Gay Harry Potter-05-5-Sex, Drugs, Rock-n-Roll-and Colin Creevey

by jerome1980

Repost. End of term. Professor McGonagall is in hospital. Gay Colin Creevey and his gay friends fight against the wiles of her replacement. Then Dumbledore is back, but the Slytherins are still a problem. Colin manages to have lots of sex between ditching them, and starring in the rock concert. Then, on the Hogwarts express, Colin and his boyfriend consummate their love.

GAY HARRY POTTER-05-5-SEX, DRUGS, ROCK 'N' ROLL—AND COLIN CREEVEY

Colin Creevey woke up with the horn, his brother, and a delightful sense of well-being.

The fourth-year exams had passed. Moreover, N.E.W.T.'s and .'s were finishing today, so pressures to respect the quietness needed by panicky revisers would be gone, and a riotous evening could be expected.

There would be a pleasantly relaxing atmosphere for the last few days of term; and then: the holidays!

It was not that he didn't like school; but the holidays made a change—a break, during which he would see his family and his other brother, Danny Jorrocks.

All sorts of exciting things were in prospect.

He thought about Danny. Three or four hours ago Danny would have woken up in Russia with his lover, Brian Hudson, and goodness knows how many of his delightful Russian boys.

Three weeks and Colin would see Danny; and before that, a fortnight with his family in Birmingham.

He shifted from his side to his back, removing his hand from Dennis's tummy. Dennis had his back to Colin, and was sleeping as peacefully as a kitten.

Colin smiled inwardly: as the end of term approached, Dennis would become more and more hyper. He kissed the back of his head.

He pulled back the bed-curtains a little way. It was a gorgeous June morning; the sort of morning that he would probably dream about as an old man. He considered getting up and going down to the lake before breakfast, so he could watch the early terns as they dived vertically for fish. Then laziness intervened: he would have another hour in bed.

He settled back and put an arm around his brother again, listening to the gentle sighs of his breathing.

He could hear Stewart's breathing, too; and Ray's light snoring; but nothing from either of the other beds.

They'd got Concealment and Silencing Charms in operation!

Laziness vanished, and he rolled on to the floor, and trotted over to Sea Jay's bed.

He parted the curtains and got onto the bed. He was now part of the charms: he could hear the loud sounds of his two friends making love; he could detect the strong smells of two fifteen-year-old boys exerting themselves; and, best of all, he could see Jonathan Neil's spotty bottom powering deep incursions into an upended Sea Jay.

Jonny and Sea Jay had been friends for four years, and lovers for three.

The summer would be a barren time for them, as holidays and family visits meant that they would only see each other for a couple of days in August, when they would be in Denmark, attending the Watts-Poxon nuptials.

Knowing that lean days were ahead, the two boys had sex as often as they could, and even when not indulging, were as physical as the Umbridge regime would allow.

Colin slipped off the bed and went to wake Dennis. He shook his brother's shoulder, and Dennis murmured: "It's a pebble." Goodness knows what he was dreaming about.

Another shake, and Dennis was half-conscious. Colin guided him over to the other bed, where he became alert as his bright eyes took in the joyful scene.

"Mirror me!" said Colin.

They lounged on each side of the heaving couple, each grabbing one of Sea Jay's feet and nibbling his toes.

At the same time, their other hands occupied themselves with Jonny's bumcheeks, rubbing them, and administering small and big pinches.

Colin loved the sensuality: the taste of Sea Jay's feet; the smell of damp armpits, with another mouldy sort of smell, which probably came from Sea Jay's bottom.

In addition there were gasps, grunts and squeaks from the two fornicators, and the gloopy sound of Jonny's long strokes into Sea Jay—each pair of gloops terminated by a slap as loins met buttocks.

Best of all, of course, was the sight of the two lovers: faces screwed up; so happy that they had invaded a realm belonging to pain.

And then there was Jonny's arse.

Trained by Danny, Colin really appreciated the variety of arses: each unique to its owner; each with its own appearance; each with its own surface and muscle texture.

Colin agreed with Danny that every arse was beautiful in its own way—male arses, anyway.

Jonny's arse would probably have been an also-ran in a Mister Arse 1996 competition: it was slightly too big; jutted out a bit too much; too angular and not rounded enough; and, of course it was spotty.

But to Colin, Jonny's spots were effectively a notice reading: ATTENTION! CONTENTS FULL OF MALE ESSENCES!

These essences were conspiring to send a squirt of the most male fluid of all into Sea Jay. Jonny was going harder and harder; his strokes were getting shorter and faster; the gloop, Ugh!, Ah! and slap sounds were becoming inseparable.

It was all too exciting for Colin: an involuntary spurt of cum splashed against Jonny's flank. He removed his hand from Sea Jay and stroked himself, adding another couple of spurts.

The two lovers had come to a climax too, the noise of their very wet kissing adding to the other sounds.

They had scarcely stopped moving when Dennis, his little willy rampant, jumped up, straddled Jonny, plunged downwards between his buttocks, and started his own high-speed oscillation.

Colin moved quickly too: kneeling on the floor, he pressed his head into his brother's jerking bumcheeks, and licked Dennis's hole.

Dennis, as always, loved it and gave a yowl of appreciation, rogering Jonny very quickly, and banging his smooth little bumcheeks against Colin's smooth upper cheeks.

He must have been in an unusually high state of excitement, as he came more quickly than usual, though still with his customary loud squeals.

The four happy boys lay panting and holding each other tightly.

Then they separated, and, tittering, offered Good mornings to each other.

"Do you know what?" said Dennis, "I think I may have squirted!"

There was much excitement, and Dennis's penis was examined closely; but it offered no evidence for or against.

Sea Jay then investigated the receptacle of the possible squirt: first he pressed his nose against Jonny's anus and inhaled deeply; then he tried a finger.

"Anything?" asked Dennis, hopefully.

"Dry as a Weetabix," said Sea Jay.

Colin had a go, but could only report: "Nothing; and Jonny, your echo's not as good as mine!" proving that camp humour is not confined to camp Muggles.

They went down to breakfast so happy that they were actually looking forward to the working day: freed from the pressures of exams and tests, the lessons would become educational entertainment.

Each boy was feeling that life couldn't get better.

In fact, it got a lot worse.

X

As they descended the staircase, they could hear a deafening babble from the common room, and knew something important had happened.

It took them some time before they managed to learn the unbelievable truth: Professor McGonagall had been seriously Stunned—Stunned by four men from the Ministry, who had accompanied Umbridge to evict, and possibly arrest, Hagrid.

They entered the Great Hall, each student hoping against hope that the upright figure of Professor McGonagall would be seated at the staff table, but no: Professor McGonagall and Professor Hagrid were absent.

There was, however, an unknown woman. She was old—so old that the absent Professor McGonagall would have appeared a schoolgirl in comparison.

"Hem, hem."

It was the call for attention of the despised Umbridge.

"Good morning students," she said, "I have some staff announcements.

"The previous incumbent of the Professorship for Care of Magical Creatures has been dismissed for incompetence. His replacement, Professor Grubbly-Plank, will be arriving tomorrow. For today's lessons, students will report to Professor Sprout, who will teach the combined class.

"I have to tell you that the dismissed staff member, in a frenzy of animal unruliness, wounded Professor McGonagall, who has been taken to St Mungo's, where we hope she will make a swift recovery."

Umbridge's hope did not sound at all sincere.

"With their usual efficiency," she continued, "the Ministry have, at very short notice, provided a supply teacher who will take over the teaching of Transfiguration and serve as Head of Gryffindor: Professor Harrower."

The witch who rose to her feet was a pleasant-faced, smiling, apple-cheeked soul, who might have been a textbook example of the genus Little Old Lady had she not, despite some age-related stooping, been five feet, ten inches.

"Good morning, boys and girls," she said, in an undoddery tone, "Let's all get on with it. Gryffindor prefects see me here after lunch, please."

She sat down with an abruptness which took everyone, including Umbridge, by surprise, and with a murmured "Thank you, Professor Harrower," she sat down and let everyone get on with their breakfasts.

The buzz of conversation was intense all through the meal, Umbridge discreetly forgoing her usual demands for less noise.

Such is the glamour of power that Umbridge had an extraordinary (i.e. non-zero) degree of credibility; it sounded feasible: Hagrid would fight; Ministry reinforcements would be needed; Professor McGonagall would intervene. Accidents will happen.

Many of the students believed the Umbridge version; even some eye-witnesses wondered if they had misinterpreted what they saw.

Colin and Dennis had no doubts about the truth, of course, and felt as if the whole world was beginning to unstitch itself.

After breakfast, they approached the fifth-years, who had seen the events of the previous night; but the fifth years had other priorities: that afternoon they had their last O.W.L., and it was in History of Magic, the worst-taught, most boring subject. They were scampering off for a morning's revision.

"Where's Sea Jay?" Colin asked of Jonathan.

"The Gay Champions are having a quick meeting."

"Funny time to have it. What's it about?"

"Dunno."

Colin caught sight of Alexander Bell, his special first-year friend, and called out: "Who you got now, Alex?"

"Umbridge," said the boy, coming over, "You?"

"Divination."

"Good luck with the Fire-up-Firenze project!"

The boys had long got over their embarrassment, and were seeking a way of steering Divination lessons towards some topic that might fire up Firenze, so that his already-impressive horse-penis might stiffen and elongate to an unknown, but presumably fantastic, degree.

Colin laughed: "Short of introducing a lady-centaur on heat, no-one's got any ideas."

"Before I go," said Alexander, "Can I book you for a chat about Saturday?"

"Saturday?" said Colin.

"Last Saturday of term."

"Oh yeah. We'll sit down and chat some time today."

Colin had an idea of the agenda, but was prevented from thinking about it as Sea Jay came running up.

Colin and Alexander said their see-yers, and Sea Jay burst out with his news: "That GC meeting was a cover. Adrian said something happened last night in Slytherin and he's worried."

Colin, Dennis and Jonny were agog.

Sea Jay continued: "This morning's the last N.E.W.T.—Defence Against the Dark Arts, Alternative-to-Practical. There's twelve Slytherins taking it and last night Umbridge had eight of them in her so-called classroom for three hours."

"So what?" said Jonny, "Last-minute revision."

"Adrian thinks it might have been more: suppose it was a word-by-word working through the actual paper."

"Impossible! The papers are powerfully Charmed so that they can't be unwrapped until the date and time of the exam."

"Wrapped at the Ministry! Adrian says it would only take one corrupt wizard to note down the questions before the papers were sealed."

"Bloody hell!" said Jonny, "It's so obvious: Umbridge would be mad not to do it. It's her subject, her school. Results reflect on her and she's such an awful teacher that no-one's gonna pass without private study, which is not Slytherin style, or cheating."

"Wait a minute," said Colin, "They have incredibly tough anti-cheating charms, during exams, don't they?"

"Yeah," said Jonny, "but they only deal with cribs, and intelligent quills and ink. This isn't real cheating: facts are being transferred honestly from the brain to the paper."

"I can't think of anything we can do," said Sea Jay.

"And if it succeeds," said Jonny, "think what will happen: Slytherins will get the best marks and grab the plum jobs for school-leavers and the Ministry will be even more corrupt than now."

"Can we tip anyone off?" asked Colin.

"We've got no proof and it's too late to arrange a change of exam paper," said Jonny.

"We'd better consult Hermione at break," said Colin.

"Good idea," said Jonny, "You sit next to Ray at Div, and brief him up."

Ray Kelly was the best wizard in their year.

The lads went of to their classes with a lot to think about.

X

Having failed to excite Firenze, the four lads—Colin, Sea Jay, Jonny and Ray—rushed up to the Gryffindor common room where, thank goodness, Hermione was sitting with Ron and Harry, making what they could of notes taken from the droning lectures of Professor Binns.

"Could we have a word, Hermione," said Colin, "It's really important."

"Yes, of course."

Ray explained the situation.

"With hindsight, we should have foreseen this," said Hermione, "But there may be a solution."

"Yeah?" said the lads.

"Well, although the info came from the Slytherin brains, it got there illicitly, so they would know they were cheating as they were writing their answers, which means a psychic residue of that knowledge would be left on their exam papers."

"A knowledge detectable by the examiners," said Ray.

"Only if they looked for it: N.E.W.T.'s and O.W.L.'s are a byword for honesty, and the examiners would never dream that a Ministry official and a Headmistress of Hogwarts would collude to raise students' marks.

"Anyway, there's probably a fairly easy spell to put things right: a form of Revelio! I think. Ron can we use your H.O.M. essays, please?"

"Go ahead," said Ron, "I'll never look at them again."

Hermione took one from what Ron called One of my junk folders, pointed her wand, and pronounced: Revelio non fraudantes!

The Essay had consisted of fifteen inches of closely written parchment.

It was still fifteen inches, but the writing was reduced to:

The reasons for the instability of the Galleon in the early years of the Nineteenth-century were

"Ron!" said Hermione, "You said you only used a bit of mine for that one!"

"I must have been at Quidditch practice," mumbled Ron.

"Never mind," said Hermione, "Who's the lucky boy?"

"Me," said Ray.

Hermione detached another essay and Ray raised his wand, uttered the Charm and succeeded in removing Hermione's contribution, leaving just:

The removal of Azkaban from Tussaud's to its present location was carried out in

The most notable of the prisoners moved were

The Agent in charge of the move was

who later found fame as

"Well done, Ray!" said Hermione, "Now go for the stack."

Ray focused on the remaining essays, pronounced: Revelio non fraudantes!, and looked to have been successful.

They checked the essays, and easily identify the two which Ron had had to write himself: as opposed to the fairly neat state of the other essays, these two were a mess of blotches and crossings-out.

"Good luck this afternoon, Ron," said Ray, and they all laughed.

"How are you going to work it?" asked Hermione.

"Some to divert the examiners, and me to do the spell," said Ray, "we could have done with Danny—he can do non-verbals—Oh! Keep that quiet: I think it's meant to be secret. What can you tell us about the examiners?"

"They're good people," said Hermione, "Professor Tofty's quite paternal—specially to the boys; Professor Marchbanks—Griselda—is highly intellectual, and loves meeting the cleverer students."

Hermione was blushing.

The four boys said their thank yous and went outside, beckoning Dennis over.

"We got a spell from Hermione," Colin told him, "Now, Ray, let's decide our plan. Dennis, you'd better go to your lessons. Sorry you won't be part of it."

"Nor will Sea Jay, I'm afraid," said Ray, "But listen to my suggestion first . . ."

As usual, Ray came up with a corker.

X

The fourth-years went to English and Latin, but at eleven-thirty Colin, Jonny and Ray gave Ancient Runes a miss, and went to work in the study room next to the library, occasionally getting up to fetch books referring to the two examiners.

The exam was due to finish at twelve o'clock. Five minutes before, Colin and Ray waited outside the hall, while Jonny lurked in readiness.

Ten seconds after twelve, the door opened and a Hufflepuff girl, almost in tears, came out. She was followed by another forty-odd students. Adrian Pucey gave Colin the ghost of a wink as he passed.

The two ancient professors were standing by a huge stack of parchments.

Ray led the way, marching up to the professors, and telling them: "Professors, I know you're busy, but this is my last chance to talk to you, and I'm ever so keen to learn about a couple of things. My name's Ray Kelly, and this is my friend Colin Creevey. We're taking our O.W.L.'s next year. I hope you can find a few minutes for us."

"Pleased to meet you, Ray and Colin," boomed Professor Marchbanks—a huge voice from such a tiny witch—"We've got plenty of time: an hour to lunch, and no prep for this afternoon. Fire away!"

