipped.

“You broke them—ironclad!” Richard stated.

“Pay attention—” Gia said.

“I did!” Richard demanded, “What happened?!”

Harry sighed, walked over to Hedwig, stroked the feathers. Richard stared at Harry’s bare buttocks that were showing below the white dress–shirt, watched as Harry’s hand reached in between the cheeks to start pulling out the long handle. Gia rolled over to the side of the bed.

“I don’t want to do a Memory Charm on you,” Harry said, turning around, “So, you got to swear, absolutely swear, on your life, to never squeal to anybody about this.”


With a pull and a flick, Harry’s wand was drawn, aimed at Richard; Richard flew up into the air, landed hard onto the bed. Harry moved, knelt forward, bringing his knees to the edge of the bed, and leaned over. Harry’s bottle green eyes looked down onto Richard’s hazel eyes.

“I’m a wizard,” Harry stated, “I attend Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry—magic.”

“Alright,” Richard said, “I get it!”

“Are you alright?” Gia asked.

“Yeah,” Richard said, “This takes getting used to.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry said as he stood back up. He removed his dress shirt off, exposing his chest.

“Isn’t it like cool?” Gia asked.

“I guess,” Richard said.

Harry sat on the bed next to Gia.

“Magic’s an ability,” Gia said, “Like some people are good at, say, jumping, Harry has magic. Took me a bit to adjust to, but now I see a handsome boyfriend.” Gia put her hand on Harry’s genitals, immediately started playing with them, the erection formed fast.

“Wicked,” Richard said, “Scary too.”

Knock! Knock!

“Yes?” Gia answered.

Andy cracked the door open.

“Yo Dickhead,” Andy said to Richard, “On the pull?” She turned to Harry. “Scored a pair—”

“Bloody Ant,” Richard asked, laced with sarcasm, but standing up, “Want something?”

“Your dog is on Cody’s favorite chair,” Andy said to Harry.

“Explain it to Snuffles,” Harry replied.

“It’s just a dog!” Andy protested.

“Threaten him with Sirius Black,” Harry replied.

Gia chuckled. Richard’s eyes tried to figure out the grin on Harry’s face.

“Where is he—?” Andy asked.

Harry shrugged.

“Try it stupid dick breath—!” Richard snapped.

Andy punched Richard in the stomach, Richard gave chase, and both left the bedroom.

“Well, you came back,” Gia said, laying back.

“Yep,” Harry said.

Harry went over, closed the door, and climbed onto the bed. He squatted next to her head, buttocks to his heels, knees forward and apart; leaving her to be looking straight up at his hard erection jutting outward, testicles hanging, both trying to obscure the view of his face. His eyes focused on the foreskin retracting, leaving his pink glans to loiter, he chuckled.

“What?” Gia asked.

“Remember me being all self–conscious, exposing myself like this when we first met?” Harry said, “Man, how things change.”

“Well,” Gia said as her finger traced the edge of his glans, “Not letting you off easy.”

“That’s fine,” Harry said, leaning forward. His loose bollocks rested on her lips, the ridge of his urethrae rested on her chin, as his hands brought her feet closer, worked to massage them.

Gia was a bit confused, she thought he liked an easy score.

“It’s not just about sex,” Harry said, “It’s about us.”

She lifted his balls enough to talk.

“Been almost a week on that doctor’s prescription,” Gia said, “Think we can let it slide.”

“I’m grateful,” Harry said, his hands worked her legs, “Reminded me that there are other things.”

“Such as?” Gia asked, worried.

“Lemme try again.” His hands worked their way into her stomach, massaging inward. “Remember before we started banging? We did other things, you even stuck a hot dog up your pussy for me!”

“Yes,” Gia replied. She definitely remembered that.

“Sex’s great with you,” Harry said, “But once we started, it’s all we’re really doing. The doctor reminded us to rediscover other things.”

“What do you mean?” Gia asked, concerned.

“Varieties of happiness,” Harry said, pulling his hands away from her boobs, “We got stuck on a single flavor. So, shake things up.”

Harry moved again, forward, dragging his hard cock between their skin, and his tongue touched her left toes. Gia giggled as he licked.

“Had me worried,” Gia confessed.

“‘orry,” Harry apologized as his tongue worked across her foot, exploring.

“What are you doing?” Gia asked.

“‘icking,” Harry said, his tongue now moved to her right toes, across the nail polish, over the bunions, as he dragged his wet flesh across.

“I can feel that,” Gia said, “Why?”

“‘ot ‘aying,” Harry said, his tongue moving up her right shin.

Harry moved to the left, carried it up to the top of her left thigh before working the right.

“Missed a spot,” Gia said as she felt his tongue go around her pelvis, ignoring it, as he worked up her stomach.

“‘kay,” Harry muttered, the tongue still exploring, working around, before it landed on her naval.

“It’s enough,” Gia muttered, giggles breaking out.

“Ah,” Harry said, the tongue moved tighter around her belly button.

Fits of laughter broke out of her mouth, Harry sighed, and the tongue moved back down to feel between her legs. Every strand of stubble that she needed to shave met his tongue, and he tongue went around her clitoris. Gia saw the hard testicles nearly in her eyes but on her forehead, the ridge went right down to meet her nose; she stuck her tongue out, felt the fulcrum where the ridge met his slit.

Harry moved his tongue inward, massaging, plodding, into her walls.

“Ew…” Harry muttered, but he kept at it.

Gia teased on his hard erection, her tongue rubbed. Her nose felt the pressure, the urethrae moving his juice forward, pumping it, sending the hot sticky mess between them, but mostly getting her neck as she felt a brief attempt of herself trying to bear down, a hint at an orgasm when he stopped. He barely had time to get off her, when he promptly fell to sleep on the bed.


Gia got off the bed, stroked Hedwig’s feathers.

“Just pretend you didn’t see that, alright?” Gia asked.


Gia turned off the light, climbed onto the bed back to nearly her previous position, except she went a bit further to put her head on the remaining pillow. Her hand plied into Harry’s scrotum, his hot seed still on them both, and she let herself fall to sleep with her boyfriend.

Chapter Text

Harry and Gia woke Monday morning to a push and a prod.

“Harry,” Gia muttered.

Another push, and a shove, Harry rolled over, his eyes opened to see the dark black Snuffles nosing him. Richard hand on the door knob, while wearing just a jockstrap.

“He wanted in—badly,” Richard said.

“I would’ve have appreciated another hour—” Harry said.

Snuffles growled.

“He’s worse than Pussy Ant,” Richard said.

“Bit early,” Gia said, “Still, good habit, I suppose.”

Harry yawned.

“Tell you what, I was about to go for a run,” Richard said, “Care to join me Harry?”

“Go for it,” Gia suggested.

“Sure,” Harry said, getting up to join Richard.

Harry followed Richard down the stairs. They went out the door, stopped in front of the house on the sidewalk. With Harry naked and Richard in shoes and his jockstrap, they began to jog. Harry’s buttocks flexed, his testicles swung, his dick flopped about as he moved. Richard’s jockstrap let a bit of the bulge sway, but held it tight.

“Sorry about butting in last night,” Richard said, “Uncalled for.’

“It shouldn’t have happened,” Harry said, “Technically, I’m supposed to wipe your memory.”

“Blimey, are you serious?” Richard asked.

“Yep,” Harry said, “I won’t, I think they do more harm than good, and I think I can trust you with the secret; Gia does.”

“And you carry that stick?” Richard asked.

“It’s a wand,” Harry said, “Supposed to, because one can’t be too careful.”

“So, why haven’t I heard of this before?” Richard asked.

They paused by a trail, caught their breath.

“If you remember the witch hunts,” Harry said, bending over, “You’d understand why we’d keep it secret, keep history from repeating itself. So we don’t advertise.”

“Sorry, didn’t think of that—oh,” Richard said, eyes latched onto Harry’s soft penis.

Harry’s foreskin had already retracted, he began to pee.

“So, there are laws, I’m supposed to hide it,” Harry said, “If a Muggle—that’s you, a non–magic folk—happen to see it, I’m supposed to wipe your memory.”

“Gia?” Richard asked.

“Knows,” Harry said, “I mean, I’m dating, she’s got a right to know.”

Harry began to jog, letting the streak of wet continue as he went onto the trail.

“Yet, you’re making me feel overdressed and ready to piss without a—spell?” Richard said.

“Whole summer like this,” Harry said, shaking his penis, “I like it.”


“No hiding that either,” Richard said.

“Nope,” Harry said, “So, hadn’t seen you do this before, it’s new?”

“I want to do cross country again this year,” Richard said, “With school starting next week, figured it was best to get back into shape before tryouts.”

Richard’s jockstrap only held his genitals, his butt was free and clear, the buttocks flexing like Harry’s as they ran.

“Called me a Mug—whatever,” Richard said, “As if there was a problem with that.”

“You’re a muggle and so is Gia,” Harry said, “Some wizards are downright racist, consider us to be superior, and they despise Muggles, view them as beasts.”

They came to a busy intersection, a silver haired lady sat on the bench in the bus stop. Her eyes studied Harry’s crotch.

“You’re banging Gia,” Richard said.

“Yep,” Harry said. His penis began to elongate as the silver haired lady watched him stiffen, the erection rapidly jutted outward. “Clearly, I don’t share that view.”

The pedestrian light changed, they ran across the crosswalk.

“You don’t seem different,” Richard said, glancing over at Harry’s hard erection beneath the pubic hair, “Quite ordinary.”

“Thank you,” Harry said, “It’s what I’m going for.”

“STOP!” Richard barked.

Harry stopped with Richard.

“What?” Harry asked.

“Somethings hanging out of your butt,” Richard said.

Harry reached, felt the wood, pulled it out, his wand.

“It’s supposed to stay in there,” Harry grumbled, pushing it back in, and he felt the pain, “Ow!” He pulled it out.

“There’s more,” Richard said.

Harry felt it, the ridge of latex, and he pulled; it was the oversized condom that was put into his anus back in Brussels.

“I was just going to look for a loo,” Richard said, “But what were you planning to do?”

Harry held up the slick, brown coated condom. “Supposed to be a prison pocket, store my wand when I was running around naked.”

“I need a good bush—” Richard said, glancing around, he began to blush fast and deep.

A drip came from Richard’s bulge in his jockstrap, wet was spreading, seeping across it.

“It happens,” Harry said.

Richard, however, had let the embarrassment bind him still as he pissed his jockstrap. Harry pulled down on Richard’s elastic band, let his peeing penis out; Richard kept pouring for a moment.

“Two cups of coffee was a mistake,” Richard said, hands uncertain what to do with the jockstrap now that his penis and scrotum were showing.

“Drop them?” Harry suggested.

“Yeah,” Richard said, letting the jockstrap drop to the pavement, he stepped out of them, “Better than what you’ve got.”

“Too much to lose,” Harry said, “I’ll—” he grabbed the jockstrap, bundled it with the condom and the wand “—there.”

“Good,” Richard said.

Though their bodies, their chests, and legs were larger; eyes passing by kept checking their flailing genitals as they ran back for 26 Oak.

“So, Ron and Hermione?” Richard asked, hand on the knob of the green front door.

“Wizard and a witch,” Harry said.

“It’ll take a bit to accept,” Richard said, “But I’ll manage, and you’re still a friend.”

“Thank you,” Harry said as they went into the house.

Richard followed Harry up the stairs; Harry dropped the jockstrap, went into the bedroom, leaned over, kissed Gia, before he grabbed the Portkey and wand. Harry activated it.

Ron laid on Hermione’s four poster, head toward the foot of the bed, watched Hermione geting dressed.

“Gotta get ready,” Hermione said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ron said, grabbing her spent towel.

Ron got up, cinched the towel around his bare waist, went down the stairs of the girls’ dormitories.

“Seen Harry?” asked Colin Creevy, doing a similar run down from the fifth year girls’ dormitory.

“Shagging my sister?” Ron asked as they went down the stairs.

Colin’s hand slipped, the towel fell, showed him to be naked.

“I’m being careful!” Colin protested.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ron said.

They both went over to the other stairs and climbed those. Colin went into the fifth year boys’ while Ron went up to the sixth years’. Ron tossed the old towel to the floor, went into the small communal shower with two shower heads, stepped under one and started up the water.

“Good morning,” Harry said, getting into the other.

“Slept well?” Ron asked.

“Yep,” Harry said.

“Good,” Harry said, glanced at Ron’s buttocks, “Butt needs work.”

“Ta,” Ron said, rubbing his washcloth harder between the cheeks, “Any good sex?”

“Yep,” Harry said, “Took your suggestion, surprised her.”

“Hadn’t actually tried it myself,” Ron said.

“You should,” Harry replied.

They dressed, grabbed their book bags, and went down the stairs.

“Hi Harry,” Colin Creevy said, following as Harry and Ron left the Gryffindor Tower.

“Hello,” Harry replied.

“So you did have sex, right?” Colin asked.

“It wasn’t with you,” Ron said, wondering.

“Wasn’t meaning that,” Colin said, “I know you spent two months on the road with your girlfriend Harry, and I thought I heard that you did score—”

“It’s not about a score,” Harry said, “YES! I’ve had SEX!”

Irritated, Harry walked faster. He entered the Great Hall.

“Hey Harry,” Cho Chung said, “Is it true?”

“What?” Harry stammered.

“I mean, how was it, your first time?” Cho said, “You lost your virginity, right?”

“It’s none of anybody’s business!” Harry exclaimed.

“I heard aloe’s good,” Cho whispered.

“For what?” Harry asked.

“Um…the rash,” Cho asked.

“What rash?” Harry asked.

“I understand if you’d rather keep that to yourself,” Cho said.

Harry walked to the Gryffindor Table, went to sit down.

“Potter!” Ernie Macmillan said, “Suggest a soak in hot water and dry it clean!”


“Sorry, they’re just concerned,” Neville said, “Putting honey on your todger should help.”

“Why would I do that?” Harry said, hands gesturing as he sat down.

“You know,” Neville whispered, “The burning.”

Neville moved next to Seamus and Dean.

“Why the advice?” Harry muttered, “And honey to my dick?”

“Dunno,” Ron said while switching the plate of pancakes for his empty one. Ron smeared butter and poured on syrup.

“Gia might like it,” Hermione said.

“Thank you,” Harry said, “Sex tips for breakfast is a great idea.”

Harry grabbed a strawberry, ate it. Hermione poured cereal into her bowl, began to work at that, while Professor McGonagall came over, handed them their schedules.

“Well,” Ron said, “Hagrid first, then Defense. So, we get to spend the whole morning with Hermione.”

“What?” Hermione snapped.

“You make them interesting,” Ron said, he licked his lips as he looked at her face.

“I don’t doubt that,” Hermione snapped.

“He gave you a compliment,” Harry said, innocently, “Though he thinks that outfit’s totally unnecessary.”

“What he said,” Ron said.

Seamus got up first.

“We talked it over,” Seamus said to Harry, “Best if you saw Madam Pomfrey right away, you know, before things get worse.”

“I’m FINE!” Harry snapped.

“Delude yourself then,” Seamus said, “Good day.”

Seamus left.

“What’s going on?” Harry asked Hermione.

“Dunno, except we need to move to get to class,” Hermione said.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood up, left.

They made it to Hagrid’s Hut for their Care of Magical Creatures class. Sun peaking through the clouds, its rays cast a modest shadow across the waiting and smiling Hagrid.

“Uh–oh,” Ron whispered to Harry.

“Means it’ll be fun,” Harry replied.

Everybody else, however, had betrayed their suspicions in their looks, not–so–pleased at what Hagrid likely had planed, including Malfoy. It took a moment for Harry to see that there was a bit of a gap, as people like Seamus had drawn away, giving more of a wide berth to Harry than to Hagrid.

“Now,” Hagrid said, “yeh should open up your books.”

“How?” Draco Malfoy said, “It burns when we try.”

Harry, through, reached into his book bag, pulled out his Sizzling Book of Dragons , opened it, and shot Malfoy a grin — Malfoy returned with a glare of mad rictus of rage at Harry. Except for Ron and Hermione, both of whom had their books out, the rest of them were soaking in bags of water. Hagrid beamed at Harry.

“Seems that arry figured it out,” Hagrid said.

“With third degree burns no doubt,” Malfoy snapped.

“Aloe is good for burns,” Padma Patil said.

“Not that type of burning,” Neville said, “Honey, Harry, Honey!”

“To open it,” Harry said, trying to derail the other topic, “Just stun it!”

“Should’ve known,” Malfoy said, with sarcasm, “Stunning—!”

“Just like you do to your bitch,” Theodore Nott said.

“Stunnin’s s’mething ever’ proper Wizard should know,” Hagrid said.

Harry and Ron stifled their laughs, Hermione mimicked a camera, all three were memorizing Malfoy’s look of horror.

“Most important magical creature is the dragon,” Hagrid said, “Which is why we’re going teh spend the entire year studying them. If lucky, I might be able teh get some as class projects.”

“Doubt Dumbledore knows,” Ron whispered to Harry. Harry snickered.

“What’s so funny Ron?” Hagrid asked.

“When are we getting them?” Ron asked, saving himself, “Eggs, Hatch–lings, or fully grown?”

Malfoy returned his glare at Ron.

“Not next week,” Hagrid said, “Eggs’d be best; Hatchlings though may ‘ave teh do.”

Hagrid lectured on the basics of dragons and their magic. At the end, the class returned to the castle.

“That Oaf teaching about dragons!” Malfoy complained, “Doubt he’s ever raised one.”

Harry and Ron remained silent as Malfoy went down the ground floor corridor; instead, they went up the marble stairs, Hermione and Neville behind them. Harry went into the boys’ bathroom, Neville followed. Harry immediately opened his fly, let the penis hang free; even with Madam Malkin’s alteration, there was no substitute for the real thing, to let the penis swing, even if it were only a handful of paces to the wall urinal. Harry gripped his penis, aimed.

“Use this,” Neville said, handing over a bottle of honey, “Smear all over.”

“Why?” Harry asked, grabbing the bottle.

“You know, the burning,” Neville said.

“What burning?” Harry asked.

“When you pee,” Neville said.

“You use this?” Harry asked.

“No,” Neville replied.

“Why should I smear this on your dick?” Harry asked.

“Your dick,” Neville said.

“Are you planning to suck my dick?” Harry asked, handing the bottle back to Neville.

“No,” Neville replied.

“Watch!” Harry said.

Neville’s eyes followed, watched as Harry gripped the dick, pissed against the metal wall, the stream collecting in the trough below.

“That doesn’t hurt?” Neville asked.

“No!” Harry exclaimed.

Harry went over to the sink, washed his hands.

“Maybe the symptom has yet to occur,” Neville said, “It will.”

Harry restored his trousers, left the bathroom. They came to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, where Professor Lupin pulled Harry aside.

“I’m telling you this so you give her your best of respect, understood?” Professor Lupin said, “Nymphadora Tonks was brought in specifically to teach you. This subject is too important for you, so we’re not going to skimp. First, she is new blood, you need that, as we all have our bias, our strengths, and our weaknesses. Second, it’ll avoid the usual unpleasantness during my monthly…ritual. However, don’t think I’m unavailable, I’ll still be around, if you need a second opinion, that sort.”

Harry took a moment. “Thank you,” Harry said.

“Don’t be late,” Professor Lupin said.

Harry went to the classroom, entered, as Professor Tonks was reading roll call.

“Got your heat pad Potter?” Seamus asked.

“Ignore them,” Ron said, “They seem to think you’ve got something.”

“Thanks Ron,” Harry said, sarcastically, “I don’t think I could’ve worked that out for myself.”

Harry couldn’t tell what he was being accused of having, though based on Neville’s insistence, Harry reasoned he didn’t want to know, except that it involved a painful rash and, apparently, a burning sensation when pissing.

“Please pay attention,” Professor Tonks said, “You must be Harry Potter.”

“That’s me,” Harry said.

“I knew your parents,” Tonks said, “I still miss them.”

Harry remained quiet, studied the expression on Tonks face as she finished the roll call.

“In previous years, you studied about the Unforgivables,” Tonks said, “This year, we start by learning to actually cast them; it’s not the only thing as there will be more, but we’ll cover that when we reach the material.”

“Spiders?” Ron asked.

“Here, line up,” Professor Tonks said, “We’ll just go against the wall today.”

They lined up against the other wall, facing the first.

“Are we really—?” Hermione started.

“Cruciatus Curse,” Professor Tonks said, “Neville.”

“No,” Neville said, sitting down, “I’m not doing it.”

“Me neither,” Harry said, sitting down next to Neville.

“Thanks,” Neville said.

“Mr. Longbottom, Mr. Potter!” Professor Tonks exclaimed.

“I will sit this one out,” Harry said, “I will not cast it.”

“Then you will lose five points each,” Professor Tonks said, “Do not interrupt.”

“Sitting on a breakout is painful!” Seamus advised.

“Mind if we’re in your office instead?” Harry asked.

Neville and Harry went up the steps, into the office. Inside, pictures hung on the wall, Harry recognized one with a crowd, and some of the familiar faces on it.

“My parents,” Harry said, pointing, “Lily and James Potter. I see Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.”

“Mine,” Neville said, “Until Bellatrix Lestrange…”

“Cruciatus,” Harry said, “I know.”

“You do?” Neville said, “No you don’t, not how they were tortured, and are in St. Mungo’s ever since, that my Grandmother’s raised me as long as I can remember?”

“I mean, of it,” Harry said, “And only enough to understand why you couldn’t do that lesson, same as me, except you still have parents that you can visit.”

“They do not recognize me,” Neville said.

A door opened, behind them.

“I think they do, part of them has to,” Harry said.

“Gran tries convincing me of the same,” Neville said.

“You see all the folks in that picture?” Professor Tonks asked.

“Yeah,” Neville said.

“They fought You–Know–Who before you were even conceived,” Professor Tonks said, “All honorable, and I’m proud to have been at their sides. I could even be the reason that you were even born, Harry.”

“That’s my parents’ doing,” Harry said.

“They were on assignment, for months, away from each other,” Professor Tonks said, “Death Eaters at our heals, but your mother wanted to celebrate Halloween, thought we shouldn’t abandon traditions. Sirius and Remus cooked up this plan, wanted to give them a gift—we gave it to them. We patrolled outside the small hut while James and Lily celebrated the night away; I think it involved a bottle of Firewhiskey, with no condoms on hand. She was pregnant shortly thereafter, with you.”

“Oh,” Harry said.

“She was understandably worried,” Professor Tonks said, “Pregnant and on the run in this line of work is a very difficult lifestyle. Molly Weasley gave some sage advice, and Lily was proud of her first born son, wanted more.”

“She didn’t get the chance,” Harry said.

“I was there the first time she had to change your nappy,” Professor Tonks said, “Know that your first shit was green?”

“Like my eyes?” Harry asked.

“Deeper green,” Professor Tonks said, “My point is, I understand your history, so I understand why you might be hesitant to cast the curses, but you need to learn them.”

“Doubt it,” Harry said.

“I had to kill two while protecting your parents as they conceived you,” Professor Tonks said, “Death Eaters like dealing death, but they don’t like theirs being delivered.”

“Think I can imagine why,” Neville said.

“As makeup for skipping,” Professor Tonks said, “I want an essay, at least a whole roll of parchment, on why you might need to use an Unforgivable, techniques to get yourself to be able to cast one, and how to deal with the aftermath. Interviews with at least three people, at least one that has, and one that had reason to but didn’t cast one; include your perspectives on whether you felt it was justified or not. I do not count as a subject. Your essay and interview notes are due by Friday’s class. Understood?”

“Yes,” Neville said.

“Guess so,” Harry said.

“You, especially you Harry Potter, must be prepared for what is to come,” Professor Tonks said, “Class is nearly over, so best to get moving.”

Harry and Neville left the office via the back door, entered the corridor.

“Thank you for sticking up for me,” Neville said, “Always good to do it with a friend.”

“Yep,” Harry said.

They headed to Charms.

Later, they left the Charms classroom.

“Don’t mind my asking,” Seamus said to Harry, “How’d you get your stiffy into your girl if its covered in warts?”

“Dunno,” Harry said, “Never had to.”

“I mean, you’ve got experience,” Seamus said.

“My todger’s not covered in warts!” Harry said, “Need to see?”

“No,” Seamus said, “Of course not.”

“Keep talking and we’ll have to check yours out,” Harry grumbled.

Seamus moved ahead, caught up with Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch–Fletchley.

“It’s not so bad,” Ron said.

“Why is my sex life the only thing this castle can talk about?” Harry asked.

“Give it a break,” Ron said, “Just the first day, tomorrow, it’ll be something else.”

“Don’t think about it,” Hermione said.

They walked by the school armor, all of them were touching themselves inappropriately while blowing out wads of gum.

“Keep up the good work Peeves,” Harry said.

“Yeah!” Ron said.

They entered the Great Hall where Hermione took delivery of The Daily Prophet . She looked it over as she sat down; Ron watched her fingers ruffling the paper. Harry, however, grabbed the paper, read it.

Monday, 2 September, 1996

The Daily Prophet

Victor Fallerschain New Minister of Magic

In a ceremony this morning, Victor Fallerschain was formally installed as Minister of Magic. Victor Fallerschain. He immediately gave his inaugural speech.

“Today marks a bold new era for the Ministry and the Wizarding community. Under my reign, the Ministry will devote itself to empower ever Wizard and Witch to overcome their challenges in life. Like them, the Ministry faces challenges. Under my predecessor, expenses increased which forced taxes to be raised no less than fifty eight times.

“Under my reign, processes will be streamlined, expenses will be trimmed, burdens will be lifted, and greater security will be had for all. These are among the many improvements that I am committed to bring to the Ministry.

“Now, my first official act as Minister of Magic will be to address a serious concern among my fellow Wizards and Witches. This concerns the threatening encroachment on Diagon Alley from undue influences. As my first act, I hereby ban all further Dark Arts shops from opening on Diagon Alley. The existing one, Fun and Power , will remove itself at the end of its current lease in two years.

“I look forward to changing each of your lives in the future. In this pursuit, I have reluctantly accepted an appointment to the vacancy on the board of governors for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry . I hope that my presence will leave a permanent mark on the children of our future. Good day.”

This indeed marks a new era of the Ministry. Even as an opposition leader, Victor Fallerschain held the respect of those serving under them.

Fallerschain’s Executive Assistant, Percy Weasley, commented, “The Ministry benefits have not been wasted on him and he has proven to be one of the Ministry’s larger investments. He is willing to take risks. I find that his core values show through in his work. His full capabilities have only been recently discovered. The quality of his work is well known. Mr. Fallerschain is not afraid to ask questions that check the assumptions of others and he appears ever productive and has been seen dropping in at off hours.”

“Well, he’s in,” Harry asked, “Wonder what he’ll do differently?”

“Probably what they always do after promises of reforms,” Ron said, “Fire the department heads, bring in new blood, and stifle hopes of promotions; either that or a Chinese fire drill. Dad’s hoping his two person office is small enough to avoid real scrutiny. If anything, he needs more people like he’s been requesting for years under Fudge.”

Ginny entered the Great Hall, came over.

“Is it true?” Ginny asked, “Does Harry actually have Herpes?”

“That’s the disease?” Harry stammered.

“Wish you could’ve warned me!” Ginny snapped.

“Hey!” Harry barked.

Ginny, however, went over, sat with Colin.

“Sorry Dude,” Ron said, “Should tell Gia.”

“I don’t HAVE it!” Harry snapped.

“I overheard it in the girls’ lavatory,” Hermione said, “Should I list all the other possibilities?”

“No!” Harry said.

“Check him yourself if that’d help,” Ron said to Hermione.

“An exam is out of the question,” Harry said, putting plate aside.

“I recommend extra fluid intake Mr. Potter,” Professor McGonagall said as she passed up on the way to the Staff Table.

“I don’t have…” Harry put his head down onto the table.

“Look on the bright side,” Ron said, “All these people interested in your body.”

“You’re not helping Ron,” Harry said as he stood up, “See you in Transfiguration.”

As Harry crossed the Entrance Hall, Madam Pomfrey came from up the stairs.

“There you are Mr. Potter,” Madam Pomfrey said, “You were supposed to see me this morning, come with me.”

Other students nearby gossiped as Harry was led up the stairs and into the Hospital Wing.

“I feel perfectly fine!” Harry protested.

“That is for me to determine,” Madam Pomfrey said, pointing, “Behind that screen and get undressed.”

“I don’t have to,” Harry said.

“Your health is my responsibility so long as you’re a student of Hogwarts,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Harry went behind the screen that surrounded a bed.

“Faster,” Madam Pomfrey said, coming in, “You could’ve died in the hands of those muggles last week.”

“I survived,” Harry said, pulling his shirt off.

“And have some pumpkin juice,” Madam Pomfrey said, handing over a flask.

Harry drank from it.

“Not everything is a potion around here,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Keep drinking.”

Harry drank as his trousers fell. He stepped out, stood there, naked. Her eyes surveyed him, from his bottle green eyes, down the smooth chest, to the penis dangling beneath his pubic hair. She reached, lifted his bollocks.

“Hey!” Harry exclaimed.

“I don’t see the rash,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“That stupid gossip?” Harry said, “It’s dirty lies!”

“I hear the rumor and so I’m obligated to act,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Lay down.”

Harry laid on the bed, facing upward.

“You know better, the other side,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Harry turned to face down, his butt in the air, anticipating the next sensation, and he felt it. Cold glass wove into his anus as she pushed in the rectal thermometer.

“Muggles use the mouth,” Harry said.

“Less accurate,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Harry’s butt apparently knew the proper response, as he felt the gas pressure build up.


The rectal thermometer shot out of his butt, over the curtains.


“Mr. Potter!” Madam Pomfrey said.

“Treating me like an infant,” Harry complained.

“This is a full examination,” Madam Pomfrey said, “You can make this go a lot easier on yourself.”

Harry felt the muscles clench as she muttered, heard, smelled himself begin to defecate.

“Why?” Harry muttered.

“Samples,” Madam Pomfrey said.

She rested a tray on the stand, one filled with his brown sludge, and a washcloth cleaned his anus; again, a glass thermometer went in.

“This time, relax,” Madam Pomfrey said.

She held it in for a minute, removed it.

“Stand back up,” she said.

Harry stood, his dick was now stiff, the hard erection jutted forward. She held his hard cock with one hand, retracted his foreskin, inspected. She brought her wand to his shaft, muttered. A tray levitated in front as Harry felt the spasm, began to ejaculate.

“That’s private!” Harry seethed.

“If you had every disease that I’ve heard today, you’d be dead,” Madam Pomfrey said, “However, I must check, and yes, it can be in this.”

She brought a special spectacle to her eye, brought it to an inch of his glans, looked down the sides of the shaft before spreading his cum filled slit open. She pulled back, felt into his scrotum.

“I could’ve just tossed off myself!” Harry said.

“That’s simply inappropriate for a young man to do!” Madam Pomfrey said.

Harry felt the pressure in his bladder and pushed. His jet came online, power washing outward, it caught a bit on her blouse.

“Mr. Potter!” she exclaimed, quickly moving the jar to catch his stream, “Keep it up.”

“Need me to puke?” Harry asked.

“Need to?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“No,” Harry said.

“Diseases collect in your bodily secretions,” Madam Pomfrey said, “This—” she held up the tray with his white semen “—is the best measure of your sexual health, while your urine is good for a number of maladies including infection or imbalances. I will have to collect again, tonight, after dinner for a second evaluation.”

“Not again,” Harry said.

“Now for the standard exam,” Madam Pomfrey said, waving her wand, “Faster, less intrusive, but not as good as old fashioned samples.”

“Wonder which one has it worse?” Ron asked from outside the screen, hearing the noises and protests from within.

“You may get dressed now,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Harry had his trousers and shoes on when he left the privacy of the screen.

“Nice seeing you,” Hermione said.

Harry left his shirt untucked as he put it on. He grabbed his bookbag, left the Hospital Wing.

“So it’s true!” Malfoy said, “Can’t be the sex.”

“At least I’m capable of doing it properly!” Harry said, “You’re going in for an afternoon stiffy?”

“Give him a break,” Ron said, “He needs help wanking—”

“You’ll pay.” Malfoy spat at them.

Malfoy went down the stairs, while Harry, Ron, and Hermione went for their next classroom.

“They’re all getting out of the way,” Harry said, noticing group after group of students either avoiding or moving to other side of the corridor, ducking into empty classrooms.

“Rumor is you’re contagious,” Hermione said, “Highly contagious.”

Harry landed in Gia’s bedroom that evening. Harry was already naked, clothes in hand, and he dropped them to the floor. Harry went out of the empty bedroom, down the steps, before going back up. He glanced through Richard’s open door, saw the commotion on the roof deck, so he went through. Richard, Jen, and Gia were lounging naked in the hot tub, Snuffles laid on the deck beneath.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” Harry said, slipping into the water, sitting on Gia’s lap.

Harry felt her breasts cushioning his back while her hands worked his thighs.

“Tough day?” Richard asked.

“Might say that, mind if I had Gia to myself?” Harry asked.

Richard and Jen got out, went into his bedroom, closed the door.

“That bad?” Gia asked.

“Bloody hell!” Harry grumbled, “Some jackass decided it’d be a great idea to make them all believe I have Herpes!”

Gia pushed Harry off of her.

“I got checked, twice!” Harry said, “I’m not telling you about it, only that I’d rather it be you examining me! I’m clean, by the way.”

“It’s only the first day,” Gia said.

“I know!” Harry said, “Hoping tomorrow’s better. Though, there was an interesting suggestion.”

“What’s that?” Gia asked.

“Honey on my dick,” Harry said, “Interested?”

“Maybe,” Gia said.

“Disproven, not a good remedy,” Harry said, “Except it’d do good for our moods, wanna give it a try?”

“Maybe not,” Gia said, “Maybe later.”

“Oh?” Harry asked.

“It’d be messy,” Gia said.

“My dick’s a messy sort anyways,” Harry said.

“You’re not stiff,” Gia said, her foot feeling his crotch, his soft dick in the middle.

“Had to squirt it, twice, for exams,” Harry said, “It’s spent.”

Harry moved over, straddled her legs as he sat on her knees. He massaged into her chest, held her breasts.

“Thought you were—” Gia started.

“I’d rather be soft with you than anywhere else,” Harry said.

Harry’s hands began to explore.

“So where is this school of Harry’s?” Richard asked Gia, they were in the dining room Tuesday afternoon. Gia was running a bit of charcoal onto the canvas laying in front of her, tracing a likeness of Richard’s face as she had already captured the bare chest above the table line.

Snuffles began to growl.

“Scotland,” Gia said.

“And he travels that far everyday?” Richard asked.

“To him, it’s nothing,” Gia said, “The trip isn’t very long; about as much time as it takes for him to strip naked, which, of course, I like.”


“I think that was intended for you,” Richard said.

“A bit secretive,” Gia said, “Naturally gets upset.”

“Is it my imagination or does Snuffles actually understand the conversation?” Richard asked.

“Probably your imagination,” Harry said, entering the dining room. He was naked, as per usual around there, though he had his school bookbag to his side, strap over the shoulder.

Harry made no effort to conceal, since he felt at ease with this crowd. Instead, his eyes surveyed her breasts as Gia was naked on the chair, his dick began to sprout.

“Bit early,” Gia said.

Harry’s fresh erection swayed as he walked over to her.

“Dinner? I can do that here,” Harry said as he sat down next to her, his testicles hung over the edge of the chair.

“Your dog!” Richard snapped as he got up. He was wearing just a pair of green and blue plaid boxers.

“Quite intelligent,” Harry said, “I’d do as he wants if I were you.”

Richard left the dining room. Snuffles closed that door, walked past Harry and Gia to close the kitchen door, before going around to the other side. Sirius loomed as he stood up.

“Richard is asking questions as if he knows about magic,” Sirius said to Harry.

“He does,” Harry replied.

“How?” Sirius asked.

“He was in the bedroom Sunday,” Harry said, standing back up, his erection still jutting forward from beneath the dark pubic hair, “You know, when I showed up.”

“He was hiding from Andy,” Gia said, “Wouldn’t leave.”

“And you didn’t solve it right?” Sirius asked.

“A Memory Charm?” Harry stammered, “I’m not harming Richard!”

“A Memory Charm does no lasting damage,” Sirius said.

“Gilderoy Lockhart had to pay a shit ton of money and he’s still not right in the noggin,” Harry said, “Harmless Memory Charm—my arse! Just because they can walk and talk doesn’t mean it was harmless, otherwise, a lobotomy is harmless!”

“What’s a lobotomy?” Sirius asked.

“Muggle procedure,” Harry said.

“Surgery to cut into the brain,” Gia said, her fingers curled around Harry’s hard cock, “Ruins their personality.”

“Madam Pomfrey’s set on destroying my sex life,” Harry said, “Three times today!”

“Oh,” Gia said.

“Play with it,” Harry said, “With honey if you want.”

“Muggles submit to this?” Sirius said, “Obviously they’ll tolerate Memory Charms.”

“It’s not like they give the choice to the patient!” Harry said, “It’ll be done for their greater good or whatever bullshit. It’s still an injury. Richard’s very kind to us, I’m not touching him. I decided that trust was better medicine.”

“He’s already helped cover up,” Gia said.

“Some of the biggest breaches began this way,” Sirius said.

“What about the fucking Hospital?” Harry said, “Or Privet Drive? Death Eaters are the bigger threat to that.”

“That’s not been proven,” Sirius said.

“Or disproven,” Harry said.

“Understand the legal risk you’re accepting,” Sirius said, “If a breach is traced back to you, you’re in trouble, and don’t count on Albus Dumbledore getting you out of trouble.”

“He wouldn’t let me fry,” Harry said.

“He’s not invincible nor infallible,” Sirius said, “And why is Madam Pomfrey giving you so many exams?”

“Long story,” Harry said, “I’m tired of going over it, but hey, while you’re here—” He put his school bag onto the table, got out a roll of parchment and a quill “—I need to ask you some questions. Mind?”

Harry sat down, Sirius sat down on the other side.

“What’s going on?” Sirius asked.

“School essay that Professor Tonks wants on the Unforgivables,” Harry said, “I need to interview people, and, well, figured you might have a thing or two to say.”

“I’ll be surveying the honey,” Gia said, getting up.

“You do that,” Harry said.

Gia left, went into the kitchen.

“Honey?” Sirius asked.

“Free sex tip from school,” Harry said, “Thought we’d try it. Now, have you ever performed an Unforgivable?”

“Apart from training on spiders, no,” Sirius said, “I understand you’re having the same difficulties that any true Gryffindor would have, and your personal history with one.”

“Yeah, hence the essay,” Harry said, “They think I should be able to.”

“What do you plan to use if you’re confronting You–Know–Who, a patronus?” Sirius said, “There is a time and a place for them. They’re called Unforgivables because of the tendency to overuse them by particular types of individuals.”

Harry dipped his quill into the ink jar, wrote this down.

“What is the closest you’ve come to casting one?” Harry asked, “On whom? And why?”

“Right after your parents died,” Sirius said, “I was about to curse Peter Pettigrew, except he beat me to the punch, and you know the story.”

Gia, meanwhile, had returned to her bedroom, where a very dressed Ron was there, putting a couple of owl treats into Hedwig’s dish.

“Hi,” Gia said.

Ron closed the bedroom door.

“Harry’s—where?” Ron asked.

“Downstairs interviewing Sirius,” Gia said, “Sirius would let you interview him too.”

“I don’t have to do that essay,” Ron said, “No, I didn’t want him eavesdropping.”

“What’s up?” Gia asked.

“He’s undoubtedly complained about the examinations he’s been getting, yesterday and today,” Ron said.

“He’s been having to orgasm for it?” Gia said, “What’s wrong with him?”

“Rumors take on a life of their own,” Ron said.

“Him with Herpes?” Gia asked.

“And others,” Ron said, “Regulations are such that Madam Pomfrey is required to give him an examination, and of course, the fact that he gets examined just reinforces the rumors, and it repeats. Even Madam Pomfrey admits its a waste of her time and Harry’s patience, but she’s obligated to check, again, and again, and again.”

“Somebody suggested honey on his dick?” Gia asked.

“Yep,” Ron said, “However, honey could be a good idea, because for all the exams, Madam Pomfrey wants me and Hermione to start pestering him into eating more; he’s underweight, significantly.”

“Dr. Patrick mentioned it,” Gia said, “But how is honey on his dick going to help?”

“Not on him, but on you,” Ron said, “I mean, remember the hot dog? Turn yourself into a buffet when you two, you know, have sex. It’s either that or Madam Pomfrey has some potions she can give, but we know how Harry likes those. Up to it?”

“Of course,” Gia said.

Ron tapped his Portkey with his wand, vanished.

Gia, of course, could remember, that time back in the spring, when Harry was eager to eat the hot dog that she had stored inside her vagina; the nerves before learning of his verdict. Perhaps this was the time to test his statements about wanting more varieties to their sexual lives.

Gia went back down, to the kitchen, where she opened the refrigerator. An assortment was there, and she took a few moments to work out what to grab. She put some roast beef slices onto a plate, along with a pickle, onion slices, cheese slices, and a bit more. She grabbed the mustard bottle, the relish, and the mayonnaise. Piling it onto the plate, she grabbed a loaf of bread, went for the dining room.

“We were nearly finished,” Sirius said.

“Thank you,” Harry said, “I might ask a question or two later.”

“Any time,” Sirius said.

Sirius hunched over, transformed. Snuffles left the dining room.

“Fixing yourself a bite to eat?” Harry asked.

“You might say that,” Gia said as she sat on the table, right in front of him, her butt pushed his parchment out of the way, “Stand up.”

Harry stood up.

“Oh,” Gia said, her eyes on his soft penis, “Need that up.”

“Make it so,” Harry replied.

Gia reached over, retracted his foreskin, teased right beneath the slit, the glans, and it enlarged. She tickled his scrotum, and the erection grew faster.

“I told you, Madam Pomfrey already drained me today,” Harry said.

“It’s still useful,” Gia said, taking a thin slice of roast beef into her hands. She wrapped it tightly around the circumference of Harry’s hard cock.

“Ain’t a condom,” Harry said.

“Test the fit,” Gia said.

Harry blushed, brought his glans to her vulva, pushed it inward. He sought to calm himself, kissed her neck. A push and a pull, he brought it out; the slice of roast beef was well torn, ready to fall apart.

“Like I said, not a great condom,” Harry said, “It won’t even protect you if I squirt.”

Gia, however, took the shards of the slice, put them onto a slice of bread. She grinned.

“Oh!” Harry said.

“You said you wanted to try something new,” Gia said.

“Sure,” Harry replied.

Gia brought over a slice of cheese.

“That won’t hold up,” Harry said.

Gia did place it against her labia, pushed until her clitoris made an indentation into it, put the slice onto the bread.

“Here,” Harry said, handing her a pickle, “So, whatchya putting on it?”

Gia threaded the pickle into her folds, pushed inward until it was halfway in, halfway out.

“Turning you on?” Gia asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said.

Gia applied some mayonnaise, some mustard, to the bread, closed it off, and handed it to Harry.

“Try it,” Gia said.

Harry bit in.

“Flavorful,” Harry said.

Gia laid back onto the table, let her pussy be aimed at Harry’s face. Richard came in.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Richard said.

“It’s alright, stay, if you want,” Gia said.

“No, no,” Richard left.

“Mr. Pickle needs action too,” Gia said to Harry.

“I’m eating,” Harry said, working the sandwich down.

Gia felt a bit sleazy, using sex to trick him into eating, but at least it was working, it caught his interest. She grabbed the honey bottle.

“Why’d they suggest honey?” Gia asked.

“Supposed to cure a penis that burns as you piss,” Harry said, now working the pickle, pushing it inward and pulling, to mimic his cock.

“Ouch, feel sorry for you,” Gia said.

“I don’t have that problem,” Harry said, “But it’s a common symptom to everything I’m rumored to have, and you’re more than welcome to spread the honey.”

“Sure,” Gia said. She grabbed the bottle, poured it around the pickle, drenching her clitoris in the sticky yellow stuff.

“How are you going to clean that?” Harry asked.

“That’s your job,” Gia said.

“Oh!” Harry said, “You’re being the devil.”

Harry leaned in, his tongue licked as he kept moving the pickle.

“Can I see your—?” Gia started.

Harry paused enough to climb onto the table. He straddled her head, letting his scrotum hanging above her, the hard cock aimed downward as he leaned back over. He brought his tongue back to her clitoris, resumed licking and moved the pickle. Her hands reached up, held the marshmallow like lumps hanging freely above her. She touched the fulcrum beneath his penis tip, a bit of clear liquid drained out.

“Like I said, spent,” Harry said, “It’ll be good so long as the rumors die out.”

Gia trembled for a moment as she felt it begin with his pushing and licking; her fingers felt into his sack, as her clarity changed, and for a few moments, all imperfections that she could see were gone, his balls were flawless and were for her.

“How long?” Gia asked.

“Somebody’s gotta have wet their trousers by now or done something of interest,” Harry said, “Rumors will be gone in no time.”

“Come on Potter!” Seamus said days later while pushing Harry into the Hospital Wing Friday afternoon, “Gotta make sure!”

“Oh, it’s you,” Madam Pomfrey said to Harry, “You’re fine.”

“No he’s not!” Seamus said, “Dean had extreme discomfort in Potions, I got it too, so I’m seeing to this myself.”

“I’ve already checked him a dozen times,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“We share a dormitory,” Seamus said, “Could be anything!”

“Step behind the curtain,” Madam Pomfrey said to Harry.

“No,” Harry said, “We’ll do this here, just so they’re satisfied that I’m clean!”

Harry pulled his shirt, showed the bare chest, before dropping his trousers.

“No underwear?” Seamus said, seeing Harry’s long todger hanging there.

Harry glanced at the people out in the corridor.

“Nope,” Harry said.

“This isn’t right,” Hermione said as she and Ron entered.

“Are you sure about this Mr. Potter?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

Ernie Macmillan, Neville Longbottom, entered, joined in with Dean Thomas. Parvati and Padma Patil ushered themselves in, though, they won’t be the last to join in.

“I am clean!” Harry said, “So, lets go over it again, and they watch as I have to give a stool sample!”

“If you’re interested in Healing, we can setup a class,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Harry, however, turned around, mooned his classmates as he bent over. They all watched as the glass bulb to the thermometer went into his anus.

“Seamus, hold the tray,” Harry said.

Seamus came forward, held the glass tray as Madam Pomfrey indicated, right below Harry. After she removed the thermometer, Harry’s bowels moved, depositing the light brown sludge into Seamus’ hands.

“Ew,” Seamus said.

“What’s his temperature Mr. Finnigan?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“Thirty seven point one,” Seamus said, reading the thermometer.

“Your patient just gave a stool sample, common courtesy means this,” Madam Pomfrey handed him a wet washcloth, “Clean it.”

Seamus grimaced as he wiped Harry’s anus.

“You’re now an asswipe,” Harry said as he turned around.

“Now you get to examine the sample,” Madam Pomfrey said, “What do you see?”

Harry grabbed a comb, worked at a couple of knots in his pubic hair, Ginny watched this while Colin Creevy pulled out his camera.

“It’s brown,” Seamus said.

“This is fat,” she said, pointing to the nodules, “However, you’re interested in—” she handed him the spectacle “—in your eye.”

Seamus put this into his eye, it held on.

“What the fuck?” Seamus said.

“What do you see moving?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

Seamus took a moment.

“I’m skipping dinner,” Seamus said, some chuckles came from the audience, “Can’t find it, what color am I looking for?”

