My deepest apologies to Scholastic Press and J.K. Rowling, who should, in a just world, have complete control over Harry's bum. Of course the REAL Harry Potter could not possibly be anything but a wholesome, normative creature. Perhaps he doesn't even have a bum. We shall never know.
The usual warnings apply.
Harry Potter and the Giant Sea Bass
Harry was enduring an excruciating term at Hogwarts; the source of his torment surprised no-one. Draco Malfoy seemed determined to mercilessly hound Harry, as if he was asking for some sort of provocation or retaliation on Harry's part. Though Hermione had been encouraging Harry to turn the other cheek and endure Draco's incessant snide remarks, he and Ron had been seriously considering unleashing one of Ron's brothers' magical toffees on Draco. All they had to do was figure out a way to intercept one of Draco's owls, which were more often than not laden with cakes and sweets from home.
"Maybe we could distract the owl somehow, with some sort of treat," Harry suggested.
Ron shook his head. "No, I'm afraid we'll have to stun it."
"That seems a bit extreme," said Harry, wondering what sort of trouble would present itself were he to be caught with one of the Malfoy's owls, limp and listless in his arms. "And besides, my stunning spells are barely adequate; that mouse hardly even slowed down yesterday in class."
"But Hermione's are quite good," Ron reminded him.
"Sssh," Harry whispered, spotting their substitute Magical Creatures teacher approaching. Ron and Harry were supposed to be feeding some baby mugwumps, but had given up after their first dozen passes with the cut up slug parts were rejected. Though their usual instructor wouldn't have stopped their plan to turn Draco into a deaf-mute house elf, and might have even helped them, their substitute was quite strict.
Harry looked over at Draco and found himself staring right into his pale blue eyes. Draco sneered at him and looked away, but not before Harry noticed that his expression had been a bit queer. It hadn't been his usual icy stare of contempt, but instead seemed more inquisitive or searching, as if Draco was about to ask him a question. How peculiar.
As he walked home from class with Ron and Hermione, Harry tried to describe Draco's strange mannerisms, but wasn't able to find the right words.
"It was queer," Harry said, shaking his head. "Just...queer."
"Well, whatever he was doing, just don't let it ruffle your feathers," Hermione said.
"That's easy for you to say, Hermione," Ron said, trying once again to convert Hermione to their side, the side of action and revenge.
As he was clambering up the hillside, envisioning a nice warm supper and an evening of scheming and plotting with Ron, Harry distinctly noticed a medium sized rock move directly in front of his foot, causing him to stumble and fall. He glanced behind him and saw Malfoy quickly conceal his wand and step behind a tree. Harry looked up after Ron and Hermione, and, seeing that they were far up the hill and thinking only of supper, decided to take on Draco alone. He watched the rest of the class wander past him; a few of them stopped to inquire if he was all right after his fall. After they had all gone by, all except Malfoy, Harry approached the tree cautiously, his wand out and ready. He wasn't sure precisely what he would say or do, but he did know that the animosity between himself and Draco Malfoy had reached an unprecedented crescendo. Deep down, Harry knew that Ron's plan with the magical toffee would only make matters worse; he'd rather settle this some other, preferably non-magical, way.
"Draco?" he said, circling the tree where he'd last spotted the tall, pale boy. Just as he was feeling like it would be best to turn around and join Ron and Hermione for supper, his wand was wrenched from his hand and disappeared. An Invisibility Cloak! Harry had thought that he was the only student at Hogwarts to use one, but evidently Draco had one as well and had been saving it for precisely this sort of occasion. "Draco!" Harry shouted, watching for footsteps in the grass. He was stuck now; he couldn't go back to Hogwarts without his wand. He felt naked without it, and started feeling the air around him for Draco's invisible body. As soon as he made contact, his hands disappeared under the cloak, followed by the rest of him. He watched his feet disappear and grew quite concerned for his safety until he felt Draco pull him close and kiss his nose.
"I say, Malfoy, that's my nose," Harry protested.