"Well the first thing is: we sometimes miss out a little on the History of Magic, and I don't think Professor Binns's syllabus includes some of the developments in magic during the twentieth-century; and a good way of getting an overview of this would be to look at the way N.E.W.T.'s and O.W.L.'s have developed. And who better to ask?"

While this exchange was taking place, Colin had been standing well back, as though not particularly interested in the topic.

Professor Tofty glanced at him repeatedly, each glance longer than the last. Yes, he was susceptible!

The plan was working well so far: Ray, the bespectacled intellectual, was engaging Professor Marchbanks, while it looked as though the pretty Colin had hooked Professor Tofty.

"Of, course, deaths did occur occasionally during N.E.W.T.'s," Professor Marchbanks was saying, "But in my opinion, the Ministry over-reacted in nineteen thirty-seven; coddling the masses at the expense of the cream. It is a simple fact of life that all people are not created equal. A society will be judged in later generations, not by its doomed attempts to impose equality, but by the way it's encouraged excellence, while protecting the weakest."

Professor Tofty shuffled over to Colin: "You don't seem all that interested, Colin?"

"I am interested—a bit—but I really came for something else . . . er, could I have your autograph, please sir?"

He pulled out a small book from his pocket. It was actually Dennis's book, but the Professor was not to know that.

"My autograph? Good Heavens! I didn't know I was that famous."

"The decoding of the Stone of Endor; pioneering the Floo network; founding the Junior Ganymede club—"

The Professor snorted: "That place has gone downhill. Stay away is my advice."

He emphasised the point by tapping Colin's arm.

Now the plan had involved the two boys diverting one wizard each, and Jonny bursting in to re-divert them. Colin wondered if he couldn't improve on matters by removing Professor Tofty from the vicinity altogether.

"Oh, I'm sorry Sir!" he said, "Perhaps you need to go. I'm not saying you're past it, but I know from my grandad that . . ."

"Yes, indeed, I do need a pee," laughed the Professor.

"Shall I keep you company, Sir?"

"By all means, Colin."

They went to the nearest loo, passing the lurking Jonny on the way.

At the urinals, they stood next to each other, Colin being turned slightly in the direction of the old man.

Colin pulled out his penis, and commenced a medium-strength, medium-length gush.

The other pulled out his own dark, knotty, shrunken knob. Colin thought of the lifetime's action it must have seen.

"Well done, Colin!" said Professor Tofty, producing his own dribbly stream, "Very good indeed!"

He stretched a hand towards Colin's willy, saying: "For a bonus point . . .?"

"Please, Sir!" said Colin.

The Professor gently squeezed Colin's willy, shaking off the last few drops, then holding his hand still for a few seconds before lowering it to feel the ballsack.

Colin's penis twitched.

The sound of the door opening came, and the Professor casually withdrew his hand and gave his own willy a shaking.

They left as Jack Sloper approached the urinals.

Poor old Jack, thought Colin: whether Beating at Quidditch, walking out with his girlfriend, or going for a pee, he seemed to have the special knack of always being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

As they walked back to the hall: Professor Tofty said: "First-class, Colin; I haven't felt one of these for a long time. If you're ever in London, get in touch."

He handed Colin a card which gave his Muggle, Floo and Ministry addresses.

He held open the door for Colin, ushering him ahead, and making sure he moved in the right direction by laying a gnarled hand on his bum.

Jonny was there!

"Ah, Bothwell!" said Professor Marchbanks, "This, believe it or not, is Jonathan Neil, grandson of Michael Neil who asked him to come and present his respects."

They chatted about old Mr Neil for a few minutes, before Ray said they had to leave to go to Muggle Studies.

Goodbyes were said, and, as they hurried down the corridors, Colin said: "Well?"

"All okay!" said Ray.

They had an excellent excuse for being late: "Sorry we're late, Miss," said Ray, "We were detained by Professor Marchbanks and Professor Tofty."

"You're a year early," laughed Professor Burbage.

In the course of the lesson, Ray and Jonny were able to convey a whispered report to Colin.

Jonny had burst in with a loud "Professor Marchbanks!"

"I had plenty of time to steady myself before doing the spell," said Ray, "And so much time to spare that I did it a second time to be sure!"

Colin's was chuffed, and his mind was not totally on the lesson.

Professor Burbage must have enjoyed reading his answer handed in at the end:

The most popular Muggle writer of fiction is Dicking. His works include: Knickerless Nicholas, Little Spurt, Great Masturbations, Oliver's Wrist, Chris does Darroll, Farting Nuzzle-pit, Weak Arse, Hard Grinds, The Pimple on the Staff, Our Mutual Rear-end, A Tale of Two Quickies, The Old Curiosity Cock, The Comes, Brown Nobby Fudge, Done by the Son, The Dip-wick Capers, Bedding Nude, David's Chopper-Feel.

As they walked to lunch after the lesson, Colin had a feeling that he might have made one or two slips, but who cared? This was a wonderful day: he and his friends had done a bit of good for the wizarding community and he would soon have that heart-to-heart with Alexander.

X

During lunch, they brought Dennis and Sea Jay up to date.

Colin's guilt at deceiving two such worthy people as the old professors was assuaged by the knowledge that he had given Professor Tofty a treat.

He whispered the story to Dennis, who whispered back: "I wonder if that charity, Help the Aged, organizes these things?"

"They could call it Flash 'n' Feel Fun for Fossils," giggled Colin, and the two boys exploded.

"What's the joke?" asked Sea Jay.

"It's a brother thing," said Colin.

"And a great-grandfather thing," said Dennis, sending the pair into more fits.

Colin saw that Professor Tofty was watching them benevolently. He was probably wondering if Dennis was the brother of the boy who had been so kind to him.

Colin didn't want to stare, so shifted his focus to the others at the Gryffindor table.

Sea Jay and Jonny were whispering to each other; Ray was looking at Trinity Freeman on the Ravenclaw table; Hermione was vocally rehearsing some highlights from HOM for the afternoon exam; around her, the fifth-years were listening with the screwed-up faces of people desperately trying to commit facts to memory.

Dean Thomas glanced at Ginny: come to think of it, Colin had observed Dean and Ginny exchanging glances quite often over the past few days.

Interesting.

He looked round for Ginny's boyfriend, Michael Corner. He had moved from his usual place to sit with the sixth-years, next to Cho Chang.

Marietta Edgecombe, on Cho's other side, was looking despondent under her mask-like make-up—but then she always looked despondent these days.

Cho and Michael were talking, and making a lot of eye-contact.

Also interesting.

Dennis was following Colin's eyes.

"And then there was a sudden shift in alliances," he shouted, repeating a phrase that Hermione had just used.

"Try to keep up, Creevey Minor," said Ron, glancing at the Creeveys and then going pink—possibly recalling that Colin had wanked him off three Saturdays ago.

"I think you're right, Den" said Colin, "And I think it's a shift that will be good for all four people."

"Still . . . Michael . . . unexpected, Col."

"You never know with Love."

"Yeah . . . Danny always said that," said Dennis, flashing his eyes at the Gryffindor first-years, where Alexander Bell was sitting.

"Yeah, I think I'll have that chat now."

Colin went over and invited Alexander to have a bit of fresh air with him.

There had been rain showers, so they walked instead of sitting.

"Blimey, Alex! You seem to grow a bit every day," said Colin.

"Yeah, I'll soon be big enough to make you give me what I want; and you know what I do want, don't you?"

"Yeah," laughed Colin, "You want my sweet little cocky up your sweet little botty; and you know my view: we should wait until you can get the full pleasure out of it."

"But I would get pleasure out of it; we do everything else, and I get pleasure out of that."

"I said full pleasure."

"But there's the pleasure of knowing that you're getting pleasure out of me; that all you can think of is me; that you're completely happy."

"I don't believe that I would be happy, knowing that you were sacrificing yourself for my happiness."

"It's not a sacrifice; and it's only a little step; after all: you've squirted inside my sweet little mouthy-wouthy. Besides, there's another pleasure."

"What?"

"You know when you do a big poo, and it stretches your bumhole? It's a sort of nice feeling, and it would be even nicer knowing the stretching was going to go on and on, and change from second to second, and end up with your magic juices right inside me."

Colin laughed: "So my willy is a substitute for a vibrating, leaking turd!"

Alexander laughed too: "A vibrating, leaking, loving turd. And you like boys up you, so you must like that feeling too."

"Yeah, I love the feeling, just as you say," said Colin, "The fact remains that you're too nice and too young."

"Dennis was—is—nice and young, and you've been having his bum since he was nine."

"Dennis was having orgasms, as you know."

"Well promise me you'll think about it between now and Saturday."

"Besides, it's a bad time: do it together and then say goodbye for nine weeks. It's much better to wait till next term—you might be able to come by then, too."

"Irrelevant! Honest! Promise me you'll at least have a think."

"Okay."

"And promise me you'll at least give me a finger—I've never even had that."

"Okay, I promise; but don't assume it's the thin end of the wedge."

"No, I'm hoping you'll start with the thick end! Anyway, I'm walking on air! Give us a quick kiss before I go upstairs for my Games kit."

They slipped behind a tree and had a quick kiss-and-cuddle before Alexander ran off.

As Colin walked slowly towards Herbology, he decided he was making a Dragon out of a Doxy: Alexander would have his wish, which, after all, was Colin's wish too. The biggest problem was that irritating nine weeks gap. . . .

During the lesson, Sea Jay passed on the other years' comments on Professor Harrower's teaching performance: she really knew her stuff, and had expressed approval of Professor McGonagall's work to the two classes that she had taught so far: sixth-year Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, and second-year Ravenclaw and Slytherin.

"She seems to drive people hard," said Sea Jay, "But she's generous with her house points. And she gave McLaggen detention for being disrespectful to her."

"What a pity!" laughed Colin: Cormac McLaggen was one of Gryffindor's more self-important, unempathetic students.

X

Double Herbology was a quiet lesson: Professor Sprout lectured them for a bit; they did some pruning; the kind Professor let them walk about in the fresh air for five minutes; finally, they potted out some Winking Wallflowers.

During the potting-out phase, Colin, Jonny and Sea Jay found several occasions to visit Derek Rath's bench, press up against Derek and inspect his handiwork.

This was presumably to find out what not to do: Derek was bound for the Wizard Navy, and didn't have a single green finger.

Arithmancy was the usual nonsense.

Once, when enlivened by Butterbeer, Ray Kelly had given them a tirade on why Arithmancy was unique among philosophical subjects in its degree of falsity: false logic based upon false axioms. Colin wasn't convinced.

They couldn't get away quickly enough, but when they reached the common room, learned, to their alarm, that Harry Potter had taken another one of his funny turns during the Divination exam. Presumably, he was in the hospital wing, and presumably Ron, Hermione, Neville and Ginny were keeping him company.

They went down to dinner.

Still no sign of the missing five students.

Ray was full of the pleasures of meeting Professor Marchbanks.

"Not that we really needed all that pantomime," he said.

"What do you mean?" asked Colin.

"Well, if we'd just wanted to stop the Slytherins cheating, we could simply have tipped the Professors off. Ministry tests would've revealed all."

"Why didn't you tell us that before?"

"I wanted a long chat with Professor Marchbanks."

The others laughed.

"You manipulative little—" said Jonny, but was interrupted by the approach of Roger Davies, Head of Ravenclaw.

"Has anyone seen our Luna?" he asked.

"No," said Angelina, "but she's probably keeping Harry company in the hospital wing."

"Yes, I heard he'd gone off the rails again," said Roger.

He turned to leave, but Robbie Files, Head of Hufflepuff came over.

"Angelina," he said, "I think you ought to know: One of our kids, Kevin Whitby, was looking out a window and swears blind that he saw Professor Umbridge walking into the Forbidden Forest with Harry Potter and Hermione Granger."

"Good Lord!" said Angelina, checking that Umbridge was absent from the staff table. "When?"

"Half an hour ago."

The news spread down the table in whispers, apart from which there was a stunned silence: nobody could think of a reason for this fantastic occurrence.

"Do you believe Whitby?" asked Angelina.

"He's a sensible boy, and no-one's had a chance to Confund him."

"Excuse me," said Ray Kelly, "If you look at the Slytherin table, you'll see some gaps—including their Head of House; and they're looking as bewildered as we are."

Colin waved Adrian Pucey over.

"You missing some too?" said Adrian, "We're like you: we haven't got a clue."

Dinner ended with everyone bemused, but not alarmed.

"Let's go for a walk by the Forest, and look for them," said Colin to his brother.

They went down to the perimeter of the Forest, and walked along it, sometimes singing a snatch of a Gryffindor song, and stopping to listen.

They reached the gap in the Forest where the path led to the secret Slytherin Quidditch practice pitch.

Colin shushed his brother, and they tiptoed down the path.

The Confundus was still in force, so something was going on.

"You try first, Den" he said.

Colin had taught Dennis how to see through a Confundus, but this was Dennis's first go in the field.

Dennis waved his wand and said: "Yes!"

"Ssh!"

Colin did the Charm, and saw the continuation of the path.

He led his brother to the little hiding place which he and Alexander had discovered a month earlier.

The broomstick practice set-up had gone.

In the middle of the field was a cauldron.

Whatever was brewing was a slow potion, because the flame under it was very small.

Two Slytherin girls were sitting on the grass reading. They had a bucket with them.

One of the girls glanced at her watch.

Colin guessed that she was checking the time until the next stir or top-up.

"What is it Col?" asked Dennis.

"I don't know. Harry's not here, anyway."

They watched for a while, got bored, and walked back through the Forest.

"Might as well walk a bit further along the edge," said Colin.

But Dennis saw something in the opposite direction.

"Is that Michael Corner?" he said.

There was a figure sitting on one of the benches by the lake.

"Looks like him," said Colin, "And is he crying?"

"Let's go and comfort him," said Dennis.

"And let's make a lot of noise, so he's got time to dry his eyes."

So they walked over to Michael singing: Tell me, pretty Harry, are there any in your dorm like you?

Sure enough, Michael's face was a tear-free zone by the time the Creeveys reached him.

Michael was a mousey-haired fifth year, who was friendly with the Creeveys as they were all in Dumbledore's Army together.

They said their hellos, then Colin took charge:

"O.W.L.'s go well, Mike?"

"Yeah, fine thanks, Col."

"But things not going well with Ginny by the look of it."

"We've split—but don't tell anyone. Ginny didn't want Ron coming the big brother act on me and mucking up the O.W.L.'s for both of us; we'll let him learn gently."

"Ron wouldn't come at you for dumping her: he's so protective that he'd probably be glad that Ginny was single again.

"I don't think she'll stay single long."

"I don't think you will, either."

"What you mean?"

"Well you've got very friendly with Cho."

"Yeah."

There was silence for a bit, then Colin said: "Is it love?"

Michael looked as though he were about to give Colin a Mind your own, but thought better of it—both the Creeveys had kind hearts.

"Yeah," he croaked.

"No problem, then. Cho's single, isn't he?"

Michael laughed: "No problem: Ginny; Cho; gay: it's all a mess!"

"Why? Ginny looks happy enough. You can just say to Cho: 'I may, or may not be gay, but I'd like to go out with you. What about it?' "

"I can't. It's all confused inside my head."

"Tell us the history. There must be some: you've known Cho for five years."

"Yeah. I've always admired him, even though he's a pansy; and everyone else in Ravenclaw admires him: he's clever, friendly and good at Quidditch. And even when I learned Cedric Diggory was shagging the arse off him, I wasn't bothered.

"I was a late developer and didn't get the urge till fourth-year, and then it was all for girls. When I met Ginny at the Yule ball, I thought she was the one.

"But then Cedric got killed, and I felt such a lot of compassion for Cho. But around Christmas, I realised it wasn't just compassion, it was lust as well: red-hot lust. I don't mind telling you gay boys, you'll understand. I used to get . . . excited every time I saw him, and I was still going out with Ginny.