“All colors,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Seamus shook his head.

“So, no parasites in there?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“I guess not,” Seamus said.

“Now, check his skin, thoroughly,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Seamus patted on Harry’s shoulders.

“Don’t forget my dick,” Harry said.

“Of course you’d like that,” Seamus said.

“You’re the one interested in my health!” Harry exclaimed.

“Look for anything unusual,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Ignore his scar, that’s old news.”

“Search his dick,” Ginny said.

Seamus frowned as he knelt, checking behind the knees first.

“Symptoms can be anywhere, of course,” Madam Pomfrey said, “However, soft tissues see it the most, especially around the privates.”

“Hold this,” Harry said, handing a jar to Seamus. Harry had done enough examinations that week to know the function of each jar.

“What’s this for?” Seamus asked.

“To the side, so they can see,” Harry said, “Need to take a leak.”

“What?” Seamus stammered.

Harry, though, had already retracted his foreskin, his glans visible to his school mates, as he relaxed, let the yellow pour out; the jar began to fill up. Seamus curled his nose.

“Ew,” Seamus said.

Harry caught the glimpse from Cho Chung.

“Do you see a rash?” Harry asked, his dick still peeing, “It feels fine! No honey required!”

Harry’s stream petered out.

“Now, look at it,” Madam Pomfrey said to Seamus.

“It’s piss,” Seamus said, “Warm piss!”

Madam Pomfrey took the sample.

“It ain’t over,” Harry said to Seamus as Seamus glanced at the door, “You get to handle my dick, get the third sample, no charms.”

“Really?” Seamus asked, “Should I ask what the third—?”

“You already know,” Harry said.

“I do collect it for some examinations, especially in light of the accusations,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“You’ve been accusing me,” Harry said to Seamus, “You collect it, be satisfied that it is indeed mine. I just ask you be gentile, treat it better than you treat your own.”

Harry felt the gamut of emotions as Seamus began the process of teasing Harry’s soft penis. It was an embarrassing, explicit, peep show, and he was at the center of it with Seamus now having to play with Harry’s soft dick. Seamus worked the testicles.

“Pick a girl, imagine her naked,” Seamus instructed.

Part of Harry wanted to be obstinate, make Seamus really work at the handjob that was about to be performed. However, he was also the one standing in front of his classmates, them watching him, nothing unturned, nothing hidden, his testicles on display to Colin’s camera.

“Turn him,” Colin said.

Seamus turned Harry more to the side; they all saw a bit more of the profile, as Harry’s dick stiffened before their eyes. All watched as Seamus’ hand proceeded to stroke, the foreskin slipped.

“Don’t forget to catch the sample,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Harry felt ridiculous, standing there, as the audience moved around, each one trying to get a better, closer, look at his hard erection being stimulated. Harry knew he’d rather have Gia do this, but didn’t have time to fetch her. However, the thought of Gia, her hands, the job he wish he’d get, was enough to trigger the response.

Colin’s camera was about a foot away, happily clicking, while all other eyes focused as Harry felt the pressure release. They all saw the white snot shoot out. Seamus’s reflexes were fast enough to catch it in the clear glass dish. They all watched the white pour out of his slit, dribbling down.

“What’s it looking like?” Harry asked.

“The normal stuff,” Seamus said.

“Exactly!” Harry said, “It’s normal, I’m normal! The only soreness I have is because this is the third time today I’ve had to do this, and four times yesterday—in other words, overuse! Quash the damn rumors!”

“I don’t know how you’re fucking doing it, pulling these shenanigans off!” Seamus said, “I’m not falling for it.”

“Then FUCK YOU!” Harry exclaimed, putting both of his middle fingers up to Seamus, “If you don’t believe your eyes, then what will you fucking believe?”

Harry stuffed his clothes into his book bag, left the Hospital Wing despite being stark naked with a strand of semen still clinging from his softening penis.

Chapter Text

Harry landed Friday afternoon in Gia’s bedroom. He put the portkey and wand onto the backpack that was on his bed when he heard it.


Despite still being naked from his examination earlier, Harry went out of the bedroom, where smoke was pouring out of Andy’s bedroom. Harry coughed, when Andy came out, on her hands and knees.

“What the fuck?!” Harry stammered.

“Where’s that dick?” Andy asked, ignored Harry’s as she went for the stairs, her shirt and shorts were singed.

Harry went down the stairs.

“DIE!” Andy shouted at Richard.

Richard was naked, from his smooth chest down to the feet, hazel eyes glaring at Andy; but backed into a corner of the living room.

“I hate you!” Richard barked.

“ANDREA! RICHARD!” Kristen shouted as she came down the spiral stairs, dressed in her Police uniform.

“How am I to make anything if she’s destroying it all!” Richard stammered.

“Where’s Gia?” Harry asked.

“Downstairs,” Richard said as Kurt came into the house.

“What did I miss?” Kurt asked, unfastening the top of his firefighter uniform.

“Upstairs, into your bedrooms,” Kristen said, “Your father and I will discuss sanctions, understood?”

Harry went down the steps, into the basement. Jen and Gia were over by the workbench, Harry went over. He slipped in front of Gia, leaned back into her bare breasts, letting them push against the sides of his neck. On the bench, the green boards were broken, bits busted off.

“I take it this is what started today’s fight?” Harry asked.

“Richard spent a year on this project,” Jen said, “Ant destroyed it in minutes.”

“I’m guessing the hike’s off then?” Harry said.

“Depends on their parents, now, doesn’t it?” Jen said “You’re both ready.”

While Jen’s sports bra was suggestive, she was wearing it and the short shorts. Both Harry and Gia were naked.

“Hey, come up!” Kristen shouted down the stairs.

Harry, Jen, and Gia, went back over, back up, into the living room. Richard was standing nearby, still starkers, his testicles hung as loose as Harry’s were. Kurt was leaning back against the wall near the cold fireplace; Andy was sitting on the stair.

“Richard, Andy, you are both on restriction until further notice,” Kristen said.

“She destroyed—” Richard started.

“Who lit off the smoke bombs in Andrea’s bedroom?” Kristen said, “I’d like nothing better than you two to shake hands, make up, and be civilized to each other, but that’s not going to happen, is it?”

“Stop him from beating me up,” Andy said.

“Because the separation will give us some peace,” Kristen said, “Richard’s going on his little hike with his friends.”

Richard’s face lit up.

“You will be on restriction when you get back,” Kristen said, “Understood?”

“Yes,” Richard said.

“Good, get your things, Kurt will drive you,” Kristen said.

Harry and Gia, Jen, went for the stairs.

“Best to stay out of my bedroom until the exterminators have a chance,” Richard said.

Harry and Gia entered her bedroom.

“I thought Dudley was mean,” Harry said, grabbing the backpack.

“Sorry about that,” Richard said, entering the bedroom.

“Dressing light?” Gia asked. While she was naked, like she normally was, Richard usually wore his boxers.

“Ant got a lice colony,” Richard said, “All of my clothes, my sheets, even my mattress have to be burned.”

“And your sleeping bag?” Gia asked.

“Luckily downstairs,” Richard said, “I already packed before she…”

Harry filled Hedwig’s dish with food.

“Only a couple of days this time,” Harry said to the bird as he stroked her feathers, “See you later.”

Harry cracked the window open, Hedwig hooted before she left.

“Doesn’t Snuffles have a dish?” Richard asked.

“That’s a bloody good idea!” Harry said, “Bet he’d enjoy that.”

Gia held Richard’s shoulder by the side as him and her went back out, down the stairs.

“Don’t give Harry ideas, it’s a bit of a strain on Snuffles,” Gia said.

“Snuffles needs food,” Richard said.

“Snuffles feeds himself,” Gia said, “Probably going for the bangers or the steak if you leave that in the refrigerator.”

Snuffles growled a bit from the floor.

“He heard you,” Richard said, “How does Snuffles like his steaks?”

“Not sure, haven’t asked,” Gia said, “Whatever you do, don’t mention leashes to Harry.”

“Snuffles is so…funny,” Richard said.

Harry and Jen came down the stairs.

“Hey,” Harry said to Snuffles, “Small hike with Gia and them, I can manage. Keep Hedwig company.”

“Are you going to put anything on?” Kurt asked Richard.

“Just get him out of the house,” Kristen stated.

They left the house.

“That’s in?” Jen asked as Harry put in his small leather backpack into the boot of the car.

“He’s efficient,” Richard said as he put his large framed backpack in.

Harry got into the back seat of the blue sedan, into the middle, while Gia got into his left. Jen got in on the right, while Richard tried to shove even further; however, they were already packed in tight.

“One per belt,” Kurt said.

Richard grumbled a bit, moved around the car, entered.


Gia handed Harry a cola soft drink, in the can. He sipped on it.

“You didn’t tell me this was going to be clothing optional,” Jen said to Richard as Kurt drove.

“They generally don’t bother, and I wasn’t planning on Ant,” Richard said.

“Will you stay warm?” Kurt asked..

“Yes,” Harry replied.

“Neither Kristen nor I approve of this,” Kurt said, “However, we value sanity in the house.”

“It’s about self–image, self–confidence,” Richard said, “Gia didn’t have any until Harry came along, they traveled naked, and it’s a world apart.”

“He’s lying,” Harry whispered to Gia.

“Shh!” Jen whispered, “He’s good at talking them up.”

“I want to know myself better,” Richard said, “You know, get in tune with nature. How better to do that than to be sky clad?”

Jen’s left hand, though, tried to avoid being squeezed between her and Harry, and roamed. She felt Harry’s penis, the fingers grasped his foreskin, and she tugged.

“What’s this?” Jen asked.

“It’s my todger,” Harry said.

“It’s not like Richard’s,” Jen said, “Not at all.”

“Hey!” Richard said.

“I think she means this,” Gia said. Her right hand reached in, took over for Jen, retracted Harry’s foreskin. “Like this?”

“Yeah,” Jen said, “Hadn’t really seen Harry’s up close.”

Richard turned around in his seat, looked backward.

“That?” Richard said, “I’m circumcised—why is that Dad?”

“It looks like mine,” Kurt said.

“Lousy reason,” Richard said.

“You’re already on restriction,” Kurt said, “Don’t make it worse on yourself.”

Richard stayed turned, stared at Jen as Kurt continued. Gia gave Harry another four sodas, he drank. Gia opened a sixth one as Kurt came to a stop at the trailhead, to the preserve as the evening was starting. Richard got out, put on his large framed backpack.

“How many is he going to drink?” Jen asked, “And how many did you bring?”

“More than enough,” Gia said.

“He’s going to have to piss it out,” Jen said.

“Mind?” Harry asked.

Gia put on the backpack.

“I or your mother will be back Sunday at seven in the evening,” Kurt said to Richard, “After that, you’ll go home, sleep, and go to school on Monday, alright?”

“Yeah,” Richard said, “Whatever.”

“Call if you need to come back early,” Kurt said.

“Won’t happen,” Richard replied, “Later.”

Kurt got into the car, backed out. Harry put the empty can into the backpack, grabbed a water bottle.

“You’re just guzzling that down,” Jen said.

Harry knew what she meant, he already felt the urge, the pressure of a swollen bladder.

“Hydration,” Richard said.

“Watch,” Harry said.

Jen watched as Gia’s fingers teased Harry’s bollocks, his erection formed.

“Lets get moving before it gets too dark,” Richard said, “Jen?”

Richard approached Jen, his fingers undid the snaps to short shorts, and he moved to pull off her sports bra. Richard’s stiffening dick made no secret of his mind as Jen’s carpet came to view. He set the clothes aside, put them into a camper’s log book canister nearby.

“You don’t like those,” Jen stated.

“Not when the point is to be a naturalist,” Richard said, pulling her to a walk to the trail.

They walked, four across on the wide trail, into the trees.

“You’d think a summer of seeing his todger go all over would get old, nope,” Gia said.

“I did bring it Gia,” Richard said.

“What?” Harry asked.

“Give it,” Gia said.

Richard opened a side pocket, pulled out a pair of shrink wrapped blue pill.

“Swallow this,” Richard said to Harry, handing one to him, “Need that water.”

Richard tore the wrapper open, popped in the pill, and chased it down with the water.

“It’s safe,” Gia said.

Harry took the other one, opened it, and did the same.

“Is that the viagra?” Jen asked.

“What’s Via—sorry,” Harry said.

“Keeps you hard for hours,” Richard said, pointing to the hard erections.

Jen started to speed up, started to cross in front of Harry.

“Oh, don’t walk directly in front of me,” Harry said, the pressure becoming unbearable.

“Why?” Jen asked, taking a moment to understand with the water bottle back to Harry’s lips.

Jen got out in time as the jet started up, Harry began to piss as he walked. Sure, it might have been a bit awkward at one time, but Harry had already peed for his classmates, he’d rather do it here. Harry wasn’t certain if he felt a surge of magic or not, but his dick seemed happy to be pouring out, and he let it continue as they walked.

“So that’s what you were up to,” Jen said to Gia.

“Yep,” Gia replied.

They all kept an eye on Harry’s jet, continuing, shaking to the right and left as they hiked.

“How much?” Jen asked.

“Dunno, a lot,” Harry said.

Harry kept guzzling, he kept peeing, swearing to himself that his magic likely had something to do with it. It didn’t stop as they walked, the dusk coming upon them, even as Richard got out several flashlights; they climbed the hill to the top.

“Excuse us,” Richard said to Jen and Gia, “Harry.”

Richard took Harry fifty paces away.

“You’re still pissing,” Richard said, holding the light to show Harry’s hard cock still jetting out the clear trail..

Harry had simply stopped worrying about it, he’d let it go, because Gia liked seeing him pee.

“So?” Harry asked.

“I imagine magic is involved?” Richard said, “Jen’s commented about it several times, she’ll catch on if you’re not careful.”

“It doesn’t always work the way you think,” Harry said, “Sometimes it just happens, part of me that I don’t control.”

“Subconsciously?” Richard asked.

“What’s that?” Harry asked.

“Lemme put it this way,” Richard said, “You’ve left piss all the way from the trailhead to here, even Ant’s dog Cody could track you from it.”

Harry closed his eyes, concentrated, as his wand was in the backpack. Finite Incantatem! His penis began to calm down, the stream stopped.

“If you wanna use that magic on Ant, go ahead,” Richard said.

They returned to Gia and Jen. Both already had the sleeping bags out, rolled onto the grass. There were three sleeping bags, the double wide plus two singles.

Meanwhile, a light drizzle showered upon the Astronomy Tower. Hermione held in tight onto Ron, her head into his chest, the front of his shirt was up, held behind his head.

“You wanted to be up here because of the rain,” Hermione said, “So I’d be inclined to—”

“Yep,” Ron said, while holding her tightly around the waist, her hand underneath his trousers, his pants, holding onto his hard erection beneath the cloth, “Nice thought.”

“There are other places,” Hermione said.

“Lets go to the common room and lay starkers in front of the fireplace,” Ron said.

“That’d be a splendid idea,” Hermione said, “Provided it weren’t so full of others.”

“Pull a Harry, go naked, all the way,” Ron said.

“That was rotten, what they made him have to do,” Hermione said, “And they still didn’t believe it!”

“I’m not sure who was torturing who,” Ron said, “I think Harry gained the extra hand.”

“Bad pun Ron,” she said, toying with Ron’s zipper.

“Now what would two Gryffindors be doing up here at this hour?” came the greasy voice.

Ron pulled his shirt back as Professor Snape came forward.

“Watching the stars,” Hermione said.

“They tend to come out at night,” Ron said.

“Really?” Professor Snape said, glancing up at the clouded sky, “Fascinating.”

“We’ll just be going,” Ron said.

“Five points from Gryffindor, each,” Professor Snape said.

Ron and Hermione went down the steps, descended back into the castle, and returned to Gryffindor Tower. Ron climbed the stairs into the sixth year boys’ dormitory.

“There you are,” Seamus said, “Where’s Harry?”

“What’s it to you?” Ron asked.

“He’s not in his bed,” Seamus said, standing there.

“You’re not his mother, bug off,” Ron said, grabbing the largest wool blanket from his four poster, and one from Harry’s.

“I’ve got a right to know!” Seamus said.

“No you do not,” Ron said, going for the door.

“Got a healer coming in from St. Mungo’s, get another opinion,” Seamus said.

“You can get your wiener checked out all you want,” Ron said, “Harry’s business is his own, and mine is my own.”

Ron left the dormitory.

“This ain’t over Weasley!” Seamus shouted.

Ron came back to the common room. Hermione was already sitting in front of the warm fireplace, back against the sofa, near the far end. Ron ignored Neville on the near end, instead, sat down next to her, wrapped one blanket over her; he wrapped the other one over himself, he unbuckled his belt.

“That shouting?” Hermione asked.

“Seamus again,” Ron said, pulling closer to Hermione. He adjusted the blankets so they were leaning against each other, the cloth protected them both. He pushed his trousers down, sat there in his boxers beneath the wool, his face focused on hers

“Same thing?” Hermione said, “Should tell Harry.”

“Not bugging him,” Ron said, “Best to let Seamus come up empty handed.”

“When he searches the castle?” Hermione asked.

“It’s a big castle, lots of places to get lost, you know that,” Ron said, “Though this corner has a fire, and you.”

Ron leaned in, kissed her.

“Know what’s on your mind,” Hermione said.

“Interested?” Ron asked, before he pulled his shirt off, laid it to the side.

“Mind?” Neville asked, his eyes glanced at the shirtless Ron who kept the blanket only to the waist; though Hermione’s was covered higher.

Ron waved at Neville, the red armpit hair showing.

“Go watch out for trouble,” Ron said, “Thanks.”

Neville, though, remained there.

“We’re not alone,” Hermione said.

“So?” Ron said, softly, “It’s not like we’ve kept this a secret.”

Ron pulled her closer, her hand was against his chest. Ron wrapped his arm around her back, reached beneath her shirt, slipped down, and held onto her left hip. She shifted her weight, letting Ron slip her trousers, her knickers, off her beneath the blanket on the stone floor, the garments joined his boxers across the floor. Ron propped up the knees of his parted legs, pulled the blanket up enough to expose his genitals toward the fire. Heat seeped in, loosened his testicles as Ron was now naked beneath the blanket.

“It’s not like I don’t know what you’re doing,” Neville said to Ron.

“Then don’t use your imagination,” Ron said, “Shoo, shoo! Go to bed! Clear the room for us!”

“Fine,” Neville said, getting up.

Neville was the last of them, the common room was now clear of everybody except for Ron and Hermione.

“This isn’t a bed,” Hermione said.

“So?” Ron said, “Got no place better to be than here.”

Ron reached beneath her blanket, unbuttoned her shirt, pulled it off of her.

“One guess,” Hermione said. She reached, felt the warm hard cock hanging in the clear, aimed toward the fire, “Yep.”

“We spent an entire summer,” Ron said, “Bit silly to try to hide it now.”

“This is Hogwarts,” Hermione said.

“So?” Ron said, undoing the back snaps of her brasserie, “They know we’re a thing, no point in trying to deny it, not right.”

Ron pulled the bra out, tossed it to join their other clothes.

“You like being reckless,” Hermione said.

“Of course, of course,” Ron said, removing the wool blanket altogether.

Hermione fingered his pubic hair, kept coming brushing against the stiffness. Ron moved, setting her down, using the blanket as a cushion, but otherwise left her fully visible on the stone floor, the fire warming them both. Ron got onto his knees, let her watch the red sheath of magic shimmer across his cock before he got onto his hands and knees.

“You’ve got no shame, do you?” Hermione asked.

“Don’t think so,” Ron said, straddling her, fingering her folds in her carpet, his tip rested on them. He pushed inward.

“Um…” Hermione said, glancing past Ron.

Ron, however, did not pay heed, not noticing the figure that had come down the stairs, but instead, began to thrust, flexing his hips, letting his cock work inside Hermione. He pushed, pulled, pressed sideways and upward, as he did this, heard Hermione’s heaving breathing that let him relax. A moment later, he pulled out, the semen collecting in the magical condom.

“To witness my brother having sex!” Ginny exclaimed.

“What?” Ron asked, turning around; the condom vanished and the seed dripped from his tip.

“Where’s Harry?” Ginny asked.

“He’s not interested!” Ron said.

“Colin’s asking,” Ginny said.

“He’s not interested in Colin either,” Ron said.

“She didn’t mean that!” Colin said, coming in, “We’re just trying to find him.”

“He’s not answering to you!” Ron said, “Harry’s got no obligations to show his face until Monday’s Quidditch tryouts!”

“His classes?” Hermione asked.

“Those too, but those are on Monday,” Ron said, “You’re not seeing him before then!”

“Of course he’s grumpy,” Colin said to Ginny, “You just interrupted them—”

“Banging in the Common Room!” Ginny exclaimed.

“Get to BED!” Ron shouted.

Hermione wrapped herself in a blanket, went up the stairs. Ron chased her, into the girls dormitory.

“Go away!” Hermione shouted at Ron.

“What?” Ron asked, Parvati studying them.

“Use your own bed,” Hermione said, “Good night!”

Hermione climbed onto her bed, hid beneath the covers.

“Fine,” Ron said, leaving.

Gia woke just after the sun had just crested the trees below them, starting its rise the next morning; Harry was on his side. She didn’t have to feel, but she did, as her nose was already telling her what her hand was felt as her hand went to the other side of him. Harry trembled, curled into a fetal position on his right, his penis was dribbling onto the grass below him. She curled back up behind him, her left hand massaged into his scrotum, the right massaged his right earlobe, and Harry’s teeth stopped chattering.

“He’s a bloody wreck,” Richard said.

“It’s Harry,” Gia said, glancing upward.

Richard’s soft circumcised penis hung out, beneath his chest; his concerned hazel eyes bearing down on her.

“You packed a breakfast?” Richard asked.

“Think so,” Gia said.

“You’re up tomorrow morning then,” Richard said before walking to his backpack; he squatted.

Gia glanced at the balls dangling beneath the butt.

“Those are mine, by the way,” Jen said, seeing Gia’s stare, came over to her.

“Wasn’t going there,” Gia said, “Though they do look good.”

“I know,” Jen said, “You’re gonna have to dry out your sleeping bag, your boyfriend’s clearly a bed wetter.”

Harry was still chattering a bit, the soft penis dribbling.

“Nobody’s perfect,” Gia said, “Harry’s prone to night terrors, but he makes up for it in many ways, very loyal.”

“He was eyeing me a lot last night,” Jen said.

“Harry’s holistic and I trust him,” Gia said, “So long as he shows me his stiffy after he gets it, I’m fine with it. Once he starts hiding it from me, then I’ll worry.”

“Have you found the loo?” Jen asked.

“I’m waiting until Harry wakes,” Gia said, “We like sharing in that.”

“That’s why you—last night,” Jen said, “He’s well practiced.”

Gia’s hand kept pushing into Harry’s scrotum, felt the testicles, as his penis began to stiffen, his eyes fluttered open.

“Morning,” Harry said.

“If he were a cat, he’d be purring,” Jen said.

“PURR!” Harry said.

Gia laughed.

“If I were a cat, I’d have a tail,” Harry said, “Wonder what that’s like, perhaps I should ask Snuffles.”

“We were discussing how ferocious you can be,” Gia said, “Yet, how docile you want to be to let us play.” She massaged back into his scrotum, held his hard cock. “Your most important possession, yet you want me to play with it.”

“First thing in the morning,” Harry replied.

“Where’s the loo?” Jen asked Richard.

“Um…here,” Richard said, going for his backpack. He handed her a roll of toilet paper and a small trowel.

“This again?” Jen asked.

“Yep,” Richard said.

“Think I need to play matchmaker,” Gia said to Harry.

Gia got up, followed Jen to behind a bush. Jen got onto her knees, dug a small hole.

“You’d think Richard’d have done this last night,” Jen said.

“He’s a guy,” Gia said, “You just had to wait until he had to take a dump.”

“My arse is about to explode,” Jen said.

“Could let him play with it, and apologize when it does,” Gia said.

“Eww…no,” Jen said, shaking her head, “You might like that—”

“Watching Harry take a dump isn’t at the top of my entertainment choices either,” Gia said, “That he’s comfortable letting me see it, that he’s okay with me doing it, that’s where it’s important.”

“You’ve got a boyfriend who wets the bed,” Jen said, crouching, holding her butt over the small pit.

“He trusts me, he loves me, so I’m okay with it,” Gia said, “Sure, not always pleasant, but it’s also fun.”

“That’s why he pisses for you at every opportunity?” Jen asked.


Jen’s anus began to drop out her droppings.

“It’s disgusting, yes, and I had hangups with it,” Gia said, “I’ve come to embrace it, his peeing penis is, indeed, gorgeous. Surely, you’ve seen Richard do it.”

“I don’t go out of my way to watch it,” Jen said.

“Have you and him had sex?” Gia asked, she had become curious.

“No,” Jen said, now urinating, “We’re naked, of course.”

“Want to?” Gia asked.

“Think so,” Jen said.

“Try it,” Gia said, “It’ll resolve any doubts, and, if you need it, I did pack a couple of spare condoms for Harry, in case he forgot.”

“You planned for that,” Jen said.

“It’s what his dick is for,” Gia said, “Richard is handsome too.”

“You’re watching him,” Jen insinuated as she wiped with the toilet paper.

“He is,” Gia said, “So is Harry, so is Ron.”

“Don’t really know him,” Jen said.

“Both are loyal, proud, honorable,” Gia said, “Taught me and Hermione that it’s okay to acknowledge it, because, truthfully, lots of us are handsome or beautiful. What’s important is to find a person for you, to cherish them, but it’s equally important to continue to see the beauty in those around you, because that’s the key to loving them too.”

Meanwhile, Ron woke in his dormitory, on his four poster. He went over, stood in front of one of the windows, looked out, not caring that his red pubic hair reflected on the window pane. He glanced over to the Forbidden Forrest, realized that Hermione was becoming stressed, which is why she acted the way she did the previous evening, and the idea came to him fast. Quickly, he put on a shirt and trousers, and ran out of the dormitory.

Ron nearly ran for the girl’s stairs, but stopped as Hermione was sitting at a table, reading.

“What crazy idea do you have now?” Hermione snapped.

“A good one,” Ron said, “Bring a book or two if you want.”

“Oh,” Hermione said, “Action in the library now?”

“We’ll do that tomorrow,” Ron promised as he extended a hand, had his smug grin on his face, “Come on.”

Hermione slung the bookbag onto her shoulder, stashed the book that she was reading into it, and got up. They left Gryffindor Tower.

“All they can talk about is us shagging in the Common Room last night,” Hermione said.

“Good,” Ron said, “At least it cuts Harry some slack.”

“We’ll get detention,” Hermione said.

“You are worth the detention,” Ron said, “I’ll serve it—but I’d rather it be next week instead, you know, whenever you’re busy with homework.”

“You get homework too,” Hermione said.

“I’m not as good at it so I don’t waste my time,” Ron said, before he caught her glare, “Your time, you actually learn, so it’s worth it for you and me.”

She glanced at Ron’s bare feet on the stone.

“See you’re not taking to footwear,” Hermione said.

“We walked across Europe barefoot,” Ron said, “Bit of stone, not a problem.”

Ron tickled the pear on the portrait, on the floor below the Great Hall, entered the kitchen.

“Dobby!” Ron said.

“Dobby is pleased to help!” said the House Elf that appeared before them.

“We’re going outside for a little picnic, for the day,” Ron said, “We’d need—”

Dobby snapped his fingers, handed over a basket.

“Dobby worried it could be a cold day,” Dobby said.

“We’re not that thick,” Ron said, “Thank you.”

Ron carried the basket out of the Kitchen; Hermione followed.

“A picnic?” Hermione asked.

Ron climbed the steps up, went through the door, and walked out of the castle.

“Figured it to be a good idea,” Ron said.

“Not bad,” Hermione said, “Though we’re heading for the Forbidden Forest! Does the word Forbidden register in your brain?”

“No witnesses then,” Ron said, “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, you don’t care for people witnessing us together, unless it’s Harry, so, the Forbidden Forest it is!”

They entered the forest, Ron’s bare feet sunk into the soil as they worked their way to the pond a short ways in, the pond that Hermione had admitted to being her favorite in the previous term. Mist floated in the air under the cold overcast sky above.

“We always come here,” Hermione said.

“Not too late to go for the Shrieking Shack,” Ron said.

“Years ago, I’d have turned you in,” Hermione said, “Funny how things change.”

They sat against a log on the bank, faced the water.

“Suppose Harry’s doing his thing,” Hermione said.

“With those damn rumors about him?” Ron said, “He deserves the break. Fortunately, things can’t get really any worse.”

Ron pulled his shirt.

“That’s all you can think about?” Hermione asked.

“Wanna do this in the common room, again?” Ron asked as he pushed his trousers down.

“It’s always on your mind,” Hermione said.

“Did you learn nothing this summer?” Ron said, “I’d rather be naked with you than anywhere else without you. Sex is optional, but highly desirable.”

“It’s cold,” Hermione said.

Ron reached into his trousers, laying nearby, pulled out his wand, aimed, started a fire between them and the water.

“There,” Ron said, “A fire, me to snuggle into, is there a better way to read a book?”

Hermione smiled, took her shirt off. Ron helped her with the brassiere, the panties. She pulled her cloak over her, leaned in, and took out Advanced Rune Translation , placed it between Ron’s legs. She fiddled with his dick a bit, his red pubic hair, and his bollocks as she read.

“Much better,” Hermione said.

Ron played with her bushy brown hair and let her study his stiffening penis, the heat of the fire kept them warm. Hermione took out a pen, put a couple of runes onto the pink glans of the dick for a few moments before she licked her finger to rub them off.

Both lumps hung loose on Harry, between his spread legs, the noon sun kept them warm, with his soft todger currently laying to the side. Gia glanced at these, with Harry on his back on the grassy hill, before returning back to Jen; both sitting nearby. Richard was also laying, though his legs were together, exhibited some nervousness.

“Need some help?” Gia asked.

“No,” Jen said.

Gia, though, stood, walked over to Richard, near his head, and her eyes looked down at him.

“So, I understand you need a coach,” Gia said, “You know, how to use your dick.”

“I don’t need that,” Richard said.

“Just watch,” Gia said, stepping next to Harry.

She sat on his lap, played with his softness until it stiffened; she saw the brief shimmer of green, and she sat on the hard cock, threading it into her. Gia motioned, Richard stood, came over, watched, along with Jen next to him; both at Gia flexing, and Harry’s sliding hard cock with his bollocks bouncing. Gia relaxed, felt the tremble in Harry, and stood. It was clear Harry’s seed was collecting.

“Nice condom,” Jen said.

“Your point?” Richard asked.

“You’ve been super nice to me,” Gia said, “I’m repaying it, telling you that there are times to act not like a gentlemen, but instead, be a raving lunatic.”


Harry jumped, stood, they surveyed around. At the bottom of the hill, on the trail, were a group a young boys, laughing, facing the shallow ravine below them. One lit a firecracker in their hand, tossed the M80 into the ravine.


“Small lake that way, good for swimming,” Richard said, pointing behind him, “Likely a better idea?”

They gathered their sleeping bags, things, repacked their backpacks, and made their way down the hill, and got onto the trail. The other boys, shorter, about to hit puberty themselves, ran past, giving some catcalls before they lit another M80 and tossed it.


Those boys ran out of sight; Richard took another trail, heading off to the left.

“They saw us!” Jen grumbled.

“Yeah,” Richard said, starting to blush as his erection returned, “Another pass and they’d see—”

“That’s the point, at least one of them,” Harry said, walking next to Richard, “Advertising that you are attracted to her and love her enough that you’re willing to be caught. Trust me, it’s only a big deal when you make it a big deal. The stiffy’s expected, and be a big disappointment if it didn’t happen.”

They followed the trail, it wound its way around, heading downward, underneath the cliffside, with a sharp drop–off below them.

“So, Harry, anything interesting happening for you at school?” Jen asked, “What’s it called?”

“St. Mary’s,” Gia said, she had learned the cover name ages ago.

“Nothing too much, just the usual,” Harry replied.

Gia knew Harry was lying, covering up, as she had to been careful not to remove his broom from the backpack.

“He’s not eager to advertise,” Richard said, “As I understand it, it’s a boarding school, he had to get special permission to sleep off campus.”

“How did you persuade that?” Jen asked Harry as they passed over some loose gravel.

“They had their reasons,” Harry said.

Jen slipped on the loose gravel, began to slide. Harry moved fast, gripped behind her armpits, and caught her. She stumbled for a moment, butt headed down, until her feet regained her footing. Harry lifted and Jen stood back up.

“Ta,” Jen said.


Harry’s eyes turned enough, upward, as the rocks began to tumble as another M80 hit the slope.


Harry’s hands pushed on Jen, shoved her forward fast. He turned enough to glimpse at Gia. A rock hit Harry on the head; he went limp as he tripped, started to tumble sideways as more rocks hit to push him.

“Shit!” came the exclaim from above, of the boys running away from the scene.

Gia and Richard, meanwhile, watched as Harry rolled down, bouncing like a rag doll, over the rocky embankment, until he landed on his back at the bottom. A boulder moved, pinned his right leg; however, Harry laid there, motionless.

“HARRY!” Gia yelled, “HARRY!”

Chapter Text

Rocks were still tumbling, sliding, though Gia could only watch as Richard held her back, which kept her out of the path of damage. As soon as the rocks stopped, Richard moved first, slid down, ignoring the new scrapes on his butt. Gia and Jen made it down to Harry ten seconds later. Harry was still breathing; Gia felt soreness in her own leg, but as if responding to her desires, Harry opened his eyes, the bottle green eyes studying the three faces above him.

“Nice of you to drop in,” Harry said, laying there as the big boulder kept his right leg pinned; his left arm bleeding.

“This is bad,” Richard said, “I need bandages, and something to pry.”

“Jen?” Gia said, reaching into the backpack on her back, “Find something to pry.”

Jen left to search. Gia handed Harry his wand.

“This isn’t the right time—” Richard started.

Harry, however, aimed, the boulder levitated, moved several feet over, and went back down.

“Alright!” Richard said. He knelt and looked at the bone protruding from the skin. “This is really bad, we’ll need a sleeping bag—”

Harry shook his head, “Here!” Gia took the backpack off her back, handed it to Harry. Harry laid the wand down as he rummaged into the side pocket, pulled out the Hogwarts pin, rested it on his stomach.

“What are you planning?” Richard said.

“I can be to Hogwarts, to our Healer, before you could get a stretcher together,” Harry said, “See you back at Noigate, we’ll return there.”

Gia held onto the pin as Harry tapped his wand. A jerk to the naval, and they landed on Harry’s four poster.

“You fit Ron’s clothes,” Harry said, “Get dressed—don’t be fussy to the wardrobe.”

Gia got out.

“This one, right?” Gia asked, seeing the trunk with the Chudley Canons stickers on it.

“Yep,” Harry said, “I’ll…” He fainted, blood still oozing out of his wounds.

“HELP!” Gia shouted.

Gia barely had time to cinch on Ron’s bathrobe when Colin Creevy entered the room.

“What the—?” Colin asked.

“Harry needs a doctor,” Gia said.

“Yeah,” Colin said. Colin put Harry into a fireman carry, over his shoulder, carried Harry. They walked fast, down the steps, through the corridors, to the Hospital Wing.

“Mr. Creevy—my goodness,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Colin put Harry down onto the bed.

“Thank you,” Gia said to Colin, stood next to Harry, and she looked at Madam Pomfrey. “He’ll survive?”

“Too early to jinx it,” Madam Pomfrey said, her wand first worked the arm, “Most likely.”

“Miss. Prescott,” said Professor Dumbledore as he slowly entered the Hospital Wing, “I would like to speak with you.”

Professor Dumbledore came over, stood, shaking on the cane. Gia looked at the old man, with the long beard. With a little twinkling in the eyes, Gia followed him into Madam Pomfrey’s office.

“Mr. Potter’s arrangement … is … confidential,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“We went for a hike, with my two friends,” Gia started. She described the hike, felt as if Professor Dumbledore was already working out the white lies, the gaps, she added to sanitize the tale for him.

“Thank you,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Harry chooses his friends well, as do you.”

Gia went back out, to where Madam Pomfrey was still tending to Harry.

“I’m keeping him asleep for several hours,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Better for Mr. Potter. Yell if there’s a problem.”

Madam Pomfrey returned to her office.

Gia sat on the edge of the bed, held Harry’s hand as he laid motionless underneath the blanket. She saw him idle, reasoned he wasn’t dreaming, the night terrors were not haunting him. She wondered how far she could go with him here.

“ALBUS!” Madam Pomfrey said, very loudly as her voice carried out of her office, “You’re as obstinate as Mr. Potter!”

“My needs are unimportant,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“It can be TREATED,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“At what cost?” Professor Dumbledore said, “We cannot afford the time!”

“That’s exactly the POINT!” Madam Pomfrey said, “We’d get more of it.”

“The decision is final, in every sense of the word,” Professor Dumbledore said, “If you excuse me, I want to check up on Mr. Potter again.”

Professor Dumbledore came back out, leaned heavily on a cane as he sat down on the adjacent bed.

“He will be alright, won’t he?” Gia asked.

“Mr. Potter is no stranger to these walls,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Yes, I believe so. I do worry about secrecy, though.”

“You mean magic?” Gia said, “Richard knows, though I’d imagine he’s having a rough time explaining to Jen—his girlfriend.”

“Fortunately Mr. Potter was able to summon the strength to get to Hogwarts,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Otherwise…the outcome could have been disastrous.”

“You’d have magic,” Gia said.

“Alas, magic cannot cure everything,” Professor Dumbledore said, “No, once a person has died, they are dead, no amount of magic can bring them back.”

“Oh,” Gia said, still holding Harry’s hand.

“Harry absolutely loves you, … there’s no bottom to that well,” Professor Dumbledore said, “That much is clear from your … teenage spirit.”

It took a moment for Gia to understand and to cinch the bathrobe.

“That is Mr. Weasley’s,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Some things do not change, … the brashness and boldness of youth is one of them. … This is a institution of learning, … oneself is the most important topic. … Hogwarts is no stranger … mandatory swimming lessons when I attended … before swimming suits were a thing. … I did not like them, … bit relieved that they were not a thing when I became Headmaster.”

“You canceled it,” Gia stated.

“No,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Before I taught … one boy drowned. … Boys in skin swimming in the lake … horseplay in Winter, inevitable.”

“Swimming pool?” Gia asked.

“Vetoed by governors who see the lake,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Keep Mr. Potter well.”

Professor Dumbledore shook, shifted his weight onto his cane, stood back up.

“Thank you,” Gia said.

“A pleasure,” Professor Dumbledore said, the slow tap of his cane went with him as he left the Hospital Wing.

Gia sat there, used her other hand to caress Harry’s ears, watched him breathe as he was in this induced sleep.

Later that afternoon, Ron stepped out of the water of the pond in front of Hermione. His bangs dripped water, his fingers dripped water, his chest was damp beneath the light rain of the well clouded sky, however, her eyes were on the wet dick, and the shrunken scrotum hiding his bollocks from sight.

“You’re going to freeze those off!” Hermione said.

“You’ve seen it before,” Ron said, “I know, I’ll assign you an essay on it!”

“Ron!” Hermione snapped.

Ron turned around, bent over, and backed up until his butt was over the low fire, his arse aimed toward Hermione, and he was looking between his legs at her.

“Observation point,” Ron said, grin on his face, “Watch em warm up!” He shook his butt, the testicles, the penis, though cold, swung. “How low will they go? Find out!”

“You’re just being ridiculous,” Hermione said.

“You’re smiling,” Ron retorted as he moved backward toward her, his bollocks came to rest against her forehead, “That’ll warm them up.”

“Trying to tell me something?” Hermione asked.

“How do they look?” Ron said, “You know, make sure they’re healthy.”

Hermione snorted.

Ron moved, sat next to her, pulled the heated blanket from the picnic basket over them. He ate at the chicken.

“You take a break from eating to show me your todger,” Hermione said, “You’re definitely silly.”

“Is it working?” Ron said, “You tell me.”

“You’d be missing a couple of body parts if it wasn’t,” Hermione replied.

“I know you like being smart and all,” Ron said, head turned to watch her face, “But we simple folk, you gotta tell me so I know, alright?”

“You know me,” Hermione said.

“I know,” Ron said, “Still, it does a lot of good hearing it from your mouth. The good, the bad, and the ugly.”

Hermione snorted.

“My butt’s ugly?” Ron asked, his right hand dropped to play with her tail bone.

“I didn’t say that,” Hermione said.

“Mind you, it’s not my best feature,” Ron said, “You’ve seen my dick, right?”

“I think so,” Hermione said, giving him an evil, mocking, glare.

“I look at yours and what comes to me most is who it’s attached to, you,” Ron said, “So, yeah, I’ll watch your butt.” He ran the hand across the tops of her buttocks, down to where they met the mossy ground beneath them.

Hermione snorted.

“Besides, who’s the fucking idiot that sees the khazi and thinks that’s the best spot for a pleasure palace?” Ron asked, his hand tickled into the top of her butt crack.

Hermione laughed.

“I didn’t get the choice,” Ron said, “But, I still love you, from the girl more afraid of expulsion than death, to the hot friend willing to hang out naked with me. I like that.”

“Let’s see about that,” Hermione said, her hand reaching beneath the cloak. She felt his pubic hair, moved down to the soft todger with the testicles between his legs. She plied into the scrotum as his dick stiffened against her wrist.

“So, you found a toy to play with,” Ron said, “It’s fun to play with toys.”

Ron reached behind her back, wrapped his right arm underneath her armpit, felt her right breast, massaged into it. She snorted.

“Going to make me guess, again?” Ron asked.

She nodded. Ron moved, knelt in front of her, his knees to either side of her hips.

“Suppose you’re wanting this,” Ron tapped his erection against her stomach.

She shook her head.

“You’ve got toys too,” Ron said, “Lemme play with ‘em.”

Ron held her breasts, she glared.

“Look, we both know these aren’t the biggest,” Ron said, “Kinda small, but that’s not important. They’re yours, it’s what I see, it’s what Harry sees, and because you’re nice, you’re friendly, you’re pretty, these turn me on, that’s what counts, right? I mean, sure, take my todger—” he held his hard cock “—Harry’s is longer, got more skin, but this is the one you’re playing with, that’s also important.”

“Interesting what a stare will get,” Hermione said.

“I thought it’d matter, to girls, because of what us boys will do,” Ron said, “I mean, Gia’s are honkers, but still—”

“Quit before you get too far behind, Ronald,” Hermione said.

“Big’s got it’s drawbacks,” Ron said, “Mum always complained about her back, and you saw hers.”

“Quit,” Hermione warned.

“Alright, alright,” Ron said, “My stiffy loves you too.”

Hermione snorted.

“Makes my examination go quicker,” Ron said, stately, rubbing her tits with both hands, “You know, just to be sure they’re still okay, nothing wrong.”

“Right,” Hermione said, she rolled her eyes.

“Good way to spend the day,” Ron said, “Okay, maybe some Quidditch would make it better.”

Ron lightly pushed, lowered her to the ground. He cock shimmered as it touched her carpet. He massaged.

“You’re trying to break the rules?” Hermione said, “It’s starting to get late.” Clouds were still with them, and starting to get a bit dimmer as the evening was starting to get a grip.

“Good thing you’re not Prefect,” Ron said, pushing his hard cock inward.

“How dare you think I’m not qualified!” she snapped, pulling back, forcing his dick back out of her.

“You’re qualified and capable,” Ron said, grin on his face, “That’s the problem, as Prefect, you’d have to report me.”

“Trying to be a bastard?” Hermione asked.

“Yep,” Ron said.

Ron pushed his hard cock inward, between the lacy flaps of skin lining her vagina, letting it immerse itself inside. He pulled, letting the plunger action of his glans drag along before pushing again.

“Hello?” came the voice, footsteps approached.

Ron pulled back, tumbled, recovered himself to sit on his butt, hands to the ground, his excited cock reaching upward between his parted legs.

“Who—?” Ron asked

“Funny spot to sleep,” Neville said, barefoot, in just a T–shirt and white briefs, “Your room?”

Ron and Hermione exchanged glances. Ron stood, ignoring his still hard erection, approached Neville.

“Are you alright Neville?” Ron asked.

Neville kept his gaze, off into the distance, his eyes glazed over, but groaned as he rubbed his head with his hand.

“NEVILLE!” Ron shouted.

“Oi,” Neville said, “Funny what you’ve done to your bed, have you redecorated?”

Hermione was already dressed, a bit disorganized from her panic.

“Neville, where are you?” Hermione asked.

Ron took advantage, dressed himself.

“Dunno,” Neville said, rubbing his own shoulder, seemingly unconcerned that he was pissing in his briefs, the wet spot grew as the liquid dripped and poured from the entire bulge.

“What’s your name?” Ron asked.

“Ne…Nev…Longbutt,” Neville said.

Ron ran his hand through Neville’s dark hair, came to a small patch hastily cut short in the back.

“Missing hair,” Ron said, “Come on, we’re heading to the Hospital Wing.”

Ron ran his arm around Neville, they walked along. Hermione grabbed the picnic basket, her bookbag, and followed.

“Weird spot, already have breakfast?” Neville said, “You got a headache too?”

“We’ve got you,” Ron said, “Not too much further.”

“Breakfast date!” Neville exclaimed, “Ready for Charms? Fifteen minutes—”

“It’s Saturday,” Ron said as they left the Forbidden Forest, “No class today.”

“No, it’s Friday,” Neville corrected.

“Don’t worry, just a bit further to get the answers,” Ron said.

They went through the doors, entered, and went up to the first floor, into the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey came over.

“Please,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Ron put Neville onto the bed.

“Found him outside,” Ron said, “Seemed very disorientated and confused.”

“Five points to Gryffindor,” Madam Pomfrey said, drawing the curtain around the bed, “I’ll handle this from here.”

Ron left that bed.

“Ron! Hermione!”

Gia, waved at them while still wearing Ron’s bathrobe; next to her was the heavily bandaged Harry laying on it. Ron towered over the bed, looked down at Harry, mostly covered with the blanket; though his right leg was out, wrapped tightly.

“For somebody who despises Hospitals,” Ron said, “You’re a frequent visitor.”

Green eyes glared at Ron’s blue.

“What happened?” Hermione asked.

“Slight disagreement with some rocks,” Harry said, looking at Hermione, “I’ll be alright.”

“Trivial,” Gia said, clearly trying to help keep Harry’s sense of pride, “Tiny broken leg, fractured vertebrae, some lacerations, and several other trivial things.”

“Did you two have a nice day?” Harry asked, his eyes on the picnic basket that Hermione was still carrying, “Any action?”

Hermione glared.

“Neville crashed it,” Ron said.

“I wasn’t expecting him to join you,” Harry said.

“Not that you twat!” Ron said, before he explained.

“That is odd,” Harry said, “But it’s Neville too.”

“Well, if you’ll excuse me,” Ron said, “I want a shower, let Gia have a suck on you.”

“Don’t put that idea into his head!” Hermione said to Ron.

“Here?” Harry said, “It’d be brilliant, of course.”

“Don’t by chance have something better to wear?” Gia asked.

“Nice fashion,” Ron said.

“It’s not like we had a bunch of choices,” Harry said, “We weren’t exactly dressed … didn’t even have anything with us for that.”

“This shower idea sounds nice,” Gia said.

“If it weren’t for this, I’d join you,” Harry said, “Even bang Gia, guess, Ron, that’ll be your task.”

“Harry!” Hermione snapped.

