The characters and places described in this story are the copyrighted and trademarked property of author J.K. Rawlings and her publishers. This story is certainly not part of the official Harry Potter series and is in no way endorsed by the author. I simply wanted to take a set of characters that have captured the imaginations of so many and try to spur those imaginations in a different direction.
Muggle Magic 6
Harry Potter awoke with a start. It took a moment before his befuddled senses could identify his surroundings. "Oh yeah," he remembered. "I'm at the Weasley's." Then he began to remember the previous night's activities with the three youngest Weasley brothers. The sheer sexual magnitude of what had happened left him feeling like a hollow shell this morning but he didn't care. He could barely wipe the smile from his face however exhausted he felt.
He looked around his unfamiliar surroundings and saw his new sex partners were all still asleep. Harry, always an early riser, got out of bed quietly and made his way to the bathroom for his morning ablutions.
The shabby, run-down house was still. Arthur Weasley was a government employee and, as such, did not have a very sizable salary. The burden of having had seven children to provide for left them living a subsistence-level existence. Some of the kids at Hogwart's teased the Weasleys about their hand-me-down clothes and humble means.
Nevertheless, for all its dilapidated appearance and modest trappings, the Weasley house was obviously filled with love. The care and compassion they had for each other was clearly evident and was not confined to themselves alone. They had taken poor young Harry under their wings and treated him as if he were one of their own.
As he made his way down the creaking stairs he could hear the appetizing sizzle of cooking come from the house's cozy kitchen, drawing him inexorably to engorge his famished belly.
"Well, good morning Harry," Molly Weasley, the matriarch, positively beamed at him. "You're up early. Sit down and let me bring you some breakfast."
Harry was used to doing most of the work around his aunt and uncle's house so he asked Mrs. Weasley how he might help. She would have none of it. She mildly scolded him, made him sit down, and proceeded to serve him joyfully and selflessly. Harry had never been treated as kindly and concernedly. He felt he could get rather used to it.
The two conversed easily while they were alone together in the room, Harry busily consuming his breakfast while Mrs. Weasley scurried about cooking, cleaning, and preparing breakfast for her large, cheery family. They could hear sounds wafting down from upstairs as, one-by-one, the family stirred.
Mr. Weasley entered, dressed for work, and kissed his busy wife who shooed him away, clucking at him and half-heartedly complaining about all the work she had to do. He sat down next to Harry and pleasantly quizzed him about how he was, how the boys were treating him, how was he enjoying his stay, and so on. Next, the children began arriving at irregular intervals and their mother served breakfast to each one in turn. They chatted with one another jovially, treating Harry no differently than they treated each other, until soon Harry began to feel so accepted, so much a part of the close, happy family that it almost made him want to cry.
After they all were finished and Mr. Weasley left for work, light chores were assigned to each child and they all began to depart casually to set about upon the day's activities, leaving Mrs. Weasley to finish cleaning up in the kitchen.
Harry, Ron, and the twins were given some light gardening duties and they started in on them in a relaxed, disorganized way. Chores at the Dursley house were serious business with no shirking or fun allowed until everything was done. Here with the Weasleys, however, it almost seemed like there was always more play than work accomplished.
"So, how'd you sleep last night, Harry?" asked George with a smug smile.
"Like a log," answered Harry.
"I'll bet," Ron chimed in. "I was a total wreck."
"Me too," said Fred.
"Me three," George exclaimed.
"Guys, I'm sorry I was so loud last night," Harry apologized. "I can usually contain myself but what you guys were doing was so incredible, so unbelievable, I just lost control. Who knows what your parents thought."
"Hey, don't worry about it," said George. "We always put a sound dampening spell around the room before we start playing around. You must have been asleep when we did it."
"A sound dampening spell?" Harry thought he could definitely put something like that to good use. "Will you teach it to me?"
"Sure, it's easy," replied Fred.
"One thing I've been wondering about," Harry continued. "Is there any other kind of magic you can use in, you know, having sex and stuff."
The three Weasleys paused and looked at each other, totally serious now.
"Don't even think about doing stuff like that," said George.
"Yeah," Ron broke in. "You didn't have a chance for your father to have the talk with you so maybe we better."
"The talk?" asked Harry. "You mean like the birds and the bees?"
"Well, yeah," Fred began, "but with wizards it's a bit more complicated."
"Complicated, how?" Harry was not sure where all this was going.
"Let's sit down a minute," counseled George.