"But it was hopeless. He was a real mess: mourning for Cedric; longing for Harry Potter; feeling guilty about that."

"Anyway I decided to end it with Ginny. But, she finished it first: ironically because of Cho."

"But . . . had you told her about your feelings?" asked Colin.

"No, but Cho took missing that Snitch very badly—not very sportingly—and that upset me, so she ditched me for being unsporting."

"That is ironic!" said Colin, "Never mind: at least you've made the approach now."

"Not at all! He approached me. He saw I was all mixed up inside—O.W.L.'s didn't help—so he asked me to have a chat about it."

"That's great!" said Colin, "You have sympathy for each other, so that makes it easy for you to tell him you feel a lot more than sympathy for him. And, if you go out together, he can get all his feelings about Cedric and Harry off his chest. I foresee a great love affair."

"Yeah, but what about the physical side? Fantasy's okay, but, when it comes to reality, I might not be so keen. And he's so experienced while I've never had sex; never kissed a boy; never even kissed Ginny properly."

"Kiss me!" said Colin.

"And me!" said Dennis, speaking for the first time.

"Yeah," said Colin, "If you like it with us, it'll be a million times better with Cho, and you'll have the confidence to ask him out, knowing that you'll enjoy a real relationship. And even if you go straight in years to come, you'll still be two friends with precious memories."

"I don't know."

"Don't think about it. Just do it, and back out any time you feel uncomfortable."

"Can we make sure we're not seen?"

"Yeah, we'll go up the rise to the bushes. We won't be seen there, anyway, so you'll feel comfy, and I'll put on a couple of charms so if anyone does stumble on us, they won't see a thing."

"Alright, Colin."

They found a pleasant little nook in a bushy area, with a few rowan trees adding a romantic rustle in the evening breeze. The ground was suspiciously flat and there were a few cigarette ends and bits of blanket fluff about. Colin guessed that this spot had been used for many years by students seeking forbidden pleasures, and hoped that the spirit of all the past happiness would possess Michael.

There was a beautiful evening sun, but the ground was still damp.

Colin wasn't going to spook Michael by asking him to create a blanket, so it would have to be a standing-up kiss.

He stood face-to-face with Michael, and held both his hands. They were damp: wanker's hands, as Danny Jorrocks used to say.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Yeah," nodded Michael.

He wrapped his hands round the Michael's back and pulled the two of them close together.

"Close your eyes," he whispered, then touched his lips lightly against Michael's—as lightly as an angler drops his dry fly onto the surface of a stream.

He pressed harder and stroked Michael's back from top to bottom.

Colin pulled his lips away, saying: "We're too tense. We're friends. Show each other we're friends."

He hugged Michael more tightly, and kissed and stroked him as before.

This time, the boy stroked Colin's back too.

Keeping their lips together, Colin gently pushed his tongue just inside Michael's mouth, and let it rest there for a few seconds.

Then he pushed in further, and started sucking, swirling his tongue inside Michael's mouth.

Michael still felt tense, but seemed to be enjoying things, moving his own tongue across the surface of Colin's.

Colin had a stiffie and pressed his middle forwards. He encountered nothing because Michael was keeping his loins well back, leaning forward from the waist to reach Colin's mouth.

Continuing the kiss, Colin moved his hand from Michael's back and felt what was indeed a firm penis.

Michael jumped back, saying: "Hey! We said kissing!"

"I'm sorry, Michael," said Colin, "It seemed the right thing to do. I said back out any time you felt uncomfortable, and I'm sorry I did make you uncomfortable."

"That's alright," mumbled Michael.

"Anyway," said Colin, "You're a fabulous kisser"—You little liar, Creevey, he thought—"and your willy responds to boys' flesh. So you won't be embarrassed when you go out with Cho—but if he gives you a grope, try not to jump backward!"

"Sorry Colin," said Michael, "Nerves. Please go on. Grope me as much as you want. Anything."

"Come 'ere, then!" said Colin and resumed the kiss.

After a while, his hand found Michael's willy. It was still hard.

He groped his way inside Michael's underpants. The whole region was awash with pre-cum.

Michael stepped back again.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I'm all wet."

"Don't be ashamed, Michael," said Colin, "We're boys. This is what our bodies do, thank goodness!"

He knelt and pulled down Michael's pants. He wrapped his hands round the boy's penis. It felt good in his hand—Balanced, Danny called this sort of penis, meaning just right for hand, mouth, or bum; but also standing for: British average length—a nice cock every day.

Colin pulled the foreskin over the pretty, red-purple head. Then he wiggled it up and down a couple of times, using two out of the British five and three-quarters inches.

Despite his embarrassment, Michael was excited, and gave a groan, simultaneously shooting a fast-moving line of semen into Colin's face; then another; and another.

Michael would have moved away, but for Colin retaining his grip on the slippery shaft.

"I'm sorry, Colin, I didn't mean to . . ." Michael gasped, red-faced.

"Best thing that's happened all day!" said Colin.

Michael looked at him in amazement: "You mean, you actually—Oh!"

Dennis had knelt and, brushing his brother's hand away, had taken all of Michael's detumescing penis into his mouth, and was swallowing the dribbles with gusto.

Michael was lost for words: Dennis was busy down below, and Colin was wiping his face with a hand which he licked afterwards.

Colin rose to his feet and said: "Doctor Creevey's diagnosis is that you have a beautiful body which functions perfectly. You can go to Cho with confidence, and if he doesn't take you as his boyfriend, I'll show my arse in Flourish and Botts' window!"

Colin had the horn, but that could wait.

"Gentlemen, adjust you dress please, and me 'n' Dennis will show you how such occasions are concluded."

Michael pulled up his pants, and the Creeveys drew him into a warm, loving three-way hug.

They walked towards the castle.

"Thank you both," said Michael, "I knew it would be good, but . . ."

"Never been wanked off before?" asked Colin.

"No. No-one's even touched me there before."

"We should be thanking you for the privilege, then," said Colin, "Shall we, Den?"

The brothers chanted together: "Thank you for the privilege, Michael!"

Michael laughed.

"I like you when you're happy," said Dennis.

Michael blushed, and they walked on.

They parted with smiles at the Grand Staircase, and the brothers made their way to Gryffindor.

"That was unexpected, Col," said Dennis.

"Yeah, that's the second bit of good work today."

"The third, if you include Professor Tofty."

They giggled.

X

They entered the common room to find a strained atmosphere.

This evening should have been the start of the wind-down towards the holidays. N.E.W.T.'s and O.W.L.'s were over and, had the twins been still at Hogwarts, the Butterbeer would have been flowing. Even without the twins, one would have expected games, songs, pranks and laughter; but there was a strained, suspenseful atmosphere.

The five missing students were nowhere to be seen.

"What's happening?" shouted Colin.

There was a chorus to the effect that Angelina Johnson had gone to see Professor Harrower, and they were waiting for her return.

Colin and Dennis went to sit with their friends, and speculated about what might have happened; but no-one had a feasible, let alone likely explanation.

About a quarter of an hour later, the portrait hole opened and Angelina came in.

"Quiet! Quiet!" she shouted over the numerous interrogations.

"Right, listen!" she said, "The first thing I did was go to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey told me there were no in-patients, and no-one had been moved to St Mungo's; so that's good news.

"However, she told me that she had had to treat four Slytherins for the after-effects of a variety of Spells. She couldn't give me their names or details of the Spells because of patient confidentiality.

"I went to Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff to see if they knew anything. All I learned was that Luna Lovegood was still missing.

"I went to Umbridge's office. It was locked and there was no answer.

"Finally I went to Professor Harrower, who was very reassuring and told me she would shortly come down to address us; so more waiting."

There was a buzz of analysis as the house wondered what to make of it all.

They had to wait a few minutes before the portrait hole opened again and Professor Harrower entered, nimbly enough for her age.

She might have appeared antediluvian, but she was clearly still possessed of a full set of physical and mental faculties.

"Good evening, students!" she said and received a fairly cursory response.

"Don't be shy!" she said, "anyone wishing you a good evening deserves a cheerful and forthright answer. Good evening, students!"

This time she received an acceptable response.

"Good. Now prefects, I told you this lunchtime that end of term was no reason to let our standards slip. Nor, may I say, is the matter of five missing persons. First-, second- and third-years: it's long past your bedtimes, so up to your dormitories now, please. Goodnight, students!"

The young boys and girls chanted the most cheerful and forthright response they could muster in the circumstances.

There were aggrieved looks, but nobody dared to protest, and they filed quietly through the two doors.

The Professor continued, speaking to the house rump:

"Now: the first thing I have to tell you is that I am as baffled as the rest of you. Professor Flitwick and I have sent an owl to the Ministry to keep them informed.

"The second thing I have to say is that we should not worry unduly: Professor Umbridge is well able to look after herself."

There was some shuffling and shifting of limbs, which an interpreter of body language might have diagnosed as: We don't give a damn about Umbridge.

Professor Harrower laughed cheerfully: "Yes, I know she can be a bit of an old cow at times—"

There was a shimmer of astonishment.

"—but she desperately wants to make a go of her headship, and she'll move Heaven and Earth to make sure her students come to no harm.

"So all we can do is remain patient until the morning, when I'm sure we'll hear the whole story. Yes, Angelina?"

Angelina had raised a hand, and now asked: "Shouldn't we organise a search, Miss?"

"The professors and Mr Filch are currently searching the castle just in case."

"What about outside, Miss?"

"Outside is a huge area, Angelina, we cannot hope for success at night—Kenneth, dear, would you mind checking on the younger boys and award detentions to any not in bed—in their own bed, to be specific?"

"Yes Miss."

Poor old Dennis, thought Colin, he was sure to be a goner.

But, when Kenneth Towler returned, he reported: "Two first-years, Miss; listening at the door; but I heard some scuffling: boys running to the upstairs dorms."

"After tonight, prefects, please try to impose a bit more order on your younger charges. Do you agree?"

Angelina Johnson, Kenneth Towler, Gordon Twist and Carole Sutton said "Yes Miss."

Kenneth raised his hand.

"Yes, Kenneth?"

"In mitigation, Miss, we are two prefects short."

Professor Harrower smiled: "I'm sure by this time tomorrow, you'll have a full complement. Now it's getting late so let's all go for our sleep. Fourth-years: it so happens that I have you and Ravenclaw for first lesson tomorrow. I don't want to see any yawns. Goodnight, students!"

"Goodnight, Miss!"

The Professor slipped through the portrait hole and the students filed towards their dormitories.

Colin made to enter the second-years' dorm, but was stopped by a shout from Towler: "No you don't, Creevey! You can see your brother in the morning."

Colin ran up to the next floor and prepared to enter his dormitory.

Sea Jay and Jonny were waiting at the door.

"Got a better idea, Colin," said Sea Jay.

He led the other two further upwards.

Gordon Twist was on patrol, and Sea Jay told him: "You ain't seen us, Gordon."

"What's the idea, Christopher?" said the quiet prefect.

"Three empty beds; three of us; we'll know if they come back, and we'll wake the house, even if it means detention for yawning during Transfig."

"Good idea," said Twist, and added: "You aint 'eard me, Christopher."

Smiling he made his way down the stairs, calling: "All in order, Kenneth!"

The three boys entered Harry's dormitory.

"Hello?" said Seamus.

"Hello?" said Dean.

X

The two residents were sitting up in bed, talking to each other.

Sea Jay explained the mission.

"We'll wake up anyway if they get back," said Dean.

"They'll wake us up," said Seamus.

"But it's nice to have some company, isn't it Seamus?"

"Sure; and we'll wake up just the eight of us."

The guests had to pick beds.

"Fingers for Harry's," said Sea Jay.

Jonny had odd to the other two's even.

"Bingo!" he said.

"Hit or miss for Ron's," said Sea Jay.

"Miss," said Colin, and won, having three odd fingers to Sea Jay's four even ones."

Dean and Seamus watched these antics with amusement, but turned their eyes away as the other boys stripped.

As Colin went naked into the bathroom, he saw that Seamus was tense with the strain of not looking.

He wondered whether, in the presence of Dean, Seamus would make a foray for Colin's—or rather Ron's—bed. Then he noticed that Dean was also being careful not to look at the three naked boys. He wondered about Dean: Colin knew that he and Seamus had often been sucked by Harry during fag breaks. Did Dean do anything else? If he became involved with Ginny, would he stop doing whatever he was doing?

He shook his willy and passed Sea Jay and Jonny.

"Go to our beds and do what the Muggles call forensics," said Jonny "Umbridge if you find anything."

Colin understood the significance: bedding was changed on Mondays, so the fifth-years' beds were worthy of inspection; Umbridging was a popular, if simple, pastime which consisted of reciting: Hem, hem.

The lads went to their allotted beds; goodnights were said; curtains drawn; lights turned off.

Colin used Lumos! to illuminate the bed with his wand. He increased the power, and the colour changed through the rainbow from red through to violet and ultra-violet which showed cum-stains clearly.

There was a treasure trove.

"Hem, hem," he said, simultaneously with Jonathan.

There was no doubt about priority, and he padded over to Harry's bed.

The three lads gathered inside Harry's curtains.

"You can smell Harry's hair on the pillow!" said Jonny.

Sea Jay, and then Colin, savoured the productions of Harry's scalp glands.

"More light," whispered Jonny, "There may be some non-Potter hairs."

"They'll be ours," said Sea Jay.

"Oh, Yeah."

They went over to Ron's bed.

Ron had masturbated a few times during the week, mostly neatly, but manifest in the blobs of cum that had transferred from his hand to his pillow. But there was one glorious stain, where he had wanked directly onto the sheet: he had lain on his right side, and produced copious cum, most of which had gathered in one big, crusty mass that looked like a map of Ireland. One stroke—probably the first, Colin thought—had travelled, parallel to the sheet for the best part of a foot, before falling to leave a long peninsular stain reaching out from the main one.

They all had a sniff and a lick before Sea Jay whispered: "Anything from Neville, Sea Jay?"

"Not really. A bit from his feet."

They crept over to Neville's bed and smelled the bottom end of his sheet. Yes there was definitely a tinge of foot-odour, but that was all.

Back in Ron's bed, Colin thought about Ron's penis: he had wanked Ron off after the Quidditch final, encountering an astonishingly large member.

If Ron came back during the night, perhaps Colin would have the chance to manipulate the giant willy when it wasn't being squashed flat against his stomach by his clothes.

With this enticing thought, Colin fell asleep, only to awake with a jerk, after what seemed like a few seconds.

There had been a scream, and now there was the sound of a scuffle.

He had his wand out and turned up the main lamps.

"Dean!"

"Seamus!"

Colin saw Dean, Seamus and Jonny lying on the floor, their limbs intermingled in surprising complexity.

Colin and Jonny laughed; the other two still looked shocked.

"What's happening?"

Sea Jay was peeping through Neville's curtains.

"I wanted a piss," said Seamus.

"And me," said Dean.

"Aw, you poor old men!" laughed Jonny, "It aint a full bladder that gets us youngsters up; it's a stiff willy! I'm gonna give Mr Harris an extravagant shafting."

"Oh, you awful man!" Sea Jay camped up, "Stop him please, you three . . . No, I mean, join him!"

"Coming lads?" said Colin, as he and Jonny raced across the room and jumped on top of Neville's bed.

Seamus and Dean looked at each other for a fraction of a second.

Then Seamus spoiled it by saying: "I'm not gay."

The two fifth-years had their unneeded pees, and went back to bed.

Colin was actually too tired for sex. He got in at the foot of the bed, and ended the day as he had begun it: sucking some tasty teenage toes—in this case, Jonny's.