“I’ll suffer,” Ron said, smiling.

“Okay, you finish him then, if you want,” Harry said, “Ron’s clearly frustrated, needs relief.”

Gia laughed, Ron chuckled.

“Well, what are we going to do?” Hermione asked.

“Let Harry bang Gia, right here,” Ron said, “We’ll close the screens, act as—”

Harry began to glare.

“What?!” Harry exclaimed.

“As a Professor, I have the right and duty to check,” Professor Lupin said as he entered, came over to Harry, “So the rumors are true.”

“It’s nothing,” Harry said.

“You are in a Hospital bed,” Professor Lupin said.

“Careful,” Ron said, his eyes studying the professor, “Do NOT harass him for seeking these services here.”

Ron and Lupin locked eyes, while Harry’s bottle green darted between the pair.

“Pomfrey said—” Harry said.

“That is Madam Pomfrey—one point,” Professor Lupin said, his eyes now on Harry, “Don’t get me wrong, I am happy that you came in, however, I’d still would like to know why.”

“Freak accident,” Harry said, “Some rocks fell. It’s normally a safe place to be.”

“We came immediately,” Gia said, before giving a partial explanation.

“Do you have any idea the seriousness of the situation?” Lupin sat down on a stool. “This time you were lucky—what if you were permanently knocked out? They’d—”

“As happened during the summer,” Ron said, “Muggles would—”

“A patient is trying to rest!” Madam Pomfrey rounded around the corner, pointing to Ron, Hermione, and Gia. “Professor Lupin, can you have a look at something?”

“I want you here,” Harry said to Gia as she stood.

“Lets see to this shower idea,” Gia said.

“Bang it!” Harry said to Ron.

Hermione rolled her eyes, followed Ron and Gia out of the Hospital Wing. They went up the steps. They made it to Gryffindor Tower, up into the sixth year boys’ dormitory, entered. Ron pulled his shirt, his trousers off, walked into the shower. Gia pulled the bathrobe off, stood naked in the dormitory, followed Ron into the shower.

“You’re not going to seriously entertain Harry’s idea?” Hermione said, her eyes glaring at his growing erection.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Ron said, “Why not? And, join us, there’s enough room for you too.”

Hermione, though, stayed there, watched both Ron and Gia letting the hot water pour over them.

“Harry’s no stranger to the Hospital, is he?” Gia asked.

“Nope, doesn’t know them,” Ron said, taking the soap and massaging Gia’s shoulders.

Hermione snorted.

“I take it he’s a frequent visitor then,” Gia said.

“He’s more familiar with the Hospital than most,” Ron said, working her back.

“Professor Lupin was right,” Gia said, “Harry had his lights knocked out, if he didn’t wake up—he might not have made it.”

“What–if, a dangerous game,” Ron said, working her buttocks, while his hard cock kept pressing against her tail bone, “He cared enough about you to come back, think about that.”

“I still see him laying there,” Gia said, turning around, “My heart stopped, I thought he was dead.”

“Harry’s had a lot of close calls over the years,” Ron said, “Only takes one to fail, still, he’s here, he’ll be able to play…”

Ron studied the soft bosoms, each one resting in the palm of his hands, supporting them. He had, of course, seen them many times, though perhaps Harry’s suggestion had stuck in his head. What Ron did know, though, was that all previous thoughts had drained out, he marveled at the softness and knew his stiff erection wasn’t going anywhere.

“You are going to bang, aren’t you?!” Hermione snapped before she ran out.

“Hermione’s got issues?” Gia asked.

“Never quite in step with Harry’s idea,” Ron said, “I think it’s a good one, and right now, its definitely on my mind.”

Gia’s hands felt Ron’s scrotum, his hard cock.

“Mind if I peed?” Gia asked.

“No problem, see the—” Ron started, only to be stopped by the smell, the extra sensation.

Ron glanced down. Even though they were in the shower, with both heads pouring out, her breasts had created enough shelter, and he could see the extra shower head, between her legs, jutting out the yellow stream, getting Ron’s hard erection, his testicles, as she peed.

“Harry likes that,” Gia said.

“He pisses in his sleep, likely reminds him,” Ron said.

A glint of light, and Ron swore to himself that it was his hard erection doing the move, as it plunged inward, fully immersing his cock inside Gia.

“Oh,” Gia said, “I’ll give you one thing, you are handsome.”

It was a line that Ron realized he was crossing, something he didn’t do all summer, despite Harry having given the green light. He was starting to fuck Harry’s girlfriend, with his blessing, of course, but still, a first.

“Does this help?” Ron asked.

“A bit,” Gia said.

Ron pulled, letting the suction of his glans against her vaginal wall do its thing, noting it felt different, a bit softer than Hermione’s. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he kept flexing his hips, sliding it back and forth.

“Fucking his girlfriend?” Seamus said, entering the dormitory, “Suppose that’s one way to make the history books, being murdered by Harry Potter.”

“Bug off,” Ron said, “Or I’ll have to teach you to bang.”

Ron ignored Seamus, focused on Gia, let her hands guide him a bit, to apply more pressure as his shaft moved. He kept pushing and pulling, she breathed, and his testicles kept swinging as they hit on her. Ron started to stumble, as the enormity hit him as he felt the pressure begin to release; he pulled out as the salvo fired.

“Sealed your fate,” Seamus said, “Later.” Seamus left.

Gia reached down, held Ron’s still ejaculating hard dick.

“Thank you,” Gia said. She pulled Ron closer, kissed him.

“It’s nearly dinner time,” Ron said.

Ron ran the soap on Gia, washed her breasts for a moment, before bringing the soap onto himself. They quickly washed, walked back into the rest of the room, drying with fluffy white towels.

“Don’t mind?” Gia said, “Harry’s a bit small for me.”

“Fine,” Ron said.

Gia dressed with Ron’s spare casual clothes, while Ron reused what he had been wearing earlier. Ron escorted Gia out, they went down the stairs, where Hermione was glaring at them.

“She’s not happy,” Seamus said.

“Really?” Ron said, before addressing Hermione, “Dinner?”

“Go ahead,” Gia said to Ron; Gia went over to Hermione.

Ron, however, took the hint, left, headed for the Great Hall. As he passed the Hospital Wing, Neville came out. Neville’s briefs had been cleaned, but he was still wearing them.

“Hi Ron,” Neville said, “I’m starving.”

They went down the steps, entered. It was clear from the nearly empty dishes that they were toward the end of dinner, that most of the other students had already ate. Neville and Ron sat across from each other at the Gryffindor Table. Ron grabbed at the ham, put it onto a plate.

“Did they figure out what happened?” Ron asked.

“Big mystery,” Neville said, piling on some of the hash, “Madam Pomfrey found Veritaserum in me, while Professor Dumbledore thinks I had a Memory Charm—like I really needed that.”

“It is weird,” Ron said, hoping Hermione could figure it out.

“Hermione!” Gia shouted, following her along the corridors.

“What’d you expect?” Hermione demanded, turning around, glared at Gia, “You—”

“I did as was asked!” Gia said, “As was needed!”

“Necessary?” Hermione stammered, “I assume you went all the way!”

Hermione moved on, Gia ran to catch up.

“You’re not looking at the big picture,” Gia said.

“i know what the big picture is!” Hermione retorted.

“No, no you do not,” Gia replied.

“You think you know everything!” Hermione said.

“We’re going to do this Ron’s way,” Gia said, pushing Hermione against the nook of a wall, Gia’s hands slipping underneath Hermione’s shirt, sliding onto Hermione’s breasts, held them. “Harry’s heart is big, really big, he loves me, he loves you, and he even loves Ron; it doesn’t diminish us. But understand this, Harry could easily have died! Harry was knocked out, just lucky he came back a minute later, but that’s one of the longest minutes of my life!”

“Harry bounces back, he always does,” Hermione said.

“So does everybody, until that one time they don’t,” Gia said, “What if this was that one time? Ron was reassuring me in his own way.”

“He certainly did,” Hermione said, grumpily.

“Look, they stopped fighting over you,” Gia said, she massaged Hermione’s breasts, “And we’re not fighting over Harry either. I admit the first time I saw Harry banging you, it wasn’t easy, but I know he loves me and you. I’m willing to share him with you because you mean a lot to him. Can we agree to share Ron? He’s handsome too, a cute boy, and he’s got a really big heart too. How’s your heart?”

“I…” Hermione said.

“We understand it’s not easy, sharing,” Gia said, “Both of them want to pretend that Ron is to you, and Harry’s just to me, but they’re lying to themselves. Yet, I don’t want to break it, because it’s noble, and I like it. I mean, if we’re being open, I think Harry and Ron have gotten onto each other too.”

“I know we made them make up, that one time,” Hermione said.

“I think they’ve done it since,” Gia said, “Which is fine, if they need to apologize, make up, or bond their friendship a bit tighter, that’s in their blood, isn’t it?”

“I guess so,” Hermione said.

“We’re all important,” Gia said, “What you feel matters, so does Ron, so does Harry, it all matters to us; we’re the family Harry has left.”

Hermione took a moment, thinking it over.

“Besides, gives me a chance to compare,” Gia said, “Ron’s really got to work on you, doesn’t he?”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked.

“Felt like Ron expected it to take a while,” Gia said, “Had me going before he did. Harry, took a bit, but he’s getting okay there. Perhaps its the girth.”

“So,” Hermione said, “We’re comparing notes?”

“Why not?” Gia said, “We’ve got two handsome boys, both dedicating themselves to us, lets share, double the company, double the pleasure.”

“It’s hard to get used to,” Hermione said.

“Tough to watch that first time, the second time, right?” Gia said, “Remember, I love you too.”

Gia leaned in, kissed Hermione.

“I…” Hermione uttered as Gia pulled back.

“Besides, I just got one dirty thought,” Gia said, pulling her hands back out of Hermione’s shirt, “Best not to do it here.”

“What is it?” Hermione asked.

“Lets see how Harry’s getting along, alright?” Gia asked, changing the topic.

They walked, descended, until they reached the first floor. They entered the Hospital Wing, it was already deep into the evening, the windows were dark outside.

“I told you I haven’t had to go!” Harry exclaimed.

“That bedpan has been charmed to induce a sample!” Madam Pomfrey said.

“It hasn’t worked,” Harry said.

Gia and Hermione slipped behind the screen, Harry was glaring at Madam Pomfrey. Harry had white pajamas on, the blanket lumped over to the side, though the back of his pajama bottoms were down enough to seal his buttocks to a bed pan.

“This is for patient privacy!” Madam Pomfrey said.

“I’m his girlfriend,” Gia said, “There’s nothing I haven’t seen!”

“Hi,” Harry said to Gia.

“What kind of sample are we going for?” Hermione asked.

“Stool sample,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“I’ll get it for you,” Gia said.

“I wasn’t—” Harry started.

“You’re a big boy,” Gia said to Harry, “Hold your legs up.”

Harry did this, and Gia pulled the pajamas bottoms a bit further, to his knees, to expose the anus and his genitals.

“This’ll be easier for you,” Hermione said to Madam Pomfrey.

Gia patted Harry’s testicles. She moved her hand down, her finger pushed into his anus, and she massaged around it, inward, outward.


Gia pulled her finger out, and the sludge began to creep out. Harry let out a long mass. Gia held the bedpan for it to fall into. Gia grabbed the washcloth as she waited for Harry to finish; she cleaned her finger. After Harry stopped, she wiped around the anus.

“Mr. Potter performed, for you,” Madam Pomfrey said, taking the bedpan.

“Perhaps,” Gia said, “Look, I know you mean well, and we can trust our lives to you, but your bedside manner is medieval. If you need another sample, let me know, I can get it.”

“And you—” Madam Pomfrey pointed at Harry, his legs still up, still mooning them “—cut that out!”

Madam Pomfrey watched as Harry pulled the pajama bottoms back to cover his butt, laid his legs down. She left and the screens moved out of the way, leaving Harry in the clear.

“See?” Gia said to Hermione, “I know my boyfriend.”

“So,” Ron asked as he came in, “Are we having sex yet?”

“It’s the Hospital Wing!” Hermione stammered.

“It’s well understood that sex helps recovery,” Ron said, scholarly.

“Where did you learn this, Ronald?” Hermione asked.

“Dunno,” Ron said, “Figured it’s worth a try.”

Harry laughed.

“And why are you wearing those?” Ron asked, his eyes glanced at the pajamas.

“I was made to,” Harry said, pulling at the collar, “Won’t let me sleep naturally.”

“Rotten luck,” Ron said, “Here.”

Ron moved the privacy screen back into place.

“Thank you,” Gia said as she sat on the bed. She reached for the top button.

“You wouldn’t believe how itchy these are,” Harry said.

Gia undid the buttons for the pajama top, pulled it apart, exposed the chest. She plied, massaged his shoulders.

“What are you doing?” Madam Pomfrey asked as she came in, between the screens, “I knew something was up—OUT!”

“These were uncomfortable,” Gia said.

“It is the minimum standard of dress in the Hospital Wing,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Mr. Potter needs a good night of rest, so leave!”

“He sleeps better with me,” Gia said.

“OUT!” Madam Pomfrey ordered.

“Best to do as she says,” Harry said.

Ron, Hermione, and Gia left the Hospital Wing.

“Thanks for trying,” Gia said to Ron.

“Not surprised,” Hermione said, “His mind’s always parked there.”

“Hermione,” Ron grumbled.

“It is, isn’t it?!” Hermione stammered.

Hermione ran ahead. Ron and Gia made their way to Gryffindor Tower, entered. Hermione was standing at the foot of the stairs to the girls’ dormitories. Ron and Gia started for these.

“You’ve got no business up here tonight,” Hermione said to Ron, “Unless you’re picking up another.”

“Can we enlarge your bed?” Ron asked.

“Show her Harry’s!” Hermione exclaimed, “It’s empty!”

Hermione stormed up the stairs. Ron and Gia went up to the sixth year boys’ dormitory.

“You don’t know when to quit, Weasley,” Seamus said; he shook his head as he left the dormitory.

Ron stripped, climbed into his four poster, laid on his right side. Gia removed her clothes, a bit slower, crawled in front of him, laid with her back against Ron’s chest.

“Could take you back to your bedroom,” Ron whispered.

“Harry’s here,” Gia said.

Gia pushed backward, Ron’s soft todger pressed against her back, and she grabbed his buttock. She moved her hand, pulled Ron’s thighs until they met hers.

“Harry’s bed?” Ron whispered.

“No,” Gia said. Her hand fiddled with Ron’s todger, massaged it hard into her backside. “Want him.”

Ron came to understand it, Gia and Harry hadn’t slept apart in ages, none of them really hadn’t; Gia was using Ron as a surrogate, and Ron accepted it. He reached around, cupped and held her breast.

“Sorry if I got you into trouble,” Gia whispered.

“Do it again,” Ron said, “You’re daring, likely why you’re a good fit for Harry.”

Gia began to snore, Ron held her until fatigue took him over and fell to sleep.

Chapter Text

Hermione entered the Hospital Wing, wearing her pink jumper and blue jeans, came to Harry’s bed. Harry was curled on his right side, teeth chattering. His bare butt exposed from beneath the blanket, the pajama bottoms laid torn into pieces on the floor. Hermione sat down, pulled up her right sleeve, and reached with her right hand, delving underneath the blanket; she felt along the groin, reached his pubic, and found his soft penis. It was damp, a bit further, and held her finger against his slit, her hypothesis confirmed as she felt the warm liquid dribbling past. Hermione grabbed her wand with her left hand, summoned a white towel, and stuffed the towel under the blanket in front of Harry’s groin, pushed it against his penis, soaking in his urine. She pulled the blanket, covered his bare butt as Madam Pomfrey came over.

“This patient—” Madam Pomfrey said.

“He needs friends too,” Hermione protested. It was the truth, even though she was helping to cover up that Harry was wetting the bed.

“Then behave,” Madam Pomfrey said, before returning to her office.

Hermione’s hand went for the chest between the open top of the pajamas, held the soft tissue, not as defined as Ron’s but Harry was still her friend. She couldn’t shake it out of her head, having seen Ron shagging Gia. Hermione heard the chitter from Harry’s teeth subside, the eyelids started to flutter.

“Oh,” Harry said, his eyes briefly opened.

“Toying with me?” Hermione asked.

“No, thought you were Gia,” Harry replied.

“Could do Ron, heard he’ll do anything that’ll move,” Hermione said, “Or doesn’t move.”

“What’s happening now?” Harry asked, sitting up.

“Him…Gia…” Hermione muttered.

“Oh, they banged?” Harry said, “Should tell him it’s alright.”

“You’re not helping by endorsing it!” Hermione said.

“We’re not property, nobody owns us,” Harry said, “That includes Gia, that includes you. We’re in this together, you, me, Gia, and Ron. The only way you’ll be left behind is if you want to be left behind.”

Hermione shook her head.

“And what’s this doing here?” Harry asked, pulling out the stained white towel.

“Wouldn’t know, maybe Madam Pomfrey?” Hermione lied. She knew Gia said nothing either, one of those things best left alone.

“Maybe Ron should do Gia a bit more,” Harry said, “Show that he still cares about you.”

“Funny way to do it,” Hermione replied.

“Care to sneak me out, you know, so we can check up on them,” Harry said.

“I agree with Gia here, you’re staying put,” Hermione said, resting her right hand on his stomach, “Teach you for playing with rocks.”

“I wasn’t playing with them,” Harry said, “They fell onto me.”

Harry brought his feet toward him, lifting his legs, the blanket moved upward; Hermione saw the black pubic hair, and the soft dick resting in it. Harry’s fingers held it upright, waved the todger around; Hermione watched.

“Point of the hike was for Gia to play with this,” Harry said, “All weekend long.”

“Of course,” Hermione said.

“Go ahead, do you good,” Harry said.

“You just want somebody to play with it,” Hermione said.

“That too,” Harry said.

“You and Ron are just alike in that regard,” Hermione said.

“So what?” Harry said, “Share my toy with my friends, want me to do something?”

Hermione reached, held the softness, teased the foreskin. Harry’s dick stiffened.

“See?” Hermione said, her hand massaged the hard cock.

“You can trust that we all love you,” Harry said, “Ron gets hard, I get hard, and Gia—what do girls do together?”

“Use your imagination,” Hermione said.

“Its just not good to keep secrets,” Harry said, “It’d destroy us.”

“Like this is a secret,” Hermione said, her right hand still massaging, stroking Harry’s hard erection..

“I’m not keeping it from you,” Harry said, “I don’t mind.”

“Of course you don’t,” Hermione said.

Harry breathed deeply, exhaled, as the first salvo launched; his off white sticky semen poured out, pooling into his pubic hair.

“Ta!” Harry said.

“I’m sorry—” Hermione started.

“No secrets, remember?” Harry said as he drifted back asleep.

Hermione summoned another towel, placed it over Harry’s crotch, rolled him over, and drew the blanket.

“So that’s what you needed to talk to him about,” Ron said, entering the Hospital Wing.

“I—” Hermione stammered.

Gia came over, sat on the bed with Harry, stroked the earlobes.

“Come,” Ron said, extending his hand to Hermione.

Hermione took the hand; together, Ron and Hermione left the Hospital Wing, went outside. A bit of the morning sun pushed away a bit of the fog as they came to the shore of the lake.

“I understand,” Ron said, “I’m okay with it.”

“You and Harry both think with your dicks!” Hermione snapped.

“He explained it to me,” Ron said, turning to face her.

“Oh, the open fuck policy?” Hermione asked.

“That he wants us all to be friends, be his family, more of a four–way relationship,” Ron said, “I’m on board with it even. Sure, I don’t really know what I’m getting into, but I trust Harry. You trust him too, or we wouldn’t be talking.”

“You’re confusing things,” Hermione said.

“Maybe I would’ve noticed how beautiful you can be even without us hanging out with Harry,” Ron said, “But it certainly helped. And as he’s not wanting us to be blind, we ought to go in eyes wide open.”

“You like rationalizing it all!” Hermione said.

Ron grabbed, held her hands.

“Hermione,” Ron said, “His is a dangerous idea, but a worthy one. Do you love me? Harry? Gia?”

Hermione snorted.

“Maybe,” Hermione said.

“Would you be standing here if you didn’t?” Ron asked.

“No,” Hermione said, giving a bit of a grin.

“I love you, I love Gia, and I even love Harry,” Ron said, “Harry’s idea is simple, an open relationship, between you and me, and them. We need to explore and drop the jealousy; like you teasing Harry, I’ve learned to be fine with it. I’d like you to be fine if me and Gia do something too.”

Hermione glared.

“You are not being left out,” Ron said, “I still love you.”

Ron pulled Hermione close, they hugged.

“You didn’t by chance lick the honey from Harry’s todger?” Hermione asked.

“You go first,” Ron said.

Hermione snorted.

“He did suggest a reason why,” Ron said, “You think You–Know–Who’s given up?”

“No,” Hermione said.

“Harry thinks we all ought to be a bit closer,” Ron said, “I think he’s right.”

Ron kissed Hermione.

Harry woke again late Sunday morning, yawned.

“Good, you’re awake,” Madam Pomfrey said, coming over, “I’ll check you once more.”

“You’re always checking!” Harry grumbled.

“Humor me Mr. Potter,” Madam Pomfrey said, getting out her wand.

“Need more samples?” Harry asked.

“Only if you wish to,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“No,” Harry said, standing of of the bed, he was naked.

“Your pajamas?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“Dunno,” Harry said, “More comfortable without them.”

Madam Pomfrey waved her wand, ran it across Harry.

“All better,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Hagrid stopped by while you were asleep, offered tea.”

“Thanks,” Harry said as he started for the door.

“Use these so you don’t walk around starkers,” Madam Pomfrey said, handing him a clean pair of pajamas.

Harry put these on, continued. Bare foot after bare foot on the marble, Harry went out of the castle. He stayed just off the path, slipping his feet between the blades of the grass; which started as worn but became more lush as he came to Hagrid’s Hut.

Knock! Knock!

“Been wondering if yeh forgot where I live,” Hagrid said, “Won’t tell them a patient’s missing. Come in.”

Harry left his pajama top unbuttoned and open as he came into Hagrid’s Hut. Gia, Ron, and Hermione were already sitting around the table; Fang was laying beneath their bare feet. Harry went for Gia, wrapped his arms around her, kissed.

“Hagrid’s a teacher,” Ron said to Harry, “Don’t bang her in front of him.”

Hermione shook her head.

“Mind giving Harry a moment to bang?” Ron asked Hagrid.

“I’m fine,” Harry said, sitting next to Gia. She slipped her left hand beneath the waist band to his pajamas, held his testicles. Harry smiled as his erection grew below the table. Fang sniffed at Harry’s feet. “Better than fine, now. These pajamas…tried sleeping in them? They itch, they even tugged at my hair when I slept, unless that was you.” He glanced at Gia’s face.

“Your Madam Pomfrey kept tossing me out!” Gia exclaimed.

Hagrid poured tea, passed the cups around. Gia started to work at the treacle fudge with her right hand, while her left worked the pajamas, letting the erection out, between the flaps of cloth, though still hidden below the table from eyesight.

“I told you she doesn’t take kindly to that sort of behavior—” Hermione started.

“Harry’s got a right to it!” Ron said, “Banging is the best medicine there is!”

“She knows yeh well?” Hagrid asked Harry.

“Yeah,” Harry said as she teased his foreskin.

“Really well,” Ron said, “Made him a real wizard.”

“Ron!” Hermione snapped.

“Well, she did,” Ron said, “Like you made me one too.”

Hermione glared.

“How was yer holiday?” Hagrid asked.

“Mmm…mmm…” Gia mumbled, her jaw remaining closed.

“Oh!” Harry exclaimed, seeing her hand with treacle fudge, “Just relax.”

Harry brought his mouth to hers, his tongue moved in, licked at where the fudge had cemented her mouth shut. Gia’s hands moved off the erection, moved beneath the cloth over his hips, letting the dick tap on her as he stayed leaning in. Harry’s tongue kept reaching in, and he enjoyed this way of getting at the fudge.

“Have a piece,” Ron said as he handed Hermione a bit of the treacle fudge.

“As if,” Hermione said.

“We had a wonderful time Hagrid,” Ron said before he started to delve into the details of their trip.

Harry had worked the rest of the fudge from Gia’s mouth, her mouth could move, but it remained. They swapped teacups, listening, filling in, as Ron told the tale. Repeatedly, Gia pushed her left hand against the teacup, held it until it was as hot as she could tolerate, before she reached down and grabbed Harry’s hard cock; Harry winced each time. Eventually their teacups were empty, and Gia still teased, lightly, though they kept it primarily beneath the table, out of eyesight. Harry was not innocent in this, his hand had slipped beneath her pants, felt her clitoris. Ron, though, kept talking, recounting their steps until they reached Charlie’s and the Dragon Colony when Hagrid’s face lit up.

“Yeh saw dragons?” Hagrid asked, “How’s Norbert?”

“Norbert was there,” Ron said.

“Does he remember yeh?” Hagrid asked.

“Think so,” Ron said.

Harry looked at Ron.

“I think Norbert’s the one that charged us,” Ron whispered into Harry’s ear.

“Dragons are magnificent,” Gia said, “Almost as much as Harry.” Harry blushed as Gia pumped his hard cock; Harry responded by pushing his right middle finger into her vagina.

Gia kept the foreplay light, repeatedly touching and abstaining from Harry’s dick, while his fingers kept working her; she had expanded to stretch at his pubic hair, and massage into his testicles, while also keeping watch of Hagrid’s eyes, movements, to keep the play out of his sight as they all chatted for most of the day. They worked to cover the remainder of the holiday including the events after their trip. By early evening, the topic shifted to the dragons Hagrid wanted for class.

“Nothing teaches better an trying to raise te creatures,” Hagrid said, “Especially Dragons.”

“It would be nice to raise them,” Ron said, “Though your hut is not the best location.”

Hermione scowled at Ron, Harry smirked.

“At least a field trip teh see em,” Hagrid said, “Most only seen them during the Tournament.”

“That didn’t do them justice,” Harry said, “Most of the time they don’t behave like that.” Harry sipped at his tea, Hagrid beamed for a moment.

“They only get hostile when yeh try teh bully em like any good creature would,” Hagrid said, “Bullying is the first thing most wizards attempt to do with a dragon.”

“What has Dumbledore said?” Ron asked.

“Haven’t asked him yet,” Hagrid said, “I need things worked out firs’.”

“See?” Ron whispered into Harry’s ear.

“Well, for dragon eggs, we could ask Charlie,” Hermione said, “To raise them, we need to be able to corral them.”

“You, like … have this big stone castle,” Gia said, “There’s gotta be at least one room you could use.”

Hagrid smiled at Gia.

“Sure, Hogwarts can host a lot of dragons,” Ron said, “Good for the winter months, it does get a bit cold in there.”

Gia’s finger slipped along Harry’s shaft, her hand still beneath his pajamas, the bladder nearing full, and he felt the tremor, the spasm, and he slid his hand to pull hers off.

“Um…” Harry said, “Best be going.”

Harry didn’t feel like asking Hagrid for permission to bang Gia right there, instead, best to get Gia home first.

“Yeah,” Ron said, picking up on Harry’s vibe, “They ought to be serving dinner about now.”

“Come ‘gain,” Hagrid said, “Nearly dark.”

“We will,” Hermione said.

Harry moved carefully, put his back toward Hagrid fast, held the button of his pajamas bottoms together so they’d stay up, and left Hagrid’s Hut into the growing dusk; his erection still jutting outward from his pajamas bottoms.

“That explains it,” Hermione said, glancing at Harry’s hard cock.

“I didn’t feel like I should be making a mess under the table onto his floor,” Harry said, “Not very good of house guests.”

“Could just cover it up,” Hermione said.

“Madam Pomfrey’s sizes leave no room for this to be comfortable,” Harry said.

“Here,” Gia said.

Harry turned toward her. Gia fastened the top button of the pajamas bottoms, the erection, his scrotum, still hung out.

“See you at Quidditch tryouts,” Ron said to Harry.

Ron and Hermione made for the front door, while Harry and Gia went for the door beneath Gryffindor Tower.

“Could try to hide,” Gia said.

“You want me to?” Harry asked.

“No, but it is your school,” Gia said.

Harry had already weighed it in his mind, he figured it better to let them swing free, despite the occasional glance as they came across another student. They made it to the seventh floor, entered the tower. A few people glanced at Harry parading his hard erection jutting outward as he crossed the common room, before him and Gia went up the stairs. Harry paused.

“It also gives em an explanation why we’re not going to come back down,” Harry whispered.

They continued, entering the dormitory.

“There you are Potter!” Seamus said, glancing up from his small desk.

“So what?” Harry asked.

“To provide that sample,” Seamus said, “Healer from St. Mungo’s is in the Hospital Wing—”

“What sample?” Harry asked, “What healer?”

“Just need the usual,” Seamus said.

“One urine sample—catch!” Harry said.

Harry wasn’t certain if Seamus had caught on in the brief split second; Harry’s hard cock was already pointed toward Seamus, still sitting, when Harry let the bladder assert control. Harry peeed. Harry’s warm, yellow, jet hit Seamus’s shirt, soaked in.

“Disgusting!” Seamus said.

“It’s my sample!” Harry retorted.

“You’re a filthy animal,” Seamus said.

“Yep,” Harry said, still pissing, “Need my number two?”

“No,” Seamus said.

“Best hurry, that healer wants that shirt,” Harry said as his juet came to a halt.

“Stay right here until I get back,” Seamus said, leaving the dormitory.

Harry pulled off his pajamas.

“Freedom!” Harry exclaimed.

“That—gizmo, works from anywhere,” Gia said, “Why come back here?”

“Because it’s semi–private, and, the Portkey is in the backpack,” Harry said, fishing out his wand and the pin, “Besides, we showed up naked.”

Gia understood, removed Ron’s clothes.

“Underneath his bed is fine,” Harry said.

Gia folded them, put them onto Ron’s trunk.

“Now you’ll just confuse him,” Harry said, “Hold on.”

Gia held the pin, the backpack, as he took his wand, activated the Portkey.

“That was a bit mean, what you did back there,” Gia said as the Portkey whisked them along.

“Really?” Harry said, “He’s the one insisting I submit to perpetual examinations! He deserved it.”

They landed in her bedroom, in Noigate. Gia stumbled, Harry caught her, as shouting came from outside the bedroom door. Harry and Gia glanced at each other; Gia shrugged.

“Why the fuck—” Andy shouted.

“And your—” Richard yelled, cutting Andy off.

“did you lock—” Andy retorted as she returned the favor.

“concern is—” Richard shouted.

“their DOOR!?” Andy shouted.

Harry jiggled the knob, found it to be indeed, locked. Gia sat on the bed.

“SO?!” Richard exclaimed.

Harry disengaged the lock.

“KEYS for your thieving accomplices—!” Andy snapped.

Harry sighed as he opened the door. “Mind keeping it—?!”

“See?!” Richard pointed at Harry.

Harry quickly assessed Richard and Andy, neither planning to leave the house. Andy had on a bra, and just her bra, leaving her shaved pubics plainly visible. While Richard apparently found a pair of boxers, for he was wearing a red pair. Andy’s eyes flickered for a moment, studied the hard erection that Harry was sporting, with the loose testicles, before her glare returned to Richard.

“Headline—ASSHOLE’s ASSHOLE SPEAKS!” Andy snapped.

“Jackass!” Richard snapped.

Richard went for Gia’s door; Andy lunged and ripped off Richard’s boxers, his partially engorged circumcised penis hung forward.

“Careful you arse kiss—” Richard yelled.

Andy kicked from behind Richard, her foot came up swift, it went right between his legs, impacting his testicles.

“Oww—” Richard tumbled into Gia’s room, laid on the floor on his back, while he clutched his balls beneath the partially aroused statue.

“Bloody bullocks!” Harry exclaimed as he closed the door.

Richard locked the door.

“Sorry, she’s got some fetish with seeing my arse,” Richard said.

Harry grabbed his wand.

“Can’t escape—!” Andy banged on the door.

A small spark from the wand, a black mark on the door as the curse passed through onto Andy.

“Shit!” Andy slammed the bathroom door shut.

“Ta,” Richard said as he moaned for another minute.

Gia moved forward, laid on the bed, head over the foot of it, her eyes watched Richard’s hands still clutching his scrotum. Richard blushed deeply as the circumcised flesh stiffened, the erection jutting up toward Gia.

“Should wash it,” Gia said, “Still, it’s handsome.”

“Glad you approve,” Richard grumbled.

“It is, should flaunt it,” Gia said.

“We were planning on—” Harry started, pointing to his own hard erection.

“We could’ve done it back at Hogwarts,” Gia said.

“Yeah, and get those rumors spread around!” Harry said, “Figured we’d have a chance.”

“You got me worked up,” Gia said, “I’m interested.”

Harry reached down, grabbed Richard’s hand, pulled him up.

“Closer,” Gia said, her hands encouraging Harry and Richard to step even closer, until Harry’s foreskin wrapped tip was above Richard’s pink glans, “Better.”

“She just wants to look,” Richard said.

“She gets that way at times,” Harry said, stepping toward Gia, until his hard cock rested against her nose, “Solve it for her.”

“Hey,” Gia said to Richard, “I wouldn’t encourage you to actually cheat, but you could just toss—”

“Hey,” Richard said, “Mum was furious about Saturday, best talk to her before you two bang, like right now.”

“Hogwarts was quicker,” Harry said.

“Try explaining it to her!” Richard said.

Harry snorted.

“I know you did right,” Richard said, “They’re not convinced, it’d do them good to see you.”

Harry sighed, knew Richard was right, let it overrule the desire of his hard erection, and went out of the bedroom. Richard went to his bedroom as Harry went down the stairs. While Harry enjoyed the free swing of his balls, his cock wanted the attention, so instead, Harry simply held his bollocks as he descended.

“So the rumor is true,” Kristen said. She laid a novel on the side of her easy chair. “You are alive.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, coming near her.

“That’s not going to distract me,” Kristen said, her eyes on his cock.

Harry’s foreskin was moving, retracting and restoring itself, repeatedly, as his glans played a game of peekaboo.

“Oh,” Harry said.

Harry sat on the sofa’s edge facing her still cradling the bollocks that were now over the edge between his two spread legs, his bare feet rubbed Snuffle’s belly.

“How Richard managed to cover up, I don’t know,” Kristen said, “Jen was hysterical. I got that rocks crashed down, nearly killed you, yet you apparently insisted on splitting up, taking off without them, a supposedly broken leg, but it now seems all better.”

“As you can see,” Harry said, “I’m fine now and Gia wants my todger.”

Harry’s foreskin was still sliding back and forth, his dick elicited attention. Kristen glanced at the hard erection jutting forward.

“In every other similar case I’ve heard of, it’s a search and rescue,” Kristen said, “With a corpse being a rather frequent occurrence.”

“Would you have heard about it if the case went the other way?” Harry said, “I knew my choices, and I took the one that got me to medical attention the fastest.”

“How?” Kristen said, “It was serious enough to worry Jen, and in my experience, the sanest option would’ve been to stay put while she or Richard went for help.”

“Didn’t think I’d worry her that much,” Harry said.

“Jen does, it’s one reason she and Richard click,” Kristen said, “I do want to know how you made it out, both personally and professionally.”

“I just managed it, that’s all!” Harry said, “As you can see, I’m horny as fuck because I haven’t been able to bang Gia for a while. I do have school tomorrow, so can I go now?”

Kristen studied Harry for a moment, clearly debating. Her eyes also scrutinized the erection that Harry seemed so keen on showing her.

“I suppose I’m going to have to trust you, especially as you’re now an adult, with the responsibilities of being an adult,” Kristen said, “However, do understand that I do care about those living under this roof, I’ve let Gia and you into my heart.

“Good night,” Harry said as he stood up.

Snuffles followed Harry up the stairs, into the bedroom, where Gia was now on her back, feet toward the door. Hedwig hooted as Harry pushed the door until it was nearly closed, but he turned around to the bed, and Sirius was standing there.

“Sirius,” Harry said.

“I’d like to know too,” Sirius said, “I can hear just fine as Snuffles.”

“Was going to tell you, honestly,” Harry said, “We went to the Hospital Wing.”

Sirius took a moment.

“If you don’t mind, my dick wants to get used,” Harry said, pointing to his hard cock, “And Gia here wants to use it.”

Gia nodded, her eyes were on it. Harry climbed on the bed, moved down so he could still see Sirius, but his head near Gia’s crotch, on his hands and knees, straddling so his balls were over her face. Harry began to lick around the labia, with a touch of stubble on the skin.

“Sane, but in front of muggles?” Sirius said, “These muggles seem smart enough to catch onto things! And will you cut that out!?”

“No,” Harry said, “Madam Pomfrey didn’t seem to even like the hint I’ve got a girlfriend.”

“That’s besides the point!” Sirius said.

Harry pushed, was upright above his knees, but his legs straddling Gia as he glared. His loose testicles hung loosely between his parted legs, the hard erection jutting forward.

“I went on that hike so we could do this!” Harry said, “Instead, I spent most of it with Madam Pomfrey. I’m finishing what I started! If you wish to lecture, go ahead, but I’m going to be banging!”

“It was only a small scratch,” Gia said. Her hands latched onto and held Harry’s balls, massaged into them.

“Nothing is small or minor with you Harry,” Sirius said, “Everything is significant.”

Harry shook his head.

“You may want to be average,” Sirius said, “You’re not—”

“What…?!” Richard stammered as he came quickly through the door, he was still naked, though with a soft penis.

Harry moved fast, leaned back against the door, wand in hand. Sirius froze, but returned the look to Richard. Color drained from Richard’s face, his wide hazel eyes were fixed and glazed.

“You’re…you’re…” Richard muttered.

“I was about to bang Gia, but that evidently has to wait,” Harry grumbled, his hard erection looming forward.

“A memory charm would be in order,” Sirius said.

“No!” Harry said, “We’ll explain—though—” Harry put his wand against Richard’s penis “Don’t do anything hasty.”

“Are you mad?” Sirius exclaimed to Harry.

“Would you mind?” Richard said, “Mum’d freak out if she knew the number one most wanted criminal is in her house!”

“Keep your cool,” Harry said, pulling the wand away from Richard, “I don’t want to risk a Memory Charm even though you did see me use the Portkey.”

“There is a reason for the secrecy decrees,” Sirius said.

“It was an accident,” Harry said.

“Given this family forgets to knock,” Sirius said dryly, “Strong defense there—”

“Just sit, both of you,” Harry said.

Richard and Sirius sat on the foot of the bed. Both turned as Harry went back onto the bed, sat on Gia’s stomach, his hard cock jutting upward.

“Mum’s not just any police officer,” Richard said, “Hosting him isn’t favorable to the career for a chief of police!”

“So don’t tell her!” Harry said. His hands plied into the folds of Gia, teased as he explained, delved into the affairs of Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. “Sirius Black is innocent, totally innocent, and my godfather. Can I please bang now?”

Richard choked for a moment.

“Tops Ant’s shoplifting,” Richard said, “Still, you let him in!”

Harry sighed. “I’ve been hard for hours!” He groaned. “Sirius is Snuffles, literally.” Harry explained the Animagus transformation.

“Tall tale,” Richard said as he snorted.

Sirius transformed. Snuffles sniffed at Richard’s bollocks.

“Now that’s just not right,” Harry said.

“And you’re naked with it all—” Richard started, pointing at Harry’s hard erection.

“Enough!” Harry exclaimed, “Over there!” Harry pointed.

Sirius and Richard moved along the edge of the bed.

“Now watch this!” Harry pointed to his hard cock, “And keep an eye on it!”

Both Sirius and Richard saw the green shimmer.

“It’s the protection I use,” Harry stated.

Harry lifted Gia’s hips, threaded his hard erection into her. He began to flex his hips, to push and pull.

“I don’t get it,” Richard said, “With your emancipation—this isn’t right!”

“What the fuck? And list him as my legal guardian?” Harry asked, pausing himself with his erection inside Gia, “Are you mad?! Blimey!”

“Sirius is here for my protection,” Gia said, “Some wizards want to murder Harry.”

“We’ve got nasty wizards, ones who’d want to see Harry here, dead,” Sirius said, “Gia—you can see Harry’s got his hooks into her—would make for an excellent hostage, to lure Harry in.”

“In case you didn’t realize it, I am interested in Gia,” Harry said, his hips flexed again, his skin remained still as the shaft slid.

“Mum’s important!” Richard said, “She could assign—”

“This is out of her league,” Sirius said.

Knock! Knock!

“At least somebody knocks,” Sirius whispered before he transformed.

“Five minutes, maybe even just one, one minute,” Harry grumbled as he stopped his thrusting.

“Richard, Gia,” Jen shouted, “Can I come in?”

“Swear!” Harry pointed at Richard, “Swear you’ll tell nobody.”

“I swear,” Richard replied.

“That includes Jen,” Harry said, “Don’t tell her either.”

“I swear!” Richard exclaimed.

“Good,” Harry said, “Lemme have some peace with Gia!”

Richard opened the door, Jen came in.

“Oh,” Jen said, to Harry, “You look well.”

“Yeah, watch!” Harry exclaimed, “Over her—” Jen moved with his finger “—seem my dick?!”

“Now’s not a good time—” Jen started.

“Yes it IS!” Harry snapped, his patience at an end, having been ready for hours.

Harry drilled, hips flexed, pushed his cock as he knew she liked it; however, his hard cock was even more impatient, insisted on going first. Harry pulled out. His first shot moved fast, sailed past Gia’s head, the rest in between, until he was still dribbling just above her clitoris.

Hoot! Hedwig’s eyes focused on Harry.

“Thank you,” Harry said to Jen.

Harry turned over, sat.

“As you can see, he’s doing quite fine,” Richard said while Gia wiped a bit of semen from herself.

“No broken leg?” Jen asked.

“Does it look broken?” Richard asked.

“No,” Jen said.

“Clearly he has full drive,” Richard said, “He looks okay.”

“He’s got school tomorrow too,” Gia said.

“Oh, oh, sorry,” Jen said, “Like your bird.”

Jen stroked a couple of Hedwig’s feathers.

“My bedroom before my Mum catches on,” Richard said.

“Yeah,” Jen said.

Richard and Jen left the bedroom; Richard closed the door. Harry laid on the bed, his dick softening.

“You know,” Gia said, “You could lock the door, avoid these accidents.”

“Guess I’m trusting type,” Harry said; he yawned.

Gia moved, sat on his stomach.

“You’re either totally trusting or distrusting to the extreme,” Gia said, “Great for us or your friends like Ron and Hermione, but lousy for defense and precautions. I’ve heard it stated in those defense classes I went to—constant vigilance is the principal lesson. So practice it and lock the damn door! This should be your escape as you want it to be, but you need to protect it. Snuffles helps, but we all must work to protect it. Remember, we’ve got the local Police Chief in the next bedroom, she’d kick us out if she figured out Snuffles. Promise you’ll do this!”

“Alright, alright!” Harry struggled for a moment, wrenched out from beneath her, rolled off the bed. He went past Hedwig’s approving eyes, locked the door, turned off the lights, and climbed back onto the bed.

Chapter Text

Harry chugged down the pot of coffee Monday morning, in the kitchen. Richard drank the other one.

“Good thing Mum guzzles this stuff,” Richard said.

Both were naked. Richard handed Harry a pitcher of water; Harry leaned his head back, poured it down his throat, fast. Richard worked on his pitcher.

“Already have to piss,” Harry said.

“Can you hold it to the door?” Richard asked.

“Think so,” Harry replied.

They put the pitchers down, went across the living room. Gia was at the bottom of the steps, still naked.

“Going for a run?” Gia said, “Take pictures.”

“I don’t have a camera,” Harry said, “And I need to piss.”

“And run,” Gia said, “Maybe I’ll take it up, maybe tomorrow.”

Harry’s soft todger changed its mind, stiffened.

“Uping the challenge?!” Richard stammered.

“Looks like it,” Gia said, touching Harry’s hard cock, jutting out from beneath his dark pubic hair, “How far do you think you’ll get?”

“All the way back,” Harry said.

“I’d say you’re wrong, but they just don’t seem to like stopping you for it, do they?” Richard asked Harry.

“Come on, lets go!” Harry said.

“I’d wager it’s Harry,” Gia said.

Richard and Harry left the house, both dicks hard.

“No foreskin either,” Richard said.

“Done,” Harry said, retracting his, so the slit and pink glans was showing, like Richards.

“What’d she mean?” Richard asked as they began to run, their bare feet hit the pavement. A pair of hard rights, and they took the cross trail next to the house.

Richard’s yellow jet began first, as he pissed as they ran. Harry’s started up.

“Dunno,” Harry said, “I mean, we ought to be stopped like this, shouldn’t we?”

“Bloody hell, YES!” Richard said, “Streaking while streaking, guess they just don’t care.”

“Suppose it could be accidental magic,” Harry said.

“What’s that?” Richard asked, as they casually passed a pair of older ladies walking.

Both ladies glanced at the pissing hard dicks, bouncing around, sending the yellow around in patterns, with the bollocks swinging back and forth.

“As in, I can’t always control it,” Harry said, “Like, if I get really mad, or angry, or something, it just happens, something you can’t explain. I once set a snake on my cousin at the zoo, just once.”

“Stuff just happens?” Richard asked, “Seems dangerous.”

“Like a good football player, I’ve just got my own talent,” Harry said, “We’re similar otherwise.”

“It’s a big talent,” Richard replied.

They came to a halt at the traffic light, waited, but still pissed as the cars drove by, including one police car who simply turned on the windshield wipers.

“Alright, that is freaky,” Richard said.

“Maybe it is as simple as I want to get away with it,” Harry said, “I want to run naked, so it’s happening.”

“Not complaining,” Richard said, “Easier than explaining to Mum why I’m pissing a mile long.”

“With my talents, you get used to weird things happen,” Harry said, “It’s almost more weird for things to go normal.”

The light changed, and they crossed.

“Whatever you want to do, I’m not going for the prunes,” Richard said, “Taking a constant leak is one thing, having the runs…count me out.”

“Me neither,” Harry said, shaking his head.

“It is fun,” Richard said.

“Yep,” Harry said, “Ridiculous, but definitely fun.”

“Can’t take too long, need to get back for a shower and school,” Richard replied.

“Suppose you could always toss,” Harry said.

“Save that for Jen,” Richard said.

“Guess I got to enjoy my bollocks dancing after after spending the summer like this,” Harry said, “Maybe that’s why, better to have them free than couped up.”

“So long have you known…your godfather?” Richard asked.

“Several years,” Harry said, “He’s a fugitive even my world, but nobody will believe me, except for a handful, that we saw the one he supposed to have killed, very much alive, well, and betrayed…my parents are dead because of the treachery.”

“I think you’re doing it again,” Richard said, “We’ve been pissing for miles.”

“Want it to stop?” Harry asked.

“No,” Richard said, laughing.

They took a path through some woods, came near the lake, before turning back around.

“I think I could find my way back on my own,” Harry said, as they both saw the pair of continuous zigzagging went lines.

“It’d dry faster than birds can eat bread crumbs,” Richard said, “But just barely.”

Their thighs flexed, as the muscles stretched and contracted; their hard cocks kept swaying as they ran back to 26 Oak.

“Yeah, I think it’s me,” Harry said. Harry tapped the side of Richard’s erection, it stopped peeing; Harry tapped his own. “At least that appears to have been me.”

“It was different,” Richard said as they entered the house.

Harry went up the stairs, glanced at the time on the alarm clock.

“Shit!” Harry said.