"Well," Draco said icily, "It's a bit hard to see under here."
"You could just let me go back up for some supper and forget about this whole plan--" But Harry had been silenced as Draco found his mouth and opened it gently, kissing him there almost as effectively as he had kissed his nose. Harry was surprised to find that he not only didn't mind it all that much, but was also relieved. This would explain why Draco was so pointedly and exceptionally cruel to him. Perhaps he simply wanted to bugger him, and was having trouble expressing himself. Harry still wasn't sure this was a good idea, and started groping around for his wand, which greatly encouraged Draco.
"Changed your mind?" Draco asked, pushing Harry's robes up over his hips. He nibbled at Harry's ears, one after the other, and slid a hand up under Harry's robes to pinch his nipple. Harry felt his hand run down his stomach and part his legs, stroking his balls gently, so lightly that he could hardly feel his fingers. Malfoy apparently had quite a lot of experience with this sort of thing. It made Harry wonder what those Slytherines did all night over in their dormitory. Harry let him push his robes up around his neck and felt his hands all over the place, almost like he had four or five hands instead of two. Harry, like most wizards his age, had often contemplated the masturbatory potential of magic and witchcraft, but, fearing for his safety, had never actually gone through with any of his ideas. Draco, apparently, had done some experimenting. Harry found what he hoped was his wand, but it turned out to be Draco's cock, embarrassingly similar in girth to his slim wand. He was about to make a snide remark about this when Draco muttered a spell Harry hadn't heard before. His cock started growing, and Harry, mostly out of fear and morbid curiousity, kept a tight grip on it.
"Malfoy, you could kill someone with that," Harry told him, no longer able to close his hand around it.
"Too big for you?" Draco asked, in an almost concerned voice.
"Too big? Too big?! You've just given yourself a donkey prick!"
Draco gripped Harry's bottom, massaging him gently and kissing his mouth again.
"Well, I wouldn't want to hurt you," Draco whispered, sucking Harry's ear into his mouth and moving his newly engorged cock against his bottom. Harry had to admit that his enhanced erection was more than a little bit appealing; this was precisely the sort of charm Harry had been wanting to work out for the longest time. He pushed Draco's robes up over his head, which Draco objected to, trying to hold on to them.
"I don't need my wand," Harry told him, wondering, as he felt Draco's flat, hard stomach, whether the Invisibility Cloak had been invented for precisely these moments. "Just so you give it back."
"Only after I fuck you with this donkey prick," Draco whispered. Harry made no move to retrieve his wand, so Draco slid down Harry's body, pushing his legs open and licking his balls, which gave Harry an instant erection. Draco worked his way around Harry's prick with his mouth, sucking him so hard that Harry wondered whether he had put some sort of vacuum charm on his mouth. Just as he felt himself about to come, Draco slipped a finger up Harry's bum, stroking the upper wall of his ass. Harry moaned involuntarily, glancing off to the side and noticing that Draco's legs and bottom had slipped out from under the Invisibility Cloak. He was industriously pumping away at the grass, which made Harry smile until he felt a second finger enter him, at which time he let out a terrific moan and tried to warn Draco about his imminent ejaculation. Draco didn't seem to mind the prospect of swallowing Harry's load, and wouldn't have had time to pull away even had he wished to.
Draco worked his way up Harry's body, keeping his fingers up his bum, his legs slowly disappearing underneath the cloak. He kissed Harry's mouth again, his fingers prodding his virginal asshole insistently. Harry almost swooned at the taste of his own prick. He wrapped his arms around Draco's neck, trying to eat as much come out of his mouth as he could. He felt a third finger enter him and raised his hips up so Draco could push in deeper.
"What do you want me to do?" Draco asked him, pulling away from Harry's mouth and pulling his fingers out of his ass.
"Stick it in," Harry replied, finding Draco's bottom and pulling his body down close to him. "Please, Malfoy," he whispered, feeling Malfoy's giant prick rub up against his own.