He was rocked to sleep by the gentle, loving pounding that Jonny was giving to his boyfriend.

X

Next morning, the wanderers had still not returned.

In the Great Hall, Umbridge was also absent, but the Slytherins were all at their table.

Dennis expressed disappointment that the three fourth-years had failed to capture Seamus and Dean as a double-act.

"Still, there's always next time!" he said cheerfully, and loudly.

Seamus and Dean pretended they hadn't heard.

Colin told his classmates about the Slytherin Cauldron, and they were as baffled as the Creeveys.

The famous lesson with Professor Harrower was not quite what they expected: she was competent, but not the pushy, full-steam-ahead kind of person that the earlier classes had reported, and which they had seen for themselves the previous evening. At times she left them to get on with things, and lost herself in what were apparently worried thoughts.

Unusually, Professor Flitwick was also sub-par.

At one point Ray Kelly summoned up the courage to ask: "Any news, Sir?"

"I expect an announcement will be made shortly."

"When, Sir?"

"Just get on with your work, Kelly."

Double DADA came. Umbridge was still absent, and the lesson consisted of reading that bloody Ministry textbook under the supervision of one of the shadowy Learning Support Assistants.

Lunch couldn't come soon enough.

As they strolled into the Great Hall, there was an excited buzz: somebody must have heard something!

Colin saw that people kept looking at the staff table, and guessed that Umbridge was back. He looked at Gryffindor table, hoping that Harry and gang had also returned, but no joy.

He looked for Umbridge and saw . . . Professor Dumbledore!

He closed his eyes tight, and opened them again: Professor Dumbledore!

He was sitting, quite casually, as if he'd never been away, talking with Professor Sprout.

They were smiling—laughing, even—whatever had happened, it couldn't be bad news.

The Headmaster waited until all the students had arrived, then stood up and spoke:

"Good afternoon to you all. My apologies for not addressing you at breakfast, due to pressing business. Please don't hurry away after you've eaten as I have some announcements."

No-one was going to run away. They were astounded at this sudden, and matter-of-fact, return; and three quarters of them were very happy.

The meal seemed to last for ever, but finally, the puddings had been dealt with, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet.

Never was an audience so attentive.

Professor Dumbledore addressed them:

"First some administrative notices: Educational Decrees numbered twenty-two to twenty-eight are cancelled."

Cheers.

"The Inquisitorial Squad is abolished."

Cheers and Laughter.

"Students who have had dealings with that organisation may apply to their Heads of Houses for restitution."

Excited mumblings.

Brave Colin Creevey rose to his feet, with his hand in the air.

The Headmaster smiled: "Yes, Colin?"

"Please, Sir. Is the ban on holding hands abolished too?"

"Ah, Mr Creevey has raised an interesting point—you may sit down, Colin. Of course you may hold hands, and I trust students to use their judgement as to suitable circumstances and frequencies, so as not to cause irritation or offence."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Now some staff notices: Professor McGonagall, you will be glad to hear, is making a good recovery in St Mungo's and will be with us again shortly."

Loud and prolonged cheering.

"In the meantime, Professor Harrower will continue to cover as Head of Transfiguration and Head of Gryffindor."

Silence.

"I have just delivered Professor Umbridge to our own hospital wing and she is expected to be fit enough to leave Hogwarts shortly."

An enormous cheer.

"I am glad that you are all so concerned with Professor Umbridge's health."

Laughter.

"Finally you may have noticed that some of our students are missing. Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Harry Potter, Ginevra Weasley, and Ronald Weasley were involved in a fight with Voldemort in the Ministry of Magic last night."

Uproar—followed by a sudden silence as people realised that some of their friends were probably dead.

"Our six students are safe and being held in our hospital wing: Miss Granger and Mr Weasley have some injuries that will take a few days to heal and the others are being held for observation."

Gasps of relief.

"There was one fatality in the fighting: I regret to have to tell you that Mr Sirius Black, godfather of Mr Potter, was killed."

More gasps and whispers: Sirius Black the murderer?

"I would ask you to show respect and sympathy for all six of our students. They have performed bravely and, as well from their wounds, are suffering from mental exhaustion. Mr Potter is also in mourning."

Professor Dumbledore glanced at the Slytherin table.

"During last night's struggle at the Ministry, a number of supporters of Voldemort were arrested and are currently in Azkaban. Some of these are related to students at Hogwarts. Their Head of House will be offering counselling. I would ask you to show respect and sympathy for these students as well."

There were some worried expressions on Slytherin faces.

X

Everyone was happy that afternoon.

Mrs Englishen-Latin had them doing a play with the Ravenclaws.

Professor Sprout demonstrated Juggling Geraniums, and those perpetual favourites, Zincensulphur Zinnias, whose loud bangs and bright flashes reminded them of the Weasley twins' fireworks.

"Like an orgasm!" said Derek Rath.

"Yes please!" said Colin.

At the end of the demonstration, Professor Sprout said: "Now, for homework, I want you to write a twenty inch essay on—"

She was interrupted by a chorus of Oh Miss! . . . It's nearly holidays! . . . Where's me Skiving Snackbox?

"What?" said the Professor, "Don't you want any homework?"

They all chorused No, Miss!, except for Ray, who said "Yes please, Miss," and was mildly scragged.

Professor Dumbledore was there again at dinner. The world was getting to be a little more normal.

Apart from some of the Slytherins, the students weren't all that interested in You-Know-Who: he had been defeated by six Hogwarts pupils, and he would be defeated again, as required, no doubt.

Far more important were concepts such as: no exams; little homework (Snape had set some, of course); Dumbledore back; holidays coming.

The longest day was near, and at these latitudes, it's possible to read outside until ten-thirty—not that reading was on many people's minds as they poured out into the warm evening air after dinner.

Dennis went looking for Mandy Brocklehurst, who had convinced herself that she had failed every O.W.L.

Sea Jay and Jonny had gone somewhere private, so they could talk about how much they loved each other.

It seemed a good moment to talk to Alexander.

Colin found him on the terrace, playing gobstones with some first- and second-year boys and girls.

He waited until Alexander's game was over, and detached him.

They walked towards the Forbidden Forest.

"Big day tomorrow," said Colin.

"Yeah, it's going to be wonderful, even if it's only a finger, because the finger of someone you love with every bit of you—every bit of them too—that's you, Colin—is holy, and it means more to me even than the taste of your cum, and—"

"Alex!" shouted Colin.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong; it's just that, if you still want, I'll try and put my manhood into your manhood."

"Oh, Colin!"

Alexander got Colin in a bear-hug, and smothered his face with wet kisses, ending up with his tongue as far inside Colin's mouth as he could manage.

"Steady on, Alex!" spluttered Colin, you heard what he said about causing irritation and offence."

"Yeah: and frequency: I haven't kissed you for days!"

Colin laughed: "When it's a first-year and a fourth-year kissing, even liberals would probably say it should be years, not days!"

"It is years!" laughed Alexander, triumphantly, "In less than a week it'll be a second-year and a fifth-year, and that makes all the difference to irritation and offence."

Colin laughed, and reflected, not for the first time that Alexander was much cleverer than him.

"Come on, bum-boy," he said, "I've got to check on something."

He led Alexander to the path into the Forest. They went as far as they could see, and stopped.

"Do you remember that Confundus Breakthrough Charm."

"Of course," whispered Alexander, and performed it.

The boy was clever!

Colin performed the Charm, and they crept to their spying station.

The cauldron was still there, bubbling under a very low flame.

Its two guardians this time were senior Slytherins—a boy and a girl.

They were lying front-to-front, the girl resting her head on the boy's chest. Each had a hand inside the other's robe. Both hands looked busy.

"I'm off!" said Alexander, remembering to whisper.

Colin followed.

When they got into the open, Alexander said: "Have you ever seen anything so revolting in your life?"

Colin laughed: "Now I know what causes you irritation and offence!"

"Well, it's not right," said Alexander "We gays don't wank each other off in public."

"No, never," said Colin, recalling the feeling of Ron Weasley's knob through his underpants as Colin had wanked him off in the middle of a large crowd, without anyone noticing—come to think of it, Alexander had been wanking Colin at the same time; Alexander was being selective in his arguments. And someone had noticed: Dean Thomas. And he had given Colin and Alexander a bum-fondle.

Interesting.

"But Alex," Colin said, "It wasn't really in public: only Slytherins can penetrate the Confundus, and they have a cauldron-minding rota, so that pair were completely safe. Also, think about it: people have to do what they were doing so beautiful little eleven-year-old boys can come to Hogwarts."

"I'd sooner watch snails breeding for eleven years than see girls having sex. What's in the cauldron, anyway?"

"I thought you might have some idea; no-one's come up with one yet."

"Well, it's a secret potion; it's being done by Slytherins; so it's probably Dark Arts. Are we going to sabotage it?"

"Yes, but I'm going to ask for advice first. I'm going to the hospital to see what Hermione thinks—if she's conscious."

Colin had been considering giving Alexander his longed-for rogering immediately; but combating Slytherin dirty work was more imperative.

They reached the castle and had a quick kiss and cuddle in an empty corridor before separating.

Madam Pomfrey was uncompromising: "No, no, no! I've just had to tell that Dean Thomas. My patients are under strong potioning. Even if I permitted you to see them, they wouldn't be able to talk rationally."

"Oh, Miss! Just five minutes!"

"No!"

"Four minutes, then!"

"No! Run along now; and don't go getting yourself petrified again."

Colin left, but not running.

At the end of the corridor, he turned and said: "One-and-a-half minutes, Miss, and that's my last offer!"

He received the expected response, and returned to Gryffindor.

X

The common room was in uproar.

Fred and George may have left, but Lee Jordan was doing his best.

He'd brought a pair of Nifflers up to the room, and the students were playing in teams of three. One member of the team had a rod from which a bit of string was connected to a brass curtain ring, painted bright gold. The player lowered the ring until the Niffler was tempted to jump up for it. At this point, his team-mates twirled a skipping rope underneath the Niffler.

With good teamwork and co-ordination, it was possible to get the Niffler to do quite a number of skips.

When one Niffler was exhausted, it was returned to its cage, and its mate brought out to play.

The merriment was at its height when the call went up from the prefects: First-years to bed!

There was a clamour of pleas, but all arguments—including it being end-of-term, one-and-a-half hours to sunset, etc.—were in vain.

The first-years left, and the party quietened down.

Lee gave his Nifflers a last Niffler-treat and took them to their concealed den.

The Creeveys went to sit down with their friends, Sea Jay and Jonathan.

Colin looked to see if Dean was lonely, but the girls had grabbed him.

They discussed the mysterious cauldron, and decided that Colin should try and see Hermione again on Saturday morning.

"Failing that, how about Adrian Pucey?" said Jonny, "They won't have let him into the secret, but we know he's a good wizard, and Alicia Spinet says he did a brilliant practical on Defence Against the Dark Arts."

So that was decided upon.

Gordon Twist came up to them saying in a loud voice: "Five minutes, Creevey Minor," and in a quieter voice: "Do me a favour, lads. Play it straight for one night, and I'll make a show of strictness so Towler stops suspecting me."

The lads murmured their okays, and Gordon added: "Towler was bad enough when Fred and George left, but Professor Harrower's made him power-mad, so stick to your own beds at least until midnight. I'll keep him at it and then, for the last few days, we can go wild!"

"Are you really sticking to the times, Gordon?" asked Sea Jay.

"Yeah: nine-thirty for you, mate; I know it's absurd, but the Prof is in charge of the house."

Gordon left, and Sea Jay said: "Jonny, sweetheart?"

"Yes, sugarkidney?"

"We've got a problem."

"We are we. You and me. There can't be a problem."

Sea Jay took hold of Jonny's hand, saying: "I do love you when you're being romantic; but then, I love you when you're not being romantic. Not a problem, then. But I'd still like to know: officially which is my bed and which is yours?"

Jonny laughed and said: "If we don't know, Towler doesn't know."

"But Professor Harrower will know!" said Dennis spookily.

At that point, Lee Jordan burst into song:

Did you hear about the Midnight Rambler?

They aint-a goin' to take no more

Did you hear about the Midnight Rambler?

Everyone in Gryffindor.

They don't give a hoot for Towler

Wrapped up in their dressing gown

Did you hear about the Midnight Prowler?

Gettin' ready to go to town

Eyes lit up. What a good idea!

Bedtimes were adhered to, and Colin, Sea Jay and Jonny were tucked up in separate beds by a quarter to ten.

Half an hour later, Ray Kelly and Stewart Appiah entered, laughing. They had been seeing their girlfriends in Ravenclaw.

"Did the prefects catch you?" asked Sea Jay.

"Yeah," said Ray, "Towler gave us detentions."

"And then Twist piped up," said Stewart, "He said missing bedtime and breaking curfew was serious, so instead we should report for punishment to Professor Harrower."

"Which Towler agreed to," said Ray.

"And, of course, you won't," said Jonny.

They all laughed.

"What's that smell in the common room?" asked Stewart.

"Niffler-shit," said Jonny, and explained the Niffler skipping game.

The latecomers were soon in bed.

"How the hell are we meant to get to sleep at this time?" said Ray, "It's still daylight!"

"I'm not going to try," said Colin, "At midnight, I'm off to Dennis's."

"While you're waiting, why not read us a story?" said Stewart.

Colin's bedtime readings of ghost stories to the first-years were famous by now.

"Good idea!" said Colin, and soon he was reading:

It is probable that everybody who is at all a constant dreamer has had at least one experience of an event or a sequence of circumstances which have come to his mind in sleep being subsequently realised in the material world.

Their providence was rewarded with a visit from the two prefects at half past eleven.

Goodnights were said, and Colin settled down to read for another half hour.

X

At ten past midnight, he finished a story and, with a cheerful goodnight, slipped out of the dormitory at the same time as Jonny was slipping into Sea Jay's bed.

He crept downwards, and had just reached the third-year landing when he heard someone descending from above.

Colin had his wand in his hand: if the movement was from Towler, he would stun him: enough was enough!

Then he thought: of course; it would be Seamus, his willy sticky and demanding after his snog-session with Lavender Brown. He started upwards, deciding to collect Seamus so that the three of them could go to Dennis's.

But the mystery-boy passed Colin's door and walked round a corner straight into Colin.

It was Lee Jordan.

Colin laughed: "What mischief are you up to, Lee?"

"I was looking for Dean. His bed's empty and so's Seamus's. They've probably gone outside for a breath of fresh air."

"You mean a smoke!"

"Yeah; and a rebellion: we can't let the Harrower-Towler faction go unchallenged. Anyway, I'm gonna join them. Coming?"

"No, I'm on my way to Dennis."

"Give him one from me!"

"You'll have to give me one to give him!"

They parted at Dennis's door. Colin mused about Lee: he was a great snogger of girls. On the other hand, he was tolerant of gay banter, though no hint of gay activity had been reported.

Using the Juvenile Charms which he'd just become proficient in, he entered Dennis's bedroom.

He crept through Dennis's curtains, invoked the Concealment Charm, and took off his pyjamas.

He could hear steady breathing. Dennis was asleep.

Colin got in beside him.

Dennis was in his pyjamas. Not like him to expect Colin to yield to the nugatory Towler.

Dennis had his back to Colin, but, as he often did, he turned in his sleep and threw an arm around his big brother.

Colin put his hand between Dennis's legs. Beneath the pyjamas—goodness, they were thick—real passion-killers—he felt Dennis's little willy stirring.

Colin was tired now, and settled down to sleep, pressing his lips gently against his brother's.

Dennis must be dreaming: he had twisted his mouth into a strange shape.

On the verge of sleep, Colin slipped his hand inside Dennis's pyjama-flap, and rested his tongue on Dennis's lower lip.