After they were all sitting Fred started in. "You see Harry, sex is a very powerful force in and of itself. Things can go really screwy if a witch or wizard tries to interfere with that force by using magic." Essentially, sex has magical properties all its own. In fact, in the magical community we sometimes call it 'muggle magic' because even muggles can harness its power and potential."
Harry had heard the term before but had assumed it was some sort of putdown or sarcastic reference to non-magical people. Now, he nodded knowingly. Certainly his chubby cousin Dudley was adept at using the power of sex. He had bewitched poor Harry almost immediately. Not that Harry minded, of course. He was completely under the beautiful big boy's spell and didn't want it any other way.
George continued. "Now you can use spells around the act like our sound spell or your magic light last night but if a wizard tries to interfere with the act itself... Well, there are stories."
"Stories?" Harry asked curiously.
The brothers looked at each other and Ron whispered, "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."
Voldemort? That was the name of the evil wizard that had tried to kill Harry when he was an infant. The one who had killed his parents. The one who was responsible for the lightning-shaped scar on Harry's forehead and for the celebrity Harry enjoyed after the attack on him backfired and broke most of Voldemort's power.
"What does Voldemort have to do with what we're talking about?" asked Harry, seeing the brothers flinch, like everyone did, when he spoke the dreaded name.
"Didn't you ever wonder why he turned to evil?" Ron inquired.
"I thought he was power-hungry; that he wanted to rule the world. You know, all the normal stuff." Harry answered.
"Well," Ron continued. "It might have ended up as you said, normal stuff, but supposedly it started real abnormally."
"Abnormal how?"
"Well they say that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had an extremely small peter." Fred broke in.
Harry couldn't help a swift glance down at his crotch where his own diminutive dick resided.
"Oh, I mean way smaller than even yours, which I think is pretty nice by the way," continued Fred. It seemed weird to be talking so seriously about someone's physical shortcomings this way, even if it was Voldemort. For boys this age, teasing someone about their dick size was something to be expected, something humorous or mean-spirited, not deadly serious. "The story is that Volde... I mean HE tried a growing spell on his penis and he went mad in the process. That's when he started to have delusions of being some all-mighty, godlike being. That's when he turned to evil and almost took over the magical community, killing so many, like your parents, Harry. Sorry. He caused so much misery and trouble all because he wanted a bigger dick. Anyway, that's the story. I don't know for sure if its true or not."
Harry was dumbstruck. Could this be true? He had only one last question. "Did it work?" he asked.
"Did what work?" George answered back.
"Did his dick get bigger?" Harry clarified his previous question.
"That's not the point," said George. "The point is you should never, NEVER, mess around with magic where sex is involved. Nobody knows for sure if it worked or not, but you can bet no one's tried it since." Lowering his voice to a whisper he added, "the rumor is that it didn't. Some people say it made it even smaller and that's what made him so mean."
Fred piped in. "They say he turned his attention to world-conquest to compensate for his... inadequacies."
"Where can I find that spell," Harry said jokingly. The three redheads looked at him with sudden concern and doubt, so he added, "I'm kidding." The brothers continued to stare at him. "Really, don't worry, I'm reasonably happy with my penis, I just wish it would hurry up and grow some. So Voldemort had a teeny penis, I wonder if that's Draco's problem." He said, referring to his nemesis at Hogwart's.
"Don't even joke about stuff like that," Ron said worriedly. Then he smiled, "But I bet Draco can't find his with a magnifying glass." He hated Draco Malfoy even more than Harry did. Too many times he had been the butt of Malfoy's malicious comments about his clothes and about how poor his family was. One of these days he was just going to belt the smug little twerp.
The boys resumed their work and, in no time at all, had it finished and were trying to decide what to do with their leisure time. Ron suggested they go skinny-dipping and since they were all hot, dirty, and sweaty from working in the dirt, they set off to the little pond in the woods behind their house.
The boys assured Harry that nobody ever disturbed them there, besides, they could always use the magic they possessed to hide themselves from prying eyes or cloud the memories of anyone who chanced upon them. Harry, still a bit of a prude, despite all his growing familiarity with sex, finally assented to the suggestion to swim nude.
Young and carefree, the four friends splashed about for a while, dunking each other's heads in the water and wrestling in the shallows until, feeling worn out from their exertions last night, this morning, and this afternoon, they lay naked on the bank, absorbing the sun's warming rays.
Harry was lying next to Fred and, tired though he was, he couldn't doze off like the others. He was still fascinated by the older boy's fat, hairy penis. It had flopped over to one side and lay sideways along Fred's right hip, the uncircumcised tip aimed directly at Harry.