"If you say so," Draco whispered back, sitting up and grabbing Harry's ankles, resting a foot on each shoulder and spreading his ass open gently. He reached for his wand and Harry felt some sort of wet substance flood from his behind. "Oh, sorry, that spell's a bit too strong sometimes," Draco apologized, wiping Harry off. "It's a lubricating spell," he explained, taking advantage of Harry's surprise and revulsion to stick several inches of his thick new cock into Harry's well-lubed behind. Harry reached up and grabbed a handful of his thick black hair, holding on for dear life as Malfoy steadily pushed into him.
Harry moaned, biting his fingers in an effort to be quieter. He found silence to be an impossibility as Draco started moving in and out slowly, then more and more quickly.
"I want to see you," Harry said, finding it difficult to associate Draco's inspired thrusts with the peaceful Hogwarts landscape that surrounded and constituted them. A babbling brook was not what Harry was visualizing. Harry reached for the Invisibility Cloak and pulled it away, grateful for the fresh air and the gorgeous view of Draco's young, lithe body pumping in and out of him athletically. His giant cock did look a bit out of proportion, but Harry could forgive that.
He wondered why he had never noticed how attractive Draco was before. His cruelty had overshadowed his remarkable appearance. Almost an albino, Draco was so pale that his eyes were barely blue and his hair was only slightly blonde. Straight and fine, it fell around his head beautifully, so unlike Harry's unruly and tangled mop of hair. Something about Harry must have appealed, though, for Draco was looking at him adoringly, sort of a cross between his queer expression during the magical creatures class and the look that came over him whenever he had done or said something especially devastating and witty.
Harry did present a striking appearance; his robes hiked up around his armpits, he was biting the fingers of one hand and holding onto his hair with the other. His bright green eyes picked up the grass beneath him, and his scrawny ribcage and hollow stomach peeked out from under his robes. Harry felt himself tighten around Draco's cock and looked away, starting to come again just from the fucking. He took his fingers from his mouth and cried out, feeling Draco expel an astonishing amount of spunk into his already full asshole. Draco collapsed on top of Harry, nibbling his neck and throat and whispering the nicest things Harry had ever heard him say in his ear.
"Malfoy, your prick seems to be permanently, er, enhanced," Harry said, wondering if he would ever have his ass back from its clutches. "Is that the first time you've done that spell?" Harry asked, wriggling free from Draco and examining his giant member.
Draco fished around for his wand and tried several counter spells. Harry found his wand in Draco's robes and gave it a go as well.
"Oh dear," Harry gasped as two of their spells crossed and resulted in Draco's penis transforming into a giant sea bass, gasping for air. Draco looked discouraged. "I know," Harry said, "I'll just swap the sea bass," he waved his wand, "For a copy of my prick." Harry accomplished this, pulled up his robes to check that he remained intact, and admired his handiwork. "Mine was bigger to start with, so it's even an improvement!"
Draco sighed, obviously relieved to be free of his almost ungainly burden. "Thanks, Harry," he said, pulling his robes back on. "You'll have to teach me what sorts of things it prefers sometime."
"Oh, I think they all work roughly the same way," Harry surmised, starting to stand up and stretch his legs. Draco pulled him back down and kissed him again.
"If you let me fuck you again, I'll stop picking on you," Draco hissed in his ear, the old iciness returning to his voice. It didn't seem like such a bad bargain to Harry, though the absence of the magical dick would make things slightly less interesting.
"Only if you teach me some dirty spells," Harry replied, walking back to the castle with him.
"Well, I'm not very good at them yet," Draco said, blushing slightly. They snuck into the dining hall together and sat at their usual tables.
"Harry! What happened? Why'd you walk in with Malfoy? I didn't even realize you were gone, then I noticed he was gone, and I would've come and found you, but--"
Harry cut Ron off, saying "I...ah...I figured out what he wanted."
"You've got twigs and things all over the back of your robe," Hermione said, fussing over him and flicking away the leaves and pieces of grass that had stuck to him. "And in your hair! Are you all right, Harry?"