Then he was wide awake again: this willy was not Dennis's; neither was this mouth.

Colin smiled to himself with enjoyment: he was on a mystery tour. Whose body was he taking such liberties with? He would test himself.

He undid the boy's pyjama-cord and had a grope: a stiff willy the same size as Dennis's; balls bigger than Dennis's; no pubic hair.

His hand shifted to the rear: a bottom of the same size, but slightly flabbier than Dennis's, and more rounded: Colin thought it would turn out to be a real peach when he got to see it.

His finger found a tiny bumhole, and pressed inwards. It was very tight. Colin smiled to himself again: Apart from six years' pounding by Colin, Dennis's bumhole had accepted a number of big-boy's willies and a couple of real whoppers.

Colin sniffed his finger: nothing at all.

It was a small boy, then. Probably one of Dennis's dorm-mates. Colin hoped that it was Jimmy Peakes, the lower school's Mr Glamour, a boy who, though strictly one for the girls, was affectionate and physical with his male friends.

Colin stretched, and switched on the light.

Close! It was Chris Gillies, Jimmy's best friend.

The light had half-awakened Chris, but he gradually became aware of Colin and was suddenly fully awake, sitting up, and whispering: "Colin"

"Hiya Chris!"

The boy became aware of his open pyjamas, erect penis, twitching bumhole and tingling lips.

"You dirty old man!" he laughed, "You didn't even bother to wake me up."

Colin laughed too: "I thought you were Dennis. What are you doing in his bed?"

"When those prefects came over all heavy about every boy had to be in his own bed, then it was a matter of principle: we all changed round."

Colin laughed again: "Good for you! Now, if you'll just point out where Dennis is, I'll be on my way."

"Can I come in with you too, please?"

This time what Colin produced was more of a giggle than a laugh: the last time Chris Gillies had asked for Creevey-action, he had done so non-verbally by waving an erect penis in the brothers' faces.

"Yes," said Colin, "If it's okay with Dennis."

Chris got out of bed, and led Colin to another one, whispering: "This is really Kirkey's."

Colin drew back the curtain. The bed was empty.

"He's probably gone to mine," he whispered, "Come on."

Colin took Chris's hand and went back up two floors to his own dormitory.

In the doorway two figures were huddled together.

"Colin!" said Alexander, "I knocked, but no-one came. I couldn't wait till tomorrow and Euan came to keep me company, and he thought Dennis might be with you, and he and Euan could have a chat while you and me . . . had a chat too."

"Life's getting complicated again," laughed Colin, "Let's go and talk things over with Dennis!"

The four boys crept inside, and made their way to Colin's bed.

There was a Concealment Charm in operation. It was likely that Sea Jay and Jonny had got in with Dennis to await Colin's return.

He drew back the curtain and had his prediction confirmed . . . but, as well as Dennis, Sea Jay and Jonny, there was a strong smell of tobacco coming from a cigarette being shared by Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas.

"Room for nine?" asked Colin, laughingly.

People started saying hello to each other, but Colin said: "Ssh!"

Ray had stirred in his sleep, mumbling: "Who's there?"

Then he whispered: "I believe there's a free dorm upstairs."

The nine lads crept out of the room, intending to go up one flight to the place they all called Harry's Dorm.

But they froze at the door: someone was coming up the stairs.

Round the corner appeared the remaining three first years: Peter Jones, Paul Smith, and James Carter.

"We wondered where you were," said James.

"And we guessed you were with the Honeybottoms," said Peter Jones.

This was a nomenclature he had picked up from his Welsh boyfriend, Caerwen Morgan, who assured him that Welsh for honey bottom was ponghole male.

Everyone piled into Harry's dorm.

They all laughed when they heard how each Creevey had tried to get into bed with the other Creevey: Colin finding Chris Gillies, and Dennis finding Seamus and Dean.

"How did we miss each other, Den?" asked Colin.

"I set off at midnight rambling at twelve, but I heard someone moving, so I went and hid in the cubby-hole by Towler's dorm. There were lots of people walking about. When it was quiet I ran straight up to Colin's and found Harry's chums there."

"One of the people walking about was me!" said Colin, "And Lee Jordan. He was looking for you, Dean."

"I was looking for him," said Dean.

"Then why did you come to Colin's?" asked Dennis.

"I heard Seamus behind me and thought he might be going in here."

"I was just following Dean," said Seamus.

"Let's face it," said Jonathan Neil, "We're all here because we're celebrating. It's a wonderful day, and we're not having it spoiled by being sent to bed in the daytime."

There were cheers, which suddenly turned to silence as they heard the unmistakeable sound of somebody Charming their way in.

It was Lee Jordan.

"Oh there you are!" said Lee, seeing Dean, "I'm gonna take a boat out on the lake and wondered if you—and Seamus—wanted to come."

The two friends agreed, and made to leave at once—it was a hot night, so pyjamas were fine.

As they left, Lee warned everyone: "The stair lamps may be off, because Danny's lot are playing some game that involves wandering around starkers in the dark."

The four remaining boys in the third-year dormitory were still called Danny's lot, four months after the boy himself had left.

There was a stir of interest.

"Sounds like an interesting game," said Sea Jay.

The ten remaining boys decided to apply to join in.

The lamps were off, but Jonny Charmed them on, and there was a sound of scuttling.

They went downstairs, and Dennis showed off his prowess by Charming open the door.

One bed was smothered in pictures of Danny, but the other four held four peacefully recumbent boys.

"Looks like they're all asleep," said Sea Jay.

"Yeah, we'll leave them in peace," said Jonny.

Instantly, four boys sprang out of bed, and raced to greet the newcomers, their willies waving as they approached.

"What's the game? Can we play?" asked Jonny.

Big Barry Elliott said: "We've been playing Blind Man's Twister, but with a bigger crew, how about a game of Bumsie in the Dark? What d'yer think lads."

"Nice one," said David Ward, and the two other boys nodded.

"I like the name!" said Dennis, "How do you play it?"

"Well, first, obviously, you undress overall."

That was easily done, and soon fourteen willies were visible and being observed with interest.

"There's the first bit of pleasure," said Barry, "The next bit is we cruise about up and down the stairs, and in and out of the side-rooms, but not the common room for obvious reasons."

"Squared!" said Sea Jay, and everyone laughed: Barry had been alluding to the possibility of offending girls; Sea Jay to the possibility of being offended by girls.

"If two boys touch, the first to call Bum! becomes the Sniffer. The other is the Mooner and he presents his bum to be sniffed. The Sniffer guesses the identity of the Mooner, and the loser of the guess is out the game and returns to the dorm, calling out Loser! . . . Loser! . . . Loser! Touching live Sniffers or Mooners doesn't count. The winner of a Sniff waits a few seconds, then calls Cock! and he's back in play.

"Last man on the stairs wins. If anyone doesn't fancy sniffing bums, he can keep his nose a yard away, and he still has a chance with a lucky guess."

Colin drew Dennis and Chris near, and whispered: "Don't play the game. Go straight to the fifth-years' laundry room."

The lamps were turned off and the game started.

The three boys raced to the top floor and entered the laundry room. Colin Concealed, Silenced and Locked the room.

He told Dennis of what actually happened when he got into bed with Chris.

Dennis was most amused, and demanded a replay.

They laid a stack of sheets on the floor and the two boys demonstrated.

Dennis laughed his head off.

"Two thousand days!" he said, "Two thousand days you've been lying next to me and you mistook Chris for me—for ages!"

"But if I'd known it was you, Chris," said Colin, "I'd've done this."

He drew Chris into a long snog.

"Me, now!" said Dennis, and kissed Chris with equal ardour.

"It's weird," he said, "When I came to Hoggie, I was with Colin and Danny all the time, so I never really did anything with my own dorm."

"We were none of us keen," said Chris, "Especially if it meant doing things with Simon—I think we all felt that, if being queer meant having to go with Simon, then no thanks."

"I know what you mean, Gils," said Dennis, "Never mind. Give us another kiss."

As they kissed, Colin could see the two little stiffies pressing together. Chris had a slightly larger one: it looked as if he were at that utterly magical moment when he was beginning to turn from being a boy to being a man. Perhaps it had grown from three-and-a-half to four inches in the last few weeks. When he came back in September, it would probably be with pubic hair.

Colin moved to the other side and lay down. He kissed the side of Chris's neck, enjoying the smooth skin and listening to the sounds of the snogging.

His kisses moved downwards and lingered on each knobble of Chris's spine. Chris's skin had a distinct odour. Colin couldn't find words to describe it. The usual thing when you encountered a new smell was to say It's like . . . but there was no comparison he could make. It was simply a pleasant, wholesome smell—the smell of Chris.

He worked his way down to Chris's bottom.

As he kissed it all over, he thought, not for the first time, of how cruel Nature was to boys: smooth, shimmeringly beautiful, bums became—almost overnight, it seemed—despoiled wastelands. Twin bulging, globes, which seemed to demand a firm penis edging its way between them, became wobbly lard-bags. Even solid and beautifully-shaped adult bums, like Adrian Pucey's, had, as often as not, once been even more shaggable: tiny, tight and scrawny; insubstantial compared to the thirteen-year-old shoulders—scrawny or not—above them.

Of course, Colin liked rough, fat, hairy, spotty and sweaty bums; he and Danny had once spent a long time ogling a Muggle bricklayer; but there was nothing in the world to compare with the marvellous bum of a young teenage boy.

Colin rolled his face against the extra-marvellous bum of this particular teenage boy.

Smoother even than Dennis's.

He centred himself and pressed nose-first between the bumcheeks. Chris bleated—but probably not due to Colin: Dennis had moved lower down, and Colin could hear his tongue licking Chris's willy.

Colin sniffed deeply at Chris's bumhole. Then he pushed his nose hard against it—Goodness! It was so small, and so tight!—and smelled nothing—or rather smelled the generic Chris Gillies odour.

He repeated his explorations with his tongue.

Chris bleated again, and jerked. This time, it was clearly due to Colin's attentions: Chris liked getting his bumhole licked.

Colin sat up and replaced his tongue with his little finger.

He pressed it gently against the hole and pushed.

After some moments of resistance, Chris's anal sphincters relaxed and Colin had a finger inside.

He curled and uncurled his finger, and wiggled it side-to-side, up-and-down, and round-and-round.

"That okay, Chris?" he asked.

"Don't stop! Don't stop!" said Chris, urgently.

Colin stopped, but only to insert his big finger, which he used to stimulate Chris's rectum more deeply.

"Chris, fancy getting bummed?" he asked.

"Er . . ." said Chris, obviously worried about Colin's meaty penis.

"I mean by Dennis," Colin explained.

"Yeah, alright then."

Dennis was around in a trice. Colin hardly had time to move clear before Dennis, lying behind Chris in the spoons position, was positioning his willy against Chris's anus and pushing it slowly and irresistably inside.

Colin knelt with his willy near Chris's face.

"Fancy a suck?" he asked.

Damn! His willy was sticky and dripping with seminal fluid. He should have wiped it.

Chris, though, was game. He immediately raised his head and took the messy, purple tip into his mouth; plus another inch or so.

He sucked hard.

"Gently!" said Colin, "And keep your teeth clear."

He supported the boy' head with one hand, and held his willy with the other.

Dennis was jerking in and out. His energy caused Chris's head to nod against Colin's willy, and Colin's hand to rub Chris's willy.

It was a sublime arrangement: very romantic, and very sensuous.

Colin felt his insides turning to water, as Chris brought his tongue tentatively into play.

Denny started whimpering, and his whimpers soon turned to loud whoops, as he thumped Chris's bottom hard.

It was too much for Colin: shouting Look out! he released a spurt of semen into Chris's mouth; then a second, enormous spurt; then a number of lesser spurts.

He looked at Chris.

He was gulping and was obviously swallowing some juice, but most of it had leaked from his mouth and was dribbling down his chin.

Colin normally had two or three orgasms a day; but, tonight, he had not come for a long time, and Chris had reaped the benefit.

Dennis pulled himself out quickly, shouting: "That was so good, I must have squirted!"

Chris shifted to have a look at Dennis's willy, so clearly didn't want any more penis-rubbing.

Colin looked too, but there was nothing to see, and nothing tangible as the brothers took turns inserting a finger into Chris's rectum.

Despite this disappointment, exhilarated, Dennis shouted: "Gils you are the greatest!" and kissed his dorm-mate deeply and lovingly, so transferring some of Colin's fluids onto his own chin.

They arranged themselves in a three-way cuddle.

"Whatyer think, Chris?" asked Colin.

"Brilliant!"

"You did very well; and when you can come, it's ten times better."

"Do you think Simon Hibberd does that?" asked Chris.

"Who cares?" said Dennis.

They had a few more kisses, cuddles and gropes before leaving the laundry-room and joining the Bumsie in the Dark game.

With a bit of sharp practice, Dennis eliminated both Colin and Chris.

The two losers went down to the third-year dormitory and found some of the boys having a gentle game of Names Of while others had fallen asleep.

Colin and Chris joined the game, and had been playing for about ten minutes, when Colin said: "I wonder where Dennis is?"

Nick White, who was snuggled in on Colin's other side laughed: "We didn't tell you everything about Bumsie in the Dark: if he's a new player, the winner doesn't know he's the winner until some kind soul let's him know."

Colin laughed: "I'd better be a kind soul, then."

He went out of the room, turned the lamps on and called "Dennis!"

There was no answer, but going down a floor, he saw Dennis fast asleep outside his dormitory.

He went back inside.

Every one was tired. The party was breaking up, with the jamboree atmosphere encouraging some of the boys to set up interesting ad hoc sleeping arrangements.

Colin went up to Chris Gillies, and together they collected Dennis and staggered into Dennis's bed.

Colin kissed them goodnight.

They each had crusty bits on their chins.

X

Colin woke the next morning with lucky Chris Gillies receiving cuddles from each of the brothers.

He nudged Chris awake and, after a good-morning kiss, the brothers slipped across to Andrew Kirke's bed: the three boys had decided not to let the other boys know what had happened.

Dennis in particular, had said he wanted time to get his head round going with a boy in his own dorm. "Next term there may be a sudden shift in alliances," he said.

It was a late breakfast for most of the Gryffindor boys. There were many knowing glances and giggles: the first-years, especially, had their own things to get their heads round.

Colin imagined their thoughts: I smelled his bumhole last night . . . he's quite nice . . . I wonder if I smell like that.

Colin thought about how much Danny Jorrocks would have enjoyed playing Bumsie in the Dark.

But, then, Danny probably had all sorts of games to play with his Russian boys.

Colin wondered if all Russian boys were as sexy as Yuri. How many of them would he meet over the summer hols?

Colin left the breakfast table before his friends, and accidentally bumped into Adrian Pucey.

"Broom Shed, now, please," he muttered, and the two boys proceeded there separately and casually.

They had a quick kiss, then Colin said: "Adrian, you don't know anything about a cauldron that Slytherin boys and girls are working on, do you?"

Adrian smiled: "They're always working on something, and they never tell me."

"Well, it's protected by a Confundus. I can break through it, but some of my friends can't, so I want to learn how to let them in."

"Okay, Colin, get your wand out."

After thirty minutes' hard work, Colin had it.

Colin said: "Thanks a million Adrian. I've got to run, but I've just got time for you to wash down my breakfast if you want."

Adrian needed no persuading. In a trice, his willy was straining towards Colin, who, having licked the fingers of his right hand, knelt and took the first three inches in his mouth, leaving five inches of shaft to be gripped with Colin's left hand.

Colin knew that Adrian loved to have his bum fingered. He got first one finger, and then two inside, up to the knuckles. He then pressed his thumb against the magic spot halfway between the anus and the scrotum.