Harry grabbed his wand, Portkey, and backpack, tapped.

Meanwhile, Ron and Hermione left Gryffindor Tower, held hands as they went along, both dressed in their formal slacks and shirts.

“We need a new dress code,” Ron said, “One that’s easier to maintain.”

“You mean you want to go around starkers,” Hermione said.

“Well, I meant girls too,” Ron said, “You know, fairness.”

“Uh–huh,” Hermione retorted.

“It’d make for nice classes if we were all reminded how pretty you are,” Ron said. He took a moment to reconsider. “Sure, your mind shows through, but that shirt tries to hide everything.”

“I think that’s the point,” Hermione said, “Besides, its never really warm enough around here for that.”

“Likely them just being cheap, cut back on the heating,” Ron said, “But, think of how much they’d save on laundry!’

“Write it down and submit a petition,” Hermione said.

“Dear Professor McGonagall,” Ron said, pretending to pen a letter in the air, “I hearby request that we change Hermione Granger’s dress code to nothing at all. It’d really improve my concentration to see her starkers all day long. Sincerely, Ronald Weasley.”

Hermione snorted.

“Well, it would,” Ron said.

“Concentration on me, perhaps, but unless you’re suggesting I sit in the front of the class—” Hermione started.

“What a lovely idea!” Ron said, “We’ll just ask Professor McGonagall—”

“Ask me what?” asked Professor McGonagall as Ron and Hermione turned the corner to face her.

“Nothing important,” Ron said, “On our way to breakfast.”

“Which is already underway,” Professor McGongall said, “When you see Mr. Potter, please inform him that I need to see him, it will only take a short while.”

“We will,” Hermione said.

Professor McGonagall headed off, Ron and Hermione entered the Great Hall.

“Your todger must be one confused beast,” Seamus said, starting to leave.

“It’s hanging fine and ready for use!” Ron snapped.

“I didn’t need to know,” Seamus said, leaving.

“YOU ASKED!” Ron retorted.

Hermione pulled Ron to sit at the Gryffindor table.

“He was baiting you,” Hermione said as she sat next to Ron.

“My dick’s just fine,” Ron said, “Wanna check?”

“I’m not give you a hand job at breakfast!” Hermione said.

An owl dropped The Daily Prophet into Hermione’s hands, she opened it, read as she worked through her yogurt.

“We skipped it last night,” Ron said, “It’s underutilized.” Ron grabbed some sausages, ate.

“Not … at … BREAKFAST!” Hermione said.

“Alright, before class?” Ron asked.

“You don’t have time,” Hermione said.

“In class?” Ron asked.

“NO!” Hermione scolded.

Ron sighed when a package was delivered by an owl, to him.

“Read this,” Hermione said, her eyes on the paper, at an article on the back page.

Monday, 2 September, 1996

The Daily Prophet

Potter Fatigue?

Unconfirmed sources indicate that Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, experienced a mental breakdown, having spent the weekend in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry . The school remained silent when I attempted to reach out to verify these claims. Whether this is related to Harry Potter’s sex life has yet to be determined.

“Bloody same codswollop,” Ron said, “Anyways…” He took the note from the brown wrapped package, opened it.

Hello handsome, let this improve the day.

Ron opened the package, lifted the top of the box.


Yellow dust, pollen, billowed out of the box, covering Ron. He immediately smelled the heavy flowered scent.

“What the—?!” Ron stammered.

“Interesting,” Hermione said.

“I smell like a garden!” Ron grumbled, “What was it?”

“I saw this at Diagon,” Hermione said, “It’s intended for a girlfriend.”

“Ha, ha,” Ron said, “I bet you’re involved in this.”

“No,” Hermione said, “Though you’ll be smelling like that all day.”

“Does it wash off?” Ron asked.

“Should,” Hermione said.

“Come, lets bang in the showers,” Ron said, standing.

“It’s way past time to shower,” Hermione said, “You only have fifteen minutes to class.”

“It’s enough,” Ron said, “See you there.”

Ron ran. He ran up the corridors and stairs, huffing as he came to Gryffindor Tower, and kept running, striping as he ran up the spiral stairs. Ron was naked when he entered the dormitory, his erection was hard and stiff; and a simple brush of his hand against his glans meant the chore had to be done before class. Ron began to stroke his shaft as he entered the shower; Harry was already there, under the other shower head, beneath the hot water, soaping himself up. Harry was also stiff, but was washing himself.

“Good morning,” Harry said as he rinsed, “Should probably do the same. Though, are you wearing perfume?”

Harry stopped the water, his own hand curled on his cock, began to stroke.

“Hermione wouldn’t—” Ron said, “Think she gave me whatever threw it on me.”

“Don’t mind us, just two boys tossing in the shower,” Harry said, “I was hard up too, sometimes gotta bite it and do it yourself.”

“It’d be faster if she—” Ron said, “Mind?”

Ron made no secret, turned his head enough to survey Harry’s body; hard erection jutting outward from beneath the black pubic hair, the loose testicles hanging beneath, the foreskin slipping with the grip. Ron had long been accustomed to seeing it, of course, especially with their summer trip, however, the memories of Harry blowing him were enough to stimulate.

“Ready?” Harry asked.

Ron could see it in the hand, Harry was now pacing, wanted to make a juvenile game of it. Ron took a moment, studied Harry’s warm bollocks hanging freely and swaying with Harry’s slow strokes. It ensnared Ron’s senses, welling up a surge of pride as his cock decided to make the show, felt the urges really build up.

“And—” Ron started.

“Hi ya!” Colin Creevy said, standing a few feet away with a camera in his hands.


Harry started to turn toward Ron, while Ron turned toward Harry, both working to put their buttocks toward the camera. However, their cocks had other plans.


Harry’s slit widened first, the white shot out. Ron’s salvo began to fire. They were out of time to react, facing each other, as they traded semen. Ron’s mess drenched Harry’s black pubic hair, while Harry’s coated Ron’s hard cock.

“Eww,” Colin said, “Just wanted a couple of shower shots for Ginny.”

“Looks like Harry’s girlfriend is safe,” Seamus said, also seeing Harry and Ron in the shower.

“Freak accident,” Ron said.


“Yeah, right,” Seamus said, “Sure it was.”

“Get the fuck out of here!” Harry said to Colin, “Take pictures of Ginny!”

“She’s my sister,” Ron said to Harry.

“Alright, alright,” Colin said, “Got what I came for.”

Colin and Seamus left.

“Sorry about that,” Ron said, “He’s a bit annoying.”

Harry turned the water back on, washed the semen out of his pubic hair, worked on his dick. Ron lathered up.

“Wasn’t expecting that,” Harry said, “Still, don’t fret.”

“Yeah,” Ron said, “I only got it onto you.”

“Not like we’ve never sucked on it,” Harry replied.

“Likely won’t be the last time,” Ron replied.

Harry handed a white towel to Ron, before getting one for himself. Ron followed back into the dormitory, drying his hair.

“Another place and it’d be fun,” Harry said, glancing at Ron’s todger before it was covered up by the boxers. Harry got dressed. “Still, if I’ve got to take seed, yours will do fine.”

“No harm, except for Colin’s camera,” Ron said.

“He knows better, right?” Harry said, “I hope so, or we’re screwed.”

Both dressed, they left the dormitory.

“What’s the class?” Harry asked.

“Um…” Ron said, “Potions, I think.”

They ran.

“Ten points each for being tardy,” Professor Snape said, “And five points each for failing to comb your hair.”

“Easy,” Ron whispered to Harry, “Think of Quidditch.”

“Quiet down, lover boys!” Malfoy said to Harry and Ron.

“Quidditch,” Ron whispered.

Harry and Ron moved toward Hermione, who was at a table with Parvati Patil.

“Two at a station,” Professor Snape said.

Harry and Ron went to the empty cauldron, studied the notes on the board, and began to get out their ingredients.

“Isn’t tossing off supposed to fix things?” Ron said to Harry, “I’m hard as a rock.”

“Not here,” Harry said.

Ron, though, didn’t feel the same urgency as Harry. Instead, all Ron could really think about was whether Harry was also hard, though he knew Harry’s trousers would not show it.

“Next ingredient,” Ron said, misreading the board, “Se–cum, your semen Harry.”

“What?!” Harry stammered.

“Sorry sea–cucumber,” Ron said, blushing a bit, “You already gave the former.”

“As did you,” Harry said, bringing the chop blade down onto the leathery creature.

“It’s not like that’s my fault,” Ron said, “Your eyes, those green eyes, are charming.”

“Thank you Ron,” Harry snapped, aggravated.

“Keep your conversation on topic,” Professor Snape said to Harry and Ron, “Ten points, each.”

“By the way,” Ron said, leaning in to Harry, “Nice butt.”

“Stop it,” Harry retorted.

“Well, it is,” Ron replied.

Ron couldn’t explain it himself; he had seen Harry’s bare buttocks all summer long, but now, in Potions, they were desirable, intensely desirable.

“Focus on the potion,” Harry said.

Several times Ron felt his hand feeling his own hard erection beneath his trousers, which caught some glances and giggles from those around; however, only the stares from Professor Snape kept Ron from actually whipping it out. At the end of lesson, they poured a sample of their red potion into a beaker, set it onto Professor Snape’s desk. They returned to clean up.

“Good job,” Harry said, about to give Ron a high five.

Ron, however, reached around, patted Harry on the butt.

“No credit,” Professor Snape said as he tapped the beaker on the desk. It caught fire. “That is not a Blood Potion.”

“It’s not the only thing that’s hot, is it Potter?” Malfoy asked.

“Come on, hold hands!” Seamus shouted to Harry and Ron.

Hermione followed Harry and Ron out of the Potions Dungeon.

“Sorry I couldn’t help you,” Hermione said, “Parvati insisted, and she does need some help with her potions too.”

“It’s alright,” Ron said, “Come to the bathroom with us.”

“Wasn’t keen to advertise,” Harry said.

“It’s lunch and we need to make room first,” Ron said, “Be ready when it comes to helping Oliver Wood.”

“That’s just me,” Harry said, “One lesson only.”

“I know,” Ron said, “Good to help teach, those first years are getting something special.”

Ron studied the green eyes, green eyes trying to work out what Ron was thinking. Ron led the way to the second floor girls bathroom.

“Some things never change,” Hermione said, “I need to talk with Professor Lupin.”

“He doesn’t need to use this bathroom, does he?” Ron asked.

“No, he was checking that package you got earlier,” Hermione said, “Enjoy.”

Harry and Ron entered the bathroom. Ron immediately unzippered his fly, let the erection fly out.

“Hello Harry,” Moaning Myrtle said.

“Hello,” Harry said, going for a cubicle.

Ron followed.

“There’s plenty of others,” Harry said.

“We’re used to sharing,” Ron replied. He knew he was hard, because this was Harry, Harry was making him hard.

“I need to take a dump!” Harry quipped.

“Good,” Ron said, “I’ve seen that before.”

Harry dropped his trousers, and squatted on the toilet with his shoes on the rim of the toilet. Ron assisted Harry, removed the trousers from Harry’s feet, hung them from the hook on the open cubicle door.

“Close the door,” Harry said.

“Nah, nobody comes in here,” Ron said, dropping his own trousers and boxers to the ankles.

Ron glanced at the soft todger hanging there, between Harry’s legs. Ron, however, pushed on Harry, pinning Harry’s back to the wall. Ron glanced down at the pouch of the bollocks, the anus now bared beneath as Harry’s back was curved, the butt hanging to aim toward the toilet. Ron leaned in, held the pouch with both hands, brought his lips to Harry’s.

“Ron!” Harry said, “I have to take a shit!”

“Go ahead,” Ron said, standing back up.

While Harry could only see Ron’s hard erection jutting in front; Ron watched Harry’s anus, watched it dilate open.


“This turning you on?” Harry asked.

“You’ve blown me before,” Ron said, “I wanna see this. I’ve just gotta take a piss, wanna aim my todger for me?”

“You’re horny as a toad!” Harry said.

“Finally felt the effects today,” Ron said, “Feels good.”

Ron aimed his dick, pushed down, began to piss between Harry’s legs. Harry watched the yellow jet through.

“Besides, thought you and Gia had a fetish for pissing,” Ron said.

“I do, but—thanks a lot!” Harry said.

Ron watched the soft sausage stiffen before the anus began to dump. Ron smelled the gas that came with it, watched as the brown logs came out, as Harry took the shit. Ron aimed his dick, pissed onto the floaters.

“Satisfied?” Harry asked.

“Things left to be done,” Ron said.

“Meaning?” Harry asked.

“Find out,” Ron said.

Ron reached, pulled, and lifted Harry’s legs, hooking the legs over the shoulders, while Harry’s head rested on the back of the toilet seat. Ron brought Harry’s buttocks toward Ron’s erection.

“You’re not—are you?” Harry asked.

“You’ve blown me,” Ron said, “Lets try this.”

Ron felt the tight squeeze, tried several times, working until his hard cock pushed into Harry’s dirty anus. Ron felt the slime and the warmth, flexed his own hips to move his erect dick, the skin held in place as the shaft squeezed past the opening.

“My, we are being naughty, aren’t we?” Moaning Myrtle said, smile on her face, now watching.

“Yep,” Ron said.

Ron felt Harry’s testicles bounce against Ron’s abdomen, Harry’s erection wobbled with the motions.

“Should’ve asked,” Harry said.

“I know you’re after this!” Ron retorted.

“Harry! Ron!” Hermione said, coming into view, “What—?!”

“You said I should find other ways to relieve—” Ron started.

“Didn’t mean this!” Hermione said.

“That would confirm our theory,” Professor Lupin said, a few steps behind.

Ron pulled out, let Harry down.

“What theory?” Harry asked, reaching for the toilet paper.

“That package, the one that Ron got this morning,” Hermione said, “It was no ordinary perfume. When you add water, it becomes a very powerful aphrodisiac, and given that the first thing you did was to take a shower to wash it off—”

“Which appears to be working,” Professor Lupin said, “Along with an enticement.”

“That’s why I wanted to bang Harry?” Ron said, “He’s simply beautiful!”

“Given the rumor that I heard that you two are gay,” Hermione said, “Somebody played a very cruel prank on you.”

“I had to send Colin Creevy to the Great Hall for lunch,” Professor Lupin said, “He was ready with his camera as we approached.”

“Damn!” Harry said as he continued to wipe his arse.

Ron moved over to the sink, proceeded to wash his erection.

“We’ll have to try again,” Ron said.

“What are the options?” Harry asked.

“You could go to the Hospital Wing, to try antidotes—it’d be curious to see which one actually works,” Professor Lupin said, “However, I suspect the easier thing is to just let it take its course.”

“Hurts,” Harry said, rubbing his butt.

“Should be easier now that you know what you’re dealing with,” Professor Lupin said, “Choice, of course, is yours.”

“Think I can manage,” Ron said.

“Don’t take it too personally if I spurn your advances,” Harry said.

“I suspect the rest of your day will prove … interesting,” Professor Lupin said.

After restoring their clothes, Harry and Ron left the bathroom, Hermione followed, down to the Great Hall.

“Don’t hold my hand,” Harry said.

“Oh,” Ron said as he removed his hand from Harry’s.

Snickers, whispering followed as Harry and Ron sat next to each other on the bench at the table.

“You know, at times you can be a real pain in the arse,” Harry said.

“A fun pain, I hope,” Ron said.

“I know it’s not your fault!” Harry said, “Still, it ain’t helping quell those stupid rumors about us being gay!”

“Good choice Ron,” Ginny said, “Only bloke who wouldn’t turn you down.”

“Shove it!” Ron belted back.

“That girlfriend trick had us fooled,” Seamus said, “Not for too long Potter!”

“It’s my LIFE!” Harry said, “Just because you’re fucking up your own sex life—”

“Belt it!” Seamus retorted.

“Then LEAVE ME ALONE!” Harry replied.

Harry left the Great Hall, Ron followed.

“Are you sure about this Mr. Potter?” Professor McGonagall asked; it was the end of Transfiguration, Ron and Hermione were hanging in the back of the classroom.

“Yes,” Harry said.

“It is generous,” Professor McGonagall said, “Thank you.”

Harry walked to the door.

“What was that all about?” Ron asked.

“Nothing,” Harry said, “I’ve got Oliver Wood next.”

“Learning to fly?” Ron asked.

“It’s about teaching him to fly,” Harry replied.

They laughed. Harry went fast, up the stairs and corridors.

Harry loved Ron, of course, as a friend. Ron was the twin Harry wish he had, instead, they were best friends. A lover wasn’t what Harry had in mind with Ron despite the occasional fling. Whatever dusted Ron that morning made him very eager. Yet, Harry couldn’t settle with the notion that there’s not a potion or charm that can create love, Ron’s emotions had to come from somewhere—maybe Ron was serious about it. However, given the rumor, a lesson away from Ron seemed like a good idea.

Harry entered the dormitory, stopped for a moment. On both Harry’s and Ron’s four poster beds were giant red hearts stuck to them, along with ribbons, in Gryffindor red and yellow, and pink. Bows and flowers were littered on both bed covers and across the floor.

Harry sighed, stripped off his clothes. At this point, Harry realized the fallacy of the decision he made at Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions , for in years past, he’d wear underwear, just in case. He didn’t want to use Ron’s, in light of the decorations, and he’d have to ask before he’d borrow from the others. He didn’t have time to rummage back at Noigate. So, Harry crossed his fingers as he put on his Gryffindor Quidditch robes. Harry opened the window and jumped out into the cold overcast day. Harry mounted his Firebolt as he fell, regained control, and headed for the Quidditch Pitch.

“You know there’s such a thing as walking,” Oliver Wood said as Harry landed in the middle. Oliver adjusted his dark sweater.

Surrounding Oliver were a bunch of Shooting Stars and a bunch of younger first years. Eyes focused on Harry, and the bare chest exposed down to his naval between the unbuttoned top of his Quidditch robes. Harry immediately understood the disadvantage of the lack of underwear, the coldness of the day caused his nuts to chill up, he felt them pull inward, though his dick seemed to enjoy it, stiffening. Harry was grateful that it didn’t show through the robes.

“Are you the Harry Potter?” asked a tall young blond hair boy in Hufflepuff clothes.

“Yes he is—that’s Buck?” Oliver asked.

“No, it’s Gale,” the boy said.

“Welcome to your first flying lesson,” Oliver Wood said to the group, “Mr. Potter is a sixth year, so he’ll be assisting me as this lesson typically needs. Stand next to your broom.”

Harry put his Firebolt down, as he saw Wood point.

“Now, command your broom,” Oliver said to the group, “UP!”

A Shooting Star went up to Oliver’s hand.

“Up!” came the chorus.

Half of the students’ brooms went up, the other half stayed on the ground.

“Can we fly that?” Gale asked, pointing at Harry’s Firebolt.

“That is Mr. Potter’s and a performance model,” Oliver Wood said, “It is not a beginner’s broom, which is what you first need to learn to fly.”

Harry walked around, demonstrated to a couple of kids; Oliver did the same. One black haired boy with blue eyes, in Gryffindor, stood, trembling.

“It’s easy,” Harry said, approaching him, “All you have to do…”

“Wha…” the boy said, quietly, before simply moving his mouth, the breath giving a bit of steam in the brisk air.

“What’s your name?” Harry asked.

“Ash,” Gale said, standing nearby.

“Ash,” Harry said, “Just got to be determined, own the broom. Try it.”

Ash mumbled, nothing happened.

“Practice it, like this,” Harry said, before his voice boomed, “UP!”

Two brooms snapped upward; Harry caught one, the other settled back down.

Ash mumbled again.

“Speak up,” Harry said.

Ash shook his head.

“Do you want to fly?” Harry asked.

Ash nodded.

“Okay,” Harry said, “Lets try it again.”

Harry watched the blue eyes twitch, hand stretched, the broom rolled over.

“Grab the broom,” Harry said, “Follow.”

Ash grabbed it, followed Harry. Harry realized why Oliver Wood asked for help, reminded him of that first time he flew, it came natural to him but a foreign skill to most others. Ron, though, had already flown a bit owing to his older brothers. Harry led Ash to the other end of the Quidditch Pitch, turned around.

“Relax,” Harry said to Ash, “You’re here. Let’s learn to fly, just need to get the hang of it. Can you talk?”

“Yeah,” Ash said softly, he trembled, blushed.

Harry’s eyes flickered to the crotch of the boy, the rapidly darkening spot followed by a trickle of him pissing his trousers. Harry figured drawing attention to this would be the wrong thing to do. Harry drew his wand, immediately realized that he had neglected to zip up his top, which explained the cold as he aimed the wand at Ash.

Virtutis!” Harry said, “It means courage.” He knew his magic, emitted a few sparks, along with a discrete cleaning charm. “Gryffindor courage, that’s what you have.” Harry figured he’d need it too if the loose robes gave the slip.

Ash glanced at the wood support to the stands.

“TERMITES!” Ash yelled, “TERMITES!”

Ash ran. Harry flicked his wand, his Firebolt came screaming across the field, and Harry jumped on. He stashed his wand, aimed the broom to go right beneath Ash’s posterior, swooping down. Harry’s arms went around Ash’s torso as the handle flew under Ash, forcing Ash to be right in front of Harry. Harry’s hands gripped the handle in front of Ash, pulled up.

“Hold on!” Harry said.

Ash’s hands roamed backward, seeking something to hold onto, slipped beneath the open chest of Harry’s Quidditch robes. Both hands seemed to reach for the handle, but instead, latched onto the thing hovering inches above it, Ash grabbed Harry’s hard cock.

“Um…um…” Ash muttered.

“It’s alright,” Harry said, “Here.”

Harry made a couple laps of the Quidditch Pitch, staying a dozen feet above the ground, before he came back down to the Shooting Star in the grass of the field.

“Sorry,” Ash said as soon as his hands found the real handle below Harry’s stiff dick.

“Think it startled me too,” Harry said, “Don’t fret.”

“It felt like my frog, Kermit,” Ash said.

Harry blushed for a moment.

“Think you can fly now?” Harry asked, regaining composure, “Willing to give it a go?”

“Yeah,” Ash replied, “Though it won’t work.”

“Courage, remember Gryffindor courage,” Harry said, “Command the broom to come up.”

“Up,” Ash muttered.

The broom turned over.

“Again,” Harry said.

“Up!” Ash said, this time, the broom hovered halfway up.

“Be confident,” Harry said, “It works for you.”

“UP!” Ash exclaimed; the broom rose gradually up to the hand.

“Now, get onto it like so,” Harry said, demonstrating, “And hold the handle.”

Ash trembled, did this, but he began to rise. Ash tumbled, held by his hands to the broom as he rose above the stands.

“TERMITES!” Ash yelled.

Harry, meanwhile, bolted upward, flew fast, grabbed Ash around the waist; Ash let the broom go.

“Let’s get it,” Harry said, as Ash scrambled to sit on Harry’s broom handle, behind Harry.

Ash reached around Harry’s waist, the hands moved beneath Harry’s robes to reach the hard erection, held on. Harry made an easy chase of the Shooting Star , grabbed on, and they returned to the ground.

“Sorry,” Ash said, “I know it’s not Kermit.”

“Try again?” Harry said, “This time—hold onto me and we’ll fly together, side by side, alright?”

Harry put the Firebolt between his legs, gripped the handle. Ash’s left hand reached over, it slipped beneath Harry’s robes as he had before, held onto Harry’s hard cock. Harry did a slow walk, Ash pushed, and Harry rose with him.

“Lets keep it easy, nice and low,” Harry said.

Harry felt a bit awkward, this boy holding the hard erection, the fingers that were feeling as they flew, tracing the ridge beneath, feeling the foreskin. They flew; six feet off the air, but Ash flew.

“Nervous?” Harry asked.

Ash nodded.

“Sorry about the hand,” Ash said.

“Is it helping?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Ash said, “If I thought to bring Kermit to class, I’d use him.”

“I like you,” Harry said.

“Ta,” Ash said.

They made a lap of the Quidditch Pitch, came to land. Ash let go of Harry’s dick. Oliver Wood came over.

“Harry, there’s more than one student in this class,” Oliver Wood said.

“Ash needs practice, but he’ll fly,” Harry said.

“You used all of the lesson for just one,” Oliver Wood said.

“Sorry,” Harry said, “I sorted him out and guess I’ll have to help for the next one, tomorrow, right?”

“That remains to be seen,” Oliver Wood said.

“I’m sorry!” Harry said, catching up with Oliver Wood returning to the students.

“Class dismissed!” Oliver Wood announced.

“I don’t understand,” Harry said.

Oliver Wood stood there until the last of the others walked away. Oliver focused on Harry, bare chest exposed, studied him.

“I’m sorry about having to be harsh,” Oliver Wood said, “I had fifty two students, I was hoping you could handle half of them.”

“Sorry,” Harry said, “Ash was too shy, he wouldn’t even talk.”

“Not uncommon among first years,” Oliver Wood said.

“Do we let one suffer who can use my help?” Harry said, “Sounds like something Professor Snape would do.”

“Hey!” Oliver Wood said, “You’ve mastered the OWLs because teachers were willing to teach. You’re headed for NEWTs, being able to teach is something you ought to learn too.”

“Sorry, didn’t think of that,” Harry said.

“I asked Professor McGonagall for an assistant, you, because it’s fifty two students,” Oliver Wood said, “I’m inexperienced too, so I was able to get you. If you’re going to do one on one, then I need fifty two assistants, and that’s not going to fly.”

“Ash really needed it,” Harry replied.

“I know,” Oliver Wood said, “If you find somebody who needs one on one, talk to me so I can make arrangements. Understood?”

“Yes,” Harry said.

Ron approached the Pitch, dressed in his robes. Others were following.

“And you decided to go for the risque outfit,” Oliver Wood said, hinting to the chest.

“I overlooked a step,” Harry said, “Too late by the time I got here.”

“Bloody hell,” Ron said, “Harry’s got the wrong outfit, supposed to be skin.”

“You’d like me flying naked?” Harry asked.

“Of course,” Ron said, “You’d look gorgeous.”

“Well,” Oliver Wood said, taking the heat away from Harry, “Officially I have to tell you that this is your game, though I’ll answer any questions that you may have. However, I’m required to stay neutral.”

Ron came over, hugged Harry tightly, kissed him on the lips.

“Just a moment, Ron,” Harry said, pushing Ron back, “Got something McGonagall wanted me to give you.”

Harry rummaged in the pocket of his Quidditch robes, pulled out a badge, handed it to Ron.

“Captain?!” Ron asked, snatching it from Harry, a grin came to the face. “W–Why? How?”

“You’re simply the best for Quidditch Captain,” Harry said.

“Harry?” Oliver Wood asked.

“He is,” Harry said.

“I need to discuss this with Professor McGonagall,” Oliver Wood said as he turned around, he left.

“Feels like charity,” Ron muttered.

“Congratulations,” said Josh Brenner, a seventh year Gryffindor who was on the last year’s team.

“Just say ‘Thank You’ and be happy,” Harry said to Ron.

Ron fixed the pin to the lapel of his robes, before he moved in to hug Harry, again.

“New uniform, for you,” Ron said, reaching for the shoulders of Harry’s robes, “Skin.” Ron pulled the shoulders, letting Harry’s robes fall to the ground. Harry’s lack of underwear became readily apparent, he was naked, except for his shoes, his erection still strong.

“So, we’re just going to use body paint?” Harry asked, as a pair of first years took his robes.

“Good idea!” Ron said.

Ron nearly tackled Harry, brought him to the grass, rolled on top of him. Ron felt the nearly retracted scrotum.

“Been out here a while already?” Ron asked.

Colin had his camera out.


Ron rolled to his side, his hand held Harry’s hard cock, posed it from Colin’s camera.


“I came to play Quidditch,” Ginny said, “Not see my brother make out!”

“Ron, cut it out,” Harry said, “It’s that stupid perfume doing it!”

“Oh, yeah,” Ron said, standing up, “That.”

Harry stood up. He looked around for his robes, saw them, as the First Years had taken to setting it on fire. A quick thought, Harry extended his hand, his wand flew out of the robes, escaping the inferno, came to his hand. Harry stashed his wand into the bristles of his broom.

“Rotten luck,” Ron said, seeing the fire.

“You stripped me!” Harry snapped.

“Oh, yeah, you look good,” Ron said to Harry, “Do a bit of flying, take a dump, and it’s a new Bludger.”

“No!” Harry retorted.

“Is this the new uniform?” asked Justin Prewett, coming onto the Pitch, pointing toward Harry.

“He’s trying it out,” Ron said.

“I’ll still be the deputy Captain,” Harry said, “Alright?”

“Yeah,” Ron said.

Harry kicked off his socks and shoes, figured there wasn’t a point to them; though it was cold, the grass on his feet felt better. He briefly considered flying back to the castle, to get something else to wear, but he didn’t want to cut down on their time on the Pitch; thus, he decided to suck it up and stick to the skin. It’s not like Harry was a stranger to being naked, he enjoyed it, especially when they otherwise acted normal, like over the summer.

“Okay,” Harry said, “Since Oliver Wood left them out, everybody grab a Shooting Star .“

Colin took a picture of Harry before he grabbed a broom.

“I’ll use my Cleansweep—” Ginny started.

“No, use a Shooting Star ,“ Harry said.

“Cruel, cruel, Harry—” Ron said.

“Talent,” Harry replied.

“And I run the show,” Ron said, pointing to his Captain badge.

“I need a notebook,” Harry said, “I’ll write everybody’s name down!”

Ron reached into his bookbag.

“Yep, Hermione left it,” Ron said.

Ron handed Harry a spiral notebook, hearts printed on every sheet, and a pen. Ginny was first.

“G..i..n..e..r..v..a..” Ginny said, talking as slow as she could, her hands felt Harry’s hard erection, “W..e..a..s..l..e..y..”

“I know who you are,” Harry said, “And cut that out!” Harry pulled back, yanking his cock out of Ginny’s hands.

Colin came up next. His hands moved the camera, point blank range to the cock, an inch away from Harry’s slit when the flash went off.

“Excuse me?” Harry stuttered.

“You know, pictures,” Colin said. Colin moved the camera faster than Harry could respond, took fast pictures to both sides, above, and below, the hard erection.

“Shove it!” Harry snapped.

“Ginny loves it,” Colin said.

“I know!” Harry said, “Were you going to sign up?”

“Yes, Colin Creevy,” Colin said.

One by one, Harry recorded the names, each person taking a closer look at the genitals, with the thick wild black pubic hair, and the balls that had pulled as tightly to the body as possible.

“Okay, I want to see you all fly!” Ron said.

One by one, the others mounted.

“And Harry, fly behind them so I pay attention!” Ron said.

Harry mounted his Firebolt, flew upward. Ron’s eyes made no secret, kept glancing at Harry as Ron clearly struggled to fight the effects of that powder of the morning.

“Wish I had my Comet,” Justin Prewett said.

“Come on, flying,” Ron said, “From that end—” he pointed at the east goals “—to the other—” pointed to the west ones “—race. Everybody line up.”

They all flew to the east goals; while Ron went to the west.

“GO!” Ron shouted.

Harry flew with the group, out stripped them all, as his Firebolt flew faster.

“You should’ve used a Shooting Star yourself,” Ron said to Harry.

“Alright, extra credit,” Harry said, flying close to Ron.

Ron’s eyes traced Harry’s creases in the front abdomen down to the pubic hair, the hard erection still jutting outward along the broom handle.

“Okay, extra points,” Ron said, “Get your balls—I meant the Quidditch ones.”

Harry flew down to beneath the stand.

“There are most definitely termites in there,” Ash said, standing nearby. Ash was in a more casual sweater than earlier.

Harry grabbed the box, pulled it out.

“The Flying lessons is over for you,” Harry said.

“Curious,” Ash replied, “Still, stay away from the termites.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Harry said.

“Your penis, it’s so big,” Ash said.

“It’s a stiffy,” Harry said, pointing.

“I know, it’s…never seen one like that before,” Ash said, eyes on Harry’s foreskin covered penis, “No wonder I confused it for your broom handle.”

Took Harry a moment.

“Yours will get like this too,” Harry said.

Ash reached, felt the foreskin.

“Definitely not a frog,” Ash said.

“Thank you for that assessment,” Harry said.

“Sorry for grabbing it earlier,” Ash said.

“Did it help you fly?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Ash said.

“Then don’t worry about it,” Harry said, figuring it was better to simply drop the matter.

Harry carried the box back into the middle of the pitch, opened it. All the practice balls were there, numerous Quaffles, along with restrained bludgers and snitches.

“Everybody, warm up!” Ron announced.

Harry stood there for a few moments, watched the others come down and depart with Quaffles. They got tossed back and forth when he felt the hands. Hands that reached around Harry, held his scrotum; the breath was distinctive.

“Ron!” Harry said.

“These things are freezing,” Ron said, his hands vigorously rubbing against Harry’s testicles, “Lemme warm them up.”

Harry couldn’t argue with the logic, his balls were cold, and it felt good to have the warmth seep back into them, the sack loosened to let them down.

“The team,” Harry reminded Ron.

“Of course,” Ron said, letting go.

“How long is this thing supposed to last?” Harry asked.

“Dunno,” Ron said, “A day or two is Hermione’s guess.”

“Next time, avoid packages,” Harry said.

Ron nodded.

“Pay attention!” Josh Brenner snapped at Ron.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ron said.

Harry mounted his Firebolt, flew up, and kept pace between the different potential players. Harry wondered a bit, his erection still firm, he had expected it to soften, but his todger liked to keep the embarrassment factor to an eleven, so he accepted it laying against the handle, grateful for the Cushioning Charm that kept it from rubbing. His testicles retreated again, cleared the way off of the handle.

Ron kept watching it all, taking notes, despite the occasional glances at Harry. Harry kept flying, assisting, as Bludgers flew, and Quaffles soared. Eventually, the sun dipped below the horizon. A whistle blew, as Oliver Wood came back marching across the field.

“We need more time,” Ron said.

“Need tomorrow?” Oliver Wood said, “It’s just a house team, you can always have pickup games.”

“Alright,” Ron said, “I’ll have to mull these over.”

“And you—” Oliver Wood pointed to Harry, “Yes, you!”

Harry flew down, the eyes observing Harry’s natural state.

“Accident, but the game must go on,” Harry said.

“Next time, send for a replacement!” Oliver Wood said.

“I was waiting for it to get dark,” Harry said.

“Get inside!” Oliver Wood said, “I’ll see to a replacement set as you’ve likely outgrown the old ones anyways.”

Harry flew over to Ash.

“Shouldn’t be out here after dark either,” Harry said, “Get on.”

Ash’s eyes lit up, sat on the back behind Harry. Again, Ash’s hands clamped onto Harry’s hard erection.

“Sorry,” Ash muttered, but the grip held tighter as Harry began to fly.

“Lucky,” Ron said from the grown toward Ash.

Harry found himself not caring that this boy was holding the hard cock; if holding the dick gave the boy the confidence to fly, Harry wasn’t going to knock it, instead, Harry decided to embrace it. His penis was sensitive enough to pick up the tremors in the boy’s grip, felt as the boy was trying to work through his anxieties as Harry flew.

“Spooky,” Ash said as they flew above the Quidditch Pitch.

Harry pointed the broom handle down, they began to pickup speed.

“Whoa—whoa!” Ash began to scream, squeezing down tight.

Harry flew past the Whomping Willow, before heading over the lake.

“Shit!” Ash exclaimed.

Harry felt the tremors in his cock being stimulated by the tremors in Ash’s hands. He made a beeline for Gryffindor Tower, for the window, and they flew in. Harry landed. Harry had to sooth his mind, relax it, and managed to stifle the quiver during the extra moment it took Ash to release the grip on Harry’s hard dick. Harry turned around.

“Like flying?” Harry asked.

“Yep,” Ash said, “And sorry for holding your todger.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry said, “You’ll get the hang of flying soon enough.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ash said.

Harry held the door open as Ash left the dormitory.

Ron and Josh Brenner entered a moment later.

“Of course you took the fast way,” Ron said, pulling his Quidditch Robes off, stripped down to his red and white checkered boxers.

“I was naked,” Harry said, “Surprisingly enough, hardly anybody pays attention out of their window, but stroll through the castle and I’ll run into Colin’s camera around every corner.”

“A causal meeting?” Josh Brenner asked, glancing at Harry still naked.

“I sleep like this,” Harry said, “Figured that’s next.”

“Which I’d like to get a start on,” Seamus said, entering the dormitory, “I sleep here too.”

“We need to debate this!” Harry said. He grabbed a dungbomb from his trunk, aiming his wand at it.

“Fine, fine!” Seamus said before his left, “See if the girls would have me.”

“Good idea,” Ron said, moving to stand next to Harry, played with the bulge in his boxers, pulled his soft dick out as it began to stiffen, “Maybe let everybody on the team, skip the meeting.”

“Do you two need to be alone?” Josh asked.

“Lets get this over with,” Harry said, sitting on the end of his four poster.

Ron sat on the floor, his eyesight toward Harry’s genitals, and he pulled out the notebook.

“As I see it, we need to pick four from the thirty one who showed up,” Josh said, “Should I leave this to you two?”

“You’re part of the team which means you get a say,” Harry said.

“Looks like we have two captains,” Josh Brenner said.

“Ron’s captain,” Harry said, “We just know each other well.”

“In more ways than one,” Josh Brenner stated.

“We’ve got Slytherin in eight weeks,” Ron said, “We gotta be good by then.”

Ron flipped the pages.

“Quidditch really turns you on,” Josh Brenner said to Ron.

“So does Harry,” Ron said, “I know, I know, somebody gave me a gag gift this morning, makes me super attracted to him until it wears off.”

“Sorry, didn’t realize that,” Josh Brenner said.

“I suspect it’s Ginny, its the sort of thing she’d do,” Ron said, “Obviously with help from Fred or George. Still, apart from me thrusting myself onto Harry, it’s harmless, and I’ll take it in stride.”

“We’re friends and we’ve had bad days before,” Harry said, “I’ll survive too.”

“What did Madam Pomfrey say?” Josh Brenner asked.

“Didn’t ask her,” Ron said, “Seemed easier to let it run its course than to spend the day with her.”

“Lets get moving,” Harry said, not mentioning that he’d rather be with Gia, pointed to a couple of names, “These two didn’t fly well, maybe next year?”

“Picked up on that?” Ron said, “Josh?”

“Agreed,” Brenner said, “They’re good for cheerleaders, but not players.”

The three took the matter more serious than a Potions final, selecting, weeding down the list. At twenty minutes, they had it down to seven, and the curfew warning sounded when they had it down to five, three solids and two they were wavering between.

“It’s MacDonald or Creevy,” Josh Brenner said.

“Maybe a reserve?” Harry said, “I mean, what if somebody gets sick or something.”

“Good idea, we’ll train them up,” Ron said, “Lets write this down.”

Ron took an empty page and wrote the list.

“One benefit to being reserve is that Creevy always seems to have camera,” Josh Brenner said, “We could use some good pictures.”

“Good?” Ron asked as he held up the list.

“Yeah,” Harry said.

“Yes,” Josh Brenner said.

“Well, see ya tomorrow Harry,” Ron said, heading for the door, “Coming?”

“Just your pants?” Josh Brenner asked.

“Good point,” Ron said, bringing his soft penis back into his boxers.”

Ron grabbed the captain’s pin, moved it to his boxers, and left the dormitory; Josh followed. Harry grabbed his wand, his PortKey, and activated it.

Ron’s red and white checkered boxers flexed with his legs as he came down the stairs into the Gryffindor common room. He blushed as all the eyes went onto him as he pinned the list to the bulletin board.

Ronald Weasley Captain & Keeper
Harry Potter Seeker
Josh Brenner Chaser
Ginny Weasley Chaser
Natalie MacDonald Chaser
Colin Creevy Reserve Chaser
Justin Prewett Beater
Paul Prewett Beater

“As you can see, we have eight!” Ron said.

Mutterings came around.

“There was a lot of interest,” Ron said, “And it’s good to have a reserve, congratulations. Practice starts tomorrow.”

“Ron,” Hermione said, coming up to him.

A couple of cat calls came as Hermione touched Ron’s boxers, her hands delved into the front flap, unbuttoning as she moved close.

“Can we—up there?” Ron pointed.

Ron let his todger hang free as Hermione followed him up the the steps.

“You’re the captain?” Hermione asked.

“Yep,” Ron said, “Captain of the house team.”

Ron dropped his boxers as he entered the dormitory, removed the captain pin from the boxers, affixed it back to his Quidditch robes laying on his trunk.

“I like the new uniform,” Hermione said, giving a couple of light slaps to Ron’s buttocks.

“This isn’t the uniform,” Ron said, turning around.

“Sure it could be,” Hermione said, leaning into Ron, “A bit of body paint and todgers wouldn’t stand out too much. Gryffindor red, and it’ll be a match people would pay attention to.”

“You mean you want to see me—heh,” Ron said, laughing for a moment, “Doubt McGonagall would agree.”

“I think I’ll have to re–read the rules,” Hermione said, “See if the captain has final say to the uniform.”

“I doubt that,” Ron said, “Nice thought though—maybe find a more secluded spot, perform for you?”

“I’d…I’d like that,” Hermione said.

Ron sat on his four poster, watched as she began to strip.

“Gotta admit, I’m thinking Harry right now,” Ron said.

“You’ll get over it,” Hermione said, “Don’t mind giving you a bit of therapy, Captain.”

“You’d like that,” Ron said, “Nice of Professor McGonagall to—”

“Hang on,” Hermione said, reaching for a letter on Harry’s small desk, read it. Ron stood, read over the shoulder.

Dear Mr. Potter,

You are hereby selected to be the captain for Gryffindor House’s Quidditch Team for the following school year. Enclosed is a pin, a symbol of your authority.

Good luck and bring glory to our house.

Sincerely, Professor McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House

“And more damn—OWW!” Ron jumped back as his toe had hit Harry’s trunk.

Hermione spun around, her finger pointed at Ron.

“No wonder you’re still poor!” Hermione said, “You wouldn’t know what to do with a treasure—you’ve got the most precious of treasures, a true friend, and you’re pissing on him! You’ve got friends, friends who want you to be happy, and you have family, a real family, with parents and siblings. Count your blessings Ronald Bilius Weasley! Count your blessings!”

Ron stayed quiet, but trembled a bit.

“Let him win!” Hermione said, “You will both be richer for it, far richer than Malfoy ever could be.”

“Hermione…” Ron started.

She looked him over, the brown eyes studied every square inch, including the soft todger hanging there.

“Heard a rumor that Malfoy’s paying good money—not nearly as good as what you have,” Hermione said, “And he has to pay a fortune to use it—count your blessings.”

“It’s hard for me,” Ron said, “Mum and Dad always proud they were making it, on their own. Fred and George are doing it too. It’s not easy taking a hand–out, taking charity, because it’s insulting, it’s a judgment that I’m not fit!”

“You are fit, that’s why he gave it to you,” Hermione said, “He had to of asked Professor McGonagall—so that’s what he was talking to her about at the end of the lesson! She wouldn’t have agreed if you weren’t capable. Pay Harry back, be the best captain you can be. Thank him—”

“Good idea,” Ron said.

“Just remember he wanted you to be happy,” Hermione said, “He could’ve just as easily kept the position, shown you the letter, and had no arguments. Instead, Harry gave it to you. Think on that.”

“I will,” Ron said.

Ron grabbed his Portkey.

“What?” Hermione asked.

“One favor deserves another,” Ron said, “Be back shortly.”

Ron activated his Portkey.

Harry finished explaining about the package, Ron’s behavior, to Gia as they laid on the bed. His dick had softened for a break, but was already back to a full erection. Light from the candle on the bookshelf gave a flicker of light.

“So, Ron’s got the hots for you?” Gia asked.

“Yep,” Harry said.

Ron appeared as he landed; naked with the pin and wand in hand.

“Hello?” Gia asked.

“I found the letter, the one assigning you as Captain,” Ron said.

“Look, I’ve got fame and glory already! Which includes a fucking gift store!” Harry said, “I don’t want those, but you do; and you know Quidditch way better than I do!”

“Is this—did you go through with it?” Gia asked.

“As I talked about,” Harry said.

“I’m trying to accept it,” Ron said, “Figured I ought to thank you personally.”

“You’re welcome,” Harry said.

“Too shallow,” Ron said.

Ron knelt on the edge of the bed, his dick stiffened as he began to play with Harry’s cock.

“What?” Harry stammered.

“I’m so watching this,” Gia said, moving back enough to give Ron full access to Harry.

Ron climbed onto the bed, laid down, began to kiss Harry.

“You’re under the influence,” Harry said.

“Such a great idea though, why ignore it?” Ron said, “Besides, need to thank you properly for Quidditch Captain.”

Harry wasn’t certain to the best course of action, except to play along with it. Ron had taken his advances before, when Harry was too inebriated to sleep safely with Gia. Harry reasoned he should take it, maybe this was the best way to get the curse out of Ron.

“I love you,” Ron said.

Ron’s hard cock touched Harry’s, Ron leaned down, put their lips together. Ron’s tongue began to explore inside, played with Harry’s tongue. Ron held their testicles together.

“What the—?” Richard asked as he entered the bedroom, blue boxers on, eyes on Harry and Ron.

“Truth or dare,” Gia said, “They lost.”

Harry appreciated the cover up, but getting shagged by Ron wasn’t on his priority list for the day.

“I’ll say,” Richard said.

“Stay if you want a turn,” Gia said.

“No thanks,” Richard said, “It can wait until morning.”

Richard left.

While Harry appreciated Gia’s cover up, and getting Richard to not witness this, getting shagged by Ron wasn’t on Harry’s bucket list.

“I love you,” Ron said, “Really, I do.’

Ron turned around, let his erection hang just above Harry’s eyes. Ron grabbed a comb, worked out the knots in Harry’s pubic hair.

“Keep this up,” Gia said, making no secret of her fingers massaging her clitoris.

Harry’s penis decided it enjoyed the attention, and Harry couldn’t stop his erection. Harry’s golden jet pushed upward, he peed.

“Yum,” Ron said, moving his mouth to catch the stream, his tongue began to lap at it.

Harry’s dick felt more at ease than he did, kept pissing a rich deep yellow. Pugnant, it overcame the musk that could be smelled from Ron’s balls hanging above Harry’s head. As revolting as Harry thought he should be, it became enticing, his dick stayed overjoyed as he kept pissing. For a moment, Gia breathed deeply.

“Keep going,” Gia muttered.

“You like it,” Harry said to her.

“Nice bitter,” Ron said, misinterpreting, “So, yes, it’s wonderful bitter of Harry.”

Ron licked the tip, cleaned to remove the last of the urine, and his tongue explored Harry’s foreskin. Ron’s tongue kept exploring, tossing the balls, as the tongue worked around the hard cock, though he eased back every time Harry started to feel a twitch.

“Don’t let it go fast,” Gia said to Ron.

What spooked Harry the most is he enjoyed it, the attention Ron was giving. They had done a bit over the summer, but this was more devoted, more serious, less just for the other, and more for selfish reasons.

Ron’s tongue moved around, along the ridge of the shaft, to the scrotum. Ron moved forward, pulled Harry’s legs to the chest as he brought his own scrotum to right in front of Harry’s eyes. Every strand of hair, including a mole, Harry could make out on the sack with two distinct lumps. Ron’s chin bumped against Harry’s pouch when Harry felt the wet mass touch his buttocks; Ron began to wipe.

“Excuse me—” Harry griped.

“I know, you didn’t wipe properly last time,” Ron said, “Don’t fret.”