"Oh, quite well, thanks," Harry said, catching Draco's eye and simultaneously feeling his bottom grow moist and, well, lubricated. He shifted in his seat, smiling at Hermione uneasily. He had a sinking feeling that Draco would manage to continue tormenting him, just a different sort of torment than he was used to. He looked back over at Malfoy and noted that he had casually draped his arm over the shoulders of the boy next to him, an extremely attractive third-year with dark hair and eyes. This beautiful boy looked over at Harry and winked, batting his long eyelashes at him and taking an unnecessarily sensuous bite of the curry they were eating that night. The whole Slytherine house must be a pit of sin and debauchery, Harry thought, reconsidering his earlier desire to avoid placement in that house at all costs. He certainly would have enjoyed more extracurricular activity than he did with Ron and Hermione, Harry mused, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice.
....
When they changed into their pajamas that evening, Ron couldn't help but notice Harry's reddish bum and the semen still trickling down his thigh. He looked away quickly, humming to himself as he started cleaning his broomstick. Harry kept trying to talk to him about different things--Quidditch, their classes, Hermione's apparent addiction to the library, but Ron just kept humming, putting the broomstick away and starting to reorganize his trunk.
"Come on, Ron, you never organize your trunk," Harry sighed, wondering why Ron was suddenly upset with him. "I thought we put all that behind us."
"All what?" Ron asked.
"Oh, you know, you being jealous of me during that Triwizard thing."
"Oh, I...ah...thought you might have been referring to your deviant sexual habits," Ron said airily, carefully color-coordinating his socks.
"What? Habits?"
"Doesn't it make you a bit uncomfortable? Trickling down your leg like that? You don't find it a bit...sticky?"
Harry's face went white, then a deep red color. He practically sprinted to the toilet, wiping himself off as best he could, considering that Draco's lubricating charm was still in effect. How could he face Ron now? Maybe he could go sleep in the common room. No, he thought, that was silly. Ron must have participated in a buggering at one point or another. An English school boy--he should know. Harry was positive that even Dudley must have seen some action by now. Although, he thought, stopping his forward motion back toward the bedroom, Ron was not a Muggle. Perhaps only Muggle schoolboys buggered each other. But the Slytherines did, apparently. And Draco seemed to have a bit more in mind than simply buggering him; he was quite enamoured of Harry, if his previous levels of animosity were anything by which to judge infatuation.
Harry took a deep breath and went back to the bedroom.
"Oh, hi there," Ron said, not smiling. "So, who did you?"
Harry couldn't bring himself to respond. Ron had finished his trunk, and was going to work on his wand when Neville arrived.
"I'm knackered," Neville announced, yawning and moving toward his four-poster.
"Guess what happened to Harry today?" Ron asked, catching Neville's eye.
"What happened?" Neville asked Harry, pulling on his pajama bottoms under his robe.
"Nothing," Harry said. "Nothing at all...er...Draco Malfoy and I," he said, looking at Ron pointedly, "had a bit of a toss after class. He stole my wand. Did you know he has an Invisibility Cloak?"
"No way," Neville said, rolling his eyes. "Nobody is safe now. Wonder how long he's had it."
"Did he put any spells on you?" Ron asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No, I managed to get it back. The wand, you know," Harry said, not even able to imagine how distracted and odd he must look to Neville.
"That'll teach him," Neville said, crawling into bed and shutting the curtains. "G'night," he added.
Ron glared at Harry, standing up and facing him. "You're shitting me," he whispered. Harry shook his head. "Please tell me that you're shitting me."
"No, it was really Draco."
"How could you...how could you let him?"
Harry shrugged. "He didn't give me many opportunities for escape."
"So you were, you know, violated?"
Harry shook his head slowly. "Not exactly," he whispered, pulling Ron out into the deserted common room so he didn't wake Neville.