Meanwhile, he was working hard on Adrian's penis: working with lips and head in three dimensions, sometimes in sync, and sometimes not; rubbing the shaft up and down; occasionally breaking off from the rubbing to play with the balls.

He was working his right hand too: rotating the fingers; splaying them; pressing them down. And, all the time his thumb was pressing upwards.

And, when he felt that Adrian was coming, he sucked harder; wanked the shaft harder; made pinching movements with fingers and thumb of his right hand.

Adrian's first splat hit the roof of Colin's mouth; the second hit the back of his throat. He valiantly resisted the need to cough and continued working with mouth and both hands until Adrian was drained.

Colin swallowed some of Adrian's cum, dribbled some, and finally coughed some out.

"Colin!" panted Adrian, "You are now fully qualified in Confundus Transferred Invasion and Cocksucking!"

The two boys laughed merrily before departing, separately and casually, for the castle.

Colin joined Dennis and their friends in the common room to discuss their plan for the Slytherin cauldron.

They were interrupted by the arrival of Harry, Neville and Ginny.

There were cheers and congratulations. Everyone gave Harry their sympathy, then left him in peace. They were all intensely curious, but weren't going to press Harry; and it was soon clear that Neville and Ginny were going to remain tight-lipped about the fight in the Ministry.

Colin set off for the hospital wing.

Madam Pomfrey was more flexible this morning, and, after some persuasion, allowed Colin in for: Two minutes, only; and I mean that!

The first person he saw was Umbridge.

She was lying on her back, staring unfocusedly at the ceiling. Colin felt a twinge of pity, but forgot her when he saw Ron and Hermione lying in adjacent beds.

He grinned: one day Ron and Hermione would be lying in the same bed.

"Hi Colin!" said Hermione.

"Have a Chocolate Frog," said Ron.

"You'll become a real piggy-wiggy if you don't stop stuffing yourself, Ron," said Hermione.

"There probably better for me than ten gallons of Dr Ubbly's Oblivious Unction," said Ron, "And so's your cheerful smile, Colin."

"You both look well," said Colin, helping himself to a Frog.

"Yes, we're much better," said Hermione.

Colin tactfully avoided enquiring about the reasons the two Gryffindors were hospitalised.

"Professor Dumbledore said some of the death eaters had been arrested. Does that include Malfoy's father?"

"Yes," said Hermione, "And Crabbe's, and about eight others."

"Brilliant!" said Colin, "That's a real blow for Scumbag. It's sad about Sirius Black, though. Harry's being really brave about it."

"Yes Harry's been wonderful," said Hermione.

"I think you're all wonderful!" said Colin.

"Creevey, that's your lot!" came Madam Pomfrey's voice.

"Oh Miss! One minute more!"

He lowered his voice, and said: "This is actually a business visit."

He told them about the Slytherin secret cauldron.

Hermione was baffled: "It's not any potion I can think of."

"They couldn't be trying to poison all of Gryffindor, could they?" asked Colin.

"I wouldn't have thought so. There's the problem of administering it, apart from anything else. Why don't you go to the library and see if you can find something that helps?"

"Good idea. I'll do that."

Ron snorted: "I can guess what it is: end of term. I bet it's hooch for a celebration."

"Yes, that's the most likely explanation," said Hermione, visibly trying to look unsurprised at Ron's acuity.

"Whatever it is, I'll go down before the end of term and tip it out," said Colin.

"Don't do that! They may be able to reconstitute it with magic. It's better to Vanish it." said Hermione.

"Thanks for the tip."

Madam Pomfrey stumped up: "Now Creevey, do I have to literally feel your collar?"

"No, Miss. I'm off. See yer Hermione. See yer Ron."

He stopped at the door and called out: "Goodbye forever, Professor Umbridge!"

In the library, he spent an hour hunting through all the Potions books, seeking a likely hooch mixture.

He gave up in boredom. After all, he was going to destroy the potion anyway.

At lunch, everyone was as happy as ever, babbling away and telling jokes.

Ray said:

Long and thin,

I'm covered in skin.

Red in parts,

I go into tarts.

What am I?

"A willy!" chorused the boys, but the answer was Rhubarb.

Dean countered with:

A black skin,

Stiff within,

I aim for the hole

That eases the soul.

What am I?

"A nigger's nob!" they shouted, but the answer was A Hearse.

The only downer was that Professor Harrower had called another house meeting for eight-thirty.

There were a few uneasy glances. Had she learned about the previous night?

Such worries were forgotten as, on a beautiful afternoon they had a leisurely game of Chins.

Boys and girls regularly joined and left the game, but Colin was jubilant to see that Cho Chang and Michael Corner stayed away, the two of them sitting together and talking seriously.

There was a distant splash. Dennis and Mandy had been walking around the lake, and Colin thought that ominous: put Dennis and water close together and they were sure to meet.

He took the opportunity to brief Alexander: "I'll be up as soon as I can—ten o'clock if the restrictions are better—then we'll have a ghost story, followed by you-know-what; twelve o'clock if it's like last night."

"Colin?" said the boy.

"Yeah?"

"The other boys . . ."

"What about them?"

"They all want to watch."

"Well, I think, the first time, it's a private and precious and beautiful thing, and we should be alone. After that, let's see."

"Yes, you're right, of course! Do you really think it's a private and precious and beautiful thing? I do. Something just for me and you, darling Colin. I do love you, you know . . ."

Colin listened to Alexander's happy chatter for five minutes, then interrupted him, saying he wanted to see Dennis.

The boy skipped away, and Colin went to see what mischief his little brother had perpetrated.

Dennis met him half-way.

Predictably, he was dripping, and was going up to the dormitory to change.

"Look what I found when I was underwater!" he shouted.

He showed Colin a rust-coloured pebble, about the size and shape of a sugared almond; it had probably been rubbed smooth in a prehistoric ocean, buried under a mile of ice and concealed in the mud of an upland lake until being disturbed by a boisterous Creevey.

"Keep it, Den," said Colin, "It's probably good luck."

As the brothers parted, Colin remembered Dennis's dream about a pebble. Had he made a prophecy? Or had the dream signified his intention to seek a pebble? Cause and effect was difficult in the world of magic.

He linked up with Sea Jay and Jonny, and they had a quiet dinner and a quiet evening.

X

All of Gryffindor, except for Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, were packed into the common room, when, at eight-thirty precisely, Professor Harrower entered.

She was accompanied, amazingly, by Filch, pushing a tea-trolley.

"Boys and girls of Gryffindor," she said, "After two days, I have to tell you that I am extremely impressed with this House. It is probably too late to aspire to the House Cup, but there have been some excellent successes—including, of course, the Quidditch Cup, the Junior Broomstick Cup and the Tiddly-Winks Trophy.

"Gryffindor has an excellent ethos, and I regard it as a great privilege to have been selected to lead this great house."

There was a slight stir: people were wondering just how ill Professor McGonagall really was, and how long their great house was going to be led by the speaker.

"However, academically we are letting ourselves down," Professor Harrower continued, "As I remarked at our Thursday conference, things have got a little slack. In line with the latest Educational Thinking, I have decided that our weaknesses have one principal cause: not enough sleep.

"We have, as you know, improved our compliance with regard to bedtimes and curfew, though Kenneth tells me that he might have heard someone on the staircase last night."

There was a suppressed buzz of amusement: If Kenneth Towler had been as efficient as he thought he was, he could have caught a majority of the boys of Gryffindor on the staircase.

The Professor continued: "But bedtimes and curfews are not enough: students who go to bed in a condition of hyperactivity are unlikely to attain the early, restful sleep so essential to relax the muscles and achieve that mental power.

"A winding-down period before going to bed is essential, and I am delighted to say that Mr Filch, despite his duties to all four houses, has kindly agreed to deliver cocoa and biscuits ten minutes before each year-group's bed-time, which, of course starts now: first-years forward!"

The ten first year boys and girls dutifully, if unenthusiastically, queued to receive a mug of cocoa and three ginger nuts.

Apathy changed to interest when it turned out that both the cocoa and the biscuits were delicious.

Requests for seconds were refused by Filch.

"Quite right, Filch!" said the Professor, "Now, I'm leaving you prefects in charge. Goodnight, students!"

"Goodnight, Miss!" came deafeningly—not through feeling, but in order to quickly get rid of a person whom some people were already thinking of as The Old Bat."

Colin whispered to Dennis: "Don't drink it or eat them. I don't want to wind down. I want to be hyperactive tonight; and I want my little chaperon to be the same."

As the first-years trooped out in two columns, Colin gave Alexander a discreet thumbs-up.

The brothers agreed to meet in Dennis's dorm at midnight.

"We'll get some kip in, Den," said Colin, "I'll set my Wizard Alarm."

When their respective bedtimes arrived, each boy pocketed his biscuits, and poured his cocoa into one of the Aspidistra Accipiens Quisquam pot-plants that the Weasley twins had installed as an emergency sink for illicit potions.

After the late Friday night, Colin went to sleep immediately, but at midnight, woke up refreshed, horny, and bouncing with vim.

He went downstairs, and woke up Dennis, who was similarly pepped up.

They crept down to the first-years' dormitory, and slipped onto Alexander's bed.

Colin shook Alexander's shoulder.

The boy stirred slightly, but did not wake.

Colin shook harder . . . and harder.

Alexander was out of it.

"Go and try Euan," said Colin.

After a minute, Dennis was back.

"He's fast asleep, and so are the other three," he reported.

"Dammit, Dennis! The Old Bat's put Calming Potion, or something, in the cocoa, and ruined our sex-life," said Colin.

"I bet Towler told her what we've been doing," said Dennis.

"Yeah, he probably heard us last night, and was too frightened to tackle us."

"Yeah, the twins have left, Lee Jordan was on the lake, and Edward Carpenter wouldn't have been bothered. So Towler would have been on his own."

"Tonight it's just you and me, Den,"

"That makes it a Big Night Out!"

The brothers cuddled, then Colin said: "Let's just check yours, Den."

They went downstairs and found four deeply-sleeping second-years.

"Hey, Den," said Colin, "We can check whether Towler's in on it. If he's the only one awake, then he must have known what was in the cocoa and biscuits."

"But if he's awake, he'll see us."

"End of term: who cares?—No! We'll Stun him!"

The two boys laughed—almost hoping that Towler would be awake.

But it was not to be: after knocking on the seventh-years' door, they received no reply; after Charming their way in, they found three unwakeable sleepers.

Dennis laughed: "Technically speaking, Col, we could go downstairs, and you could shag Alexander while I shag Euan!"

"I'm okay, Den," said Colin, laughing, "Alexander gave me a definite go-ahead; but Euan just said he was interested in the idea."

"He'd still be interested if he woke up and I was shagging him!"

"Anyway, where are we going to sleep?"

They decided to sleep in Colin's bed, so that they could greet Sea Jay and Jonny when they woke.

Then Dennis had a brilliant idea: "Colin! We could sleep in Ron Weasley's!"

"Coo!" said Colin, breaching his brother's copyright in his excitement, "Dennis! We can sleep next to Harry Potter!"

They ran up the stairs; then Colin stopped.

"Dennis!" he said, "We've been assuming it's all Professor Harrower. Perhaps all the houses are being drugged to keep them quiet till the end of term."

"Oh, yeah. How can we tell? We haven't got Danny; we can't get in."

"Let's go and have a look round, anyway. We might run into someone."

"Yeah, Virion or Adrian might have decided to sleep in their own beds."

"Hufflepuff's our best bet, though."

So they went down to the common room, and through the portrait hole.

"You should be coming in, not going out!" said the Fat Lady.

"We're gonna shake it all about!" said Dennis.

They traversed the corridors, meeting no-one, and felt quite whacked by the time they sat down, leaning against the Hufflepuff barrel.

X

They sat for quite a time, but their patience was rewarded when a late returnee appeared.

They recognized him as Matthew Hinton, a blond, chunky Hufflepuff first-year, who was one of Danny's Jiggers.

They said hello, and Matthew commented: "Whatever brings you here at this time of night, I bet it's to do with sex!"

"Just this once, it's not!" laughed Colin, and told Matthew about the cocoa and biscuits.

"We wondered if it was just Gryffindor," said Colin, "or every house."

"I don't think it's Hufflepuff: Professor Sprout hasn't announced anything; but I'll go and check."

He went inside and was back within five minutes.

Laughingly, he told them: "Lots of people are asleep, but there are two dorms where there are boys who wouldn't be able to do what they're doing now in their sleep!"

"Why are you up and about so late, if it's not being too nosy?" asked Colin.

"No secret," said Matthew, "I was up in Ravenclaw helping to comfort Tintin. He's very upset. He was expecting to get a fabulous boyfriend, but it all fell through."

"Who was the boy?" asked Colin.

"He won't say," said Matthew, "He's not that girly!"

"Danny says he's very clever and very brave and very honest."

"He is," said Matthew, "He deserves a big butch boyfriend. Anyway, let's the three of us be off to Gryffindor for some hot action!"

Colin was quite willing to behave naughtily with Matthew, but was rather surprised.

"Matthew," he said, "I always thought you were one for the girls—including Tintin, of course."

"Yeah, but girls have bottoms, and so do boys; I enjoy sniffing boys' bottoms."

"And you want to sniff, ours," said Colin, "Of course you can!"

The two brothers lowered their pyjama bottoms.

Matthew laughed: "Ninnies! There's an entire house doped and out of it. We can have a slow, deep sniff at every bottom, and they'll never know. You two can do anything else you want, and they'll still never know."

Colin said, sternly: "Matthew that would be outrageously unethical, and taking advantage of our housemates, and a disgusting invasion of privacy, and it's difficult to decide where to begin."

"How are you numbered?" asked Matthew.

"Six, seven, one, two, three, four, five," said Colin.

"Perfect!" said Matthew, "We work our way up, ending up with Harry Potter."

"And we're going to sleep next to Harry, in Ron Weasley's bed!" said Dennis, "You can stay the night, Matthew—we won't rape you—unless you want."

"How is Ron?" asked Matthew.

"Fine, I saw him this morning," said Colin.

"Come on, then! My nose is screaming to be serviced!"

They walked smartly to Gryffindor.

"Password?" said the Fat Lady.

"Mimbulus mimbletonia!" whispered Dennis, so that Matthew couldn't hear.

The three boys rushed to the staircase, in great excitement.

The sixth-year dormitory set the pattern for the rest: they exposed the sleepers' middle regions and turned the sleepers on their sides. All three of them had a sniff at each bumhole, but, while Colin and Dennis played with the front bits, Matthew flew from bumhole to bumhole, like a bee gathering nectar, coming back for seconds . . . thirds . . . fourths . . .

The disappointing thing was that there were no erections. Depending on the type of sleep, stimulation of a sleeping boy's willy, will provoke some reaction: anything from a semi to a full stiffie with pelvic thrusting.

Colin got nothing more than a couple of feeble twitches.

This confirmed that the sleep was unnatural.

They moved on to the seventh-years, where the highlight was Lee Jordan, who had fallen asleep mid-wank: his left hand still held a revolting magazine with pictures of ladies showing their bits; His right hand clutched his limp penis.

Matthew spent some time looking at the magazine, and had to be frogmarched away to the first-years.

As they visited their own bedrooms, Colin and Dennis changed into their day clothes, as they might need to make a quick getaway from Harry's dormitory in the morning. En passant, Matthew had a good sniff at their bumholes, pronouncing Colin's odours as the best so far.

Then it was the fifth-years!

They did Neville, Seamus and Dean first.

Matthew spent as long with Seamus as he had with the ladies-magazine.

"That really is a ripe one!" he said.

Then it was the Holy Grail.