“I wasn’t planning—” Harry started.

“Let him do as he does,” Gia said.

Harry knew it wasn’t a sponge that was touching his arse, it was Ron’s tongue as he was cleaning, licking. Harry’s dick twitched, a quick, dry orgasm, as Ron’s tongue probed further; Harry knew his dick was one touch away from showing its endorsement.

“Ready?” Ron asked.

“For what?” Harry replied.

Ron didn’t answer, instead moved, knelt near Harry’s butt, kept Harry’s legs bent forward, and Ron lifted Harry’s buttocks. It became clear to Harry that Ron was intent on finishing what he had started back at lunch when the hard shaft, Ron’s hard and wide shaft, pushed into Harry’s anus. Ron held Harry’s testicles, leaned forward.

“I love you,” Ron said as he flexed his hips, the dick up Harry’s arse moved.

“Look at the bright side, don’t need to worry about birth control,” Gia said.

“There are Potions Harry to let you get pregnant,” Ron said, “Want one?”

“No!” Harry said.

“Mum threatened Dad once with one,” Ron said, “Dad pointed out those aren’t legal.”

Ron kept flexing, kept drilling. His hands moved to massaging Harry’s pouch, the hard erection. Harry felt the quivers start and Ron pulled out.

“And…” Ron said.

Gia and Ron watched, Harry watched his own cock, as the surge rushed out. It felt stronger than he had ever felt before, the creamy white liquid pulsed out, a strong trail of semen strung itself across Harry’s chest, more pulses shot out, draining the love spuds resting in their pouch. Harry paused, relaxed as the tremors of relief coursed through his body. Still dribbling and oozing, his hard cock began to droop, to soften.

“More?” Gia asked as Ron let Harry’s legs down.

Ron moved forward, straddled Harry, and gripped his own erection. Ron vigorously stroked; Ron’s canon fired less than ten seconds later. Harry saw the squirts sail, onto to join his own sticky mess. Ron immediately began to mix the two together, his and Harry’s semen became a single mess, and Ron’s fingers began to paint Harry’s skin with it.

“Satisfied?” Harry asked.

“Thank you for giving me the position,” Ron said, yawning deeply.

Ron didn’t get a chance to finish his painting, instead, he fell forward, collapsed onto Harry, began to snore. Gia blew out the candle, crawled into bed, pulled the cover over her, Harry, and Ron.

Tuesday morning, Harry and Richard stopped just outside 26 Oak, leaned over, waited for their dicks to stop dribbling; sweat dripping down their skin.

“So, you said you were going another run?” Harry asked.

“No, Saturday,” Richard said, “In London, figured you might be interested, starts at the Globe Theater. I plan be there by seven or so.”

“Ron likely wants to get some practice in,” Harry said.

“Suit yourself,” Richard said.

Together, Harry and Richard entered the house.

“Didn’t think you were serious about the running,” Ron said as Harry entered Gia’s bedroom.

“Got everything?” Harry asked.

Harry grabbed his Portkey and wand, activated; Ron held on. They landed naked on Harry’s four poster bed.

“So I actually did that?” Ron asked.

“Yes, you licked my ass and fucked it!” Harry exclaimed.

“Sorry,” Ron said.

They went into the shower, taking adjacent stalls.

“Though gotta admin, that orgasm you gave me…” Harry said, sudsing up his hair with shampoo, “Hard to describe.”

“Really?” Ron asked, soaping up his washcloth.

“It’s like my balls exploded everything out and it felt…” Harry said, “Everything on, one heck of a good…it was great. Can you teach Gia?”

“You’re welcome,” Ron said, “Just next time, wash your butt first.”

“Like you warned me,” Harry said, “Gia’s never really interested there.”

Flash! Click!

“Blimey!” Harry yelled.

Colin was standing there, camera in his hands, aimed at Harry and Ron. Colin was smiling.

“Not what it seems!” Colin said, stepping backward, fast.

Soapy and wet, Harry bolted first, Ron behind, chased Colin. Colin took the steps back and fell, rolling down the stairs. Colin fell faster than Harry could fly down the stairs. At the bottom, Colin stepped to the side, steadied his camera, but stuck his foot back out. Soap on Harry’s right foot caused him to slip, Harry tripped over Colin’s foot. Harry tumbled, collided; Ron fell; as both of them crashed into Hermione.

Flash! Click!

Colin’s camera repeatedly flashed, taking pictures as fast as the film could handle.

“Ow,” Hermione muttered.

Harry was naked and directly on top of Hermione; Ron laid on Harry’s backside.

Flash! Click!

Applause came from around the room. Ron stood up first, glared at Ginny. Harry pointed as he stood, his glare directed at Colin.

“Cut that out!” Harry demanded.

Colin’s hands moved fast, rescued his dropped camera.

“See Harry’s butt?” Ginny asked.

Harry reached down, lent Hermione a hand, she used it to pull herself up. He glanced at her shirt, the water that was on him was pushed against her breasts, which showed the lack of a brassiere beneath, the nipples were pronounced. Colin’s finger returned to pressing the button on his camera.

Flash! Click!

“What…?” Harry started to ask Hermione, however, realized his exposure in the common room. His soapy todger was faster, stiffening under the watchful eye of Colin’s camera taking even more pictures.

Catcalls, laughter, chased Harry back up the stairs. Ron and Hermione followed Harry back up the stairs.

“Blimey!” Harry complained as he entered his dormitory, “I’d like to have a shower in peace!”

Harry went into the shower. Hermione fidgeted in her clothes, her hands constantly readjusted.

“Um, you okay?” Ron said, “Looks like you got the wrong size.”

“Shouldn’t be,” Hermione said as her shirt got tighter and tighter, “Think these got cursed.”


Seams began to split, tear open as the shirt shrunk, reduced itself to shards of vanishing fabric. Her brassiere shrunk as well, popping the buttons.

“Wait until I finish,” Ron said, went for the shower, “We’ll sneak back over and get you something.”

Hermione followed, all her clothes had fallen off, leaving her naked.

“You’d fit,” Ron said.

“I already took my shower,” Hermione said, “Look, I went through my entire trunk, those were the only thing to fit, everything else was either way too small or too big.”

“Somebody tampered with it?” Ron said.

“Tell me you both know nothing of this!” Hermione said.

“Who’d you take me for?” Ron asked.

“Somebody who’d love to see my wardrobe fall apart in the middle of the day,” Hermione said.

“Hermione, we’d save that for the evenings,” Harry said, rinsing before turning around, “Given Ron’s package yesterday, any chance it’s related?”

“Possible,” Hermione said.

Harry turned off the water, grabbed a large fluffy white towel, dried himself as he stepped out.

“You can borrow something of mine,” Harry said, “If there’s something else, make a list and I’ll fly to your parents’ tonight.”

“Might look less tacky to borrow mine,” Ron said, “You know, instead of explaining why your clothes are marked Harry Potter.”

Ron came out, rummaged his trunk, threw a dress shirt and jumper at her. Harry lent her a spare pair of trousers. They quickly dressed, and went back the stairs, inot the common room, where the entire room filled up with pink ribbons fluttering down; everybody else had apparently already left.

“Any guesses?” Hermione said.

Cards, many cards attached to small pink balloons, came floating down, each one had Adam, Eve, and Steve , written on it.

Harry groaned, and they left the common room.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione returned to the castle after Care of Magical Creatures. Groups of other students kept their distance, giggled or laughed as they glanced at the three.

“Any guesses?” Ron asked.

“Think I can get it with one,” Harry said, “Malfoy stayed strangely quiet.”

“I’m glad I didn’t have to listen to that stupid git,” Ron said.

“It’s the rumors,” Hermione said, “With them, Malfoy doesn’t need to bother creating anything, we’ve heard it all.”

They entered the castle, went to the Great Hall, and sat at the table. Hermione took delivery of The Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly , while Ron helped himself to quite a few sandwiches including a few grilled cheese on tuna salad. Ron flipped open Witch Weekly .

“Well, if you want to remember the shower this morning,” Ron said, spreading the magazine open. Glossy pictures of Harry and Ron were on several pages.

“I’m guessing Colin got his pictures developed,” Harry said, “I took a shower, like I always do. How the bloody hell is that news?”

“A little bug has the juicy,” Hermione said, “Not the front page, mind you, more toward the back.”

Tuesday, 10 September, 1996

The Daily Prophet

A Boy’s True Wish

Salacious sources reveal that Harry Potter, the thirteen year old Boy–Who–Lived, is exploring his confused sexual identity at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry , which remains cloudy to those nearest to him. Mr. Potter has been caught on numerous occasions soliciting unflattering favors from his fellow classmates. Boys are not safe as Mr. Potter has been observed in acts of sodomy that would make his deceased mother less than proud if she were to learn of the truth. Yours truly advises Hogwarts to educate Harry Potter on the facts of life, including the primary truth that a wizard ought to be interested in witches, and to pick one, just one, to dedicate his life to.

“So, you didn’t even tell your best mate you’re sleeping around?” Ron said to Harry, “Next time, invite me along.”

“Ron!” Hermione said.

“I was only joking,” Ron said.

“Well, they seem to have gotten your better side,” Harry said, flipping through the Witch Weekly , “Should ask around to share a bath with a few others, you know, change of scenery.”

Pink ribbons fluttered down from the ceiling, right over Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

“Can we start a rumor?” Harry said, “Something a bit naughtier to get them to think of something else?”

“Sure, piss in the food,” Ron said, “Your favorite thing.”

“Not us, somebody like, say, Slytherin,” Harry said, “Their favourite drink.”

“Strong drink,” Ron said.

“It’d work, wouldn’t it?” Harry asked.

“Too out of there,” Hermione said, “I’ll have work something out during your practice.”

After that afternoon’s Transfiguration, Hermione went for the library while Harry and Ron headed for Gryffindor Tower.

“First day of practice!” Ron shouted.

Harry and Ron climbed the stairs to the third floor, went along the corridor toward the next flight of stairs.

“Got a strategy?” Harry asked.

Faint footsteps echoed underneath their own, they turned down the long corridor that was lined with suits of armor on both sides.

“Have to watch the interaction,” Ron said.

“Teamwork is—” Harry stopped, glanced at one of the suits. “—sup…”

Quidditch left their minds, replaced by the sudden realization that the armor was moving, relocated and were moving to sandwich Harry and Ron between two intersecting fronts. An assortment of all the blades began to hurl toward them.

“Duck!” Harry shouted as he shoved Ron down toward the floor, out of the path of the oncoming metal hail.

Harry began to lunge downward himself, but the first of the daggers punctured and tore into his shoulder. A quick glow of light shimmered across him, levitating, thwarting his fast drop, leaving him in the way as the deadly instruments went to work. An axe bit into Harry’s left bicep, a morning star tattooed itself into his buttocks, a pole arm burrowed through his chest and lung, and a sword hurled itself at his neck.

“Harry!” Ron yelled.

Harry bled profusely as his ragdoll body hit the floor with a sickly thud, he laid motionless in the gathering pool of blood.

Chapter Text

Ron could barely watch from beneath a suit of armor as the rest of the armor pressed their attack against Harry, the blood painted the floor, the weapons kept up their vengeance. A long bladed scimitar missed Harry, went across Ron’s thigh, tore at the fabric, bit slightly into the flesh.

REDUCTO!” A flash of light came from the wand of Professor Lupin, rushing toward them. Magic struck, obliterated the sword about to impale again onto Harry. A second curse sent the other weapons to the floor with a loud reverberating clang. A third curse conjured a stretcher in the floor beneath Harry’s crumpled and broken body, lifting him up. Another curse banished Harry and the stretcher, propelling them fast down the corridor, out of sight, toward the Hospital Wing.

“Blimey!” Professor Lupin ran, grabbed Ron’s bicep, pulled him up, and conjured a bandage around Ron’s cut leg. “What the bloody hell—?”

“Fucking attacked!” Ron said.

With Ron’s first two steps in his dash, he stepped into the pools on the floor, left a short trail of bloody shoe footprints as he and Professor Lupin bolted for the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey was already at work behind the privacy screen around a bed, frantically applying potions, tending to Harry; many gashes and slices were across his naked body, blood puddled in his black pubic hair and stained his skin. Professor Lupin raised his wand, silver and green sparks shot out, the sparks flew out of the Hospital Wing.

“What happened?” Madam Pomfrey asked, her focus remained on Harry.

“An attack,” Professor Lupin said, “Ron?”

Ron, however, watched Madam Pomfrey’s scramble; his best friend badly torn on the bed, the lack of sparkle from Harry’s green eyes.

“I’m getting her,” Ron stated.

“Go!” Professor Lupin ordered.

Ron went into Madam Pomfrey’s office, adjusted and activated his Portkey; he landed in Gia’s bedroom a moment later, which was empty, except for Hedwig napping. Ron left the bedroom, saw Richard in his.

“What the devil?” Richard stammered.

“Where’s Gia?” Ron demanded.

“At Jen’s,” Richard said, “Why?” Richard’s eyes were trying to decipher Ron’s attitude, as Ron was still in his school uniform, with the slacks, the jumper, and the Gryffindor tie.

“I need her, now!” Ron said, calmly but stressed with the urgency, “There’s no time to lose.”

“Sure,” Richard said as he reached for the phone on his desk, punched up the numbers, “Jen—”

“Meet her half way?” Ron asked.

“Jen, get Gia to meet us on Maple,” Richard said, “Ta.”

“Show me,” Ron said.

Ron followed Richard, down the stairs, along Oak Street, cut through to Maple; Gia and Snuffles were coming the other way, Jen a short way behind.

“What’s wrong?” Gia asked.

“It’s Harry,” Ron said.

“I’ll blind Jen,” Richard said, running past them, intercepting Jen.

Ron activated his Portkey, pushed it against Snuffles, Gia held on. They landed in Madam Pomfrey’s office.

“It’s serious and bloody,” Ron said as he showed her out into the Hospital Wing.

Gia rushed to the bedside, she looked at Harry laying there, some bleeding including from a couple of cuts across the penis, but with an IV dripping in fluids into his left arm. Madam Pomfrey was there, busily working, curses after curses came from her wand, Harry twitched a bit from each one.

“Is he doing better?” Ron asked.

“Let her work,” Professor Lupin said, pulling Gia back away from the bed, “It’s serious and still up in the air.”

“Mr. Potter’s lost a lot of blood,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Remus, more reserve blood, stat.”

As Professor Lupin went for the cabinets, Gia ran to the sink and puked.

“Are you alright?” Ron asked Gia.

“All out,” Professor Lupin said, “I don’t see any Blood Potions either.”

“Mr. Potter’s too weak for those,” Madam Pomfrey said, “I need blood.”

“Sorry all the blood makes me—” Gia said, returning to sit on the adjacent bed, “I’ll donate.”

“Get the pump,” Madam Pomfrey said to Lupin.

“Me too,” Ron said.

Professor Lupin grabbed a pair of small green boxes, rushed them over. Madam Pomfrey waved her wand, both boxes opened, and the pumps with tubes each attached one to Harry, the others went to Ron’s arm and Gia’s. Gia winced as the tube bit into her. With a whir, the pumps began to drain blood from Ron and Gia, sending it into Harry. Madam Pomfrey returned her attention to Harry and the extensive lacerations, still oozing a bit of blood, but less than before. Gia held and rubbed Harry’s right hand, one of the few exceptions to his wounded body, his blood darkening.

“I’ll risk two pints each,” Madam Pomfrey said to Ron and Gia, “If you feel dizzy, stop the transfusion immediate and notify me, understood?”

“Yes,” Ron said.

“There are plenty of other willing donors if needed,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Madam Pomfrey kept tending to Harry as slow footsteps slowly approached, accompanied by the tapping of a cane onto stone. Professor Dumbledore took his time to steady himself on the cane, came into the Hospital Wing; Hermione was right behind him. Hermione ran, beat Professor Dumbledore to the bed. Professor Dumbledore steadied himself near the bed; earned a momentary glance from Madam Pomfrey at his small shaking.

“I came as quick…as quick as I could,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“Quidditch practice has been canceled—” Ron said.

“Quidditch?! Quidditch?!” Hermione exclaimed, “That’s all you could think—?!”

“Civility!” Madam Pomfrey snapped.

“I’m a bit tied up at the moment.” Ron kissed her angry face with her flashing brown eyes. “Be a darling and inform the team. Please?”

“Alright!” Hermione snapped, “Don’t lose him.” She left the Hospital Wing.

“I would appreciate … an explanation,” Professor Dumbledore said.

Ron described the attack.

“I heard their shouts and rounded the corner to this barbarism,” Professor Lupin said, “My first priority was Harry, so I haven’t been able to investigate.”

“Understood,” Professor Dumbledore said, “I will look … into the armor.”

With a slow and deliberate gait, Professor Dumbledore left the Hospital Wing and the tapping of his cane echoed for a short while after.

“Please endorse my petition for an assistant,” Madam Pomfrey said to Professor Lupin, “I know, Albus will remind me of expenses, but tending to Mr. Potter has become a full time job by itself.”

“Complaining—?” Ron asked.

“I meant no disrespect,” Madam Pomfrey said, “I love helping and healing, that’s what keeps me here. However, with the frequency of Mr. Potter’s visits, I get rather busy and need another skilled hand.”

“I take it this was Harry’s idea?” Professor Lupin asked, tugging at the collar around Snuffles’ neck.

Snuffles growled. Gia nodded.

“Well, keep an eye on Harry,” Professor Lupin said to Snuffles, “I’ve got an investigation.’

Professor Lupin left the Hospital Wing.

“His hand’s getting cold,” Gia said.

“I had to stop the blood to his arm,” Madam Pomfrey said, “I’ll see to doing that next.”

“He’s not going to make—?” Ron started.

“My top priority is saving his life,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“Sorry,” Ron said.

“I’m doing my best after somebody tried to make steaks out of your friend,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Gia trembled, the blood pump detached itself from her arm, with a fresh bandage on it.

“You know Harry,” Ron said, wrapping his free right arm around Gia’s back, held her.

“I know,” Gia said, “Just don’t want this to be the time it doesn’t happen.”

“Any prognosis I give have a tendency to jinx the outcome,” Madam Pomfrey said, “I’ve got dozens of more bleeders to stop.”

Ron pulled his right hand back, reached for Gia’s jeans, slipped under her panties, and fingered her clitoris.

“Ta,” Gia said.

“Are you—?” Madam Pomfrey started to say to Ron.

“I need it,” Gia stated.

“Sit on the bed, let Harry feel it,” Ron said.

“No!” Madam Pomfrey snapped.

“Then I’ve got to do it,” Ron said as his fingers slipped in between the lace, felt the tight opening inward.

“See you’re keeping busy,” Hermione said to Ron as she returned to the Hospital Wing.

“So?” Ron said, “It’s what Harry wants me to do.”

“Sure,” Hermione said, “He appears real talkative right now.”

Hermione sat on the bed next to Ron, joined in the mutual watching as Madam Pomfrey worked her wand around Harry, applying ointments as she went. The spare blood pump attached itself to Hermione’s arm, the needle went into her.

“Wha—?” Hermione exclaimed.

“He needs it,” Ron said as Ron’s pump detached itself, “Though he also wants to see us bang.”

“You mean you want to,” Hermione said.

“Great way to deal with stress!” Ron said.

“Mr. Weasley!” Madam Pomfrey snapped.

“I am hungry,” Gia said, changing the topic.

“Replenish yourselves.” Aiming her wand, Madam Pomfrey conjured up a table with pumpkin juice and sandwiches. “And when he comes around—” Madam Pomfrey pointed at Harry “—shove twice as much down his throat—he needs to fill out.” She prodded at Harry’s clearly protruding ribs.

“He promised,” Gia said, “One thing after another….”

“That’s Harry,” Ron said.

“Attracts trouble like steel to a magnet,” Hermione said, “It’s not him, it’s others doing it to him.”

“He is definitely not doing Quidditch Practice,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Neither are you Mr. Weasley—” She closed the last of Harry’s lacerations “—I will be back momentarily.” Madam Pomfrey went for her office.

“So it’s true!” Malfoy pushed his way forward to the front of group coming into the Hospital Wing, tearing at the privacy curtains; he spat at the foot of Harry’s bed. “I should’ve known! Potter seems to have let the springs of Weasley’s dilapidated mattress get to him. Sorry fellows, looks like your so called stars cancelled practice for a little fudge packing!”

Josh Brenner led the Gryffindor Quidditch team in; he shoved Malfoy out of the Hospital Wing. Brenner and Ginny came over to Harry; they looked at him. Harry was uncovered as he laid there, Madam Pomfrey’s magic sealed the gashes better than bandages. Ron’s hand stopped Ginny’s from reaching Harry’s bloodied dick seeping out a slight drop from the exposed slit every second or so.

“Will he recover?” Ginny asked.

“Unknown,” Ron replied.

“OUT!” Madam Pomfrey yelled as she rounded back out of her office.

People hesitated; a bang and sparks came from Madam Pomfrey’s wand; people rushed for the doors. Gia ran her finger along a bit of red skin on Harry’s arm.

“He needs to be cleaned,” Gia said.

“He’s in too perilous of a condition for a cleaning charm,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“Then get me some water and a sponge,” Gia said, “At least I can be useful, give Harry a bit of dignity.”

“I will supervise since my charms are keeping him from bleeding to death,” Madam Pomfrey said, summoning over as Gia had asked, “Skip the cuts.”

Gia grabbed the sponge, dipped it into the soapy water, and began with Harry’s forehead. She brought his legendary scar back into view, worked the brows, skipping the cuts along the way. Gia wiped against his cheeks, his nose, his lips. Harry began to twitch.

“Step away,” Madam Pomfrey snapped.

Gia, though, reached for Harry’s left earlobe with her right hand, while her left reached for his scrotum, held on.

“Do not grope in the—” Madam Pomfrey said.

“It works!” Gia retorted.

“Gia and Harry sleep together, a lot,” Ron said.

Gia relaxed her grip, returned to cleaning the dried blood from Harry’s skin, while her bare feet worked at Snuffle’s belly beneath her.

“It’s inappropriate,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“But they do,” Ron said, “Just like me and Hermione do.”

“Ron!” Hermione snapped.

“You’re way too young,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Those were just rumors and idle gossip.”

“It’s quite true that I’ve had SEX!” Ron said, pointing his thumb back to himself, “That’s the part that’s true. I’ll even demonstrate!”

Ron undid his belt, hooked his thumb and pushed the front of his trousers down, exposing his dick, laying there. Ron stretched his foreskin, gripped his dick and tried to massage it. Ron blushed as his penis stayed soft.

“What’d you expect?” Madam Pomfrey said, “You just gave two pints of blood.”

“Hermione, help me make my point,” Ron said.

Hermione reached over, grabbed Ron’s soft todger, held it. Ron grinned.

“You’re just children!” Madam Pomfrey exclaimed.

“I’m sixteen!” Ron said, “And hate to break it to you, this ain’t exactly rare, it’s not like we’re the only ones having sex! Are you seriously expecting us to be boyfriends and girlfriends, and not try to have sex? I’ve got news for you, IT HAPPENS!”

“Some things are better not spoken,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“If it weren’t for that attack,” Ron said, “Harry’d be banging right about now.”

“Ron!” Hermione snapped.

“Why hide from the truth?” Ron said, “I love you, and I ain’t afraid of that rumor. Going to bed with you, playing with you, turns rotten days into alright days, and alright days into bright days. I think it does for you too, right?”

“Have you considered the consequences of being sexually active?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“Yeah,” Ron said as he stood up, he ignored his falling trousers, “We had sex all summer long, it was a great holiday.”

Madam Pomfrey took a moment to study Ron; his soft todger and scrotum hung down beneath the hem of his white dress shirt.

“And we spent it naked,” Ron said, “I didn’t bother to keep count, but yeah, we definitely had a lot of sex, I’m not ashamed of that! Nor is Harry.”

“Then I need to check—” Madam Pomfrey aimed her wand at Hermione, Gia. “No sign of pregnancy. I take it you at least use protection.”

“I’m not mental!” Ron said.

“That remains to be seen,” Hermione said, her eyes able to see Ron’s bare buttocks.

“Wonder if Harry’s listening,” Gia said, “He’d love this.

“We found the spell that gives protection,” Hermione said.

“Makes me a bit weak on the magic,” Ron said, “Worth it though.”

“I do need examine you Mr. Weasley,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Convenient as you’re practically volunteering for it.”

Hermione laughed as Madam Pomfrey reached for Ron’s testicles hanging right in front of her and sat on a stool.

“My big mouth,” Ron grumbled.

“It does have its uses,” Hermione said.

“Sorry if I forgot to check your bite,” Madam Pomfrey said, sealing the minor laceration on Ron’s thigh.

“I kinda wasn’t worrying about it,” Ron said, giving a glance to Harry asleep on the bed.

“I could move you to a different bed,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“This lot’s fine,” Ron replied.

Madam Pomfrey caressed Ron’s balls with her left hand, feeling, while the right hand worked her wand. She carefully inspected Ron’s soft todger, her left fingers plying into it while the wand worked along the length. A glass jar levitated, surrounded the penis as she issued another curse. Madam Pomfrey felt into Ron’s urethrae as he peed.

“That feels alright?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“Yeah,” Ron replied.

Madam Pomfrey kept up her exam for another minute.

“Good evening Mr. Weasley,” Professor McGonagall said, coming into the privacy screen surrounding the bed. Her eyes immediately went to Harry. “My Goodness! He needs at least a blanket—” her wand came out.

“No!” Madam Pomfrey said, rising, “Do not risk the charms holding him together until he’s able to stomach a potion or two.”

“Is it as bad as the rumors said it was?” Professor McGonagall asked Madam Pomfrey while Ron pulled up his trousers.

“If it weren’t for the fast actions of Professor Lupin, he would have been dead in minutes,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Mr. Potter appears to be stable now.”

“You are excused, Mr. Weasley,” Professor McGonagall said, “It is past curfew already.”

“Come Hermione,” Ron said.

Ron and Hermione left the Hospital Wing, went up the stairs..

“You’re late,” the Fat Lady said as her portrait swung open.

Ron shrugged as they passed through. They ignored the giggling from behind the curtains in the corner. Hermione sat on the sofa, Ron stood in front of her.

“Do you mind,” Hermione said to Ron, “Your slacks are in the way.”

“Oh!” Ron said, fingers dropped his trousers to the floor, and he stepped out of them, “Could get closer.”

“No, stay right there,” Hermione said.

Her eyes traced the familiar todger, the loose balls descending from the warmth of the fire behind Ron. Her fingers reached over, began to undo the buttons to the dress shirt, revealed Ron’s lack of an undershirt as the red pubic was now showing.

“You just needed to see me starkers?” Ron asked.

“Believe it or not, there are times I do like to see it,” Hermione said.

Ron leaned, knelt against the sofa, watched her brown eyes for a moment, before he held her hands.

“You got worried, right?” Ron asked.

“All these trips to the Hospital Wing,” Hermione said, “Doesn’t that bloke realize—?”

“It’s Harry,” Ron said, “Trouble’s stuck to him like Spell–o–glue.”

Hermione cupped, held Ron’s balls.

“Too bad I can’t pop a stiffy,” Ron said.

“It uses blood,” Hermione said, “That’s how it does it, not enough, and, well, it’s not happening.”

“Let’s find out the moment it can,” Ron said, reaching for the buttons to her blouse, “If I could—”

“You would,” Hermione said.

Ron’s hands moved around to her back, he undid the snap, pulled the brassier up to show her tits. Ron grabbed her, moved her to lay on her back on the sofa. Ron moved to straddle her head, knees to either side, as he bent over.

“You’re not going to be satisfied,” Hermione warned.

“So?” Ron said.

Ron opened the front of her trousers, pushed the panties out of the way, and brought his tongue to her clitoris; he began to lick. Ron moved his tongue, while Hermione held his thighs, her eyes focused on the the bollocks, the foreskin covered todger, dangling above her head. Ron massaged with his fingers as his tongue caressed. His fingers, his tongue, worked into the vulva, feeling, probing. She breathed deeply, exhaled.

“Ta,” she whispered.

Ron’s torso, head, moved upward as he sat just above her head. Hermione inched herself to rest her hair in his lap. Ron leaned back, the sofa stretched itself to let him lay down too. Hermione turned to her side, resting her her ear into his pubic hair, the pouch of his balls rested against her neck, while the soft todger was against her cheek.

“You worried about Harry too,” Ron said as he summoned a blanket.

Hermione sighed, let her eyes close as he swaddled the blanket over them both.

“You’re being an idiot,” the Keeper said to the Seeker.

“I had the chance,” the Seeker said, “We would’ve had even more fun if that filthy werewolf hadn’t interfered.”

“A dead Potter won’t get us what we want,” the Keeper said, “We need him alive until we don’t, that is for me to decide, not you.”

“Let’s ask the Lord,” the Seeker said.

“Do you really want to do that?” the Keeper asked.

“No,” the Seeker said.

“Potter will be easy to kill when the time comes, so stick to the plan,” the Keeper said, “Stick to the plan.”

A yip and a thrash woke Gia up early Wednesday morning. She was under the blanket, next to Harry on the bed in the Hospital Wing, both were naked beneath the sheets and blankets.

“What am I…my head,” Harry grumbled, “Here, again?”

Gia got out of the bed.

“Where—?” Harry asked.

“I pestered her into letting us sleep together, but I have to let her know when you wake up,” Gia said, making for Madam Pomfrey’s office.

Gia entered the office. Madam Pomfrey had a quill in hand, writing on parchment. An assortment of devices were strewn about her desk, including condoms and some pills.

“Harry’s awake,” Gia said, “Talking.”

“Good,” Madam Pomfrey said, her eyes staying to her parchment, “I didn’t think my request would be approved, but it was, TODAY!”

“Running a sexual education course?” Gia asked.

“After Mr. Weasley’s persistence, I managed to convince Albus,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Hopefully you refrained from Mr. Potter—?”

“We just slept,” Gia said, “Though I’d like to know when he’s fit enough again, for that.”

Harry walked into the office.

“He’s too young to be doing it!” Madam Pomfrey exclaimed.

“He’s wonderful,” Gia said, “And though he does use the condom, I worry it’s not enough, and it’d be nice to not have to remember it.” She grabbed the pill. “Would this be a good idea?”

“Condom’s good and all,” Harry said, “It’d be nice to be skin on skin.”

Madam Pomfrey studied the two teenagers standing there. Gia, with her blond hair and shaved pubics. Harry, only a couple of blemishes remained, also naked like Gia with his penis partially engorged.

“There is a potion, in pill form for those wishing to blend in,” Madam Pomfrey said, “I am hesitant to prescribe it to students.”

Gia’s eyes fleeted, landed on a dust covered model of the male midriff in the corner, it’s penis was laying on the floor.

“You could use a real model, for your lessons,” Gia said, “If it’s Harry, can you prescribe?”

Harry glared at Gia.

“Mr. Potter, your health is my concern and shall remain so as long as I’m your Mediwitch, despite how reckless you might disregard it,” Madam Pomfrey, “Therefore, I will consider your girlfriend’s request so long as you comply and let me do my job when it comes to your health.”

“Hermione would need it too,” Harry said.

“Do we have an agreement?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“Yes,” Harry replied.

“Good,” Madam Pomfrey said, “You’re sexually mature, try to let that maturity into your life and accept responsibility for your health. I know that young wizards and witches tend to ignore it, but your health has to last you a lifetime, and your girlfriend is interested too.”

“Oi! There you are,” Ron said, as he entered the Hospital Wing, fully dressed for school, and came over to Harry. “You’re looking better. Going to bang for Madam Pomfrey?”

“Why would I do that?” Harry asked.

“Make sure everything’s working properly,” Ron said, “This ain’t.” Ron briefly grabbed Harry’s semi–flaccid penis.

“He’s down on blood,” Madam Pomfrey said, “If you’ll excuse me, I have things to prepare.”

“Sure,” Ron said.

Harry and Gia followed Ron back into the Hospital Wing; Hermione was there. Hermione hugged Harry, tightly, kissed Harry on the cheek, before letting go.

“Harry needs help getting his todger up, know a charm?” Ron asked.

Hermione studied Harry’s soft dick dangling there.

“It’s looking a lot better,” Hermione said.

“Check mine out,” Ron said.

“I already did,” Hermione said, “Don’t worry Ron, I know you can’t function without at least one daily compliment about your dick.”

Harry laughed.

“About time for you to get to school,” Harry said to Gia, leaning over to kiss her.

“Back in the bed, Mister,” Gia said, pointing to Harry.

Harry cowered, backed himself onto the bed, sat down. Ron laughed.

“It’s not funny,” Harry snapped.

“You get the rest that you’ve been ordered to get,” Gia said, “I’ll go.”

“Let’s find a spot,” Ron said, grabbing Snuffles by the collar. Gia followed Ron.

Hermione sat on the next bed, facing Harry.

“Was it really that bad?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Hermione said, “You are my friend, I care about you, deeply.”

“Thanks, I guess,” Harry said.

“So the rumor is correct,” Professor Lupin said, coming in, “You have regained consciousness, welcome back to the living, Harry.”

“I didn’t die, did I?” Harry asked.

“No, but it did give us a very good scare,” Professor Lupin said, “As such, I want to know what happened, from your perspective.”

“Nothing much, really,” Harry said, “Ron and I were headed back to the dormitory, as we needed to get ready for Quidditch practice. We went around the corner and the armor attacked.”

“Try to be a bit more specific, if you can,” Professor Lupin said.

“Not much more,” Harry said, “I saw the blades moving on us, I think I pushed Ron.”

“That part worked,” Professor Lupin said, “Ron suffered a simple cut, whereas you were nearly fillets fit for roasting.”

“What of the armor?” Hermione said, “You’ve obviously investigated.”

“And I can tell you that the armor, like it all, was cursed, enchanted,” Professor Lupin said, “But whoever it was did a good job covering up their tracks by alerting the House Elfs to do some fast cleaning, so I’ve got no leads. I’ll try to keep you apprised if that changes, but I wouldn’t keep my hopes up if I were you.”

“Thanks,” Harry said.

Professor Lupin turned around, began to leave, before he stopped and faced Harry again.

“Ron, Hermione, and Gia eagerly volunteered to donate some of their blood, to you, so that you may live. I wouldn’t be surprised if all the blood in your body is from them,” Professor Lupin said, “You’ve got good friends, cherish them.”

Professor Lupin left.

“You gave me blood?” Harry asked.

“Yeah,” Hermione said as she leaned forward.

Hermione reached, held Harry’s loose testicles hanging over the edge of the bed. Harry smiled.

“You look worried,” Harry said.

“Something Ron said,” Hermione replied, “I do love you too.”

Harry blushed.

“Blimey!” Ron said as he returned to the Hospital Wing, “Get kissing you two!”

“Hi Ron,” Harry said.

“We need to get to breakfast,” Ron said, “Trying to think, keeping you occupied, you know, so you’re not tempted to duck out. I’m thinking D–O–B–B–Y.”

“Not Dobby!” Harry snapped.


“Dobby is happy to serve Harry Potter!” Dobby said.

Harry glared at Ron.

“Harry needs to follow Madam Pomfrey’s orders,” Ron said, “And, keep him company.”

“Dobby helps Harry Potter!” Dobby exclaimed.

“Come,” Ron said to Hermione, holding her hand.

Hermione followed Ron, they left the Hospital Wing.

“That was—” Hermione started.

“Without Gia there, he’d go wandering,” Ron said.

They entered the Great Hall. Grumblings met them as Professor McGonagall was handing out revised schedules; she handed one to Ron and Hermione.

“Why—?!” Neville muttered as Ron sat down at the Gryffindor Table.

Ron glanced at the food and started dishing some out to his own. Hermione read the schedule, saw the lesson SEX–ED on it.

“Unbelievable!” Dean exclaimed.

“Your big mouth,” Hermione said to Ron, “Looks like Madam Pomfrey took you seriously.”

“Sexual awareness…” Neville moaned.

“We’re all quite aware—boys versus girls,” Seamus snapped, “Girls not arses—”

“Condoms—” Dean snapped.

“Cut em off—” Seamus grabbed a knife and reached for Ron’s shirt, “Problem solved!”

Ron pushed Seamus back.

“Falling for Slytherin bait and fodder?” Hermione asked.

“Balls to suggest we catch him in the act,” Seamus said.

“Why the fuck do you care? You’re not being asked to participate, are you?” Ron said, “Harry’s cock, Harry’s choice, understood? So, bugger off.”

“Dobby wonders why Harry Potter is not dressed,” Dobby said.

“I was a bloody mess when I came in,” Harry said, “They had to destroy my clothes to save me.”

“Dobby understands, Dobby had tea cozy for so long,” Dobby said.

“It’s different,” Harry said, “I’m supposed to sleep, and I sleep starkers.”

“Dobby understands,” Dobby said, fingers about to snap.

“No!” Harry exclaimed.

“Mr. Potter,” Madam Pomfrey said as she entered, flask in her hand, “He could fetch—”

“You need me naked for those lessons, right?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“Lets not waste time with me getting dressed and undressed,” Harry said.

“Drink up,” Madam Pomfrey said, handing the flask to him, “Best not to look at it.”

Harry did, saw the red within. It took a moment of courage to bring it to his lips. A bitter metal taste went over his tongue, Harry made a face of disgust.

“Yeck,” Harry muttered.

“Stand,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Harry stood. She watched as his dick began to stiffen, rise, into a hard erection.

“This, again,” Harry grumbled.

“You’re lucky nothing had to be permanently amputated,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Please, feel yourself up.”

Harry rolled his eyes, felt his hard shaft. Out of habit and an urge, Harry stroked it, until he recoiled from the sharp pain.

“Where?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“Here,” Harry said, quickly retracting his foreskin, a cut was on the narrow part beneath the glans.

“I was afraid of this, missing a spot,” Madam Pomfrey said, bringing her wand over, tapping his dick, “You simply had so many, and once you were stable, it’s better to rest and heal later.”

“Sorry,” Harry said.

“Try it again,” Madam Pomfrey said as Harry resumed, “I know this may feel awkward, or embarrassing. Lets just make sure it all works as desired, because you don’t want to let that girlfriend down, do you?”

“No,” Harry said.

Harry kept stroking, felt the pressure build, the tension, and the familiar sudden release. Madam Pomfrey watched as Harry’s slit opened as his orgasm began. Thick and off–white, his semen shot forth, formed a series of puddles on the floor. Madam Pomfrey aimed her wand, drew out a filament, and lifted it upward. She looked at the sample.

“That works,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Touch yourself where you’d rather I not touch.”

Harry held his balls.

“Bit sore,” Harry muttered.

Madam Pomfrey aimed her wand. “Bit of seepage, that’ll be fine.”

“Go aheady,” Harry said.

Madam Pomfrey moved his arms, until he held them straight out. She began to feel along his right hand, his arm, until Harry winced as she felt into his armpit, a stabbing sensation.

“For all the good charms do,” Madam Pomfrey said, “There were enough cuts and dings that some have elluded my spells, so this personal examination will have to do.”

Harry stood there, arms out, as Madam Pomfrey kept checking. His dick had softened when the first of the lesson bells rang; her hands had already reached down to his naval.

“We’ll finish this afterwards,” Madam Pomfrey said, “I need you in the classroom.”

Harry followed her, to the classroom, already filling with first and second years.

“Hi,” Ash said to Harry.

“You’re naked!” said Gale, the blond haired Hufflepuff boy sitting next to Ash.

“Yes I am,” Harry said, “Madam Pomfrey’ll explain.”

“And girls,” Gale said, slinking down in his seat.

Harry turned his head, as the red haired Ginny entered the classroom; she too, was starkers, clearly had let a bit of her carpet grow back in since August. Before Harry had a chance to curse, Madam Pomfrey stood in the front center of the classroom; she waved at Harry and Ginny, both walked up to stand up front; Ginny stood to Harry’s right, while Madam Pomfrey was to his left.

“Good morning first and second years,” Madam Pomfrey said, “I am Madam Pomfrey, your mediwitch, and you can usually find me in the Hospital Wing. My assistants here are Mr. Harry Potter and Miss. Ginny Weasley, who have both graciously agreed to be models for this lesson.”

Some claps. Ginny blushed. Harry felt a bit of awkwardness, as these weren’t real strangers, however, as with all his misadventures recently, had started to get accustomed to the exposure, simply grinned as the eyes surveyed him, including the loose todger and the low hanging bollocks.

“You’re all eleven or twelve,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Whether you leave Hogwarts after your OWLs or stay on to earn your NEWTs, you all will grow up, and your bodies will change. The wizards can expect changes similar to Mr. Potter’s, while the witches can expect to be similar to Miss. Weasley.”

Harry saw the eyes, none watching Madam Pomfrey, all on either Harry or Ginny. All the scars, the blemishes, from the previous day had already vanished from Harry’s skin; leaving his customary one on his forehead, though nobody was looking there. Behind Harry, the projector lit to life on the screen, showing a closeup of Harry’s genitals.

“As you mature in a process we call puberty, you will become attracted to each other, and this lesson deals with that,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Please take out parchment and sketch this—” She pointed with her wand at Harry’s genitals. “Label as I describe it. This is his pubic hair.” She pointed to Harry’s thick black bush. “It is a good indicator that Mr. Potter’s puberty is nearly complete.”

A Hufflepuff girl raised her hand; her parchment fell to the floor.

“Yes, Easter Oakdale,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“I don’t have that,” Easter said, “It’s ugly too.”

Harry blushed as Easter’s eyes darted from him to Ginny.

“Each wizard here will get some to shape as they please,” Madam Pomfrey said, “When you find a boyfriend, he will likely be eager to show it to you.”

Some catcalls.

“This is Mr. Potter’s penis,” Madam Pomfrey said, pointing, “At the end is his foreskin, can you please retract it?”

Harry’s fingers did this.

“Can’t see,” Ash complained.

Harry’s pink glans, including his slit, showed up large and centered on the screen behind him. Madam Pomfrey continued to point out, describe Harry’s anatomy, including his testicles; even having him bend over to point out where the prostrate was in regards to his anus.

“I understand you have Ron to thank for this,” Ginny whispered to Harry.

“Now, sketch Miss. Weasley,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Ginny blushed as her crotch went to the screen. Madam Pomfrey repeated with Ginny, pointing out her features, from her clitoris, to the labia, to the nipples of her breasts, as each student sketched and labeled these. The bell rang.

“Put your name on your drawings and hand them in,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Quickly, the first and second year students did this, left. Another rush of students came in, the third and fourth years.

“You know, we’ve never had these lessons before,” Harry whispered to Ginny.

“Ron spouted off to her by your bed last night,” Ginny said, “Surprise, surprise.”

Harry has a passing familiarity with some of the students, especially Dennis Creevy who was carrying one of Colin’s cameras.

“Welcome third and fourth years,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Being that you’re thirteen, fourteen years of age, you’ve undoubtedly noticed changes in yourself and others. Wizards expect—” she pointed to Harry’s dick “—this to get bigger, and these—” she pointed to Harry’s balls “—to drop lower and be more profound. And witches find that—” she pointed to Ginny’s breasts “—develop and will begin to experience bleeding—” she pointed to Ginny’s vagina “—which is called a period.”


Dennis had the camera aimed at Harry and Ginny standing next to each other.

“Mr. Creevy!” Madam Pomfrey snapped.

“Sorry,” Dennis said.

“You are all experiencing a change called puberty,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Girls will chase the boys, and the boys will respond—” she aimed her wand.

Harry felt the curse, enticing his penis, and it stiffened fast into a hard erection jutting outward. The projector showed enlarged view from all sides on the wall.


Dennis smiled as Madam Pomfrey glared.

“Utterly embarrassing and confusing the wizard,” Madam Pomfrey said, as she returned to the topic of Harry’s hard cock, “He will likely chase a different girl, and the inevitable fights will land them in the Hospital Wing. While the staff can provide advice, how you sort out your relationships is ultimately up to you. Who here has experienced a wet dream?”

Blushes came from most before Dennis slowly raised his hand. Every other boy raised theirs.

“It is called an orgasm,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Both boys and girls can have them, but the boys will result in a sticky mess—” she aimed her wand.

“There’s no need to demonstrate that,” Harry said to Madam Pomfrey. Some giggles.

“Once a wizard is able to do that, there is the temptation for the boyfriend and girlfriend to become sexually active. Let me explain the rules of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry ,“ Madam Pomfrey said, “Sexual activity is prohibited; whether that is to simply toss, called masturbation, or to have sexual intercourse with another. Additionally, should a witch become pregnant, then both the witch and wizard will be expelled; your wand broken.”

“I’ve seen banging in the common room,” said Owen Cauldwell.

“Today’s lesson is pragmatic,” Madam Pomfrey said, “This is a boarding school, so starting with expulsion would leave us with no students left. If you use discretion and protection, then the odds of getting in trouble are minimal. If you need protection, consult with me because my oath as a Mediwitch supersedes my obligations as a member of staff.”

“What is there?” Owen asked.

“This is called a condom,” Madam Pomfrey said, holding up the small package, “Mr. Potter, please demonstrate.”

Harry opened it, let everybody watch as he unrolled it across his hard cock. Madam Pomfrey tugged for a moment at the side. Dennis kept taking pictures.

“You see it to be snug,” Madam Pomfrey said, “You want no leakage, a leak can get her pregnant.”

“Now, demonstrate,” Ginny said to Harry.

“What?” Harry stuttered.

“She wanted me here so we could demonstrate usinge your condom,” Ginny said.

“Come on Mr. Potter,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Don’t be shy.”

Harry hadn’t counted on this; being starkers in front of the lower classmen was one thing, this was slightly more.

“You know how,” Ginny said, coming in close to Harry.

Ginny pulled Harry as she stepped backward, leaned back on the desk on front of Dennis Creevy and Owen Cauldwell. She pulled Harry as she laid on her back. Harry realized he was obligated, everybody watching, everybody judging, including Dennis Creevy’s camera at point blank range. Harry straddled Ginny, knees on the table, lifting her. She helped thread his hard cock in. Dennis aimed the camera in close, moved from all angles, taking pictures as Harry began to thrust.

“Keep going,” Ginny said, “All the way.”

Harry kept it up, thrusting, drilling, as the class watched him, his butt in the air, his balls swinging, his pubic hair meeting Ginny’s red carpet. Harry pulled out, Dennis took close up pictures of the condom’s pouch filling up with semen. Harry removed his condom from his shrinking dick.

“As you can see, a condom does not interfere,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Harry got off the desk; Dennis snatched the used condom from Harry.

“Par—” Harry started before being interrupted by Madam Pomfrey.

“It is a good defense,” Madam Pomfrey said, “If you need them, just ask and I can provision you with one.”

Harry went back to the front, sat on the edge of the table; Ginny sat next to him.

“For the rest of the lesson, an essay,” Madam Pomfrey said, “List the sexual acts you know of, describe what makes each one safe, or not.”

“I’ve already got a girlfriend,” Harry said.

“You were good, no regrets,” Ginny said.

“I’m a model!” Harry said.

“You love being starkers, admit it,” Ginny said.

“That too,” Harry said, “Wasn’t keen on us banging—”

“Small price,” Ginny retorted.

“I’ll piss on you if you try it again,” Harry said.

“I think that’d be the next lesson,” Ginny said, “If you don’t like it then tell Ron not to blab about all the sex happening to Madam Pomfrey!”

“Got a comb?” Harry asked.

Ginny went over to her clothes, pulled out her wand, summoned one, and brought it over to Harry.

“Here,” Ginny said.