"I had no idea that you fancied boys," Ron hissed, looking very upset with Harry, who shrugged. "Do you do this a lot? Is there something I should know? Are you just waiting for the right moment to pounce on me?"
"No, of course not," Harry said, covering his face with this hands. "It only happened once. Once isn't a habit." Harry peered out between his fingers. "Haven't you ever?"
"Definitely not."
"With a girl, then?"
"Not as far as you and Malfoy took it."
Harry sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Well, then don't go telling me what to do if you've never done it yourself." Ron just sat there, looking angry. "Well, hey," Harry said, trying to repair things. "At least we know why he was so mean to me. He fancied me!"
Ron just glowered at him. "I can't believe you slept with Malfoy. Of all the boys at this school, you had to go and pick the least appealing, worst mannered, downright frightful one."
"Listen, he picked me."
"Haven't you even considered that you've put yourself in a bit of danger here, Harry? Draco, or maybe you've forgotten, is your enemy. I'm sure that You Know Who put him up to this."
"Voldemort doesn't decide who gets buggered," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "Don't you think he has slightly more important, more pressing concerns than my bum and who fucks it?"
"I wouldn't put it past him," Ron said. "You know, the whole parselmouth thing. Snakes. Good grief Harry, between the snakes and the wands, you've been surrounded by phallic symbols from day one!" Ron sighed, looking away at the fire. They just sat there for a while, Harry smirking at the thought of Voldemort teaching Draco the lubrication spell, and Ron imagining what Draco looked like naked, a thought that made him vaguely queasy.
"I've got a good one," Harry said, grabbing Ron's arm as he was overcome by the giggles. "You know how Voldemort and I have the same bit of phoenix in our wands? And how we're both parselmouths? Maybe he's just using Draco to get to me and bugger me himself! Maybe he thinks we're soul mates! Like, next thing you know he'll be shacking up with me in a loft space in Chelsea or something!"
"That's exactly what I'm afraid of!" snapped Ron.
"He did tie me up a bit tight last year. The ropes were a bit snug, you know? Seemed to get a big kick out of that, he did."
Ron rolled his eyes. "Laugh all you want, Harry, but I think that Draco is up to no good."
"Well, we knew that," Harry snorted. "You know," he said after a bit, "It's not so bad. Buggering." In fact, Harry could not cease thinking back on his afternoon with Draco. He looked over at Ron and had a tremendous, unstoppable thought: he should get Ron to bugger him! The absence of the magical dick would take some of the sport out of it, but it would probably go all right anyhow. If Ron wouldn't do it, maybe he could sneak into the Slytherine house or something.
Ron pulled away so Harry wasn't touching his arm anymore, or rather, wasn't gently caressing and stroking his arm. "Told you, you were just waiting for an opportune moment!"
"Was not!" Harry said, crossing his arms and staring into the fire stonily. "It was nice, though. That's all I wanted to convey."
Ron just sat there, determined not to just wander off, leaving Harry so susceptible to rash behavior.
"I'll give you fifty quid?" Harry said, looking over at Ron hopefully.
"What? What! I say, Potter, you'd do best if you just go take a cold shower."
"You can't say you haven't thought about it. Buggering."
"Of course I haven't!"
"Oh, rubbish," Harry said, narrowing his eyes and staring at Ron until he gave in and shrugged. Maybe Harry could appeal to Ron's practicality. "He put this spell on me, this lubricating spell, and I'm afraid I've got to get fucked before it'll go away."
Ron curled up his nose. "That's disgusting!" he said. Bad tactic, thought Harry, scowling into the fire. Perhaps he could appeal to Ron's practicality on a deeper level. Reaching over as quickly as he could, Harry grabbed Ron's prick and gave it a good wank, simultaneously kissing him, just so he wouldn't cry out.
"Don't try and tell me you aren't a randy little fuck," Harry whispered before sticking his tongue down his ear like Draco had done. He withdrew promptly; Ron evidently wasn't too good about cleaning down there. "I say, you might want to try those little ear things, those cotton tips, you know?" Harry's wanking efforts were at last bearing fruit; Ron was stiffening in his hand, a terrified expression on his face.