Harry's eyes traveled up and down the stocky teen's almost-muscular form. The skin all over his body was white and freckled. Like most redheads, the Weasley clan didn't get suntans; they only got sunburned and then their skin turned back to white, barely darker than it had been before. His thick calves and shins were lightly covered in delicate reddish-gold hairs that stopped below his knees, leaving his stout white thighs completely bare. Fred was using the arm closest to Harry as a makeshift pillow, his head resting in his palm so Harry could see the red hairs of the young teen's armpit. They were barely more than a reddish smear, about a half-inch wide and an inch long, and were located more on the underside of Fred's arm than in the soft folds where the arm joined his upper torso. However scanty they appeared, they were hairs and Harry, forever conscious of his body's hairlessness was both aroused and jealous at the sight.
How Harry wished he had hair. He wanted scads of it. He wanted a forest of it growing under his arms, a full, bushy beard, and bear-like chest hair. He wanted it to be so dense on his legs that you could barely see the skin. He wouldn't even mind having some on his back but since he had only ever seen a couple of pictures of his parents, he wasn't at all sure what his body's genetic potential might be. He might never get the furry coat he desperately desired. For right now he would settle for just a couple of skimpy hairs on his bald groin.
Harry put forth his hand and gently felt the little red hairs under Fred's arm with the tips of his fingers and then petted them, marveling at their tender softness. Fred stirred at Harry's touch and, rolling over toward him, he opened his eyes and smiled sleepily.
"I'm glad you came, Harry," he mumbled.
Harry continued to rub at the teen's armpit, then started to rub the backs of his fingers along the sleepy boy's delicate cheek. The golden glow of sunlight made visible the tiny golden hairs that would someday become a manly beard. Some were already beginning to thicken and lengthen where his sideburns and mustache would be and on his silky upper lip Harry could see minute beads of perspiration clinging there.
The groggy teen lay over on his back and reaching up to take Harry's small hand in his own, he squeezed and started to pull it down toward his still flaccid penis.
Harry leaned over to whisper in Fred's ear, "Not so fast. I want to take my time."
He pulled his hand from Fred's and began to trace circles on the broad chest before him, widening each time until he reached one of the boy's nipples. Harry rubbed the tip of his finger back and forth across the sensitive spot before pinching it gently between his thumb and forefinger and pulling at it.
Harry leaned forward now and started to tongue the now erect nub. He kissed softly between the older boy's pecs and began kissing down toward his navel. Fred had been lying out in the cloudless summer day for some time now and Harry felt as if he were consuming the warmth and glow of the sun itself as his lips caressed the sun-drenched skin. When he got to Fred's bellybutton he plunged his busy tongue into it and sucked at it, making the slight amount of fatty tissue beneath Fred's belly ripple in response.
He raised himself from his task and scooted down to explore Fred's feet and toes. His jealousy returned as he massaged each toe and felt the three or four thick hairs that grew on each knuckle. He began to lick and suck at the wide, clean digits as Fred began to sigh with utter contentment. Harry began to massage the redheaded teen's calves and shins, enjoying the feel of the golden-red leg hairs beneath his hands.
He moved purposefully back up to Fred's midriff and turned his complete attention to the small fluffy bush of pubic hairs. He was really jealous of this feature of puberty. Jealous yes, but oh, so aroused and fascinated by it. He patted it down with his palm, to watch it slowly spring back into place. These hairs were curly and becoming wiry, not like the straighter, softer hairs of Dudley and Ron's early pubescence. He ground them between groin and palm and could swear he could hear them crackling as he felt them tumble beneath his hand.
As he concentrate on playing with Fred's teen bush, his thumb wrapped accidentally around the base of Fred's straining, erect prick. It was the biggest erection Harry had ever seen this close. Hell, it was the biggest he had seen, ever. He'd had a chance to hold it, or its twin, Harry wasn't really sure which, last night but that was too brief and fleeting to really count. Harry grabbed the hot, hard, 5 1/2 inch rod with both hands, one at its base and the other at its apex, mesmerized that its entire length completely filled both his smallish hands. It was thicker than he remembered, too. Its girth filled his hands like it was something meant for a man to play with, not a boy, especially not a slight boy like Harry.
Harry started pumping the enormous organ. At least it seemed enormous to him. He felt utterly dominated by the humongous thing. Harry had a decision to make. He really, really wanted to suck the titanic teen cock but he had promised himself to save his mouth for Dudley. But oh, how he yearned to wrap his little boy lips around this man-sized meat. How about the sperm that this thing could spew? Ever since his first taste of Dudley's thin semen, Harry knew that he wanted more, more, always more. How much could Fred feed him, he wondered. How would it taste? Last night he had hoped to see how thick teencum was but hadn't had the chance because it was all gobbled up before he got a look.