Harry used the comb, took out the knots in his pubic hair until the bell rang. The other students turned in their papers. Ginny went to her clothes, got dressed, while Harry followed Madam Pomfrey back to the Hospital Wing. Ron and Hermione were there.

“Well?” Ron asked.

“I need a sample Mr. Potter,” Madam Pomfrey said, handing Harry a glass jar.

“You’re looking swell,” Ron said, as Harry began to piss into the jar, “Wonderful, actually.”

“Great,” Harry grumbled, “Thought that perfume was gone.”

“It’s not like I’m getting a stiffy for you,” Ron said, “Just made me appreciate how beautiful you really are, that’s all. Don’t think that’s going away.”

“Maybe I should find who made it,” Hermione said, “Get one here for you, Harry, to give Ronald a hard time.”

“You liked it?” Ron asked Hermione.

“It was…interesting,” Hermione said, “Now Harry understands what a girl normally goes through.”

Harry tapped his dick against the jar, got the last drop, and walked over to Madam Pomfrey in her office. He put the jar on her desk.

“Thank you Mr. Potter,” Madam Pomfrey said. She took out her wand, aimed it at the sample. “I’ll conditionally release you, just show up for the lesson and bring your girlfriend this evening. In the meanwhile, have some lunch, you need to eat and fill out a bit.”

Harry turned around.

“Don’t forget to get dressed for lunch,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“Why?” Harry asked, spinning around, “I’m naked now because you don’t want me stressing my skin, half the school just saw me this morning, and the other half is about to. I wasn’t going to bother with that, and just head to lunch, as is.”

“You will also be a student for the next lesson,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Don’t forget your things.”

Harry left the office, went for the door. They left the Hospital Wing, went for the Great Hall, and entered. Harry caught more than a few glances, as he was naked and his dick freely swung. They sat at the Gryffindor Table; Ron to Harry’s right, and Hermione to his left.

“How was your morning?” Ron asked, piling on some sausages to Harry’s plate.

“Fine,” Harry said, “I’m not that hungry.”

“You should be,” Ron stated.

“Not that again!” Harry grumbled.

“We are worried about you,” Hermione said, “Eat up! See if you can eat more than Ron.”

“Ron’s a pig,” Harry said.

“Am not!” Ron exclaimed, mouth half full, still chewing.

“How was it?” Neville asked Owen Cauldwell, a bit down the table.

“Great,” Owen Cauldwell,”Harry banged Ginny.”

“Blimey!” Ron said before he came to glare at Harry.

“She probably volunteered just so I’d have to,” Harry said, “It wasn’t my choice.”

“You fucked her?” Ron asked.

“My only other choice was to curse her,” Harry said, “I wasn’t going to hurt your sister!”

Harry stood.

“I’ve never—” Neville muttered.

“Easy!” Malfoy shouted, leading a small pack over to the Gryffindor Table, “Potter’s a whore—sleeping around—”

Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs watched the showdown. Harry turned, faced Malfoy, the loose testicles hung there as they usually did.

“Easy Draco,” Pansy Parkinson said, “Potter’s got a rough life—fucking fan after fan, weasels, Mudbloods, and other filth—”

“Weasel family fun—” Blaise Zabini said.

“Got your Herpes under control?” Harry asked, eyes glared right at Malfoy as Harry’s hand wagged his dick.

“Do not slander—” Malfoy sneered.

“Relax,” Tracey Davis said, “They’re just trying to cover the emotional damage that weasels inflict on their bitches—family affair, you understand. As evidenced by this Mudblood, looks like Potter’s in on the family secret on how to expertly hide the bruises.”

“Careful—” Ginny whispered to Ron, both of whom now had their wands drawn.

“Aw,” Malfoy said, “Looks like they want some family time everybody!”

Malfoy lead the pack of students out of the Great Hall.

“Adam, Eve, and Steve have fifteen minutes,” Seamus Finnigan announced as he joined the crowd of students out of the Great Hall.

This left four; Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny in the Great Hall.

“And you—you know I’m not interested in you, not like that, right?” Harry asked.

“How was I supposed to know?” Ginny said, “It’s not like I was told; they just asked for volunteers and I raised my hand! Besides, your cock enjoyed it!”

“Lovely surprise,” Harry said, “Put my dick in a warm hole—of course it’ll go off! Doesn’t mean I wanted it to happen. I have news for you, GUYS DON’T CONTROL IT!”

“For the record, I wish it had been Colin,” Ginny stated, as she went to leave, “At least he loves me!”

“I do love you, as Ron’s sister—” Harry started to retort. Ginny, though, went out the door.

“So you did fuck her,” Ron stated.

“Yes!” Harry said as he sat back down, “Madam Pomfrey needed us to demonstrate using a condom. She seemed rather eager to go through with it.”

“I don’t blame Ginny,” Ron said, “That’s a lovely todger.”

“I am not—” Harry said, his finger pointed at Ron, “I’m not having you fuck me in the butt, understood?”

“For all of this,” Hermione said, “Would you rather still be naked?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, “It is…it feels so much better than being dressed.”

“I knew it,” Hermione said, “Hiding your clothes…I didn’t realize…”

“I forgave you ages ago,” Harry said, “Best thing you could’ve done.”

“Yeah,” Ron said, “I’m kinda jealous.”

“If banging Ginny and having them draw my dick is the price I’ve gotta pay, so be it,” Harry said, standing up, “However, if you’d like to, feel free to bang her yourself.”

Harry left the Great Hall. Like pulling a muggle bandage off really slow, Harry realized that he had become accustomed to his exposure; and it did have one distinct positive, nobody could claim he had any sort of rash with his skin uncovered for all of them to see. Harry climbed the steps, noticed those watching back, but otherwise paid no heed, and made it to Gryffindor Tower; he entered the common room.

“There he is,” said Gale, sitting next to Ash. Ash nodded.

Harry waved, went up the steps to his dormitory. Ash followed Harry into the sixth year boys’ dormitory.

“Hi,” Ash said.

“Hello,” Harry replied, sorting out the book bag.

“Any Quidditch today?” Ash asked.

“Think I’m grounded,” Harry said.

“Oh,” Ash said.

Harry glanced at the clock, saw he still had fifteen minutes. Harry grabbed his Firebolt.

“A few minutes, alright?” Harry asked, mounting the broom.

Ash climbed on behind Harry. Harry expected the reach around, felt the fingers ply into his penis. It stiffened as Harry opened the window. Harry flew out; warmth of Ash’s breath warmed his back. Harry took a couple laps of the castle in the lunchtime mist.

“Albus, that is wholy inappropriate,” Professor McGonagall said, while staring out of the window from the Headmaster’s office. She could see Harry, his balls hanging freely, though contracting upward off the handle, flying while Ash, fully dressed, was holding onto the hard erection.

“You are Head … of Gryffindor House,” Professor Dumbledore replied, “You can rectify … it if you so choose … to.”

“I…” Professor McGonagall started, before she stopped.

“Harry does not … understand his powers, yet, … he is growing into it,” Professor Dumbledore said, “A young member of his house … has a fear of flying, … so Harry is helping him … overcome it, … even if it means … letting that member touch … intimately. Harry is naked … against the rules … however, he persuaded Madam Pomfrey … to write him a pass.”

“Speaking of her, I wish you would reconsider Albus,” Professor McGonagall said, “It’d give you more time.”

“Time is something … we don’t have … a lot of,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“You’re guaranteeing even less for yourself,” Professor McGonagall replied.

“I have … accepted it, Minerva,” Professor Dumbledore replied.

Harry sweated a bit as he ran through the corridors, his dick flopped, before his feet slid on the marble, and he came into the classroom that was filled with all of the fifth, sixth, and seventh years. He sat next to Ron and Hermione.

“You’re supposed to be taking it easy,” Hermione said, “Remember, you’ve got two pints of my blood in you.”

“Bit late,” Harry said.

“Good afternoon,” Madam Pomfrey said, “You are all fifteen or older, so do I need to describe what a penis is?”

Heads shook.

“Rumors have been going around alleging certain irregularities in the welfare of the student body,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Whether these are true or not, a strong course in adolescent health is necessary. Mr. Potter, Miss. Weasley, come to the front.”

Harry got up, went to the front. Ginny was already naked. Madam Pomfrey quickly went over their anatomy, like she did with the first years. Showed a condom and had Harry test fit it for them all to watch, before she changed the subject.

“Diseases and illnesses can also be spread by sexual activity,” Madam Pomfrey said, “If a disease is suspected, then an examination should be conducted. We’ll cover that today, and giving you some tips about when to seek medical help.”

“Make him piss!” Seamus shouted.

“Samples are part of the examination,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Urine tells you a lot about a patient.”

Harry understood the message, grabbed the sample jar, aimed.

“That’s not so hard,” Malfoy sneered as Harry peed.

“If you’re so cocky, you do it!” Ron snapped at Malfoy.

“Thank you for volunteering Mr. Malfoy,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Come up to the front.”

Malfoy sulked, came up to the front.

“You’ll pay,” Malfoy promised to Harry.

“Here,” Madam Pomfrey said, handing Malfoy a jar, “Give us a sample.”

“It’s not that difficult,” Harry said.

“If you can do it, so can I,” Malfoy said, dropping his trousers, “Do not laugh.”

“After a demonstration by Mr. Malfoy,” Madam Pomfrey said, “You will be examining each other, because discovering an illness early means you can get it treated early. To do otherwise risks your most private of parts.”

Laughs, giggles, and gasps came as Malfoy dropped his white briefs; the penis was short, the crumpled foreskin nearly obscuring it beneath the silvery gray pubic hair. Several boils were showing on his thighs. Malfoy aimed his penis, the sliver of pink of his glans peeked out, and he began to pee, cringing.

“Honey helps,” Neville said.

“Let everybody see it,” Madam Pomfrey said as she pointed to the microscopic zoom in on Malfoy’s urine, where spots of white were mingled in with the yellow, “This indicates an infection, you should have come to me ages ago Mr. Malfoy. Do not fear, I think we can remedy this.”

Some laughter, giggles.

“While I examine Mr. Malfoy,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Break into small groups so you can check each other. Here is a checklist.” She waved her wand, squares of parchment went over to each table.

Harry went over to Ron and Hermione; Neville came over.

“Are we supposed to—?” Neville asked.

“Gotta bare it to check it,” Harry said.

“Easy for you to say, you’re already bare,” Neville retorted.

“We’re supposed to check at least three Others,” Hermione said, “And ourselves.”

Some privacy screens were moved from the sides of the classroom; Neville grabbed one, cordoned off around him, Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

“I know you don’t need it,” Neville said, “Me—different story.”

Ron was already stripping; his red pubic hair fully exposed.

“Like you need the excuse,” Hermione said.

“You’re welcome to check me,” Harry said to Neville.

“Sure,” Neville said.

“Here,” Ron said, finger on the parchment, eyes focused on Hermione, “Gotta check this.”

Hermione was already halfway undressed when Ron approached her, fondling his todger.

“It says to feel with your fingers Ron, your fingers,” Hermione said.

“Alright, alright,” Ron said, “But this—” he pointed to his stiffening penis “—is a very sophisticated feeling device, it’s more sensitive than my fingers.”

“Just do it by the form,” Neville said.

Ron sighed. Hermione was first with her form, on her knees, inspecting Harry’s penis, retracting the foreskin and peering beneath.

“You’re way too comfortable with this,” Neville said to Harry.

“It’s just a dick,” Harry said.

Hermione moved from Harry’s scrotum to Ron, inspecting him and checking her list before she turned to Neville. Neville still had his briefs up.

“I’ll be quick,” Hermione said, pulling the white cloth down.

Neville blushed as his brown pubic hair showed.

“Haven’t been handled….” Neville started.

“A virgin?” Hermione asked.

“Y…yeah,” Neville said, softly.

Hermione patted, felt, held Neville’s scrotum, examined the penis, even pulled up the foreskin.

“That girl will be lucky to have these,” Hermione said.

Neville blushed further as it stiffened up.

“She does that to me too,” Ron said.

“I…” Neville muttered.

“Let her finish,” Harry said.

“I meant…” Neville cried as his hard dick launched the first shot of white, getting onto Hermione’s chest.

“Should’ve seen that coming,” Hermione said, “It’s alright.”

“She’ll do that to me too,” Harry said.

Hermione spun, glared at Harry.

“Please?” Harry whispered, “For him.”

Hermione held Harry’s dick, stroked it. Neville watched as Harry stumbled slightly, as Harry’s semen shot forth.

“Suppose Ron’s next?” Neville asked.

“Yeah,” Ron said.

“Thought you wanted to bang,” Hermione said.

“We can do that,” Ron said, “On the desk so we can inspect you.”

Hermione laid on the desk. Ron moved her legs until her feet hooked over his shoulders. Neville had already calmed down, even with a strand of semen that was dangling from his softening penis, and watched.

“Keep the checklist,” Harry said, handing Neville the sheet and the quill, “And feel her up.”

Hermione grinned, bore it, as the three boys explored her breasts, her stomach, before reaching her clitoris. Neville trembled.

“It’s alright,” Ron said, “Join in the fun.”

Harry reached over, brought Neville’s left hand over and pushed the fingers onto Hermione’s clitoris. Neville felt, blushed as he did so.

“They endorsed this?” Neville asked.

“Seemed like it to me,” Harry said.

“Makes sense,” Hermione said, “Who best to keep an eye on things than somebody who likes to keep an eye on it? Right Ronald?”

“Um…sure,” Ron said.

Neville chuckled.

Neville hesitated slightly, though Harry’s and Ron’s fingers marched right down the lace nestled in her brown carpet, moved inward, felt the warmth, the wall inside.

“Feels weird,” Neville said.

“Think that’s weird?” Ron asked, flexing his hips, a brief glint of red, and he pushed his hard cock inward.

“Didn’t mean that,” Neville said, pulling his fingers out, “Besides, there’s no protection.”

“You obviously didn’t see it,” Harry said, “It went on, though you might’ve missed it, better than an ordinary condom.”

“What is it?” Neville asked.

“Trade secret,” Ron said as he flexed his hips, drilled, “Now I’m feeling just about everything inside, she’s a bit tired.”

“You’re serious about that being better?” Neville asked.

“If you’re looking for anything out of the ordinary, then yes,” Harry said, “Madam Pomfrey insisted I check out everything earlier, and we found a couple of things she missed yesterday.”

Ron held his cock in Hermione for a moment, breathed deep, and pulled it out; his white semen was pooled in the pouch at the tip, and he pulled back.

“Invisible?” Neville asked as the enchantment ceased and Ron dribbled to the floor.

“Not saying,” Ron said, with a grin.

“It’s merely birth control,” Harry said, “If Hermione or Ron had one of the diseases, they’d spread it.”

“Aw,” Neville said, “Not like I really need it.”

Hermione sat up, held Neville’s testicles.

“Don’t underestimate these,” Hermione said, “Go steady, and I’ll give it to you. Deal?”

“Sure,” Neville said.

The lesson bell rang. Neville hurriedly dressed, left. Neither Ron nor Hermione bothered, just sat there on a desk as the privacy screens went to the side. Soon, the room was nearly empty.

“Lesson is over,” Madam Pomfrey said, “You may get dressed now.”

“Kinda don’t feel like it, not yet,” Ron said.

“I can check you out,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“Our deal?” Harry asked.

“Bring your girlfriend to my office,” Madam Pomfrey said as she left.

“Um…” Harry slapped his hips, “Would you believe me if I said I didn’t have my wand on me?”

“It’s in my trunk,” Ron said, “I’ll go get her and bring it with me.”

Ron stuffed his clothes into his bookbag, grabbed his wand and Portkey, he activated it, and vanished.

“That’s what your arse was for,” Hermione said.

“It…um…stopped working last week, sorta fell out,” Harry said, “So I had to stop using it.”

“Still have it?” Hermione asked.

“I got everything out, but no,” Harry said, “Think their rubbish has already been picked up.”

“So there’s an enchanted condom somewhere in muggle rubbish?” Hermione asked.

“Yep,” Harry said, “Lets get to the Hospital Wing.”

“First time I’ve seen you excited to go to the Hospital Wing,” Hermione said as they left the classroom.

“Hear it out,” Harry said, “Think it’s a good thing.”

Hermione hadn’t bothered to dress either, so both her and Harry entered Madam Pomfrey’s office, naked.

“Ron and Gia will be along shortly,” Harry said as he sat.

“You are a resilient individual Mr. Potter,” Madam Pomfrey said, “I wish you’d learn to not rely on it so much, because at some point, it will fail you, and you’d leave your girlfriend a widow.”

“That’d be great,” Harry said, “Just get Voldemort to stop chasing me and everything will be fine!”

“We don’t know if he’s related,” Hermione said.

“Who else wants me dead?” Harry said, “If Professor Lupin hadn’t … I would have been killed. And Voldemort’s the first person I can think of who wants to see me dead.”

“Stop saying that,” Hermione said.

“It’s the truth, isn’t it?” Harry asked.

“Makes me worried,” Hermione said.

“And me,” Gia said as she entered, with Ron. She was wearing tight blue panties and a low cut blue sports bra.

Madam Pomfrey waved her wand, the door closed and locked itself; she did not rise so she did not see Harry’s erection forming.

“What I’m about to divulge does not leave this room,” Madam Pomfrey said, “I do not want to hear anybody else asking me about it, understood?”

“Yes,” Gia said.

“Yes,” Harry replied, his hard dick was in utter agreement.

Hermione and Ron nodded.

“I need to just do a cursory check,” Madam Pomfrey said, aiming her wand at Gia first, then Ron, and finally at Hermione, “Clean of STDs. As to you Mr. Potter, I’ve examined you enough times to know that you’re clean.”

“Thank you,” Harry said.

Harry figured though it may have been obvious, with their fresh lesson, and with them sitting there, naked save Gia, showing gratitude was the polite thing to do.

Madam Pomfrey held up the packets of pills.

“It’s a potions in muggle form,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Magical birth control pills, and I will prescribe them to both Miss. Granger and Miss. Prescott, seeing as I can’t persuade you to stop the sex, right?”

“That won’t happen,” Harry said, he stood enough to show his hard erection, aimed it toward Gia.

Ron, Gia, and Hermione shook their heads.

“Any side effects?” Gia asked.

“Aside from admitting to an active sex life to me, nothing you can’t manage,” Madam Pomfrey said, “With weekly usage, this potion will prevent pregnancy, without the hormone swings you’d find in the Muggle pills. It does this by substituting in a magic egg for the real egg when your body ovulates, so the real egg stays put in your ovaries, and the magic egg cannot be fertilized, to be passed out in the ordinary fashion. Understand?”

Ron shook his head.

“Condoms can leak, this can’t,” Hermione said to Ron, “With this potion, you don’t need a condom, I don’t have to do anything else except for taking it once a week, and my body won’t know the difference, and it’s impossible to get pregnant, right?”

“Yes,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Ron smiled.

“This will not protect you from diseases, it will not protect another girl should Mr. Potter or Mr. Weasley decide to stray,” Madam Pomfrey said, “It will only protect the person for whom it is prescribed, understood?”

“Get started,” Ron said to Hermione.

“Each take the first one, now,” Madam Pomfrey said, handing a pill each to Hermione and Gia. She handed over to cups of water.

Hermione and Gia both swallowed, drank.

“That’s it?” Ron asked, eyes wide like Christmas had come early.

“You will still need to use the condoms until their next period,” Madam Pomfrey said, “After that, it’s whenever you want to have sex.”

“This sounds wonderful,” Harry said.

“I will give you each four doses,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Come back in a month so I can check to see how you’re doing, and I will then issue you a year’s supply.”

“I can do this,” Gia said.

“A word of caution, do not skip a dose,” Madam Pomfrey said, “If you, for whatever reason, stop taking it, use protection, because once it stops being effective, unprotected sex will guarantee pregnancy.”

“We’ll keep that in mind,” Hermione said.

“Thank you Madam Pomfrey,” Harry said as he stood, his dick was still stiff, jutted outward.

“Oh, no Quidditch for you until next week,” Madam Pomfrey said to Harry, “And eat a bit more, I’d like to see a some meat on those ribs of yours.”

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Gia left Madam Pomfrey’s office.

“That sucks Mate,” Ron said, “I’ve got to get out there. And here you go.”

Ron handed over Harry’s wand, Portkey, to Harry. Harry escorted Gia behind a privacy screen, activated the Portkey, and she held on.

Harry and Gia landed in her bedroom, in Noigate. It was quiet in the house; Harry walked over, put an owl treat in Hedwig’s dish. Gia hugged Harry, kissed him, and pushed him back onto the bed; she knelt, straddled him, on her hands and knees, her blue eyes studied his bottle green, while her hands cradled his head.

“Thank you for coming back,” Gia said, “Must be starving, lets get something.”

“Not hungry,” Harry said.

Gia got off the bed, reached for his hand, grabbed, and pulled him upright.

“You should be, lets go,” Gia said.

Gia pulled, Harry followed, down the steps and out the front door.

“I don’t have a wallet on me,” Harry said, streets blocks along, the warm evening sun having loosened his testicles to dangle low beneath his hard dick, while he clapped his bare buttocks, “New school uniform?”

“Like you can talk,” Gia said, “Ron caught me changing, didn’t feel like dressing, besides, didn’t you fix your arse?”

“Nope, not yet,” Harry said.

“Lets see if this is the one,” Gia said, loosening her bra. Her breasts hung freely as she worked the cloth, it fell apart as she pulled out a twenty pound note. “This’ll do.”

“You’ve got others, right?” Harry asked, holding the torn cloth.

“Yep,” Gia said.

Harry put the brassiere into the rubbish bin they were passing.

“Suppose you’re suggesting I lose the underwear too,” Gia said, hinting at her blue panties.

“That’d be nice,” Harry said, his hard erection still swaying freely as they walked, “Though, I had to—three times my todger got spent today.”

They entered King’s Fish & Chips . Gia paid for a double order, carried it to the bar like table next to the window. Harry sat on the turnstile seat, his testicles hung over the edge. Gia sat to his left.

“You had no idea what you signed me up for,” Harry grumbled.

“If it’s anything like I’ve had to go through many times over,” Gia said, “She’d cover your anatomy, figured you wouldn’t mind that.”

“But that was school, them,” Harry said.

“Know why I like you naked?” Gia asked, while blowing against a strip of the chicken.

“You like seeing me naked,” Harry said.

“That too,” Gia said, “But you feel more open, more honest, like this, warmer.”

Harry smiled.

“I mean it,” Gia said, “So what? They get to know the real you, why hide it?”

“I guess,” Harry said, “Kinda wanted to keep it from them.”

“I’m not ashamed, not jealous,” Gia said, “Don’t mind them seeing you as I see you. Besides, sure Ron loved it.”

Harry snorted. Gia felt the chicken strip, held it between her boobs.

“We’re doing that again?” Harry asked.

“Are you interested in eating it?” Gia asked.

“A bit,” Harry said.

“Good,” Gia said, handing him the chicken, “I want you fed. So, cut you a deal. Half the basket and I’ll lose the knickers right here. Don’t eat it, and they stay on all night long.”

“You wouldn’t—” Harry said.

“I would,” Gia said, “Madam Pomfrey’s right, you need to eat. Trust me that I’ll push on you to eat, and I expect you to follow through, understood?”

“Suppose,” Harry grumbled.

“Good,” Gia said, “Need sauce? I’m watching you.”

“No,” Harry said, working the chicken between his teeth. He ate.

“We can play airplane,” Gia said, holding a chip toward him, “What do your people call it?”

“I was raised normally…if you consider the Dursleys normal,” Harry replied.

Harry ate, bit after bit, as Gia brought it to his lips. After a bit, Harry put his hands forward.

“Full,” Harry said.

“Here,” Gia handed him one of the sodas.

“Thanks,” Harry said, “Not quite half.”

Gia studied it.

“Did better than I expected,” Gia said, “I love and care about you, understand that. Promise to do better—promise, alright?”

“Guess so,” Harry said.

“If I remove my knickers?” Gia asked.

“Yes,” Harry said.

Gia stood enough to slip her blue panties off, she put them onto the table along with the small change.

“Be a tip for somebody,” Gia said.

“You’re better like this too,” Harry said.

Harry turned a bit more, watched as Gia worked the rest. His left hand reached over, tickled her clitoris as she ate, his dick stiffened again.

“I need to eat, not choke,” Gia said.

“Oh,” Harry said, pulling back.

Gia ate, finished, before she grabbed the soda. She carried the large soda cup, sipping, as they left. They turned, followed High Street. Gia brought him into a small shop, dark air, cards on the shelves, crystal balls on the tables.

“I figured this is fake,” Gia said, “Still.”

Gia took a stack of cards, pulled out one with a bird.

“Graceful, like you,” Gia said.

A shrewd look from the lady behind the counter, and they left.

“It’s not like we made it a secret we’re not carrying anything,” Gia said.

“Can’t,” Harry said, seeing her naked, like him.

They stopped at the intersection. Gia held his loose testicles beneath the hard erection jutting forward, they got close, she leaned down and kissed him. Harry hugged her. A shrewd glance from a passing man, a honk from a car, and they separated, walked across the street.

They walked along a path that entered a park, to a wide creek, with a bit of a pond. A few teenage boys down to their underwear were in it, splashing about under the dimming sky.

“How good is your swimming?” Gia asked.

“I won’t sink, alright,” Harry said, “I’d rather fly over it, though.”

They went down the embankment, stood next to it. Several boys blushed as they glanced at Harry and Gia; Harry’s hard erection still jutting outward.

“We could—” Gia took a step for the water.

Harry, though, pushed, sat her on the edge of the grass, legs over the dirt, leaned her back, and knelt.

“Oh?” Gia asked.

“Why not?” Harry asked, pushing her to lay on the grass.

Harry hooked her lower calf muscles over his shoulders as he leaned forward. He brought his tongue to her clitoris, his fingers rubbed. Some snickers from the boys behind him, watching. Harry, though, moved his tongue, rubbed, before it entered into her lace, pushed into her vagina. He began to feel with his tongue, his fingers teasing her clitoris.

“I have to…” Gia muttered.

Harry tasted the sudden rush of bitterness, smelled it, as the warm liquid poured upward. He realized she was peeing, but Harry also knew to keep at it, to not judge. Harry kept licking, lapping, and Gia giggled; she did not stop, kept pissing onto Harry’s face as he worked her. His right fingers kept working her clitoris, while the left entered alongside his tongue, massaged. She breathed deeply, inhaling, exhaling, and he felt the tension easing in her wall inside. Tension swept through her muscles until they relaxed and she breathed easier. Harry heard the distinctive sound, smelled the foul smell, and pushed back away from her; held her legs in position as her anus dilated, let her brown sludge out.

“Sorry,” Gia muttered.

“It’s alright,” Harry said, thankful his cock was out of the way of the dropping hazard.

Harry glanced at the other boys, each trying to hide the pole in their briefs as they reached for denim trousers and left. Gia stopped, moved backward to sit before standing.

“I thought it was just gas,” Gia said.

“Shit happens,” Harry said, “Lets go home?”

“Got anything to wipe?” Gia asked.

Harry shook his head. Gia went to the water, felt it with her toe.

“Too cold,” Gia said.

“Not too far, I don’t think,” Harry said.

Harry wished he had brought his wand, a cleaning charm would easily scrub the crack clean, the brown smudges betrayed her. They left the park, walked along.

“I take it you don’t have those courses?” Gia asked.

“No,” Harry said, “And I had to demonstrate the condom.”

“Good model to demonstrate with,” Gia said, glancing at his hard erection swinging with his gait.

“Guess who volunteered to partner with me so I could demonstrate it’s use?” Harry said, “Ginny.”

“With the way you described her, likely the best way to resolve that,” Gia said, “I mean, after all, you did use protection with her.”

“I wasn’t planning to do her—ever!” Harry said, “She’s Ron’s little sister, had a crush on me—”

“I can relate,” Gia said.

“She finally got her wish,” Harry said.

“Your dick’s still good, right?” Gia asked.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Harry asked.

“Girls get asked the same question after another guy’s found out,” Gia said.

“Oh,” Harry muttered.

They made it back to 26 Oak.

“Hey,” Richard said, coming up to them, “Nice bum Gia.”

Gia blushed.

“I had to wait to clean,” Gia said.

They entered the house; went up the stairs. Gia went into the bathroom, used a washcloth, cleaned Harry’s face before she cleaned herself. Harry and Gia went into her bedroom; he laid on the bed, arms and legs wide. Gia got her math textbook from her bag, sat on the edge of the bed, her left hand worked around his hard erection, teasing it.

“Rough Day,” Harry said.

“At least once a year we’ve had it,” Gia said, “Sorry if I’m a bit less sympathetic, nice knowing what to stick where.”

Knock! Knock!

“Hey, Gia, it’s me,” Richard said, “Need to talk.”

“Come in,” Gia said.

Richard came in, starkers, his soft circumcised penis hung from his brown pubic hair beneath the smooth chest, his nipples pronounced and erect.

“Busy?” Richard asked.

Gia, though, leaned over, sniffed near Richard’s crotch, wiped a bit of white dust from his thigh.

“Baby powder?” Gia asked.

“Mum’s tired of replacing all the underwear Ant destroys,” Richard said, “Bit of that reduces chaffing, makes it more comfortable in my trousers.”

“In a pinch, suppose you could borrow mine,” Harry said, “Fitted for…exactly that.”

“Might try that,” Richard said.

“Keep that up,” Harry said to Gia.

Her finger was teasing into his foreskin, as it slid beneath, worked his glans.

“Thought you weren’t interested tonight,” Gia said.

“Feels good,” Harry said, “Nice spot.”

“It’s why we have sex–ed,” Gia said.

“They teach you that?” Harry asked.

“Only that this is sensitive skin for you,” Gia said, “Rest is left as an exercise to the reader.”

“Had something?” Harry asked Richard.

Richard’s eyes fixated on Harry’s hard cock, jutting upward, as Gia’s fingers kept teasing and massaging the pink glans.

“Mum freaked when she heard about your incident Harry,” Richard said.

Harry fixed his eyes onto Richard’s. Harry’s eyes strayed for a moment, Gia’s hand ran the length of his cock, returned to teasing his glans.

“I didn’t have to say anything,” Richard said, “Ron didn’t say much, just that it was critical.”

“It wasn’t that serious,” Harry said.

“Not serious?!” Gia stammered, “Transfusions—two pints from me!”

Richard’s hands worked at the two small flabs of fat on his stomach.

“Might want to go down and see Mum, she’s probably back by now,” Richard said, “She’s got your wallet, Harry.”

“Why?” Harry asked.

“Guess you left it here,” Richard said, “Ant stole it, tried to use your debit card. Mum’s got a question or two for you about it. Though she’ll be interested in how you didn’t realize it was missing yet it rang up as stolen.”

“Can’t fool the goblins,” Harry said, “They run the wizarding bank.”

“Aw, great protections then,” Richard said.

“You can say that,” Harry said.

“I’d recommend going to see Mum, like now,” Richard said.

“Alright, alright,” Harry said.

Harry drifted off for a moment, Gia’s rubbing had gotten to him, his dick tensed and released, his sticky white flew upward, poured down the side of his penis, laying trails and puddles in his pubic hair. Harry got up, went down the steps into the living room.

“Good evening,” Kristen said, she put a novel down into her lap. She was in her police sweats, legs propped up onto the coffee table.

“Richard said it was urgent,” Harry said.

Kristen studied the naked teenager with his unkempt jet black hair standing casually in her living room. Semen dribbling from his partially soft penis, the liquid glistened from the shaft, while beads of the snot drifted down through the wild forest of his pubic hair.

“Rumors of your demise at school were greatly exaggerated I see,” Kristen said.

“They tend to overreact to a stubbed toe,” Harry said, not wanting to explain magical healing if she knew the full extent.

“I’ve got your wallet in the study,” Kristen said, “Apparently you misplaced it in Gia’s bedroom, and Andrea tried to get a finders fee from you. Did you authorize this?”

“No,” Harry said, “Didn’t even realize she had taken it—don’t typically need it at school.”

“This bank…Gringotts , did a bit of research,” Kristen said, “It seems to be a rather small bank. Where is it?”

“Tiny corner of London,” Harry said, “Got good security.”

“Evidently, yes, if they knew it was stolen before you knew it was missing,” Kristen said, “Feels a bit dodgy, though, like it’s a front to something else that’s…don’t get your money mixed up with organized crime.”

“I inherited my parents’ account there,” Harry said, “It’s alright. Thanks for the wallet back, I’ll get back to Gia.”

Kristen could see the evidence of that, though Harry’s dick was now soft. Kristen nodded. Harry went back up the stairs; Richard was still in Gia’s bedroom.

“So, where is Ant?” Harry asked.

“Jail,” Richard said, grin on his face, “Mum’s punishment for her—and she only doles that out when it’s really serious. Did it once after that car incident a couple years ago, but Ant’s in there every several months.”

“Richard!” Jen shouted through the door, “Stop trying to pick up other women and get out here!”

“See ya,” Richard said to Harry and Gia; he left.

Harry closed and locked the door. He turned out the light, climbed into bed.

Chapter Text

“Harry, you recovered from near death—” Gia protested as Harry guzzled down the coffee in the kitchen the next morning.

“It means I didn’t get my run in yesterday,” Harry said, turning to the water pitcher.

“You’re going to piss the whole way again?” Gia asked.

“Yep,” Harry said.

“Like he said,” Richard replied.

Harry retracted his foreskin as he crossed the living room. He was barely out the front door when he began to piss. Richard started.

“Sorry for worrying you too much,” Harry said, “Gotta understand, we’ve simply got better healing. Take Gia’s father, or that hike.”

“But Ron would’ve known that, right?” Richard said, “Even he seemed worried.”

“Okay, they might have thought it serious, but I’m better now,” Harry said, “And able to handle a full stomach of coffee in the morning.”

“I’m not saying to divulge anything,” Richard said, “Just try to think of something better for my folks, alright?”

“It’s tough keeping it straight in my head,” Harry said, “I might clue Ron in, let him know that you know, make that easier. And the debit card—how do I explain that a goblin personally checks that it’s me when I go to use it?”

“Aw,” Richard said.

“Yeah, aw,” Harry replied.

A bit later, Harry and Richard returned. Harry ran up the stairs, grabbed his Portkey and Wand, activated. A moment later, he landed in his four poster bed at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry . He climbed out of the curtains, walked into the shower. He turned on the knob, only a mist came out of the shower head before it stopped.

“Blimey!” Harry exclaimed, shaking the shower head.

Pink, pink, and yellow flower petals began to flutter, poured down from the shower head.


Colin was there, camera aimed at Harry in the shower.

“Colin!” Harry barked.

“Turn around, lemme get that arse crack,” Colin said.

“Get the fuck OUT!” Harry growled.

Harry tried the other shower head, it poured out orange and Gryffindor red flower petals.

Click! Click!

Harry gave up on the shower, and knew he couldn’t use the Portkey with Colin there; nor did he want to go into the other dormitories. He resigned himself to not showering, hoping he could do it later, and went over to his trunk. Colin brought the camera close to Harry’s genitals with the soft todger hanging there, aimed it.

Click! Click!

“Get out you…Slytherin!” Harry barked.

“Alright, alright,” Colin said, backing away, camera around his waist.

Click! Click!

Colin went out the door. Harry rummaged in his trunk.

An owl dropped it’s newsprint into the clutches of Hermione in the Great Hall. She laid down the special edition of Witch Weekly near her light breakfast when Neville came in. He blushed as he passed.

“Come on, sit,” Hermione said, pointing to the bench next to her.

“You’re dating me,” Ron said, before working a sausage patty into his mouth, “Remember?”

“Neville’s a friend too,” Hermione retorted to Ron.

Neville sat on the bench.

“Get a bit closer you two,” Seamus said, passing them, “Hate to break it to you Ron, but are you sure she wasn’t alone last night?”

“She slept with me,” Ron said.

“Thank him for covering up the truth,” Seamus retorted.

“Ignore him,” Neville whispered as Seamus moved along, “He’s just mad that you haven’t slept with him.”

“Why would I want to sleep with him?” Hermione asked.

“Rumor is…sorry, I’m just saying what I’ve heard,” Neville said, “That you’ll sleep with anybody.”

“MOVE!” Ron barked at Neville.

Neville did this, moved down to sit with Seamus.

“Ignore them,” Hermione said.

“Interesting,” Ron said, as Harry entered the Great Hall.

“What’s in today’s trash?” Harry asked as he came to them.

Hermione glanced, saw the flower petals in his hair.

“New fashion?” Hermione asked as Harry sat. Ron shoved the plate of sausage patties in front of Harry.

“Tell me you didn’t do something to the shower,” Harry asked.

“In the shower, yes,” Ron said, “Why the flowers?”

Harry ran his hand back through his hair, pulled a couple more petals out.

“Lovely pictures from yesterday’s lessons,” Hermione said, showing the one of Harry banging Ginny.

“If you see any of Colin’s cameras, bust them,” Harry said, “RON!”

Ron held a sausage near Harry’s face. Harry grabbed it, nibbled at it.

“I know this wasn’t your idea,” Hermione said, “I mean, no foreplay, no teasing, you went straight in, did your business, and got out.”

“Great, she’s knowing your dick too,” Ron said.

“Who doesn’t?” Harry grumbled, “Showing it to you, Hermione, and Gia—that was wonderful. I didn’t want it to become communal property with the whole fucking world!”

“Want me to read Ginny’s interview over it?” Hermione asked.

“No,” Harry stated.

“Hey,” Ron said as he pointed.

Harry stopped sipping the pumpkin juice from his cup, glanced up at the Staff Table. A tall and slender warlock, dressed in sky blue robes, was standing next to Dumbledore. Professor McGonagall walked along the aisle, handed out a revised schedule to Harry.

“It’d help if you were on time for a change Mr. Potter,” Professor McGonagall said.

Professor McGonagall kept on passing out the schedules to the Gryffindor table, while Professor Flitwick was handing out schedules to the Ravenclaw table. With a slow rise, Dumbledore’s hand trembled on his cane as he stood; the other hand gripped his chair.

“Good morning,” Dumbledore said, “ … Another day. … To my right is … Victor Fallerschain, … the Minister of Magic. … During his stay, … you are to … give him … your full cooperation.”

Minister Fallerschain swept past Dumbledore, his eyes roved across the hall at the various students.

“As you are all aware,” Minister Fallerschain said, “I am crusading against the waste and corruption that has gripped the Ministry for so many ages. This crusade has caught the eye of your board of governors. At their request, I will be personally conducting an audit into the affairs of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry . Within several days, with your help, we should be able to find efficiencies to be had and reduce the unnecessary overhead expense to better allow your teachers to educate you with maximum results.

“With the help of my assistants, we will interview every student. Professor McGonagall has graciously reworked your schedules to accommodate the interviews. Together we can improve Hogwarts so that it can still be a beaming icon of Britain that shines throughout the world, an institute that has produced the finest of Wizards and Witches through the ages.

“Thank you for your valuable input.”

Neville raised his eye as he peered at the schedule.

“Professor McGonagall appeared frustrated at last night’s Prefect meeting,” Dean said from nearby, “With all of the demands of the week, I think she gave up trying to make it work. It’s a small break for everybody, save the interviews.”

Ron read his schedule. “Bugger, likely saving the juiciest for last.”

“More than we needed to know,” Seamus said.

Harry stood, Ron and Hermione followed, along with the exodus of the other students.

“Suppose with this time—Quidditch practice?” Ron asked.

“Sure,” Harry said.

“You’re not supposed to—” Hermione started.

“I can still advise the others,” Harry said.

Ron and Harry made up the steps fast to their dormitory. Harry reached for his Quidditch Robes, paused, and stripped; kicked off his shoes.

“Doing that again?” Ron asked.

“Quidditch ought to be played naked, so much nicer,” Harry said, “But this is Hogwarts.”

Harry put his Quidditch Robes on, cinched the belt tight.

“We’ve got the Minister here, remember that,” Hermione said, entering the dormitory.

“He’s interviewing students, not playing Quidditch,” Harry said.

Harry mounted his Firebolt, opened the window, and flew out into the sunny morning. Ron followed, and most of the the Gryffindor Quidditch team gathered at the pitch. They practiced.

As the morning drew to a close, Ron led most of the team back up to the castle. Harry, meanwhile, felt hot and sweaty, but wasn’t ready to return, so he flew over to the edge of the lake, near the forest and landed. He removed his Quidditch Robes and put the robes with his broom on the ground. Harry took the few steps into the lake; the water had some bite, but he could tolerate it. Harry swam out, touched the remains of an old swimming platform, returned to the shore; he repeated this several times.

Friday morning, Harry’s testicles jostled as he returned to 26 Oak, his legs flexed as he ran up the stairs, and launched himself into the bed; Gia was still curled up on her side, the covers just in front of her. Harry laid on her, his hard cock and balls on her hip. His right hand slipped between the sheet, felt her breasts, while his left went across her back. He kissed her cheek.


“Good morning,” Harry said.

“Been only a half hour,” Gia said, “Besides, got school.”

“That’s not for an hour,” Harry said, “Got plenty of time.”

Harry’s right hand reached down, felt the string out of her vagina.

“Not now,” Gia said, “Tonight.”

Harry got off her, knelt next to her, reached down, raised her right leg with his right hand, while the left tugged at the string.

“Told ya,” Gia said as Harry pulled out the blood soaked tampon, “Be a sweetie, put a new one in.”

“After a shower,” Harry said.

Harry got off the bed, Gia followed, around the sharp corner into the bathroom. He put the used tampon into the rubbish, stepped into the shower, turned on the water. He pulled Gia in, worked the apple shampoo into her hair.

“Hope you don’t mind,” Richard said as he entered the bathroom, sat on the toilet.

“We were just showering,” Gia said, now lathering Harry up.

“Harry explained it,” Richard said, “That shower just does water, not flower petals.”

“I would’ve loved to have seen that,” Gia said to Harry.

“I’m sure the pictures are being published,” Harry said, “Richard here is one thing, I just wish it wasn’t newsworthy when I’m taking a shower!”


“Be quick,” Richard said, using some toilet paper to wipe, “I need to shower too.”

“Safer here,” Harry said.

Richard stood up. “And you’re tempted to loiter,” Richard said as his hand shook his own genitals, “It is a school day.”

Harry and Gia finished washing and rinsing themselves. Harry turned off the water, handed her a towel, while grabbing one for himself. They returned to the bedroom; where Harry guided her back to laying on the bed, on her back. Harry straddled her, leaned down, brought his hard cock toward her.

“I told you, I don’t have the time,” Gia said, “Tonight, and, you need to put the new tampon in.”

Harry got off the bed, opened the top drawer to her dresser, and brought out the slender package. He pulled the wrapper. He knelt on the bed as Gia spread her legs apart.

“Like you would do with your dick,” Gia said.

Harry’s left fingers pulled her labia apart, while the right clumsily tried to insert it.

“Here,” Gia said, taking the tampon. She demonstrated inserting it. “There.”

“Bit too full now,” Harry said, wagging his hard erection.

“Like I said, tonight,” Gia said, “You need to get to school too.”

“Torture, waiting,” Harry said.

“You’ll manage,” Gia replied.

Harry grabbed his Portkey, his wand, and he activated it.

After breakfast, Harry, Ron, and Hermione went to the library to pass the time.

“I’m guessing we’re last,” Ron said.

“Likely,” Harry said.

“A little Quidditch to get the mind off of it,” Ron said.

“No!” Hermione said, “The Minister for Magic is watching! I heard he wasn’t too pleased with your impromptu practice yesterday!”

“He gave us a load of free time,” Ron said, “What’d he expect? Study?”

“This is a school Ronald,” Hermione said, “Of course he’d expect you to study.”

“Quidditch is sacred!” Ron replied.

“Of course it is,” Harry said.

“Thanks Harry,” Ron said.

Hermione glared.

“There is another way to pass the time,” Ron said, his eyes steadied themselves on Hermione.

“It’s the library!” Hermione said.

“Your wildest dream,” Ron said, “But, we’ll just bang quietly.”

Harry snickered.

“It’s not funny,” Ron said.

“Yes it is, go ahead,” Harry said, “I give you permission.”

“Harry!” Hermione quipped.

“If you want to be discreet, keep it in the restricted section,” Harry said.

“The restricted section it is!” Ron announced.

“No!” Hermione said.

“Later?” Ron asked.

Hermione remained mum.

“Feel my todger,” Ron said.

Hermione did reach, undid his zipper, and felt inward, at the hard erection beneath.

“Need me to toss you?” Hermione asked, sarcastically.

“Yeah, sure,” Ron said.

Hermione pulled the erection, brought it out of Ron’s trousers, so it was jutting outward above the edge of the chair. His foreskin slipped as her hand began to stroke. Harry moved back, glanced beneath the table, before he sat back up.

“Faster than arguing,” Hermione said to Harry.

“Yep,” Ron said. He could tell she was going for expediency, and that Hermione had the technique down. Quickly, Ron felt the tension build up and release, as his orgasm sent out his seed, and Ron relaxed. Hermione waited before grabbing a tissue and wiped; she stuffed the softening dick back into the trousers, and zippered them shut. “Thanks.”

“Ron now likes the library,” Harry said to Hermione.

“Hmph!” Hermione exclaimed.

“I feel better,” Ron said, “Thank you Hermione.”

They remained in the library, focused on reading. Harry and Ron worked on a couple of overdue essays until the mid morning bell.

“It’s time,” Harry said.

They packed up their bookbags, made to the fifth floor and approached the office as Dean Thomas came out.

“Where’ve you been?” Dean asked.

“They saved the best for last,” Ron said.

“That’s rich,” Dean said.

Harry led the way into the office.

“You’re late!” Minister Fallerschain snapped.

“Where’s Dumbledore—?” Harry asked.

“Unnecessary—” Minister Fallerschain said.

“We were told—” Harry protested.

“I AM running this show!” Minister Fallerschain said, “Unless you’re saying you’re guilty of something, you won’t need him. Mr. Ronald Weasley will be first—”

“Just start asking—” Ron said.

“Unless you intend to obstruct official Ministry business…” Minister Fallerschain said.

Ron followed Minister Fallerschain into an inner office. A solitary chair was beside the door, while a desk was on the other end of the office. Ron sat on the chair while Minister Fallerschain sat on the desk. With a flick of Minister Fallerschain’s yew wand, the door locked itself and shimmered for a moment. Another flick and the illumination in the office shifted and concentrated the light onto Ron, for Ron could no longer see Minister Fallerschain or the bare walls. A scratching of a quill onto parchment could be heard.

“A Quick Quotes Quill will be used,” Minister Fallerschain asked, “Will that be alright?”

“No,” Ron said.

However, the minister ignored this, the Quick Quotes Quill became active.

“For the record, state your full name, your date of birth, and describe your wand.”

“Ronald Bilius Weasley. March 1st, 1980. Fourteen inches, unicorn tail–hair in willow.”

“Do you have any friends?”

“Yes, Harry and Hermione.”

“When did you first meet them?” Minister Fallerschain asked.

“On my first train to Hogwarts,” Ron said, “How relevant is this?”

“Context,” the Minister said, “And I’d know how uncomfortable this makes everybody, so a bit of pleasantness before we get to the rest of the questions.”

“Oh,” Ron said.

“Five years ago, was an object of immense value was stored at Hogwarts?” the Minister asked.

It took Ron a moment.

“You mean the Philosopher’s Stone?” Ron asked.

“Yes, that,” Minister Fallerschain said, “Is it true that it was guarded?”

“Yes,” Ron said.

“How did he protect it?” the Minister asked.