"Harry," Ron gasped, grabbing onto his shoulders, "You'd better get to bed before I wet the couch!"
Harry pulled away, stood up, and winked at him. He had a feeling Ron would be back for more; how could an adolescent boy be left half-hard and not finish it off? Especially when he knew there was a warm body in the next bed over willing to assist him. Harry, emboldened by Draco's affections, had the suspicion that he was the only lover a boy like Ron could possibly want.
Sure enough, amid Neville's snores, Harry felt someone open the curtains around his bed and sneak in beside him. Ron felt around for Harry, locating a patch of bare skin and exploring from there. "What'd he do to you, Harry?" Ron asked, pushing his pajama bottoms aside and investigating the effects of Draco's lubrication spell, parting Harry's legs like a pro.
"Well, well, well...look who's changed their minds..."
Ron sighed, brushing over Harry's jibe. He knew that his brain and his body were merely support devices for his penis, and given a well-lubricated orifice, he simply wouldn't be able to stop himself. "What sort of prick did Draco have? A big one? I would think a little one."
"Oh, he put a spell on it."
"No way! Bill's told me about that, about how you can put spells on your own prick, but I've never dared try it."
"Bill knows them?"
"The spells? Of course he does."
"And has he told you them?"
"Yeah, but I've forgotten," Ron whispered, fumbling around with Harry's balls. He lacked Draco's finesse, that was a certainty, but his fumbling was sort of pleasant and surprising.
"You must remember," Harry pleaded, groping around for Ron's little prick and sighing. He was becoming quite a size queen.
"Oh, I'm not enough for you, m'lady?" Ron whispered in a funny voice. He flipped Harry around on his back and pushed into him anyway, immediately beginning a frenzied thrusting penetration that certainly topped Draco's almost laborious efforts to wield his grossly inflated member. The in and out motion was perhaps even better than the filled up feeling. Draco didn't have the muscle mass to move that huge, ghastly item as quickly as Ron could flit in and out of Harry's bum. Harry likened it later to the difference between a fencer and a medieval knight, whose sword, was, of course, ridiculously heavy and awkward.
"Ron, you're making the bed squeak," Harry whispered, hearing Neville's snores stutter then stop.
"Harry!" Neville yelled. "Quit wanking it!" he added, laughing.
"Oh, ah, sorry there, Neville," Harry said, biting his pillow as his face rhythmically migrated toward the headboard. Ron was unstoppable; the bed continued to squeak.
"I mean it now," Neville said, almost choking with laughter.
"Almost done, almost done," Harry cried out, feeling himself starting to come all over his bedding. What would the house elves think? He usually used a sock.
"You need some help in there or what?" Neville called, peeking out of his bed curtains and watching Harry's bed shake rather precariously.
"Ah, no, I've got plenty of help, thanks," Harry replied, shutting his eyes and concentrating on coming. This was different than with Draco, who was far more kissy and lovey-dovey. Ron was mostly concerned with getting off, something Harry both understood and respected. He would be a bit put off if Ron had taken to whispering sweet nothings in his ear. Not that Draco's affections weren't more than a bit alarming, but the same thing from Ron would have been incredibly awkward. Harry had a feeling they understood each other; all Harry wanted was a good fuck. He'd save the commitment dinner for Voldemort, he thought, sniggering to himself just as he definitively soiled the bedsheets. Ron fell on top of him, allowing the bed one last groan of protest.
"Nice work, there, Potter," Neville shouted. "Congratulations and all that!"
"G'night, Neville," Harry murmured, feeling Ron's breath at the back of his neck as he fell asleep. He wondered how he had managed to survive all these years at Hogwarts without this sort of naughty behavior. Two heart-stopping buggerings in one day! What could possibly happen tomorrow that could top this? Harry decided to sleep on that question, and sleep well, for sometimes, ignorance is bliss.