From one point of view Harry was a disappointment: Madam Pomfrey would never discharge an unclean student, and Harry had obviously used the hospital shower that morning. Smells were muted or non-existent.

On the other hand, they could explore his body from head to foot, and see how he had developed since they'd inspected his Polyjuice replica, six months previously.

The biggest change was that Harry had developed some downy pubic hair.

The brothers took some liberties with Harry that they had not taken with the other boys: they each had a little suck on his willy, a lick of his hole, and a kiss, during which they licked all over the inside of his mouth.

Then, reluctantly, they covered him up and retired to Ron's bed for the night.

The three boys stripped off, and Matthew was shown Ron's epic cum-stain.

Colin was very hard and very dripping.

"Why don't you wank on Ron's stain and make an interesting shape?" asked Dennis.

"You could wank over Harry Potter," said Matthew, "He's at anybody's mercy tonight."

The brothers gasped and looked at each other open-mouthed.

"What?" said Matthew.

"Merlin's beard!" said Colin, "We've been idiots! Idiots!"

"What?" said Matthew, again.

"Don't you see? Harry gets in a fight with Voldemort, and the next night, He's at anybody's mercy!"

"But no stranger can get into Hogwarts," said Matthew.

"What if they're already in, and have already drugged Harry?"

"What, your Professor Harrower? She must be ninety."

"She's sharp enough to make everyone drink that bloody cocoa."

"Then we must warn people."

"Time's running out. It's nearly two o'clock, and the sun'll be up in a couple of hours. We can't go running round looking for people or sending owls. We've got to guard Harry!"

Colin suddenly looked like the square-jawed hero of a Muggle thriller.

"Get dressed," he ordered, "We might have to do some chasing."

They got dressed, and Colin surrounded Ron's bed with every Concealment and Silencing Charm he could think of.

"Were going to Stun anyone who comes in, Dennis," said Colin, "But we've got to leave it till we're sure of hitting them. When I shout NOW! let it rip, but I'll try to give you a three, two, one count."

He crossed over and opened Harry's bed-curtains for visibility.

"Can you do stars, Matthew?" he asked.

"Yeah, pretty good ones."

"If we need a diversion, I'll shout STAR! Produce the best you can."

They opened Ron's curtains and sat on the bed, wands pointed towards the door.

The first enemy was Sleep, and they fought that off by singing and telling jokes.

Fortunately, they didn't have to wait long: a quarter of an hour later, they abruptly broke off their song as there came the creak of the door opening.

Someone came in, and turned the lamps up.

It was indeed Professor Harrower.

They had a first victory: she couldn't see them.

Then the second victory: she put her wand away.

She pulled a glass bottle from her pocket; then something shimmering.

Colin new it was a pair of scissors, and he knew what they were for.

She turned towards Harry's bed.

The Old Bat was further away than Colin would have liked, but he couldn't let her get nearer for fear that the spells might hit Harry.

She was walking slowly, but steadily, across the room.

"Three . . . two . . . one . . . Stupefy!"

"Stupefy!" came from Dennis.

Both spells hit, and Professor Harrower went down like a lumberjack's wet dream.

The three boys left Ron's bed and stood over the Professor.

Colin took her wand out of her pocket.

He felt slightly week-kneed.

"Er . . . what shall we do now?" he said.

"Get the Headmaster," said Dennis.

"He may not be here. And if he is, we need a password."

"Sound the alarm," said Matthew.

"That's no good. We might get Snape."

"Then we wait until morning, and report it to all the staff," said Matthew.

"And say: We stunned a teacher because she was trying to Polyjuice Harry Potter? Who'd believe us? The bottle and scissors could be anyone's. She's an authorised person, here on authorised business, like finding out which student drugged the cocoa and biscuits as an end-of-term jape."

"We're in the shit with no-one to turn to," said Dennis.

"Yeah!"

X

They remained frozen for a few seconds, then Colin bounced: "Got it! Professor Tofty! He's incorruptible. We can trust him, and I think he'll believe us."

He dived in his trunk and produced his bottle of Floo powder.

"Downstairs, chaps!"

They ran to the common room fire, and Colin threw in a pinch of the powder. He consulted Professor Tofty's card, knelt and pushed his head into the green flames, calling: Ashburn Place!

He was looking into a cosy book-lined sitting room.

Professor Tofty! he called; and again.

After a few repetitions, the great man appeared. He was in his dressing gown, and an ancient witch in matching dressing gown appeared behind him.

"Colin! Dear Boy!" he said, "How nice of you to call."

"Oh Professor, there's a problem here. Could you possibly pop up, please?"

"Of course, Colin. Gryffindor is it?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Stand clear, then."

Colin stood up.

After a minute, there was a green flash, and Professor Tofty stepped from the flames.

"I'm sorry to keep you," he said, "My wife wanted to prepare a flask of cocoa—what have I said?"

The three boys had burst into laughter.

"It's the cocoa, Sir," said Colin, and explained about the doped boys and the Polyjuice plot."

"Clever," said the Professor, "There are some Dark people at the Ministry these days, and to plant a witch who we know is, in modern parlance, dodgy, within a few hours of Professor McGonagall's incapacitation is a stroke of genius—especially as it was only a back-up in case the Ministry trap failed—which I'm glad to say it did."

"She was pretty clever too, Sir," said Colin, "If they'd Polyjuiced Harry, they could have got him expelled and out of the protection of Hogwarts."

"Precisely. And where is Professor Harrower now?"

"In the dorm, Sir. We stunned her."

"I'm impressed. The current Ministry syllabus has removed useful spells like that. I wonder if these wild stories about Dumbledore's Army have some truth in them?—No, don't answer that. The less I know the better. Now let's go up to the scene of the crime. Who are your friends, Colin?"

"Sorry, Sir. This is my brother Dennis, and this is Matthew Hinton from Hufflepuff."

"Ah," smiled the Professor, "Hufflepuff boys liked to visit other houses in my day too."

"What house were you in, Sir?"

"Ravenclaw! Now lead on, Creevey Major!"

They went up to the dormitory.

The Professor's first interest was in Harry Potter. He shook the boy's shoulder and raised one of his eyelids.

"A simple sleeping potion, I should say. About three hours left if she got the dose right."

Colin gave the Professor the bottle, the scissors, and the wand.

"Now. You. Matthew," said the Professor, "Practice is always useful. See if you can levitate Professor Harrower by four feet."

Matthew drew his wand, concentrated, and pronounced: Wingardium Leviosa!

He was successful, and the Professor was held in mid-air, with her robe and hair drooping down.

"Very Good! First year?"

"Yes Sir," said Matthew.

"Now; one finger can push her along. She is based in Professor McGonagall's office, I assume?"

"Yes Sir."

"Then push away, dear boys; and try not to bump her too much on the way."

As they manoeuvred the body down the stairs, the Professor asked: "Colin why did you summon me, rather than a teacher?"

Colin explained.

"Ah, lack of evidence," said the Professor, "The boot's on the other foot now: she will come round in her study and will have no proof that she's been stunned. And as for her missing wand, she's so old that people will think she's just mislaid it."

"I know some very sharp old people!" laughed Colin.

"Well said, dear boy! And that old person will know she's been rumbled, so she may decamp first thing in the morning—well, a bit later: excellent Stunning Spells, by the way. And, in any case, I will tip off the Ministry that there are allegations that a Head of House has been doping her students to keep them amenable. That will force an investigation, which even if it is rigged, will make her position here untenable, while it is in operation, and in the meantime, we hope Professor McGonagall will have returned."

When they reached Professor McGonagall's office, the Professor tried the handle.

"Locked. Matthew, can you unlock it?"

The boy shook his head.

"Dennis?"

Dennis stepped forward and successfully unlocked the door with Alohomora!

"Well done, Dennis!"

They seated the only mildly bumped Old Bat in Professor McGonagall's comfy chair.

"Now boys," said Professor Tofty, "One last thing. What have we forgotten?"

The boys thought; then Colin said: "A bonus point, Sir?"

"A very kind thought, Colin; but first: she had scissors to snip Potter's hair, and an empty flask in which to put it; what else must she have had?"

"Polyjuice!" shouted the boys.

"Yes!" said the Professor.

He drew his wand, concentrated, and pronounced: Accio Polyjuice!

A low cupboard door sprang open; a stack of books and folders spilled out; and a bottle flew into Professor Tofty's hand.

He opened the bottle and sniffed.

"Fresh."

"Er . . . Sir," said Colin, "Would it be possible for us to keep that? We've used it before, and always responsibly."

The Professor smiled and gave Colin the bottle, saying: "Completely illegal, but I trust you, dear boy, and since I intend to keep the wand which you won, it seems fair to offer you this as a consolation."

"Thank you, Sir . . . and now, how about that bonus point?"

"Are Dennis and Matthew willing?"

"Let's see: pants down and present willies!"

Dennis and Matthew complied and showed the Professor their little willies.

"Beautiful . . . Ah Colin, I see you have been having lustful thoughts today."

Colin had produced a visibly sticky penis.

The Professor reached out and let his hands do the rounds, playing with Matthew's, Dennis's and Colin's willies in turn. He weighed them, squeezed them, diddled the foreskins, felt the ballsacks, and cupped ballsack and willy together.

By the time he got to Colin for the fourth time, all three boys were stiff.

When the Professor pulled Colin's foreskin backwards and forwards, he twitched, and felt an urgent lust.

"Fully charged, Colin," said the Professor, and started wanking him in earnest, using the house-elves' grip—thumb and two fingers, ensuring that no elf should come into contact with their master's semen—or, in the Professor's case, probably to keep his hands unsullied and safe from an observant wife.

Colin wasn't counting, but afterwards he reckoned that it had taken about eight strokes before he shot his first long streak of cum into the fireplace, to be followed by several more.

He felt wonderful. Although this prolific emission had been meant for Alexander, the Professor had a beautiful touch, and it was a pleasure to have sex with such a kindly man.

"First-class, Colin!" said Professor Tofty, "An excellent performance! How I wish I could still do that with my own member!"

"Thank you, Sir," said Colin.

Dennis and Matthew were both wanking themselves, and Dennis's squeaks rose to fortissimo:

"Ooh! . . . Ooh! . . . Yeah! . . . Yeah! . . . YEAH! . . . Colin! . . . Colin! . . . I cummed! . . . I can squirt . . . Colin! . . . Look! . . . I've squirted!"

Colin bent down and looked at the minute blob of clear fluid sitting on Dennis's pee-hole.

"Well done, Den!" he said, touching his finger to the blob, and then licking it.

"Big boy! Big boy!" he added, and the brothers hugged each other.

"Well done indeed, Dennis," smiled the Professor, "Very good! Top-notch work! Not forgetting you, Matthew."

"Thank you, Sir," said Dennis.

"Thank you, Sir," said Matthew, "And well done, Dennis. Did you beat Peakes?"

Dennis's face lit up.

"Yes!" he said, proudly, "I'm the first one in the dorm!"

"The first success of many in your life, I'm sure, Dennis," said the Professor, "Now, sadly, I must leave you to catch up on your sleep."

"Thank you, Sir!" the boys chorused again.

Professor Tofty waved his wand, sending the dislodged paperwork back into the cupboard and slamming the door.

"Now, dear boys, I will take my leave."

"Before you go, Sir," said Colin, "We've got another problem that you may be able to help as with."

"I'll do my best, Colin, said the Professor.

Colin described the secret Slytherin potioneering that was taking place in the woods.

Professor Tofty frowned: "It sounds as though they are preparing to celebrate Luxolis," he said.

"What's that?" asked Colin.

"A festival of the sun. Herbs and flowers are brewed for three days. At twelve noon—that's one o'clock, as we now follow Muggle time—on the day of the Summer solstice—today—the sun reaches its highest point. The celebrants walk round the cauldron seven times deasil—that's the same direction as the sun—seven times the opposite way—widdershins—and seven times deasil again."

"What does that do?"

"Each person drinks a cupful of the potion. It is said to give the celebrants Power and Luck for twelve months. The effectiveness of the ritual has been disputed, but many old witches and wizards swear by it."

"It sounds good, but is it Dark Magic?"

"Not Dark Magic, but Old Magic; and Old Magic is more amenable to being used for Dark purposes than our newer spells."

"Well, even if it weren't Dark Magic, we wouldn't want Slytherins to be getting more Power and Luck than the rest of us. Is there anything we can do to stop it?"

The Professor laughed: "It's the easiest thing in the world: urinate in the cauldron, and the brew becomes harmless, if unpleasant."

"How much urine does it take?"

"How big is the cauldron?"

"Standard Size Two,"

"About two and a half pints should be sufficient," said the Professor, after a moment's calculation.

"We'll go and do that now!" said Colin.

"And I'm going home to catch up on my sleep. Goodbye, dear boys. Please call me any time you'd like a chat. I can offer you first grade cocoa—guaranteed free of Sleeping Potions," said the Professor.

They shook hands, and the Professor opened his snuffbox, threw a pinch of Floo powder onto Professor McGonagall's fire, called out: Ashburn Place! and vanished.

"Right!" said Colin, "Let's go and sort out that potion!"

"Er . . . Colin . . . two and a half pints," said Dennis.

"Oh yeah. We'll have to wait until we can wake up some more people."

"Let's go to Hufflepuff," said Matthew, "I'll be able to wake them up, no problem."

"Brilliant!" said Colin.

X

They walked back down the corridor and took the stairs to Hufflepuff basement.

Colin and Dennis waited at the door, and after ten minutes, Matthew appeared with about a dozen boys of varied ages.

"They're all gay, or part-time gay," said Matthew.

Introductions were made, where necessary, and they crept upstairs, through the hall. Colin led the way out of the front door.

As soon as they were out of earshot, the Hufflepuffs started jabbering, and Colin explained the situation.

Wayne Hopkins, a big, brown-haired fifth-year said: "When Matty woke me up, I was bursting for a pee, and told Matty I'd be with him in a second."

Matthew laughed, and said: "I had to drag him away from the bathroom! Wayne'll probably be good for two and a half pints on his own."

"Is Dean Thomas really going out with Ginny Weasley?" asked Gideon Buchanan—Goodness! He's a dish! thought Colin.

"We don't know," he said, thinking of the hearts Gideon was going to break in his lifetime. Gideon was one of the more prominent first-year gayboys.

"Well, he was walking with her in Lovers' Grove on Tuesday evening, when he should have been revising for Astronomy and Divination," said Wayne Hopkins.

"Could be, then," said Colin, mentally wishing the two of them luck.

"That'll be a nice surprise for Brother Ronnie, when he gets out of hospital," said Wayne.

There was some knowing laughter at this: the Hufflepuffs obviously knew about Ron's protectiveness.

"And a nice surprise for Ginny!" said Derek Rath, and the five first-years giggled.

Aye, aye! What do they know about Dean that I don't? thought Colin.

They reached the gap in the Forest, and Colin stopped them. He waved his wand and removed the Confundus, as Adrian had taught him.

"That's bloody good magic, Colin!" said Wayne.

"Danny Jorrocks taught me," said Colin. None of the Hufflepuffs were in the DA; and Colin didn't want Adrian's friendly contribution to be widely known.

At the mention of Danny, the first-years giggled again.

"Danny taught us too," said James Buckley, laying a hand on Lee Shepherd's bottom.

"Ssh!" said Colin, and led them single file further up the path.

He could see the cauldron, simmering above a magic fire and with a tarpaulin magically suspended over it, in case of rain.

"It's okay," he said, "They haven't left a guard. It's time to empty our bladders!"

He led the way. They stood around the cauldron in threes.

The first three were Colin, a big boy called Leon Wood, and Gideon Buchanan.