“Traps,” Ron said, “We barely made it.”

“In a school?” the Minister asked.

“Yes,” Ron said.

“So, did the Headmaster value this object over the lives of the students that he’s been obligated to protect?” the Minister asked.

“Um…” Ron muttered.

“Now, for your second year,” the Minister said, “Did you or did you not fly a car into the Whomping Willow?”

“Yes,” Ron said, “Didn’t mean to, we lost power.”

“But the Headmaster elected not to expel you?” the Minister asked.

“It wasn’t his decision to make,” Ron asked.

“As Headmaster, it is always his decision,” the Minister said, “Who paid for the damages?”

“So you are saying that you deliberately helped Sirius Black escape?” Minister Fallerschain asked Harry, nearly an hour after his interview had started, which had followed Ron’s and Hermione’s half hour each.

“Sirius Black is innocent!” Harry stammered. Harry rubbed his forehead.

“I do not hold you to blame,” Minister Fallerschain said, “I’m sure that is what the Headmaster wanted you to believe.”

“He is!” Harry snapped.

“Just like him not holding you accountable when you slipped your name into the Goblet of Fire,” the Minister said.

“I didn’t do it,” Harry said.

“Sure, good thing the Headmaster bought that,” the Minister said, “What a shame he didn’t pull you out of the contest.”

“I had no choice!” Harry said, “It was a binding contract!”

“A contract that could have been satisfied by a little dueling contest,” the Minister said, “Declare a winner, and hold the rest of the festivities as a beauty contest. Fleur Delacour would have won, though I’m sure your Headmaster would have put a vote in for Cedric Diggory instead, that was a shame.”

“Cedric was murdered!” Harry said.

“Convenient way to win,” the Minister said.

“I did not!” Harry exclaimed.

“Of course not,” the Minister said, “A thousand Galleons says it was somebody else.”

“It was not me,” Harry said, “I need Professor Dumbledore.”

“No need to bother the Headmaster,” the Minister said, “Lets move on. It was nicely generous how the Headmaster nominated you to take credit with supposedly saving Hogwarts last term.”

“It was occupied,” Harry said, “We freed them.”

“Sure, an underage wizard?” the Minister said, “Doubtful, but good cover for the Headmaster’s own incompetence allowing for the situation to happen in the first place. Alas, the North Tower is no longer there.”

“Voldemort destroyed it!” Harry sputtered.

“Do not say his name!” the Minister scolded.

“Fear of a name—” Harry started.

“Just how many times have you been to the Hospital Wing, this term?” the Minister asked.

The interview continued for another half hour.

“I’m sorry if I was rough,” the Minister said, “Tough questions must be asked.”

“Whatever,” Harry said as he left the inner office.

“Thought he was about to kidnap you,” Ron said as they went into the corridor.

They went up, passed Peeves plugging gum into another door lock, and entered the Gryffindor Common room. Seamus and Parvati were snogging on the sofa.

“That was an interrogation, not an interview,” Harry complained, “Wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“Your fault for not taking an adult!” Seamus said as he glanced upward, “Quit your whining—he’s a great Minister! With this audit—he’s fantastic! We spent the time talking about Quidditch and the Falmouth Falcons—”

“He had it in for me—” Harry said.

“Just because you couldn’t exert your influence on him?” Seamus said, “In the two weeks on the job, he’s boosted donations to St. Mungo’s by fifty percent, slashed tons of Ministry waste. That waste will be used for research into better ways of fighting the Dark Arts!”

“Not only that,” Parvati said, “He’s banned Dark Arts shops from Diagon Alley and revoked the lease for Fun and Power. Rumor is that Knockturn Alley will be cleared out and called Diagon Lane.”

“That’s all good, but it doesn’t excuse his inquisition!” Harry said before he went up the stairs.

He entered the sixth year boys’ dormitory, Ron and Hermione followed.

“TERMITES!” yelled first year Ash, as he ran in, headed straight for Harry, “TERMITES!”

“Where?” Hermione asked.

“Wh…” Ash went silent, left the room.

“He’s as comfortable on a broom as you are,” Harry said to Hermione, “Unless he’s riding with me.”

“Fancy that,” Hermione said.

Harry rubbed his forehead.

“Good he left, that was a horrible interview,” Harry said, “This audit—fishier than fish and chips.”

“Efficiency is good,” Hermione said.

“Why the focus on us then?” Harry said, “Everybody else was five or ten minutes, me, over an hour. You heard Seamus, but also the Minister making a fuss about our wanting Dumbledore with us.”

“We do interact with Dumbledore more,” Ron said, “It just happens.”

“And Minister Fallerschain thinks of it as unhealthy,” Hermione said, “Like… like—”

“I’m not worth it,” Harry said.

“Don’t say that,” Ron said, “Dumbledore does have to spend more on security—”

“Favoring me—” Harry said.

“But none of the other students has a madman after him,” Hermione said.

“It felt personal,” Harry said, “Like he had it for me, that Dumbledore is spending too much on me for teachers, security, and medical.”

“You do cost more,” Hermione said, “Madam Pomfrey thinks you need a personal nurse in the infirmary. Demeantors were stationed around Hogwarts after Sirius escaped Azkaban, because of you. Professor Lupin said that Professor Tonks was hired just for you. So, it’s probably correct to say that Professor Dumbledore is spending more on you than others.”

“Great! We’ve got Voldemort after us all,” Harry said, “And the Minister’s concern is that we’re breaking the budget?”

“Something like that,” Hermione said, “And Parvati did have a point. This Minister Fallerschain has already made a bunch of improvements and he’s turned his attention to Hogwarts. Your name undoubtedly shows up on the ledgers, so that naturally gets his attention.”

“Any dirt on this Minister?” Harry asked, rubbing his scar, again.

“Skeeter’s found nothing so far,” Ron said, “So he’s clean—why?”

“Harry—” Hermione said, “Spit it out—you felt something—”

“Nothing significant,” Harry said, “Just a mild tingle—it was slight—”

“You’re scaring us—” Ron said.

“Like you’re expecting me to say I sneezed and my scar tingled!’ to Dumbledore!” Harry said, “If it sears like a hot poker, then I’ll tell him. Until then, it’s just my imagination—”

“Has it ever tingled before?” Hermione asked.

Harry shook his head.

“Give him a break—” Ron said, “It’s likely all that blood I gave him Tuesday—”

Harry snorted.

“Let’s just keep our minds open for now,” Harry said, “If it gets worse or continues, we’ll go to Dumbledore. In the meanwhile, though he seems a bastard, he is doing right.”

“Constant vigilance!” Ron stated.

Harry gave Ron a shove, and grabbed his Quidditch Robes.

“Good idea,” Ron said.

“And your universal answer to anything,” Hermione said.

“Life’s too short not to have Quidditch,” Ron said.

Harry stripped and put on the Quidditch Robes. Ron did the same.

“You’re flying starkers beneath those?” Hermione said.

“We’re always naked beneath our clothes,” Harry said, “Besides, I like the breeze.”

Harry mounted his Firebolt, opened the window, and flew out. A gale wind blew Harry to the side as he headed toward the Quidditch Pitch, the rain drenched his robes.

“Alright, maybe not this breezy,” Harry said as the wind kept his robes up, his buttocks exposed. His bare feet sank several inches into the waterlogged grass.

“You two are mad!” Josh Brenner said, coming along in the heavy rain to the Quidditch Pitch.

“Nobody else wanted to book the field,” Ron said.

“It’s pouring cats and dogs!” Ginny protested.

“We’ve played in worse,” Harry said, remembering his match during his third year.

“Like this does anything,” Ginny said, as the breeze blew her robes upward, exposing her bare buttocks.

“Ginny!” Ron protested.

“Like you’re wearing anything underneath either,” Ginny said, “We followed your example.”

One by one, they followed Ginny’s idea, to remove their Quidditch Robes, hang them underneath the stands. Colin even hung up his camera.

“At least they’ll be dry when we’re done,” Ginny said.

All eight stood there, naked, for a moment. Neither Justin nor Paul Prewett had any significant pubic hair, only a couple of small wafts. They got onto their brooms, flew upward.

“Okay, lets divy up, four on four,” Ron said.

“You and Harry different sides,” Ginny said.

“Okay,” Ron said.

They split up; Ginny went with Ron’s team, and Ron tossed up the Quaffle. Justin and Paul batted a Bludger between them. Their pink skin streaked the sky as they flew, their own balls tightly contracted.

“Have you seen the Snitch?” Ginny asked.

Harry glanced at her, right in front of him, bent over, her buttocks, her vagina bared at him.

“No!” Harry snapped.

Harry caught the glimpse of gold, flew over her, headed for the Snitch. He caught it.

“Nice coming in behind,” Ginny said.

“Stop staring at my arse!” Harry snapped.

Harry released the Snitch, as it was practice, not a game, and it flew off. They kept practicing until a greasy voice thundered.


Professor Snape was there, glaring at the drenched team.

“Twenty five points each for trying to catch pneumonia,” Snape stated.

Harry was certain that Snape had forbade himself from showing his gloat. The rest of the team grabbed their Quidditch robes and headed for the castle. Harry, meanwhile, simply grabbed his robes and flew.

Water dripped from his bangs like a shower head as Harry flew. He didn’t like Snape breaking up a perfectly good practice, and he wasn’t ready to return to the castle. Despite the weather, he was hot and sweaty, so he flew over to the edge of the lake, near the forest and landed. He put his robes with his Firebolt on the ground. Harry took the few steps into the lake; the choppy water had some bite, but he could tolerate it. Harry swam out, touched the remains of an old swimming platform, returned to the shore; he repeated this several times.

“Good afternoon … Harry,” said Professor Dumbledore, holding fast on his cane. Professor Dumbledore’s garments were soaked.

Harry stepped out of the water. Harry fully aware that Professor Dumbledore could see everything, including his shrunken scrotum, but this did not feel uncomfortable in the least. Professor Dumbledore conjured up a towel, handed it over to Harry.

“Hello Professor,” Harry said as he dried himself, as futile as that was in the weather.

“A hundred years ago, … the small shower house … burned to the ground,” Professor Dumbledore said, “It turned out … to be a bit … of accidental magic, … from a poor boy … who shared my distaste … for compulsory swimming lessons.”

“Gia can swim, better than me,” Harry said, “Funny seeing you out here.”

“I am Headmaster,” Professor Dumbledore said, “I needed a break … from … duties. Funny running … into you here.”

“After Quidditch,” Harry said, “This seemed like the right idea.”

“No need to justify … enjoying your youth … Harry,” Professor Dumbledore said, “I was…”

Professor Dumbledore’s hand shook, the cane lost its footing on the slick ground, and the elderly wizard began to fall. Harry moved fast, arm around the back, caught him. Professor Dumbledore held onto Harry’s shoulder, though the grip was weak.

“Let’s get back,” Harry said.

“Hagrid’s,” Professor Dumbledore said.

Professor Dumbledore used his cane with his left hand, but his right hand held Harry’s shoulder, while Harry kept his grip on the man. Harry’s right hand summoned his robes, his Firebolt, and he carried those as they walked up the soggy hill, between the grass and the forest, coming to the small, familiar hut. Harry knocked, though there was no answer.

“Duties?” Harry asked.

Professor Dumbledore waved his wand, the door opened. They went in; Harry helped Professor down into one of the chairs already away from the table.

“Thank you … Harry,” Professor Dumbledore said.

Harry put his broom down onto the table, put his robes onto the table, leaned back against the table, unconcerned that his genitals were hanging out for the Professor to see, even with water still dripping from the foreskin.

“You have no shame,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“Oh, these?” Harry asked, as he briefly jostled his wet testicles, “Dunno, kinda just happens. Like this summer.”

“It was well seen,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“Gia and Hermione pranked me,” Harry said, “Caught on, and, well, makes me happy being starkers with Gia. I…” Harry blushed as his dick firmed up fast into a hard cock. “It’s what it is.”

“Obvious,” Professor Dumbledore said, twinkle in his eyes.

A wave from Professor Dumbledore’s wand, and they began to dry off as the fireplace roared to life, heating up the hut.

“I do love her,” Harry said, “I… it’d be easy to perform the Patronus charm, something I struggled with my third year.”

“Then, it is good?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

“Yes,” Harry said.

Harry paced.

“I am happy … for you,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“Take last night,” Harry said, “I worked her pussy, in the park, in front of others. We were naked, but it felt right to do it there. I didn’t care, she didn’t care, and we didn’t mind those other boys witnessing the truth, that I love Gia and she loves me. I…” Harry paused for a moment, leaned back. “Sorry, my dick’s getting too excited thinking about it. Hiding it, hiding us, doesn’t feel right, so yeah, I’m naked with her.”

“Do learn to put on some clothes Mr. Potter,” Professor McGonagall said, entering Hagrid’s hut, “It’s not—”

“Leave Mr. Potter be,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“Sorry to disappoint you Mr. Potter but you are not Madam Pomfrey’s most difficult patient,” Professor McGonagall said, handing over a flask to Professor Dumbledore, “Albus, you do not have time for this—”

“Enjoying a nice day … is never a waste of … time,” Professor Dumbledore said. He made a face of disgust as he sipped the flask. “Make tea.”

Harry wondered about the Headmaster thinking this was a nice day.

“Um…” Harry turned and reached for Hagrid’s kettle, his penis had softened and his back was momentarily toward them.

“You know you need to drink that without tea,” Professor McGonagall said to Professor Dumbledore.

“What is that you’re drinking?” Harry asked.

“Antidote,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Unfortunately, … it is not a cure.”

“Albus!” Professor McGonagall said, “We had agreed it best to not mention this to others.”

“I believe that…Harry deserves the … truth,” Professor Dumbledore said, “I am dying.”

“What?!” Harry stammered, “You can’t die!”

“Relax,” Professor Dumbledore said, “It will take … some time. You … of all people … know it happens. … Some refuse to accept it … I have. Muggle superstition … we consume children to … steal youth. Maybe … some truth … as a teacher … students infuse me with time.”

“How?” Harry asked.

“Last term when You–Know–Who captured the castle,” Professor McGonagall said, “He poisoned Albus, and it was a dark poison. There is no known cure.”

“Bezoar?” Harry asked.

“That will not work for this,” Professor McGonagall said, “If we were to suspend, to freeze Albus, until a cure can be found—”

“No!” Professor Dumbledore said, “Harry does not have … the time.”

“Me?” Harry said, “Can’t anything be done for Professor Dumbledore? How long has he got?”

“Potions retard the progression, but it is one way,” Professor McGonagall said, “A year, two, maybe even three, we do not know because most go mad before they can be helped.”

“I didn’t realize,” Harry said, “I mean, I noticed the cane, just thought he was finally getting old.”

“Thank you,” Professor Dumbledore said, eyes twinkled.

“As Deputy Headmistress,” Professor McGonagall said, “I am now shouldering his duties.”

“Oh,” Harry uttered.

“Do not discuss this,” Professor McGonagall said, “As you understand the urgency, Albus has chosen to spend his remaining time helping you Mr. Potter. Clearly you acknowledge that You–Know–Who will visit you again at some point.”

“Seems guaranteed,” Harry said.

“And Albus wants you to succeed, even at the cost is his own life,” Professor McGonagall said, “So, be ready.”

“I need to tell Ron and Hermione this,” Harry said.

“They—” Professor McGonagall said.

“Tell them,” Professor Dumbledore said, interrupting.

“That is as far as the news is to go, understood?” Professor McGonagall said, “Regardless of what happens at Hogwarts, that sort of news would undermine us.”

“Yes,” Harry said.

“Now you can use the gap in your schedule for some needed study, Mr. Potter,” Professor McGonagall said.

“Yes Professor,” Harry said.

Harry grabbed his Firebolt and his Quidditch robes, left the hut.

“He did not bother to get dressed!” Professor McGonagall said, “I’ll be right back.”

“Let him be,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“He walked out of here with his privates uncovered and on full display!” Professor McGonagall said, “It’s unhealthy and inappropriate!”

“If he otherwise behaves,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Let him be, it’ll make him stronger.”

“I do not understand your reasoning,” Professor McGonagall said.

“Protect his friendships,” Professor Dumbledore said, “At all costs, … protect them.”

Chapter Text

Gusts blew Harry side to side, he entered through the window into the sixth year boys dormitory. Water dripped from every part of Harry, he dropped his soaked Quidditch robes to the floor. Ron watched the naked Harry enter the other shower stall.

“I tried talking Hermione into here,” Ron said, beneath the hot pouring water, routing the heat to go over his testicles, “She didn’t see the point as she wasn’t wet.”

“Try talking her into the Prefect’s bathroom,” Harry said as he lathered up.

“We’re not Prefects,” Ron said.

“Then only the Prefects can watch you bang, nobody else,” Harry said, his hand working the suds in his pubic hair.

“Don’t know the password,” Ron said.

“So?” Harry said, “Borrow the map if you have to.”

“Maybe after practice tomorrow,” Ron said.

“I’ll be skipping it,” Harry said.

“Practice is in the morning,” Ron said.

“Don’t pull a Wood,” Harry said, “Gia kinda got spooked, so I need to charm her, so it’s a date tonight and more fun over for the weekend.”

“You know the rules,” Ron said, “It’s not supposed to interfere with your studies.”

“And you heard Madam Pomfrey,” Harry said, “I’m not supposed to be practicing Quidditch until Monday.”

“Think we need a talk with Dumbledore on this,” Ron said, walking to leave the shower. Harry followed, both starkers.

“Like that?” Harry asked as Ron reached for the door, “Besides, he’d be on board with this; McGonagall too.”

“You’ve included her on this?” Ron asked.

Harry pushed Ron against the wall, leaned in close, Ron’s dick pushed into Harry’s black pubic hair.

“Dumbledore is dying,” Harry whispered.

“What?!” Ron stammered.

“Don’t tell Hermione, not yet,” Harry whispered, “Last spring was rough, really rough; the old man has a year, maybe three.”

“Have they consulted—how can they be certain?” Ron replied.

“Dumbledore accepts his fate, wants to focus his efforts on the fight,” Harry replied, “Professor McGonagall is effectively Headmistress, though Dumbledore is retaining the title until the end.”

“What if, what if Dumbledore goes first?” Ron asked.

“Don’t think about it,” Harry said, “Anyways, I have to dash.”

Harry went over to his trunk, fingered his Portkey, and activated it. Harry landed in Gia’s bedroom; the bed was empty, though a bottle green dress laid on it. Harry went out of the bedroom, went to Richard’s bedroom, where Jen was inking bit of pastel orange to the canvas.

“Gia’s in the basement,” Jen said, as her eyes flickered to his loose intact penis dangling there.

“Ta,” Harry said.

Harry went down the steps, found Snuffles laying in front of the fireplace. Harry squatted, petted the ears, belly. Snuffles yipped.

“Gia and I’ll be going out,” Harry said, “There’s a show in London she wants to see.”

Harry stood up, went down the next flight of steps, into the laundry room where Gia was busy with the sewing machine. A nice pair of jet black tuxedo trousers were on it, as she stitched. Harry leaned over from her backside, slid his hands down her bare chest, felt the knockers.

“Do you mind?” Gia said, “I need to concentrate on these alterations.”

“What’s wrong with them?” Harry said, “They fit alright…wish they were like Madam Malkin’s.”

“In a way, it will be,” Gia said, “It’ll be a few more minutes, I still need to iron in the creases.”

“Didn’t realize you knew how to sew,” Harry said.

“I dreaded the lessons Mum taught me, got her to stop them,” Gia said, “Wish I hadn’t now, but I was young then, just a kid, I didn’t realize she’d soon be gone. This is the first time I’ve used those lessons since she passed.”

Harry kissed her on the cheek, left the room, returned back up the stairs, through the living room, and up again. He entered the bedroom; laid his wand onto the bed, and grabbed his wallet from the dresser.

“On second thought,” Harry said to Hedwig as he grabbed his wand, “You keep an eye on this.” Harry went to her perch, shoved the wand into the hiding place, the branch was hollow and his wand fit snugly within.

Harry sat on the bed. He’d rather go naked with her, than do anything else, however, they were heading to London, and Harry figured it was best not to push his luck. Harry couldn’t fathom why Kristen’s police would let him, but Harry was accustomed to taking advantage of it, however, that was Noigate, Harry didn’t have such friends in London, and London was where Gia wanted to go. Also, Harry didn’t want trouble in London, not when he was a student at Hogwarts, and would be expected to be staying in Scotland, if he were an ordinary student, but unfortunately, he wasn’t ordinary.

“Ready?” Gia asked, coming into the bedroom, “Try these on.” She handed over the hanger holding his tuxedo.

Harry put the white dress shirt on, felt a bit of breeze on the front, where the front hem had been raised, giving more clearance to his genitals.

“You didn’t like it?” Harry asked as he buttoned the shirt up.

“I did,” Gia said, “May need another tuxedo for other occasions when this won’t do.”

“I’ll look into it,” Harry said as he grabbed the trousers. One leg into the other, he brought the waist band up, went for the zipper, but that had been removed, sewn over. “I kinda need that.”

“No you don’t,” Gia said, “My mother likely could have done it better and kept the zipper.”

“No, no, it’ll do,” Harry said, wondering if he should dash back to Hogwarts for his regular school trousers, the ones that had been modified by Madam Malkin.

Harry pushed his genitals between his legs as he pulled the trousers over them; it was tight, yet, breezy. Gia reached forward, into a new lace–lined hole in the front of his trousers, pulled his todger and bollocks out. Harry suddenly understood the purpose behind Gia’s alterations, her mind was thinking dirty, and he loved her for it, as his cock and balls dangled freely in front. His balls felt the same heat his thighs were, loosened.

“Handwarmers,” Gia said, “Best I could do.”

“It’ll work,” Harry said.

A quick glance at the mirror confirmed that his dick and balls were hanging freely. It felt better than Madam Malkin’s alterations; those simply gave the illusion, whereas with this, his privates were clearly unsupported. However, a hint of nerves, butterflies, went up as he studied his dick; this wasn’t being naked, however, the contrast between the black and his pink skin advertised his balls and dick, more so than simply being naked. And her handwarmers meant nothing would try to pull back in.

“Good,” Gia said as she attached an bottle green clip–on bow tie to Harry’s shirt.

Harry realized that Gia wanted them to match, his tie to her dress. She took the bottle dress, pulled it over her; revealing where the short dress was also altered around her crotch; her entire shaved vagina, from the clitoris, to the lace of her labia peeked out from the carefully crafted hole. Harry definitely understood her message.

“Ready?” Harry asked as he put on the jacket over his shirt.

“Shoes,” Gia said.

Harry put on black socks, and the polished black shoes; he put his wallet into his jacket pocket, put the top hat onto his head, and they went out of the bedroom.

“Can I see?” Jen asked.

Harry and Gia went into the bedroom. Harry adjusted his cuffs, while Jen checked them out. Gia stood there, with the low cut to her strapless dress, without a bra, so the erect nipples showed just below the hem of the emerald cloth. Jen glanced at Harry’s freely hanging loose testicles.

“You’re the first person I’m advising that a thong might go with your tuxedo,” Jen said.

“It’s deliberate,” Gia said.

“I figured that,” Jen said, “Have fun.”

Harry and Gia went out, down the steps, and left the house. Harry quickly came to appreciate the handwarmers with the stiff breeze and light drizzle beneath the dark clouds above; his balls and todger stayed warm and loose. He felt his balls hitting against the heat as they walked; he smiled as it felt good. They passed several people, who gave them funny looks.

“Guess they’re not used to seeing this,” Gia said, “I mean, we’re just going to the theater.”

“Can we skip to the end?” Harry asked.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Gia said, “I mean, of course it’s fun, but you’ll find this more fun, I promise.”

They came to the station for the express train, went onto the northbound platform. They stood. Harry moved her hand to rest his soft todger in it.

“Aim,” Harry said.

Gia quickly understood, aimed his penis, before she noticed a younger girl staring at them. Harry, though, had already relaxed his muscles, and he peed. Gia moved the penis back and forth, drew a wet scribble on the pavement; the other girl smiled, watched, as Harry kept peeing. It wasn’t until the train pulled into the station that Harry realized that he had done it again, his magic had made sure he’d perform for Gia, however, Harry figured it was best not to piss on the train, concentrated to cancel the accidental charm. Gia let the dick down as he stopped; however, the other girl grinned as Harry’s todger sought even more attention and began to rapidly stiffen. Harry’s hard erection jutted outward, away from the very loose testicles, as he and Gia boarded the train. Harry and Gia found a pair of seats that faced each other without a table; he sat, let the bollocks hang over the edge, and leaned back.

“Don’t toss,” Gia said as Harry’s hand neared his hard cock.

Harry sat up.

“Just do it here,” Harry said.

“No,” Gia said, “I want us to act civilized until the end.”

“Torture,” Harry said, “I can see—” his eyes focused on the clitoris, the vagina, peeking out from the bottle green cloth, “Besides, you matched the colors! Except my dick, of course!”

Gia moved, sat next to Harry, the brim of his hat bumped against her head. Her fingers tickled his scrotum, over his testicles.

“I matched your eyes because that’s the color I see every time I look at you,” Gia said, “I’m not showing my kitty, not showing your cock, to offend, but because I felt we needed it. I want you to be tempted, I want to see that you’re tempted—” she fingered his foreskin “—and I want you to resist the urge until the end. Toy, tease, as we like to do, just wait to use it—you seem a bit fidgety.”

“You’re tormenting Harry,” Harry said, “Clear, obvious, and nobody’ll miss it, because this—” he pointed to his exposed penis “—thought going naked was advertising my dick, nope, this is. It stands out because you took the thong out of the tuxedo.”

“You hate it?” Gia asked.

“No, no!” Harry said, “Just get up on the seat a bit more.”

“The end!” Gia said, “At the end of the night, because you’ll get wrinkles into that tuxedo!”

“Oh,” Harry muttered. His hard cock promptly shrunk, softened.

Gia snickered. “You’re funny.” Gia leaned over, kissed Harry on the cheek. “I just need the night, alright?”

“What else are you going to alter?” Harry asked.

“Dunno,” Gia replied.

“Just don’t do my school clothes, alright?” Harry said, “I need to hide it then.”

“Alright, alright, no to the school clothes,” Gia said, “Won’t need them otherwise.”

“Fine by me,” Harry replied.

Meanwhile, Ron loitered in the dormitory after Harry vanished. He had questions for Professor Dumbledore, but Ron wasn’t certain how to bring it up, because starting off with the terminal prognosis wasn’t a very good way to start any conversation. Sure, Ron knew that Dumbledore was old, over a hundred fifty,1 however, the mere thought that Dumbledore would die had seem abstract, but now, its more certain to be now, not some far distant future.

“You’re naked Weasley!” Seamus shouted as the door opened.

“Can’t figure that out for myself,” Ron retorted, “Piss off!”

“Fred said you knew the way to sneak out of the castle,” Ginny said, following Seamus into the room, “I wanted some Butterbeer.”

“Firewhiskey,” Seamus said.

“Like I was even planning to get dressed,” Ron said, irritated.

“Oh, her,” Seamus said, “Assuming she’s not too busy, seen her with a couple of first years.”

“Likely tutoring,” Ron said. He hadn’t really thought about it, but Hermione would be one to tutor.

“As she tutors you, I’m sure,” Seamus said.

“Please,” Ginny said, “It’s a weekend, some butterbeer would be great!”

“Look, do this and…” Seamus thought for a moment. “We’ll clear out the common room, after curfew, so you and her can do whatever, uninterrupted, by the fireplace. Guess you like the heat.”

“You should try it,” Ginny said to Seamus.

“You’ll clear it out?” Ron asked.

“Yeah,” Seamus said.

“Okay,” Ron said, “You two are coming with me, so I don’t have to haul it all back myself.”

Ron found his T–shirt and plaid overshirt; put those on. Ginny and Seamus watched as Ron pulled his boxers over his left foot.

“Hold,” Seamus said, “Ginny, see it?”

“I’ve seen his todger more times than I’d like!” Ginny said.

“It gets the job done,” Ron said, pulling the boxers up. He found the blue jeans in his trunk, put those on. Socks and shoes, Ron grabbed his backpack before he went over to Harry’s trunk.

“Doubling up on Harry’s clothes?” Seamus asked.

“No, family secret,” Ginny said, pushing in next to Ron as he pulled out the piece of parchment, “That’s a family heirloom.”

“If it’s anybody’s family heirloom, it’s Harry’s,” Ron said, “If anything, Fred and George returned it to its rightful heir.”

Ron took out his wand, held it to the map.

“I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good!” Ron exclaimed.

“Watch out for Professor Snape.” Ginny pointed to where Professor Snape was in relation to the statue of the one eyed witch.

“You two plotting?” Seamus asked.

“Yes,” Ron said, turning around.

Ron’s sneakers hit the floor as he walked out of the dormitory, clutching the map. Ginny and Seamus followed, out of Gryffindor Tower, down flights of stairs, until they came to a short ways away from the one eyed witch. Professor Snape was still paroling.

“Remember, Firewhiskey!” Seamus said to Ron. Seamus walked fast before he broke into a run.

“Stop!” Professor Snape barked as Seamus ran past. Professor Snape chased after Seamus, wand drawn.

Ginny and Ron moved to the statue, consulted the map, and whispered the password. The statue moved and they went in.

“Harry should have come with us,” Ginny said.

“Why?” Ron said, “It’s not like he’s wanting Butterbeer or Firewhiskey right now.”

“Where is he?” Ginny asked.

“He’s…busy,” Ron replied as they made their way toward Honeydukes.

Harry caught the eyes as he and Gia strolled through Waterloo station, along the platform, down the escalator, toward the underground. While most of the people seemed to ignore, a handful smirked, grinned, or frowned as the eyes met his crotch. Hairs on his swaying loose balls visible, his foreskin undecided to let a bit of his glans peek out as it bounced around in a partially aroused state, all seemingly disembodied as they stood out against the dark jet black cloth of his tuxedo trousers. Harry felt naughty in this, as it was not a simple accident, it wasn’t even walking around starkers, but instead, it was deliberate because Gia wanted to see them dangle. Still, despite keeping public areas private and making his privates public, Harry enjoyed the feeling and Gia’s smiles having already settled his nerves.

“Here it is,” Harry said as they came to the platform, they ran to get onto the train.

“Mind the gap,” came the announcement.

The doors closed. Gia sat, while Harry held onto the hand rail and stood in front of her.

“Hmmm…” Gia said, her eyes on Harry’s crotch, not his top hat.

Gia’s hands surrounded his testicles, took the taps as the train’s jostling moved them around. Several others on the train watched as his dick stiffened up, the erection jutting outward. Gia blew across it. Harry let his eyes lock on, stare at her clitoris, showing, as it drew his attention away from the onlookers, as Gia was the whole point of this little trip. Harry had no shame in letting their love show. Gia coaxed his foreskin into staying retracted as the train came to a halt at their stop.

“This way,” Harry said.

Gia followed, they held hands, as they went up the escalator, onto the streets, where Harry wished he had more handwarmers; his balls were nice and warm, while his face was getting cold. They walked, taking a small road, to a building, where they went down a couple of flights of stairs, to the simple door; Harry turned the knob, it opened, and they went in. Inside, a small lobby, the interior door marked Nightingale Venus , and a tall man there.

“ID and tickets?” the man asked.

Harry reached into his pocket, took out his wallet, handed both fake IDs over to the man, along with their tickets.

“Enjoy the evening,” the man said, giving back their IDs and the ripped bottom halves of their tickets. “Dinner starts at seven thirty, the show at eight.” The man ignored Harry’s hard erection, but instead, opened the door; Harry and Gia went in, the slow and steady beat of the waltz music met their ears.

Inside were three terrace levels of tables, and a stage above the lowest tier; only a couple of steps were between each, enough to let one tier see over the heads of the next in order to watch the small stage. Harry and Gia found their table on the middle tier that matched their ticket stubs.

“And so we wait until seven?” Harry asked, as he ignored another couple waltzing on the stage.

“Think they mean this,” Gia said, pulling Harry’s hand. They went to the stage, up the steps, onto it. She held Harry’s hands, faced him.

“Oh,” Harry said, pulling her close. His hard cock tapped her vagina, began to push inward.

“Save it,” Gia said, as his dick began to sink in, “Tease, tease, until the end!”

Harry pulled out, let it touch, though, as Gia started to lead him in the dance.

“You altered my tuxedo,” Harry said, “Took the thong out.”

“You’re mature enough to handle it, right?” Gia asked.

“Sure,” Harry quipped.

“By the way, it’s dance, dinner, show, and dance until we’re ready to leave,” Gia said, “So, make you a promise; if you eat dinner, you can use it.”

“Holding out?” Harry asked.

“You need to eat,” Gia said, “I don’t like holding back, but if sex motivates you to take care of yourself, realize I’m doing it because I do love you, I do care about you, so if you need help, I’ll help.”

“I figured that part out already,” Harry said, dryly.

“Besides,” Gia said, holding his balls, “No chaffing.”

“There is that,” Harry admitted.

“Where’d you get that?” Ron asked a bit later as Ginny handed over Galleons to Madam Rosmerta in the Three Broomsticks .

“You’d expect me to work in Fred and George’s shop for nothing?” Ginny said, “They paid me. Besides, the Firewhiskey money came from Seamus.”

Quickly, they shuffled the beverages, including the cases of Firewhiskey, into the backpack; and they returned to Honeydukes. Ginny loaded up with treats, and they slipped back into the basement, into the passageway, and headed back to the castle. Ron took out the map, and they saw Seamus leaving Professor Snape’s office in the dungeon. Ginny tapped the back of the statue, they got out onto the third floor corridor.

“Dare I ask why you need a backpack Mr. Weasley?” Professor Lupin asked.

“No,” Ron said.

“Good,” Professor Lupin said.

“Just a few supplies for tomorrow’s Quidditch practice,” Ron said.

“Dedication is good in a Quidditch Captain,” Professor Lupin said, “Behave.”

Professor Lupin left.

“He’s onto you,” Ginny said.

“And he decided to leave it be,” Ron said.

Ginny and Ron returned to the Gryffindor Tower.

“Got it?” Seamus asked, catching up to pass through the portrait hole just after Ron and Ginny.

“How bad was it?” Ginny asked.

“Ten points and a detention,” Seamus said, “Best be worth it.”

Ron placed his backpack on the table next to where Hermione was sitting.

“You did, didn’t you!” Hermione said to Ron.

“They asked,” Ron said, “Lets have some fun.”

“Hmph!” Hermione sputtered.

Seamus, though, pulled out the top case of Firewhiskey, set it onto the table. Hermione glared at Ron, gathered her things.

“You’re welcome in on the fun too,” Seamus said to Hermione.

“I can only imagine what that’ll be,” Hermione said.

Seamus, though, grabbed the case of Firewhiskey.

“Join us,” Seamus said to Ron.

“I’ll see you later,” Ron said to Hermione, “Bedtime?”

Hermione grinned.

Ron followed Seamus, up the stairs, into the sixth year boys’ dormitory. Inside were Neville, Dean, and Ernie Macmillan.

“He’s Hufflepuff,” Ron said.

“I invited him,” Seamus said, “Besides, I figured Harry is being Harry, hiding wherever he likes to hide. Where is he?”

“Busy, I suppose,” Ron replied, knowing he couldn’t divulge that Harry’s with his girlfriend.

Seamus pulled out the rest of the cases of Firewhiskey, stacking them in two stacks of five each.

“Okay, the game is called Truth or Dare ,” Seamus said, holding a bottle.

“You’re stocked up,” Ernie said.

“Yeah, not planning on ten tonight,” Seamus said, “A case at most.” He popped the top. “One swig, each.” Seamus took a chug, passed the bottle to Dean.

“Rules?” Ernie asked as he took a swig.

“One drink per round,” Seamus said, “Either answer the question or strip something off. If you refuse to answer, we won’t ask again. Sound good?”

They nodded.

“And if you’re stripped naked?” Ernie asked.

“We’ll figure something out, a dare,” Seamus said, “First question, for everybody, are you a virgin, and I’m talking real sex, not your imagination.”


“No,” Ron said.


“And for the record, he’s been caught several times,” Seamus said, “So yeah, I can vouch for that. I’m not either.”

“Nor me,” Ernie said.

“No,” Dean said.

“Um…” Neville muttered.

“No shame,” Ron said, “Are you or are you not?”

“I…” Neville uttered.

“He is,” Dean said.

“Yes or no, or take off—your shirt,” Seamus said to Neville.

Neville removed his shirt, sat on his trunk.

“So, where is Harry?” Neville asked Ron.

“Not saying,” Ron replied.

“Strip, all the way,” Seamus said.

Ron removed his shirt, pulled his shoes off.

“Thought it was one article,” Ernie said.

“It is, except that’s the biggest mystery of this room,” Seamus said.

“It’s none of your business,” Ron replied.

“But it is, we sleep here,” Seamus said, “And Harry’s bed, always empty, yet, you’re able to get him on a whim, if you want to.”

“Don’t have to put up with Harry’s night terrors,” Dean said.

“Okay, there is that,” Seamus said, while Ron quickly stripped to stand naked, “Though don’t be surprised if Ron snuggles up to Harry.”

“Harry seems straight to me,” Ernie said, “Even brings his girlfriend from time to time.”

“Convenient, where’s he hiding her?” Seamus asked.

“Not saying,” Ron said, “That’s off–limits, alright?”

“Yeah, sure,” Seamus said.

“No repeats, remember?” Dean said to Seamus, “Who’d you first bang?”

Harry flexed his hips a bit, still on the stage, letting the tip of his glans touch Gia’s clitoris in the gap of her bottle green dress. The darkened room was now crowded, nearly every table full. A spotlight operator had trained the light onto Harry’s hard cock as the glans slipped into her. He dragged it for the length of her vulva, pulled out, and kissed her. Plates started to chim as wait staff started to bring plates to the tables.

“Time to eat,” Gia whispered.

“Yeah, suppose so,” Harry replied as he adjusted his wide brimmed hat.

Harry took no effort to hide his happy middle digit, the hard cock stood proud as they walked down the steps, came to their table. Gia held Harry’s balls as they sat down at the same time; she gently lowered them over the edge of his seat, letting them rest against the wood as they hung there beneath the hard erection. Gia moved so they were facing each other across the table as the hors d’oeuvres were delivered. Gia adjusted her dress, pushing the low cut front down, until her boobs hung out over the hem.

“I’ll keep these out so long as you eat,” Gia said, “Alright?”

She reached back underneath the small table, held his hard cock.

“You really mean it,” Harry said.

“Of course,” Gia said.

“Keep this up and—my todger is really liking this,” Harry said, “It’s liable to—you wanted to wait.”

Gia understood, pulled back, held his balls.

“I do like this, by the way,” Harry said as he grabbed the sliver of peanut butter smeared chicken on a stick, nibbled.

“Figured you would,” Gia said.

Gia’s hands kept cradling his loose balls; she leaned forward, letting the breasts rest on the table to either side of the hors d’oeuvres plate. Harry’s eyes stayed on the food, he kept nibbling, and stared at her as he ate.

“How often do you have sex with Hermione?” Neville asked Ron.

All five of them were naked at this point, with Ernie sitting on Harry’s closed trunk.

“Once every several days,” Ron said, “Wish it were more often, but it’s Hermione we’re talking about. Usually, she’d rather study than have sex—I talk her into it more often than not.”

“So, how often does Harry have sex?” Seamus asked.

“As often as he can manage,” Ron said, “Surprised if a day goes by that they don’t have sex.”

“How often is he with her?” Ernie asked.

“Not saying,” Ron said.

“That calls for a dare,” Dean said, taking another swig of the Firewhiskey, “Kiss my dick.”

“Every dick,” Ernie said.

“French kiss,” Seamus said.

“What they said,” Dean said, “How often, or pucker up.”

Dean stood and stumbled over, waited in front of Ron. Ron saw the ebony skin, the pink glans hanging at the end of the circumcised penis attached to the pudgy belly.

“Pucker up Weasley!” Seamus said.

Ron lifted the small digit, brought the tip to his lips.

“In! In!” Ernie chanted.

Ron opened his mouth, let the head slip in, and the tongue worked the toughened glans.

Keep…steady…” Dean said.

Ron tasted the bitterness of the fast jet, the salty juice poured from the slit within his mouth. Ron gagged before letting it flow down the hatch.

“You’re pissing!” Seamus exclaimed.

“Easier than the floor,” Dean replied.

“Don’t spill it,” Ernie said.

“Dean likes it,” Neville said as Dean’s shaft began to stiffen, “Yep.”

Dean pulled back fast.

“Need to piss, I’m next,” Seamus said, coming over.

Seamus placed his circumcised pink tip onto Ron’s tongue, and Ron pulled it in. Ron had barely started to lick, to taste, as the slit unleashed, this time, a bit sweeter than Dean’s had been, which made it taste a bit better than the Firewhiskey.

“Harry’s missing all the fun,” Ernie said.

“Likely,” Ron replied.

Harry sipped at the wine while Gia held a different cup beneath his soft penis. He was about to pee when some applause interrupted, and they both turned to glance at the stage. A large man, in a yellow suit, stood there.

“Welcome to Nightingale Venus, where every night is formal night,” the man said, “For tonight’s performance, I welcome Amos Presley, known the Oracle from Melbourne Australia. Lets give him a hand.”

The man led a simple applause as the large, tall, figure came out from behind the curtain. Covered in latex, an oversized condom; form fitting to the sculpting of his body, except for the face sticking out of a cutout and the arms, the Oracle came to the front.

“Welcome, welcome,” the twenty year old Oracle said, “And I approve safe sex.”


“And, I thought I was being brave,” the Oracle said, “Instead, I saw a young man in the audience even more brave than me, let him come up here.”

The man’s finger pointed right at Harry.

“Go up,” Gia said, as the spotlight shined on Harry standing up.

Harry trotted, along the steps.

“He’s definitely got the balls,” the Oracle said.

Harry climbed up onto the stage.

“I normally do this show solo,” the Oracle said, “However, an assistant makes it easier. Mind?”

Harry shrugged. The Oracle moved Harry to face forward, the spotlights focused on Harry. Everybody’s eyes trained on Harry, standing there with a top hat on the head, tuxedo jacket, the bottle green bow tie, black all the way down that matched the jet black hair, except for the flesh pink foreskin shrouded penis and testicle filled scrotum hanging out of the fabric for all to see.

“Look at this young man,” the Oracle said, “Nice and respectable, except for—” he reached down, wiggled Harry’s penis. “Interesting choice.”

“Gia’s idea,” Harry replied.

“Your wife?” the Oracle asked.

“Girlfriend,” Harry said.

“She’s got good taste, do we all agree?” the Oracle said, “Lights.”

Harry felt the heat of the spotlights focusing tightly onto his todger and balls. The Oracle held, fondled, and displayed Harry’s genitals to the crowd. A drop of liquid came off his foreskin.

“Need to pee?” the Oracle asked.

“Yes,” Harry said.

“This is gorgeous,” the Oracle said, “We need a towel and a glass.”

A towel and a glass was brought over; the towel laid out in front of Harry, while the cup was held just beneath.

“Bet you put a smile on everybody who’s seen it tonight,” the Oracle said, “That’s a lot of smiles.”

“It got noticed,” Harry replied.

Harry gripped his dick, retracted his foreskin. It took a moment more than usual, as he felt some tension, but less so than an exam with Madam Pomfrey. Everybody watched as the amber sputtered, began to pour out; the light refracted, sent rainbow shards around the room. Harry tapped his dick against the glass, pulled it out, and flexed it around.

“You may be wondering about this,” the Oracle said.

“Yeah,” Harry said.

“You might’ve been taught to hide,” the Oracle said, “That it’s ugly—it’s not. I’m not just talking about yours, but everybody has beauty in them. That includes your handsome penis, which I’m grateful you’re letting show, your girlfriend, right?”

“Yeah,” Harry said.

“May his girlfriend come up here?” the Oracle asked.

“Gia,” Harry said.

Gia had already restored her dress, came up, her clitoris, the shaved labia, readily visible.

“And your name?” the Oracle asked Harry.

“Um…” Harry stuttered. He had already slipped with Gia’s name, but that’s more common.

“Sparky,” Gia replied.

“So Sparky,” the Oracle said, “You’re both at least twenty one?”

“Um…yes,” Harry said, figuring it was better to go what his fake ID claimed.

“And neither of you were thinking about having sex?” the Oracle asked.

“No,” Harry replied.

“I believe you as much as my parents believed my brother,” the Oracle said, “Many years ago, he was caught starkers beneath the covers with this girl from school. I was six at the time so I learned that a good gynecology exam requires things to be well glazed.”


“She wanted to keep an eye on me,” Harry said.

“She has good taste in you Sparky,” the Oracle said, “So she has you by your bollocks?”

Gia reached over, held the balls.

“I guess that’s a yes,” Harry replied.

Harry’s penis soaked in the attention, promptly stiffened.

“You love her,” the Oracle said.

“Yep,” Harry said, without hesitation.

Gia removed her hand, the hard erection jutting forward.

“And you love him?” the Oracle asked.

“Yes,” Harry said.

“How would you describe his bollocks?” the Oracle asked.

“Handsome, nice, plump,” Gia said, her fingers teased them, “They work.”

“You have verified this, no doubt,” the Oracle said.

“We can check, again,” Harry offered.


“Offering?” the Oracle asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said, stepping close to Gia, he pushed his tip against the slit of her vagina.

“Where’s your condom?” the Oracle asked, pulling Harry back.

“I’m on the pill,” Gia said, “It’s guaranteed to work.”

“Guarantee or warranty, it doesn’t matter, because you’ll be the one changing the nappies,” the Oracle said, “So, stay up here until the finale, let us admire your beauty, together.”

“Now, how many of you have ever been to the zoo?”

A show of hands.

“Here we have an example of a human male and a human female, both in heat,” the Oracle said.

Hermione was laying in her knickers on her four poster when Parvati and Lavender came in; both of those two were still dressed. Curfew had already passed, the flickering candles shone against the dark window.

“Why are you not with somebody else?” Parvati asked.

“Why would I?” Hermione said, “I’m trying to read.”

“Maybe it burns too much?” asked Padma, entering.

“What burns?” Hermione asked.

“You heard her,” Lavender said.

“What?!” Hermione stammered as Padma and Parvati held her down. “Ron’ll be here—”

“He’s too inebriated with Firewhiskey to be bother,” Lavender said, “I even saw him sucking cock.”

“Harry’s not here,” Hermione protested.

“It wasn’t Harry’s,” Lavender said, “I suppose you need to find one before Ron takes a real interest in you.”

Hermione’s bra and panties were torn off her; she was turned over. Padma’s fingers went through the brown carpet of pubic hair.

“I can’t see the lice,” Padma said.

“Gotta have them from sleeping with a Slytherin,” Lavender said, “Heard they all shaved due to issues with livestock down there.”

“I’m not infested!” Hermione protested, “Let me go!”

“Most infamous whore here, can’t let you stay,” Lavender said.

“It’s my—” Hermione started.

Wand drawn, and a curse, Hermione was silenced, immobilized.

“You intend to go through with it?” Parvati asked Lavender.

“Yes, remove the trash,” Lavender said.

Padma blindfolded Hermione. Together, Hermione was lifted.

“Go! Go! Go!” came the shouts in the sixth years’ dormitory. Neville was bent over, on his hands and knees on his trunk, while Ernie brought his tongue to the butt crack. Ron chanted with the other two, Seamus and Dean, as Ernie licked Neville’s anus; Ernie’s hand was on Neville’s hard cock beneath.