Harry made up his mind. He whispered a small apology to Dudley under his breath and dove right in, or rather on. He had to stretch his lips wide to fit the huge head into his mouth but he made it. He worked the foreskin back so he could taste the delicious slimy tip and taste it he did, sucking strenuously as Fred's delighted moans made music to his ears. "Oh, it's so good," Harry tried to groan around the flesh that filled his mouth and the vibrations of his attempt to speak drove Fred wild. "I love it, I need it," Harry spoke again but his muffled voice sounded more like squeaks of delight than real words. He worked the sensitive cockhead over like a pro but Harry wanted more. "Do I dare?" he wondered. "Heck yeah," he thought to himself as he began to laboriously work the big teen dick into his slurping orifice. Halfway down he felt the iron-hard pole bump against the roof of his mouth. He reoriented himself and was able to work even more of it in until he stopped just short of his goal of burying his cute button nose into that sexy red bush. One or two longer hairs tickled his nose and the erotic thrill of that feeling spurred him on. He straightened out his neck and pressed downward again. He felt the thick hardness start to enter his throat. He relaxed his muscles and suddenly his nose was rubbing deliciously against Fred's hair covered groin as the incredibly stiff prick plopped fully into his throat.
Fred was aghast. "How can he do that?" he wondered. He couldn't believe that this kid, this boy, so small in stature, so slight and diminutive could take him fully. The sight itself was enough to make him shoot. Oh, but the sensations! As his dick seemed to literally jump into the enclosing tightness of Harry's throat Fred wanted to scream with delight. "Yeah," he growled. "Suck it, Harry. Suck it dry!" Fred reached down and grabbed Harry's head. The tightness of Harry's throat had peeled back the foreskin of the fourteen-year old's dick when it had entered and Fred felt his sensitive cockhead rubbing moistly against the juicy membrane of Harry's alimentary canal. Fred was thrusting as he pushed Harry's head down to meet his plunging hips. Harry quickly learned to breathe through his nose or he would have been asphyxiated. They weren't long thrusts, just enough to rub the sensitive tip of Fred's dick along Harry's clasping gullet. The slimy friction was becoming too much for poor Fred and his release was imminent. One more thrust, another, then "AAARGHHHH." Teen jism spewed ferociously forth. One, two, three, four violent spurts of sperm. Harry tried to yell, "Let me up. I want to taste it," but to no avail. He struggled against the powerful boy's passionate grasp, trying desperately to rise up enough to take the tasty teen cum upon his tongue. He wanted to roll it around his mouth, to savor its musky flavor, to check its viscosity and texture. He simply wasn't strong enough to break the bigger boy's hold upon his head.
Fred simply thought the muffled grunts and writhings of the little boy were an expression of his passion and excitement. He saw no reason to let little Harry Potter go until his orgasm was complete, which it now was, incredibly so.
Harry looked up to find that Ron and George were staring at him in open-mouthed awe. "What?" Harry said in response to their continued stares.
They could only clear their throats and mumble. They must have enjoyed the show because their torsos were spotted with little milky-white globules. Harry eyed the teen sperm on George's abdomen greedily. He went over and started to lick the rapidly cooling fluid. He didn't just want it; he needed it. It was almost as good and plentiful as he'd imagined. Of course, he would prefer to get it directly from the source, hot and fresh. "Oh well, there'll be a next time," Harry thought.
Fred sank back upon the green grass in blazing sunlight. Sweat poured down his forehead to trickle down and drip from the tip of his nose. His armpits swam with perspiration and the paltry few red hairs that grew there looked a darker shade of red. Beads of sweat dotted his body and they didn't come from just being in the sun. Fred's muscular legs ached. He had so strenuously clenched his delighted muscles that he felt as if he'd run a mile or more. All in all, it was one of the most physically demanding experiences he had ever endured. But he'd gladly endure it again for he knew that Harry Potter, the world-renowned young boy that everyone thought would grow up to be one of the most talented and powerful wizards of his generation, already was a master of Muggle Magic.
I want to thank those who have taken the time to pen a few lines of encouragement. As this is my first effort of this type, I have come to realize just how necessary feedback and support is to spur one on. I urge any of you who have enjoyed the stories of any online author to tell them so. It well help them considerably.
J. Legarson jaime_legarson@hotmail.com