“No, no…” Neville muttered.

“Wicked,” Seamus said, and took a swig, his arm around Dean’s shoulder, “Weasley — your kinkiest thing?”

“Umm…have to think…” Ron muttered.

“If Harry were here…” Dean said.

“He’s blown me,” Ron said, pointing the bottle of Firewhiskey in his hand at Dean, “Harry has sucked my dick!”

“Really?” Seamus asked.

“It was—great!” Ron exclaimed.

“Why?” Neville asked.

“Apology,” Ron said, “I forgave.”

“I…I…” Neville stuttered.

A squirt and Neville’s hard dick poured out, splattering the off white liquid across the top of his trunk.

“Weasley’s turn,” Seamus said.

“No…no…” Neville stuttered.

“Chicken?” Dean asked.

“No,” Neville said, taking a swig.

Ron bent over, got onto his hands and knees on the trunk.

“Dare ya to suck him,” Dean said to Seamus, “One bottle.”

“Alright,” Seamus said.

Neville patted Ron’s buttocks, before sniffing.

“Eww,” Neville said.

“Think yours was better?” Ernie asked.

Seamus knelt on the floor, bent over, underneath Ron’s chest, came in and gripped Ron’s soft todger. Seamus ran his finger on Ron’s foreskin, teased out the erection.

“Harry could be here,” Dean said.

“So, do you all sympathize with the animals?” the Oracle said, “To be captured, bred in captivity? What kind of life is that? To be dumped into a pen, told that other animal is to be your mate, whether you agree with it or not? I have plenty of sympathies for the creatures, and almost none for the zookeeper.

“Enough of that, let us return to our beautiful couple here.”

Eyes, eyes that had never really stopped watching, Harry with his cock and balls hanging out, next to Gia with her pussy on show.

“Do I need to tell you, Sparky, to be one like the animals?” the Oracle asked.

Harry understood. He closed in on Gia, reached around to her back, as her boobs seemed necessary. He undid her snap, but instead of just the boobs slipping out, her dress fell down, leaving her starkers on the stage.

“Oops,” Harry muttered.

“Go with it,” Gia said.

“Beautiful,” the Oracle said, “A human female wooing her mate.”

“How?” Harry asked.

“How you feel to do it,” the Oracle replied, “Just make sure they can witness it.”

“We’d normally use a bed,” Harry said, “Hold her up for me, will you?”

Gia leaned slightly, let the Oracle’s strong muscles hold her body, while Harry straddled her left leg, brought her right over his shoulder. Applause, catcalls, and cheers came as Harry pushed the pink glans of his hard dick into Gia. Harry flexed his hips while giving his balls maximum clearance, his shaft slid in and out, until held it firmly inside her. Harry waited, stumbled slightly as the euphoria sailed through him, and pulled out; white dew clung and started to ooze a bit from his tip.

“There you have it folks,” the Oracle said, letting Gia down until she could stand, “Show them.”

Harry went to the edge of the stage, showed his hard dick with the strand of semen hanging down. Harry took off his top hat, bowed, before restoring his hat.

“And Sparky gets the honor of the first dance,” the Oracle said, “Thank you folks, I will be back tomorrow with the normal show. Lets give these two young people a hand for being so willingly in sharing, showing us the love they have in each other. Make love, not war! Good evening!”

Harry embraced Gia, she held onto his tuxedo, as they began a waltz, on the stage, as the spotlights shone on them with his bottle green bow tie, her nudity, and his softening penis. They made it through the round, and Harry went to sit on the edge of the stage. Gia came over, sat. People walked by, some felt, fondled, Harry’s penis before going up onto the stage.

“Thank you,” Gia said to Harry, “You do love me.”

“Of course,” Harry said, “Weirdest evening of my life, but I enjoyed it.”

Harry yawned, began to lean over, his head hit her lap as he curled up on his side, and he fell to sleep.

“Sex does that to him,” Gia said to the first person who noticed.

Ron felt the surge go on and on, as his seed shot across Seamus’ face beneath him.

“I need Hermione,” Ron said, getting up.

“Where you heading?” Seamus asked.

“Bed!” Ron said as he left the dormitory.

Ron stumbled down the stairs , still naked, and up to the girls. He entered, the dormitory was empty. He tripped, fell onto the floor next to Hermione’s bunk, and went to sleep.

Meanwhile, Hermione felt the cold rain on her skin, heard the softness of the boots changing from grass to brush.

“We’ll leave her to rot,” came the voice of Lavender.

Hermione blacked out.

When Hermione came to, her arms, her hands, her legs could move, but her voice remained quiet, unable to scream. It was dark and cold in the trees, she realized was the Forbidden Forest, and she was starkers, with nobody else around. She decided to go in straight of a line as she could, began to walk, hoping that Hagrid would decide to search to find her. However, she knew this to be a vain hope, for she was supposed to be in Gryffindor Tower.

Hermione’s voice came back, but all that came were the sobs, the cries, that her housemates had done this to her. While she hadn’t always been the best of friends with everybody, she hadn’t counted on them to be this cruel. Hermione’s foot sunk into water; she glanced and recognized the pond.

“Maybe,” Hermione muttered.

She searched near the log she and Ron would lean up against, and found a wool blanket. She needed light to get back to the castle, to get back to Hogwarts, if she even wanted to go back. Instead, she sat on the ground, used the cool but not soaked blanket, wrapped herself in it, and began to sob herself to sleep.

1 Albus Dumbledore was known to be a hundred fifty or so when I first started the story, so it’ll remain despite it being shortened in subsequent books and interviews.

Chapter Text

Rumble! Rumble! Rumble!

“Harry,” came Gia’s voice the next morning.

Harry woke and realized their predicament. They were both laying on the cement as people were stepping over them. A delivery truck went by, only several feet on the other side of the metal railing, separating them from the road. Harry realized that he was starkers as he sat up, Gia too, and both on the little pedestrian island for the crossing at the intersection in the middle of the A1 highway, traffic alternated between the two sides. Wisps of clouds drifted above, while more pedestrians came by, an older man threw a coin at them, it landed in a takeout plastic cup, which was on the ground nearby.

“How did we get here?” Harry asked.

“Umm…” Gia said, “I don’t remember, we’re definitely not home.”

“Feeling alright?” Harry asked as he stood up.

“Bit cold, otherwise okay,” Gia replied.

Harry grabbed the plastic cup.

“Don’t you have your thing?” Gia asked.

“No,” Harry said, “Left those at home, didn’t think we’d need them. We’ve got…not enough.”

Gia squatted, watched Harry’s todger as she peed onto the pavement; it stiffened.

“That works,” Gia said, her finger touched the foreskin.

“Yep, lets go,” Harry said.

Harry and Gia moved in with the flow of pedestrians, crossed from the small island to the sidewalk. Gia grabbed the cup, glanced at the change.

“I think there’s enough for breakfast,” Gia said.

“We need to get home,” Harry said. A thought came to him, it was London, but he didn’t want to go to the Leaky Cauldron and advertise that Harry Potter was naked and away from Hogwarts.

“Breakfast first,” Gia said, “As a naked girl—I can get us train fare, I just need to ask. You certainly like me.” She touched the foreskin on his hard cock.

“Yeah,” Harry said.

With the loosest of grips, more of a stroke, Gia pulled along the length of his shaft. Harry followed her tugs. She led the way, along the street.

“Think Ron’s right, like before on the trip,” Harry said, “Nobody’s bothering we’re naked.”

Gia stopped, turned around; she held his scrotum, his hard todger, in her right hand.

“Thought you like being starkers,” Gia said.

“I’m not objecting,” Harry said, “I meant it when I said that I love it.”

“Then do not jinx it, alright?” Gia said, “I don’t know why, you don’t know why, but we both enjoy it, right? I’d rather be naked with you than anywhere else! Understand?”

“Yeah,” Harry said.

“Good,” Gia said, her left fingers petted his hard erection, “Enjoy it and think of the places you’d like to use this, on me, alright? I enjoyed it last night, it was definitely different to have commentary.”

“That was different,” Harry said, “Funny name you gave.”

“Unless you want me blabbing Harry Potter—” Gia said.

“No,” Harry said.

“Then you need a nickname,” Gia said, “I had no time to think, so that’s the first one that came to me.”

“It’s alright,” Harry said, “Take a bit to grow on me.”

“Lets get breakfast,” Gia said, “I’m hungry and you need—let you play as we eat.”

Harry walked alongside Gia until they came a small cafe near London Tower. Gia pulled Harry in.

“Not hungry,” Harry grumbled.

“I want you around as long as possible, we’re eating,” Gia said. She went to the counter, ordered, and handed over the cup of change to the lady behind the counter. “Off to a rough start this morning.”

Gia brought Harry over to a table, near the corner. Gia sat on the table. Harry pushed her legs up and apart, until her feet were on the edge. He reached for the apex in her panties\His exposed glans came close to her vagina, his fingers massaged around it.

“No, not yet,” Gia said.

“Oh…” Harry groaned.

“I want the chase, the tease,” Gia said.

Gia moved back a bit as the lady brought over the tray, set the full English breakfast down right between Gia’s spread legs. Gia pointed to Harry, he sat on the seat right in front of her, his bollocks hung over the edge.

“Eat,” Gia said, “Got you a nice appetizer.”

Harry studied her vulva, the darkness as Gia pulled her labia apart.

“You like doing this,” Harry said.

“Are you eating?” Gia said, “Here, try this.” She grabbed a sausage, rolled it between her fingers for a moment, before sliding it into her vagina. “Interested?”

Harry reached, Gia slapped the hand.

“Eat it,” Gia ordered.

Harry leaned forward, his mouth began to bite down on the sausage that was still in the air. Harry crawled on his hands and knees, on the table, the plate beneath his hard erection, and moved inward. His tongue and teeth bit into the sausage near her, slid it out and kept eating. His dick dipped into the fried eggs, he felt the yolk getting onto him as he finished the sausage. Gia brought Harry upright on his knees, she knelt over, licked his tip.

“We’ll always eat like this?” Harry asked.

Gia brought him back down to sit on the chair, she tried to share it with him.

“I shouldn’t have to beg in order for you to eat,” Gia said, “Though I’m certainly willing to make it fun.”

Harry grinned.

“Besides, we could only afford the one,” Gia said, “It’ll have to last until we get home or beg. Here.”

Gia grabbed a spoon, loaded it with the baked beans, and brought it up to Harry’s mouth. He ate. She took a second scoop, at it herself. A fork divided the rest of the eggs.

“You’re trying to fatten me up,” Harry said.

“A bit,” Gia said, “Not a lot, a bit of fat to cushion.”

“Hmph,” Harry said.

“You’re not talking me into pouring the orange juice into my kitty,” Gia said, as she handed him the cup, “Drink up, helps keep your piss yellow.”

Harry drank a sip, before Gia shoved a strip of toast into his mouth. He ate, and before he had finished, Gia had another strip near his mouth.

“Full,” Harry said as he took a gulp from the orange juice.

“And yes, it’s totally selfish,” Gia said, “Totally selfish to want you fed to be healthy and strong.” She ran her right fingers down the middle of his chest, tickling as she dragged them along, around his naval, down the trail to his pubic hair, and along his soft dick. “Very selfish to want to keep you as long as I can.” She leaned in, kissed him on the lips.

“Feels forced,” Harry said.

“Would you have bothered with breakfast if I hadn’t?” Gia said, “Hope you understand—I love you, so that means, yeah, I’ll push you when you need it.”

Gia finished the the beans, the toast, and the rest of the breakfast.


Harry grinned. Gia grabbed the empty plastic cup.

“Nothing left,” Gia said.

“Told you, train fare—” Harry started.

“Couldn’t have you hungry as we’re running around—” Gia started.

“Running! Of course,” Harry said, “Done?”

“Suppose so,” Gia said.

Harry stood, tugged on her wrist.

“I don’t get it,” Gia said as Harry moved fast out of the cafe.

“Lets move,” Harry said, “It’s a way out of this.”

Ron woke with the sorest of headaches; he was starkers on the floor next to Hermione’s empty four poster bed.

“Where’s Hermione?” Ron asked.

“How the fuck would I know?” Parvati retorted.

“Fine,” Ron said.

Ron left the girls dormitory, simply smiled as passing girls noticed his jostling dick, and went up the stairs to the boys dormitory.

“Did I really—?” Neville started to mumble as Ron entered.

“It was awkward, different,” Ron said, “Think nothing of it.” Ron moaned as the headache came back, extra strong intensity. “Maybe ask Madam Pomfrey—”

“We’d get suspended,” Neville replied.

Ron glanced at the cases of Firewhiskey still beneath Seamus’ bed. Quickly, Ron dressed in a plaid overshirt and blue denim trousers, walked out of the room. Neville walked with him.

“Can you walk quietly?” Ron asked.

“I’m trying,” Neville replied.

They entered the Great Hall.

“Where’s Hermione?” Ron said, “Normally she’d be here.”

“Keep it down,” Neville muttered.

They walked over to the Gryffindor table, sat next to Dean and Seamus. Ernie came over.

“About last night,” Ernie said, “I’m only going to say this once: it never happened.”

“Second,” Dean said.

“Motion passed,” Seamus grumbled.

Ron ate his breakfast, left. He went to the Library, which was empty of Hermione. He began to enter each and every girls lavatories, stopped in the second floor.

“Hello, where’s Harry?” Myrtle asked.

“Busy,” Ron said, not really knowing, but did know that Harry and Gia always managed to keep themselves entertained together.

Harry felt the heat, the sun’s rays slipped between the clouds above, loosening his testicles as him and Gia crossed the Southwark Bridge over the Thames River.

“Which way to the Globe Theater?” Harry asked Gia.

“Is that where we’re going?” Gia replied.

“Richard mentioned it,” Harry said, “Figured it’d be worth a try.”

Gia had them turn sharply on the south, took the stairs down to the path next to the river, turned left.

“Old building no longer stands,” Gia said, “It’s being reconstructed, so it’s not open.”

“I didn’t think to ask him yesterday as I wasn’t planning on this,” Harry said, “Still, he said he’d be here.”

“Oh,” Gia said, “Alright.”

They came to the large fence, a table on the stones right in front, with a sign Bard’s Run ; to either side, a crowd of adults from young to old, men and women, all scantily clad in underwear.

“Fill and sign here,” the eighteen year old, bare chested, sitting next to the table in a pair of white briefs, said as he handed Harry a clipboard.

“What’s this?” Gia asked.

“Standard release of liability,” the man said, “You’re here for the race, right?”

“What race?” Gia asked.

“The race, celebrating the morning after a Bard’s stellar performance,” the man said, “When they get caught in the bed of a fan, but that fan’s husband and brothers, and you’re having run like mad.”

“Go ahead,” said the familiar voice, “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Richard!” Gia exclaimed.

Harry decided against using his real name, instead, used the one Gia had given him, signed it Sparky , filled in the description to his underwear as None. Harry turned, Richard was there; wearing just a white jockstrap with discolorations around the base of the bulge.

“Hi,” Harry said, “Bit relieved seeing you here.”

“Are you going to run?” Richard asked Gia.

“No,” Gia replied.

“Come to watch?” Jen asked. Jen was fully dressed, with a T–shirt and blue jeans.

They moved in the small crowd; a man in a fedora stood a few yards away, camera in hand, with the camera strap that read Daily Telegraph . Richard turned around, butt toward the camera.

“We didn’t exactly volunteer,” Harry said, “More like an accident, we came to London last night.”

“And came home, right?” Richard said, “How else did your tuxedo make it onto your bed?”

“It’s there?” Harry stammered.

“Yeah, I mean—” Richard started.

“We never made it home,” Harry said, “We woke up in the middle of the A1.”

Richard grunted for a moment.

“We don’t have our clothes,” Gia said, “Mind helping us get home?”

“Sure, after the run,” Richard said.

“That’s disgusting,” Gia said.

Harry glanced, a bit of brown dropped behind Richard, while the jockstrap was now dribbling. His eyes darted, freshly stained and soiled underwear seemed to be the uniform.

“Take it your Mum doesn’t know,” Harry said.

“She knows I’m in a race, I didn’t elaborate,” Richard said, “Gia, careful, you’re about to be confused as a runner.”

“You’re not even bothering to wipe,” Gia said, her eyes on Richard’s buttocks, with the brown smeared near the anus.

“Supposed to have the shit scared out of us, remember?” Richard said, “Ready?”

“I’ll be fine,” Gia said to Harry.

Jen and Gia walked back, as Harry and Richard joined the crowd.

“You certainly dressed the part,” Richard said.

“Don’t ask me why my tuxedo made it home without me,” Harry said, “You’re sure—?”

“It had that hole Gia cut into it!” Richard said, “Mum’s talked about the tales from the drunks—yours takes the cake.”

“We weren’t drunk,” Harry said.

“Didn’t mean to imply that,” Richard said.

“Greetings and welcome to the Bard’s Run!” came the shouts from a man, standing on the railing to the Thames, small megaphone in hand, dressed with a nightgown, boxers, and bunny slippers. “You’ve just been caught in bed, make your escape!”


Some cameras to the side took pictures as the crowd of several hundred began to move. The bloke from the Daily Telegraph took several of Harry, the tangled pubic hair on display. Harry’s arms moved, controlled, while his buttocks flexed, and a couple of ladies behind him whistled.

“They definitely like you,” Richard said.

“Figure?” Harry said, “Gotta be my feet.”

“Yeah, right,” Richard said as he gave Harry a quick glance over.

Harry’s thighs kept flexing, his back held up, and his testicles bounced around. His dick appreciated the sensation, grew stiff, and his erection swayed as it jutted forward. His foreskin retracted, let the glans soak in the heat of the sun.

“My, you’re really in trouble, aren’t you?” asked a mid–twenties lady to Harry’s left.

Harry glanced to his left at the brunette, about his height, and with tan lines around her white panties and bra which hinted at much sun in a two piece bikini.

“If I’m caught in bed, then I was caught in the act,” Harry replied.

This girl kept pace with Harry, kept glancing at him and his hard erection, as they both ran. Richard adjusted his jockstrap, one of the two elastic strands broke, his pouch held with less restraint than before.

Ron made it down to the dungeons; and even though it was unlikely, he figured it was worth the shot. He approached the girls bathroom when the greasy voice called out.


Ron turned, Professor Snape was coming up from behind.

“You have no business in the dungeons,” Professor Snape sneered, “Twenty points unless—”

“Kitchens,” Ron blurted, “Going to visit an Elf.”

“Pathetic,” Professor Snape sneered, “Move along.”

Professor Snape followed Ron to the kitchens; where Ron entered.

“Dobby is happy to serve friend of Harry Potter!” Dobby said.

“Trying to find Hermione—” Ron started.

“Weasley needs this!” Dobby snapped his fingers, a picnic basket appeared, and handed it over to Ron.

“I meant she’s missing,” Ron said.

“Weasley will find her heart,” Dobby said.

Frustrated, Ron left the kitchens with the picnic basket in hand. Ron bemused that Dobby could find Harry faster, when the thought of Harry came back to Ron’s mind, the map! Ron ran back up the stairs, climbing fast, went into the Gryffindor Tower, up the stairs, into his dormitory, crossed over to Harry’s trunk, and opened it. He took out the map, activated it, and began to scan, searching all the names moving around.

“Find me Hermione Granger,” Ron said to the map.

It scrolled to the edge, the edge of the Forbidden Forrest, but no further.

“Of course!” Ron exclaimed.

Ron reached, grabbed his cloak hanging nearby, before his feet moved quick, he ran back down the stairs. He left the castle into the overcast day, a bit nippy but bearable. Ron went fast, across the grounds, to the treeline, walked along the trees until he found the familiar rock, and turned inward. Ron gripped his wand, had it at the ready, as he treaded carefully along the lightly worn path; the crush of red and yellow leaves under his footsteps complimented the music of the birds. Ron turned at the large stump, ducked beneath the vines, and pushed through the bushes, to come to the huddled mass sitting near the tranquil clear water of the modest pond.

Red sullen eyes around the brown, bushy eyebrows and hair, Ron recognized Hermione, starkers as she sat there, on the old wool blanket, her right leg up. Hermione, though, did not look up, kept her chin on her raised knee, an occasional whimper accompanied the tears flowing down her face. Ron knelt and felt her cold skin, noted that she was not shivering.

“Haven’t you done enough?” Hermione snapped.

“Wha—at—?” Ron stammered, “I’m sorry.”

“Like an apology will fix things,” Hermione said.

“I missed you and when you didn’t show up to breakfast, I went looking,” Ron said as he sat, “Took a while to find you.”

Hermione grunted.

“Here,” Ron said, bringing his cloak around her back, “I am sorry.”

“For what?” Hermione asked.

“You’re obviously upset,” Ron said, “Dunno why, but you’re upset, and cold.”

Ron opened the picnic basket, there was a heated blanket on top, and he pulled this out, rested on Hermione’s lap. He stripped starkers, pulled the blanket over them both. Her cold fingers marched across his skin, held his todger tight, it stiffened.

“Thinking with your todger again,” Hermione said.

“Don’t dis it,” Ron said, “It’s telling me you’re pretty, you’re beautiful. It’s reminding me that I do love you. It persuaded me to come and find you. Even without it, I do know you’re my friend.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said, “It wasn’t you, not directly.”

Ron wrapped his arm around her back, held her right shoulder, felt the skin warming up.

“Too promiscuous,” Hermione retorted.

“Oh?” Ron muttered as his arm retreated.

“Sorry,” Hermione replied.

Hermione began to shiver. Ron moved backward fast, his right leg moved to the other side of Hermione, and moved forward. Ron’s arms reached beneath the blanket, held onto her breasts as he pulled her tightly to him, her back against his chest until his erection was pressed against her tailbone.

“Good enough to get to Madam Pomfrey?” Ron asked.

“Nothing she can do,” Hermione said, “I thought I didn’t want to feel again.”

“Then what did happen?” Ron asked. His hands moved along her breasts, began to warm up the top side, felt her erect nipples.

“If a boy, like you, sleeps around, chalking up girls like a Quidditch score, you’re marked a hero, a stud,” Hermione said, “If a girl does the same with boys, it’s a demerit, a girl’s considered a slut, a whore, or desperate.”

“You’ve only slept with me and Harry,” Ron said, “It happens when we date, that’s a good thing.”

“You’re thinking with your todger again,” Hermione said.

“Why argue with my todger?” Ron asked as he leaned in, “It says to love you and cherish you.” He kissed her on the neck.

“Have to admit, you really are trying,” Hermione replied.

Ron reached into the picnic basket, pulled out a flask, sniffed it to smell the Lady Gray tea, and handed it to Hermione. She sipped it.

“Thank Dobby for it,” Ron said.

“It’s just with all the rumors,” Hermione said, “They ganged up on me—it’s not like it was the first time. When I’m not with you, I’ve woken to mayonnaise smeared condoms being stuffed into my mouth, my shorts, or even littered about the floor around my bed. Parvati’s taken to inspecting my knickers on a regular basis. Books go hidden or my pills get confiscated—it’s frustrating, because I don’t think it’s Parvati, or Lavender instigating this, that they’re strings are being pulled too. Last night, they gave me an impromptu inspection, threw me out here, like I’m…I’m…trash.” She sobbed.

“Me and Harry both see you as a friend, first,” Ron said, “You were my friend long before we became lovers.”

“I know you care, and Harry does too,” Hermione said, “It’s just…this makes me want to quit Hogwarts.”

“We’re going to Madam Pomfrey,” Ron stated.

“I meant it!” Hermione quipped, “If it were just this past week, I’d get over it, but thing’s have been just happening, you understand? But it’s bugs me that I’d be tossing all that studying, all that hard work, over this!”

“Tell you what we’ll do,” Ron said, “Start by getting you all warmed up.”

Ron moved, the charmed blanket enlarged to cover them both as he laid her down onto the ground; he rested himself on top of her, though stayed mostly supported on his hands and knees. His todger hung between her legs, her breasts pressed into his chest. Ron smiled as he looked down on Hermione.

“You’re just wanting to bang,” Hermione said.

“Will it help you warm up?” Ron asked.

“How generous,” Hermione snapped.

Ron held her, rolled them both over, and she was laying on top of him, her eyes faced him down.

“Better?” Ron asked.

“Much,” Hermione said, sarcastically.

“When we get back, we’ll report the assault,” Ron promised.

“That’d make things worse,” Hermione said.

“Alright, you move into my bed,” Ron said, “That way they have to deal with me instead.”

“Selfish?” Hermione asked, her hand felt his stiff erection beneath her, “Doubt it’d be allowed, I mean, Professor McGonagall’s not that thick to not object. Like it’d really help.”

“Or I move into yours,” Ron said, “You ought to be able to be safe in bed.”

“Hogwarts is supposed to be safe,” Hermione said, “I shouldn’t need a body guard.”

“Nor should Harry need armor in the corridors,” Ron replied, “But he did. You and me, we both know Hogwarts isn’t always safe—never has been, never will. But you, our odds are better if I know you’re safe, with me.”

“Thank you for volunteering,” Hermione said, “Suppose Gia’s—?”.

“See if you need more warmth,” Ron said.

Ron pulled her slightly, pushed upward, before adjusting his hard erection, and parted her labia. His dick went inside as she was lowered.

“You’re just wanting—” Hermione started.

“Gotta check,” Ron said, “Feels a tad cold, warm it up?”

“Your todger thought this up?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah,” Ron said, “Is it right, this a good idea?”

“Not sure,” Hermione said.

“Does it feel warm?” Ron asked.

“Yes,” Hermione replied.

“Good.” Ron pulled her head down, kissed her on the lips.

“Hmm…” Hermione leaned over, sniffed beneath his cheek, and moved her hips. Her motion moved the skin around his shaft, letting his penis inward and outward.

“Had your period?” Ron asked.

“Wha—” Hermione stammered.

“Condom, yes or no?” Ron asked.

“Hmm…” Hermione muttered.

Ron took a moment, cast it to be safe, and she continued.

“Suppose Gia’s—?” Hermione asked.

“Better believe Harry will make full advantage of the pills,” Ron replied.

Hermione kept flexing her hips.

Harry watched the brunette’s panties, the shower dribbling from the cloth, as she ran between Harry and Richard; the crowd of runners had separated enough that there was clearance in front of them.

“That’s nice and all,” Harry said, “I’m starkers, much easier.”

It took Harry some effort to unclench, though not a lot as he was running, and brown dropped behind him; the brunette smiled as Harry also let his bladder loose. As they approached the next pub, he began to piss, the jet flew forward, and the brunette smiled.

Click! Click!

Harry had only a couple of seconds to register, the familiar crocodile–skin handbag, the jeweled spectacles, the blond hair, of Rita Skeeter, and her photographer.

“My, my, Harry!!” Rita exclaimed.

Harry blushed as he tapped the door handle; and ran as fast as he could. Richard caught up.

“You know her?” Richard asked, as he adjusted his jockstrap, one bit of elastic snapped.

“Right as I’m taking a dump!” Harry said, briefly glancing backward to the long log of sludge on the road behind them, before he returned his gaze forward, “Yeah, likely made the paper.”

“You really like to piss,” the brunette said, catching up.

“I try to do it every time I run,” Harry said.

“Yeah, right,” the brunette said.

“Like his penis?” Richard asked her.

“It’s okay,” the brunette said, “Only one brave enough to show it today.”

“There’s going to be a test on it at the end,” Harry said, “How much further?”

“We’re not even halfway,” Richard said, “Dunno, twenty miles.”

“Twenty?” Harry said, “How long’s the course?”

“It’s a marathon,” the brunette said.

“Twenty six point two miles,” Richard said, as he reached to adjust the jockstrap.

“Gah!” Harry stammered, still, though, he kept running.

“Blimey!” Richard exclaimed, the other strap broke, the pouch swung back and forth.

“Take it off!” the brunette exclaimed.

Richard’s fingers moved, busted the elastic waistband, flung the jockstrap to the side. The brunette smiled at the sight of Richard’s growing circumcised penis. However, they all kept running, exchanging glances. Harry and Richard studying her curves, while she studied theirs, though Harry’s pissing hard cock drew more of her attention than Richard’s.

Neville stood near the shore in the water of the lake, his trousers legs rolled up to clear. Luna sat on the shore, on Neville’s shoes, in her opal dress, with a Quibbler upside down in her hands.

“Funny things are supposed to start this year,” Luna said, “Dunno what.”

“The sea urchin,” Neville said, holding a purple one in his hand, “Can be found nearly anywhere where there’s water, you know, all the time, so oceans, or lakes. Though you got to be careful, some can be venomous to the touch.”

“Hear that?” Luna said, “Merfolk are warning us about the Nargles.”

Crunch! Crunch!

Twigs broke beneath the feet as Colin came running, camera swung by his side.

“Neville!” Colin shouted, “Have you seen Harry Potter?”

“No,” Neville said, “Why?”

“I mean it,” Colin said, “When did you last see him?”

“Yesterday, I think,” Neville said.

“Have you seen a Nargle before?” Luna asked Colin.

“No,” Colin replied, “Seen Harry?”

“Maybe,” Luna said. She held the Quibbler up, on the back, a large drawing with the title Where’s Harry ?

“Not that—as in Hogwarts!” Colin said, “Neville, Luna, mind helping?”

“I’ve just about found him,” Luna said.

“Is it that urgent?” Neville asked.

“Yes,” Colin said, “He’s got an appointment.”

“Have you tried Ron?” Neville said.

“I’ve searched for Weasley too, but it’s Harry I need,” Colin said.

“Alright,” Neville said, leaving the lake.

“I’ll keep your shoes safe,” Luna said.

Neville shook his head, followed Colin.

“Where have you tried searching?” Neville asked.

“Everywhere,” Colin said, “The house, Hagrid’s, the Library, even the Quidditch Pitch. I even checked the Owlery, his bird’s not there.”

“Owls do hunt,” Neville said.

They entered the courtyard, went through the oak doors, onto the first floor.

“Thank you,” Colin said.

“Try the Hospital Wing, he might’ve shown up,” Neville said.

“That’s not the appointment I’m talking about,” Colin said as they climbed stairs.

“Then what?” Neville asked.

“I setup a fireside chat with Doris Crockford,” Colin said, “She needed ask him questions about his girlfriend—”

“He agreed to this?” Neville asked.

“I haven’t asked him,” Colin said, “Doris needs to get the article ready for Harry Potter Quarterly !”

Neville stopped them both on the third floor.

“Blimey!” Neville said, “Why the fuck didn’t you ask?”

“He’d just say No ,” Colin said, “Figured it’d be better to surprise him.”

“Did Harry make you his publicist?” Neville asked.

“No,” Colin said, “But the public has a right to know—”

“It’s his choice, not yours,” Neville said, “I would’ve expected a Gryffindor…Harry?”

Colin spun, camera up, faced the familiar teenage boy with jet black hair, the scar on the forehead, the round glasses, with the classic black jumper over a blue shirt. One step, two steps, a fist hit Colin’s camera, it went to the floor, and the boy stomped on it.

“HARRY!” Colin stammered.

A stomp to Colin’s right foot, and Colin howled.

“Harry!” Neville snapped, hands tried to grip the arm.

The boy wrenched until his back was toward Neville, the foot came up backward, smacked Neville in the crotch. Colin tried to hold onto the boy, but the boy punched, Colin fell to the ground, and the boy kicked Colin in the ribs.

“HARRY!” Neville shouted as he tried to tackle the boy.

However, the boy spun around, a wand drawn, a flash of red, and Neville fell. Neville blacked out.


Ron held the napkin in front of him.

“Useless,” Ron said.

“Just because a savage like yourself doesn’t know how to use one, doesn’t make it useless,” Hermione said.

Ron put it across his nostrils.


“Gross,” Hermione said.

“Had to be done,” Ron said, “Feeling better?”

Hermione adjusted the blanket, wrapped around them both.

“Yes,” Hermione said, “Thank you for looking out for me, it’s appreciated.”

They heard the faint two–o–clock chime from Hogwarts. Ron reached for his clothes.

“So soon?” Hermione asked.

“Well,” Ron said, “I am Captain of the Quidditch team and we need to practice.”

Ron handed her his boxers, his T–shirt, his socks, before he put his trousers and overshirt on.

“Thanks,” Hermione said, dryly.

“Like you’d fit my shoes,” Ron said, “Use my cloak too, keep people from guessing.”

Ron folded the new blanket, put it beneath the log.

“You’re not expecting this to happen again?” Hermione asked.

“It helped you out, right?” Ron said, “Help the next person out.”

They began to rise, but Ron’s hand pushed her, kept them both flat, as the sound of quickly approaching footsteps came to his ears. They laid low, slid beneath the dense brush, where Ron pulled the old blanket over them. From the Hogwarts side came the greasy black haired Professor Snape with his billowing black robes; from the forest side came the short balding Wormtail, his right hand reflected a bit of the sky above. They stopped an arms length apart, Professor Snape’s eyes locked onto Wormtail’s face, but Wormtail kept trying to duck the stare.

“I am incredibly busy,” Professor Snape said.

“Master is no longer interested in Potter—”

“Liar,” Professor Snape retorted.

“Do not get me wrong,” Wormtail said, “Potter’s death would still please him, it is no longer required.”

“Potter’s habit of sticking his nose where it does not belong—” Professor Snape said.

“Kill him, if you can,” Wormtail said, “But you know where the focus must remain.”

“Unless you have anything further—” Professor Snape said.

“Master does question your commitment—”

“Has he failed to read the The Daily Prophet ?“ Professor Snape asked..

“Surely you have opportunities—”

“Without betraying my position?” Snape said, “I have the confidence of the Headmaster—this conversation is terminated.”

Snape spun around and walked for the castle. Wormtail transformed and the rat scampered off.

“That was interesting,” Hermione said as she crept out of their hiding space.

Hermione brushed the dirt from herself and Ron.

“You’re interesting,” Ron said, his eyes traced her curves beneath the cloth before she pulled the cloak tight.

“I meant them,” Hermione snapped.

“How?” Ron said, “We’ve always suspected—”

“I don’t envy Snape,” Hermione said, “Trying to keep his feet on both sides.”

“His choice,” Ron said, “I know mine.”

Ron licked his lips, brought his mouth down toward her neck, but only got air—Hermione had taken a step and kept going. Ron grabbed the picnic basket, caught up, pulled her close as they walked.

“Womanizer,” Hermione snapped.

“You’re a woman?” Ron said, “Thought you’re a girl—”

Hermione lightly jabbed Ron in the stomach. They poked and jabbed as they returned to the castle; entered through the front oak doors. Professor McGonagall came off the marble stairs, stopped them in their tracks.

“Mr. Weasley, Miss. Granger,” Professor McGonagall asked, “Where have you been?”

Ron held up the picnic basket and grinned.

“There are rules,” Professor McGonagall said, as the cloaked slipped open, the boxers plainly visible on Hermione.

“Sorry,” Hermione said, as she cinched the cloak back up.

“And Mr. Potter?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“Elsewhere,” Ron stated.

Professor McGonagall escorted them to the first floor and into her office; she stood behind her desk, faced them.

“Where?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“He went to Noigate yesterday evening,” Ron said, “Seemed excited for some date last night, I didn’t ask for details.”

“Ron—” Hermione muttered to scold.

“Mione,” Ron said, “McGonagall knows about the commute.”

“That’s Professor McGonagall,” Professor McGonagall corrected, “Five points.”

“Sorry,” Ron muttered.

“Why are you so worried?” Hermione asked.

Professor McGonagall maintained her thin mouth and stern look.

“Neville Longbottom and Colin Creevy were found, beaten, on the third floor,” McGonagall said, “While they were successfully treated in the Hospital Wing, you can understand our concern. Upon questioning, they were reluctant, tried to find another plausible explanation, but both clearly remembering seeing Mr. Potter as the perpetrator.”

“That isn’t like Harry,” Ron protested, “He’d never do that.”

“You loyalty is admirable,” Professor McGonagall said, “However, Professor Dumbledore agreed with my assessment; we are certain that Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Creevy were not trying to deceive us with it. To their credit, they were looking for anything to avoid naming Mr. Potter.”

“Impostors?” Ron said, “Costumes in Harry’s likeness are sold from a store in Diagon Alley, there’s even a catalog!”

“Professor Lupin and Professor Tonks combed the spot thoroughly, Madam Pomfrey checked both Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Creevy for clues during her examinations,” Professor McGonagall said, “We found no shreds or other evidence of a costume.”

“Po—” Ron said.

“Until we ask Harry,” Hermione said, “We won’t know where he was earlier, for we were otherwise occupied.”

“Thank you for your cooperation,” Professor McGonagall said, “I will want to speak with Mr. Potter as soon as he is available.”

Ron and Hermione left the office; they returned the picnic basket, and went up the many flights of stairs to the seventh floor; entered Gryffindor common room.

“Where’s Potter?” Seamus demanded.

“None of your business,” Ron said.

“When my friend winds up in the Hospital Wing, it is my business,” Seamus said.

“He’s unavailable,” Ron said.

Ron led Hermione up to the boys’ dormitory. Ron removed his clothes, handed them over to Hermione; she put them on while he put on his Quidditch Robes.

“You’ve changed the uniform,” Hermione said.

“I ain’t sitting on my balls,” Ron said as he pulled his Quidditch robes over him, “It’s uncomfortable, even with a good cushioning charm.”

“I need to study,” Hermione said.

“Come with me,” Ron said, “I’d feel better if you’re where I can watch you, just in case.”

“After we get my book bag,” Hermione said.

“Yeah, whatever,” Ron said.

“Change into my own clothes,” Hermione said.

“It’s okay, those seem to fit you better,” Ron said, “Even if they’re less revealing, you seem more comfortable in them.”

Ron grabbed his Firebolt.

“Girls clothes are girls clothes for a reason,” Hermione said.

“As Harry puts it, why be uncomfortable?” Ron said.

“Starkers, you mean,” Hermione said.

“That too,” Ron said, “Heck, I’d be surprised if his cock weren’t in Gia right now.”

They left the dormitory, went down the stairs to cross the common room.

“Hey bitch!” Parvati shouted from a table, “Find a different motel, this one’s full!”

“This ain’t over!” Seamus said to Ron, “I need to teach Potter a lesson!”

“Just tell them where Harry is!” Ginny snapped as she followed Ron and Hermione, with her Cleansweep in her hand.

“No!” Ron said as they left Gryffindor Tower, “Stop demanding!”

“I have a right—” Ginny started.

“No,” Ron said, as he glared at her, “You do not have the right to Harry’s life—it’s HIS!”

“Will he be coming to practice?” Ginny asked.

“How should I know?” Ron said, “Maybe? That’s enough on Harry! We’ve got practice.”

Hermione followed.

“What is Harry up to?” Ginny asked.

“Banging!” Ron said, “He’s banging his girlfriend, all weekend long! You’d have to be mental to even suggest he’d stop that to beat up Neville and Colin.”

“Stop lying Ron!” Ginny said, “He’d have to leave Hogwarts to do that!”

“Please drop it,” Hermione said, “Harry’s simply unavailable and he certainly wouldn’t have done what he’s been accused of.”

“It’s difficult to believe,” Ginny replied.

“Hey!” Richard snapped.

The brunette, giggling, took her right hand away from Richard’s hard cock, while her left reached to grab Harry’s.

“Hey!” Harry snapped, contrary to what his dick wanted. His dick didn’t care who was playing with it, though he did care, and his dick gave a momentary tremor, hinting it was ready.

They went down the steps from Waterloo Bridge back to the Thames path, ran along. They passed the signage advertising the future location of the Modern Tate Museum, came to the ribbon marking the finish. The brunette was two steps behind as they crossed the wide chalk line. Harry felt the exhaustion, bent over, massaged his calf muscles.

“I’d love to ring you up,” the brunette said, staring right at Harry’s bare buttocks, his scrotum dangling between the partially spread legs.

“Everybody loves a rebel Harry,” Rita Skeeter said, coming over, “Only thirteen—”

“Thirteen!” the brunette exclaimed, quickly moved away.

“No! No!” Harry protested.

Rita, though, backed Harry against the bulwark separating the path to the Thames. Parchment and a quill came out, the quill began to write.

“When do you plan to tell your Headmaster about your little rule breaking?” Rita asked, her right hand gripped Harry’s hard cock, “Nice thing you’ve got going on.”

“Back away,” Harry said.

“Nice advertising,” Rita said, her fingers teased Harry’s foreskin, “Think your habitual flaunting the rules led to this little display today?”

“Let go of him!” Richard stammered.

“I’m a reporter Ronald,” Rita said, “Now, unless you want your father to become unemployed—”

“Quit—!” Harry started.

“Over here!” Richard barked.

“He’s thirteen!” shouted the brunette from earlier.

Several constables approached and witnessed Rita’s hand on Harry’s hard erection, when she gave one more tease. The short man, nearby, with a camera, took pictures. Harry felt the tremors, the spasms , as his hard cock took control, unleashed itself. Off white semen shot out of the barrel, onto Rita’s hand, and her dark green dress.

“Mamm,” the first constable said, with authority in his voice, “I need to ask you a few questions.”

“I got the answers I needed,” Rita said before Harry saw the tip of the wand in her cuff, “Obliviate!”

“Never mind, move along,” the man said, before both constables left.

“Now you—” Rita started.

“Stay away!” Harry barked, pointed his finger at her, “I solemnly swear to swat every bug I see!”

“Come,” Richard said.

Harry and Richard ran; Jen and Gia followed. They made it to Waterloo station; Richard made for the ticket machine, removed his wallet from Jen’s pocket, and punched in.

“I need to use the loo,” Jen said as Richard fed a twenty pound note in.

“Wait on it,” Richard said as he grabbed the tickets.

They studied the board, made for the platform, and boarded the train. Jen made for the lavatory; Richard, Harry, and Gia followed her in. It was crowded, but tolerable as Jen pulled her blue jeans and panties down, sat on the toilet.

“I don’t need cheerleaders for this,” Jen said, her eyes on the erection hovering in front of her; Richard’s circumcised modest shaft beneath the brown pubic hair. Harry’s intact foreskin simply dangled softly from the jet black pubic hair, a bit of dew still clung to the tip.

“Our arses need the wipes,” Richard said, wetting a paper towel in the sink. He wipped his crack.

Harry wet one, wiped his.

“I’m with Harry,” Gia said.

Richard and Harry finished; Harry punched the button, him and Gia left.Harry found an open four seater, sat. Gia sat next to him, but against the window, as Richard came down the aisle, leaned in.

“So, who was that chick handling everything?” Gia asked, “Ran with you?”

“Didn’t catch her name,” Harry said.

“Dunno, it helped me stay running,” Richard said, “I guess she liked what she saw.”

“Good taste,” Gia said.

“Excuse me,” Jen said as she came in to sit, facing Harry and Gia.

Richard went to sit, but Jen pointed, and he leaned back against the window, legs spread a bit, the hard erection jutted outward, while the loose testicles hung there.

“I wanted to rest,” Richard said, “Bit sore.”

“In a bit,” Jen said.

Gia and Jen watched from opposite sides, as the balls jostled as the train moved, swayed.

“Let him sit,” Harry said, “Perhaps bang?”

You might be up for it, in public,” Richard said, as he sat down next to Jen, “I’m not.”

“It’s not like I’m seeking it out,” Harry said, “Just don’t care.”

In the suit of Southern Rail , the ticket inspector came by, Jen handed them over, and they were stamped before the man moved onward.

“Who was that other—lady?” Jen said, “The one that made you—?”

“A reporter,” Harry said, “Best not to explain it, but we’ve crossed paths before.”

“Evidently,” Jen said.

Harry curled up on the seat, leaned over, put his head in Gia’s lap, right ear down, while her boobs rested on his left. He napped until he felt Gia tugging on him to wake to see her boobs hanging right over his head, he was on his back and she was massaging his ball sack.

“Come on,” Richard said.

Harry stood; him and Gia followed Richard, left the train. Harry felt soreness with every step, his muscles protested, as they made their way back to 26 Oak. They entered, went up the stairs.

“Blimey!” Harry muttered as he entered Gia’s bedroom. Nicely laid out on her bed, though wrinkled, were Gia’s bottle green dress, and his tuxedo including his wallet.

“These are definitely them,” Gia said.

“I know,” Harry said, the cuts in the fabric were distinctive.

The door closed behind them, Harry turned to see Sirius standing there.

“I wish you had let me know your plans,” Sirius said, “I was expecting you back last night!”

“I haven’t a clue,” Harry said as he pointed to their clothes, “We were planning on coming back, guess we got a bit too tired.”

“Your Portkey could’ve gotten you back,” Sirius said.

“It was already here,” Harry said, he pointed to Hedwig’s perch on top of the bookshelf next to the window, the Hogwarts pin next to it.

“Or, head to the Leaky Cauldron,” Sirius said.

“I’m the Harry Potter!” Harry said, “It’d get noticed, and I didn’t want to be noticed. If you’ll excuse me, I really need that hot tub.”

Harry reached for the door, opened it. He and Gia walked across the landing, opened Richard’s door and entered his bedroom.

“Oh,” Richard said.

Jen was starkers on his bed, Richard was fitting a condom onto his hard erection.

“Hot tub ready?” Harry asked.

“Should be,” Richard said, “Mind?”

“Go ahead,” Harry said.

Richard trembled a bit, as he laid down on Jen, the shaft pushed in between the labia of the wool covered pubics. He paused.

“Crimping my style,” Richard said.

“Focus on her, not us,” Gia said, “Harry.”

Harry and Gia went out the back sliding glass door, onto the roof. Harry moved the cover. Harry stepped up, in, and the hot water began to soak into him, easing the tension in his muscles. Richard came out a couple of moments later, the condom still fitted to his softening penis, the tip filled with white.

“Sorry about that,” Richard said, “Too many watchers, not like you two.”

“It didn’t start out easy,” Harry said, “Just one nervous bang after another, until… Let’s just say I’d rather fuck than worry what others might think.”

Gia lifted Harry, slipped beneath him, let his butt rest between her legs, as she began to massage his buttocks. Jen came out as Richard pulled the condom off the shrunken penis, tossed it aside.

“Looks inviting,” Jen said, “Mind?”

“Sure,” Gia said.

Jen slipped in.

“Just didn’t understand that copper,” Jen said, “One moment, he was about to arrest that woman for child molestation—she said you’re thirteen—”

“I’m sixteen!” Harry protested.

“She’s quite talented in persuasion,” Gia said, “Hopefully, that’s that, the end of it.”

“Where’s Potter?” came the questions as Ron and Hermione entered the Great Hall Sunday morning for breakfast.

“How should I know?” Ron retorted.

“You sleep with him!” came Ernie’s reply.

“I slept with Hermione!” Ron snapped.

Hermione glared as they sat.

“Well, it’s the truth,” Ron said to her, “We’re steady, and it’s fine.”

An owl delivered the Sunday edition of The Daily Prophet to Hermione. She turned to five pages in.

The Daily Prophet

Potter Alert

A reliable source indicates that Harry Potter was seen in London, participating in something called the Bard’s Run , a marathon (twenty six mile run) to satirically commemorate an esteemed muggle profession. However, it is the consensus of the editorial board that this was merely an overenthusiastic fan using attire acquired from Diagon Alley.

Hermione skipped the article written by Rita Skeeter and turned the page. Both pages six and seven were full of photographs. Another flip, and pages eight and nine; again, page ten and eleven.

“Definitely looks like Harry,” Hermione said, “All we need to do is—”

“And ruin his life?” Ron said, “No.”

“It’s the perfect Alibi,” Hermione said.

“Of course it is, but he can’t use it,” Ron said, “I mea