As well as a dishy face, Gideon had a dishy little willy: slinky, café au lait in hue, with a tiny, dark, mulberry-coloured button at the tip.

Colin liked Gideon's tiny jewel so much that he was semi-erect by the time that he'd finished peeing.

Gideon noticed, and while Dennis, Lee Shepherd and James Buckley were relieving themselves, sidled up to Colin and said: "You're a bit of all right, Colin. Are you still concentrating on your studies, or can I make improper approaches?"

"Not tonight, Gideon, but I won't forget you."

He had no time to say any more. At the top of the lake, an upland stream poured down in a cascade. For a moment, he had the impression that the stream had been diverted.

Then he saw that it was Wayne Hopkins having a pee.

Through the spectators he caught a glimpse of something that looked like a dangling cucumber.

The splashing stopped and Colin could see from the movement of Wayne's shoulders that he was having a lengthy shake-and-squeeze session.

"Coo!" said Dennis, and all the Hufflepuffs laughed at the astonishment on his face. They had seen Wayne's monster many times.

"Colin! Colin! Come and see!" called Dennis.

Colin went over and Wayne turned to display the huge lump of meat that he was rubbing with one hand.

He took the hand off, allowing the thing to dangle between his kegs.

"Merlin's beard, Wayne!" shouted Colin, "That must be ten inches!"

"Eleven, actually," said Wayne.

"And what's it like when you get the horn? It must be like Firenze's!"

"I have got the horn," chuckled Wayne, "It can't support its own weight. But it's hard. Feel."

He took two paces towards Colin, who reached out his hand and wrapped it around the shaft. It was, indeed, hard—though not as hard as Colin's early-morning horn, or Adam Watts's famously hard British Average.

He pulled the foreskin back revealing an aggressive-looking, acorn-shaped glans, as big as a large plum, and of about the same colour.

He lifted the thing to a forty-five degree angle, and supported it at the mid-point with one finger. The top half was self-supporting, and looked like a splendidly fat penis of normal length.

"Come and have a feel, Dennis," he said, and the two brothers had an enjoyable few moments.

Colin felt lower down: Wayne had a big pair of balls, but not surrealistically so, like his willy.

"Oh, that feels good, boys!" said Wayne, "Gonna wank us off?"

"Into the cauldron!" said Dennis.

Colin knelt and took Wayne's tip into his mouth. He had to open his jaws wide to achieve this. He covered the tip with saliva, and stood up.

Then Wayne positioned himself over the cauldron.

"You can have the tip, Den," said Colin.

"No you, Col. It's your spit.

The two brothers rubbed Wayne up and down with excellent synchronicity, and it wasn't long before Wayne groaned loudly.

Splat! Splat!

Two nice spurts landed in the cauldron.

Colin was bursting with lust and took out his own kit.

"Gideon!" he called "Do me a favour, please!"

Gideon almost tripped up in his eagerness, and wanked Colin off into the cauldron.

Colin, like Wayne, came quickly, and produced his own respectable spurts.

"Thanks, Gideon," he said, "Smooth hands and a lovely touch."

"Any time, Colin, and the oftener the better."

Colin saw that Dennis was still playing with Wayne's whopper, which had shrunk to about half its original size, and now looked unbelievably fat.

"Anyone left to pee?" he called.

"I've got a wee problem," said Jimmy Millar.

It wasn't really a wee problem: seven inches of skinny, marble-white erection.

Colin wondered whether all Hufflepuffs were well-endowed, and then remembered Derek Rath.

Of course, Colin and Dennis gladly gave their services again, though this time their hands touched, as Jimmy writhed about in a sexual heat.

On the other side of the cauldron, Derek Rath was crouched with his arms around the shoulders of two of the bigger Hufflepuffs. He was being wanked by a little Hufflepuff while being bummed industriously by Gideon.

It must have been a funny sight, thought Colin; but it was still a beautiful sight: boys having fun and harming Slytherin at the same time.

There were minor splashes from Jimmy and Derek.

Saturday night, thought Colin. Everyone hadn't done badly, considering they must have emptied their balls before visiting the cauldron.

"I've another wee problem," said Jimmy Millar.

This time he was right: his detumescing penis was refusing to wee.

"Niagara Falls!" shouted the big boy, Leon Wood.

"Drip! Drip! Drip!" shouted James Buckley.

"You're turning the shower on!" shouted Ian Berry.

At last Jimmy produced a trickle, which turned into a gush.

"All done?" asked Colin.

"Balls and bladders bare, SAH!" shouted Wayne, giving a Muggle military salute.

Happy and laughing they went back to the castle, Dennis plucking a daffodil from the terrace, on the way.

They said their goodnights, and the brothers went to Gryffindor, not caring in the least for Mrs Norris.

At Dennis's request, they stopped off at Colin's dormitory for Colin to get his camera.

"What on earth for, Den?" asked Colin.

"Work it out!"

Dennis led them back down to the seventh-years, and Colin burst out laughing. They were Muggle-born, and had once seen a very funny Muggle film where a daffodil was stuck up someone's bumhole.

This was what Dennis proceeded to do to Kenneth Towler: blankets down; pyjamas down; bum facing upwards; and a gallant daffodil standing upright.

Colin took a few flash photographs, and the boys went upstairs.

The desire for a lie-in ruled Ron's bed out, so they settled on the second-year dormitory, because it was the nearest. They stripped off and arranged themselves in a very intimate position on Dennis's bed. They were immediately fast asleep.

X

Colin surfaced at eleven o'clock. Dennis was lying cross-ways over his knees, and still sleeping deeply.

What an exciting Saturday, he thought: they'd ditched Slytherin's Luxolis, sorted out Professor Harrower, produced a cum from Dennis, and given pleasure to an old man.

Colin wondered whether Professor Tofty might enjoy watching a couple of boys going hard at it. He giggled as he thought of the embarrassment if the Professor got too excited and had a heart attack.

His giggling woke Dennis, and they chatted happily about the recent events.

Then Colin wanked Dennis off, and there came another tiny blob, which Colin licked off.

Chris Gillies poked his head through the curtain.

"Morning, sleepyheads!" he said,

"Gils! . . . Gils!" shouted Dennis "You've just missed my second come! I can squirt, Gils!"

Chris withdrew his head and they heard him shouting: "I say, you fellows! Dennis can squirt."

Colin thought of having another demo, but a higher priority made itself known.

"I'm hungry!" he said.

"Half an hour to Sunday dinner," said Dennis.

They got out of bed and dressed under the interested eyes of Chris Gillies, Raj Mallya and Andrew Kirke.

Colin found three ginger nuts in his pocket.

He laughed and said: "It's a gamble, Den: eat these and we either stave off hunger pangs or fall asleep and miss dinner altogether."

It wasn't a hard decision: Colin and Dennis Vanished their biscuits, drawing wows! from the spectators.

"Come on Den," said Colin, "Let's go and tell the others."

They found the fourth-years lounging on the lawn and told their tale.

They, in turn, told how lots of the boys had overslept and missed breakfast.

"I still feel a bit woozy," said Sea Jay.

"It must have been in the biscuits, then, darling," said Jonny, "You had one of mine remember?"

Sea Jay turned to the others, saying: "And then he complains I'm putting on weight!"

"Mentions, darling, not complains! I'll never complain about you!"

Stewart Appiah laughed and said: "You gays! Honestly! You're like an old married couple!"

That shut Jonny up.

Ray Kelly had been thinking.

"Any of you heard of the Placebo Effect?" he asked.

No-one had, so he explained: "Doctors give a patient a lump of coloured sugar and tell them that it's strong medication; and the patient gets better because he believes it's strong medication."

Jonny took the implication at once: "So the Slytherins might still get Power and Luck because they believe in the Potion."

"Precisely."

"Then we must let them know what they've actually been drinking."

"Precisely."

"We'll write them a note."

"No," said Colin, I want to see their faces!"

"Then we'll tell them!" said Dennis.

"No," said Ray, "Whoever tells them will face reprisals . . . unless he's already enemies with Slytherin."

There was a silence. Everyone was thinking of Harry Potter; but nobody would ask him to do anything—especially something with a strong element of humour—when he'd just lost Sirius Black.

Colin suddenly shouted: "Lee Jordan! He and the Slytherins hate each other already, and he's leaving anyway."

They dashed off, shouting: Lee! . . . Lee!

X

Colin was delighted to see Professor Dumbledore, and even more delighted at his address:

"Before we enjoy our delicious dinner, I have some announcements which shouldn't take too long.

"Firstly, and sadly, I have to tell you that our acting Professor of Transfiguration and Head of Gryffindor has been dismissed."

Colin was jubilant. Good old Tofty! He'd tipped off the Headmaster, as well as the Ministry. Good old Dumbledore! He was back in command, and he wasn't going to bother with evidence and investigations: Gordon's Knot had been Vanished!

"I regret," continued the Headmaster, "that, eager to impress the Ministry with the good order of her house, she resorted to drugging her charges.

"Some of the Professors expressed their concern that students in other houses had also been drugged, but fortunately, it turns out that lethargy and oversleeping have been due to normal—I mean quite improper—end-of-term celebrations.

"Tomorrow the first Transfiguration lesson will be replaced by a study period for the seventh-years concerned.

"All other Transfiguration students please report to Professor Hagrid, who I am pleased to say has returned and is eager to take up the reins again.

"Recent events have shown that we must take extreme precautions when Dark Forces are active. Regretfully then, I have to tell you that new Spells are in force in each house and, from now until the end of term, no student will be able to enter any dormitory save his own."

Colin was disappointed. And he was not the only one: you could almost hear the rustle of underpants as dozens of willies detumesced.

"No Sex please, we're skittish," murmured Jonathan Neil.

"One final point," continued the Professor, "Please be extra-careful about litter, as our esteemed caretaker, Mr Filch has overslept. He is expected to wake up in the next two or three days. Now, let us all enjoy the last Sunday dinner of the term!"

Colin was ravenous, and so were the other Gryffindors who had missed breakfast. But the Slytherins ate even more quickly, and started leaving the table while the Gryffindors were enjoying seconds on the main course.

There was much giggling as the Gryffindors imagined the furtive approach to the cauldron. And then . . .

After dinner they wandered about the lawn until, at one-thirty, Slytherins started appearing from the direction of the Forbidden Forest.

The Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs (who Colin had tipped off) sat down on the lawn along the Slytherins' path.

The first Slytherins, led by House Captain, Graham Montague, approached.

The lead player stood up.

"My dear Montague!" shouted Lee Jordan, "Was it tasty?"

"Don't talk gibberish, Jordan," snapped Montague.

"I was talking about your Luxolis" said Lee, "Was it tasty?"

There were stirs of alarm among the Slytherin ranks.

"I don't know what you're talking about, you moron!"

"Luxolis my arse!" laughed Lee, "More like Looks All Piss, I should say.

"Er . . ." said Montague.

"Don't worry, Montague," Lee continued, "I can ensure you, it wasn't All Piss: there was a sizeable helping of delicious, fresh Semen. Perhaps it should be called Looks Tadpolish."

There were shrieks from the Slytherin girls; some of them appeared on the verge of fainting. Some of the boys looked like puking.

"Inside everyone! NOW!" bawled Montague.

"At least we didn't crap in it," Lee shouted to his retreating back, "Well, no-one's owning up, anyway!"

Those in the know were choking with laughter. Between fits, they enlightened those who weren't yet in the know.

By Sunday tea most people were aware that Lee Jordan had led a gang of fifty boys to defile a Dark Potion that the Slytherins had been secretly brewing.

The Slytherins looked unhappy, but ate heartily, many of them having, with or without emetics, vomited up their Sunday dinner, together with Jordan's noxious potion.

"Reverse placebo," said Ray, "They'll probably have no Power and Luck for the next twelve months because they believe all the pee and cum is destructive, whereas it's just revolting."

On this cheerful note, they retired to the lawn to relax in the golden evening sun.

They were disturbed by a shout: "LETS R-O-O-O-O-O-O-CK!", and amazed to see that it came from Roger Davies, super-efficient House Captain, and his quiet, posh Ravenclaw colleague Virion White.

X

Wizards and witches are good musicians: control of hands, mouths, breathing and thought are essential to both music and wizardry.

But magic folk don't actually go in very much for learning musical instruments. Why bother, when the instruments can be bewitched to play themselves? Music can even be magicked up without any instruments at all.

Muggles are beginning to go the same way: in the form of electronic equipment, they have invented their own magic.

Magic folk still love a good sing-song and knees-up, of course.

And one other type of live music has retained its popularity with the young and not-so-young of wizardkind: Rock and Roll.

The reasons are not hard to find: pretty young men, demonstrating their athleticism by energetically prancing around; thrusting their loins in a parody of sexual activity; jerking their hands in front of their crotches as though masturbating, rather than playing a guitar.

And, of course, the whiff of revolt—something lost to the Muggles, where any form of music is fair game as a background to shopping, cinema, television, driving, sport, walking, working, eating, drinking and, of course, lifts.

Older wizards and witches give verbal homage to the idea that Rock and Roll presages the End of Civilisation, but they know that, really, it's as bland as a stoat sandwich without the stoat.

Hogwarts reflects this in miniature: the professors tut-tut, but still give the go-ahead for rock bands to be formed every so often.

So when two senior boys approached Professor Dumbledore for permission to form a rock-group for the last few days of term, he readily consented.

"They can have the Old Theatre, and please try and persuade them to keep the noise down, Roger," said the Professor.

"Yes, Sir."

What Dumbledore did not know was that the confidence-inspiring and trustworthy Roger Davies was a kind-hearted front man for a rock band that would comprise about thirty gay, gayish, gay-curious, or gay-friendly boys who wished to celebrate Adam Watts's stag night.

"Thanks Roger!" said Adam.

Roger said, in a most Head-Boy-of-Ravenclawish way: "A pleasure, Watts; but remember: you're on Wizard's Honour."

Roger had agreed to support the enterprise on the basis that there would be No Orgasms!

Professor Dumbledore imposed no such condition directly, but more-or-less ensured it by magically restricting access to the Old Theatre to the evening—from seven o'clock until a quarter to nine.

This was a blow: yes, they wanted Adam to have a stag night—and they wanted to say goodbye to Adrian Pucey, come to that—but many of the gayboys, looking for a final blast of Sex and Love before the hols, had looked forward to using the rock band's room as an overnight haven for boys who couldn't get into each other's dormitories.

There was going to be a big increase in solitary masturbation for the rest of the term.

Colin and Alexander agreed to postpone the Big One until next term: they didn't want such a wondrous event to be performed in a hole-and-corner fashion.

There was plenty of subsidiary hole-and-corner action, though: the two boys were at it all the time, wherever they could find a bit of privacy: whispering, snogging, petting, sucking and, in Colin's case, coming.

In the evenings, Colin played with the band.

He was a flautist with the occasional school orchestra, but drumming with the band was much more fun. Colin was a quiet boy, though assertive when he had to be; but banging the drums hard, keeping to the complicated cross-rhythms, interplaying with the guitarists gave him a new, loud, extrovert persona.

When he arrived in the common room, exhausted and dripping with sweat, Sea Jay and Jonathan couldn't wait to get him upstairs and enjoy his slippery body.

Professor Dumbledore hadn't put a stop to that.

In between band sessions, and not-too-demanding classes, Colin joined in the preparations for the celebrations.

Things were going well, but there was one complication: James Poxon, as one of the grooms, thought that he'd like a stag night too. But most of his friends were Adam's friends, and the gayer element was already booked for Adam's do.

Mandy Brocklehurst came up with the solution: a hen night.

Now James was not in the least effeminate, but two members of his house were, and, after discussing things with Tintin and Cho, James agreed to drag himself up for the night.

The Ravenclaw girls exerted themselves and produced a suitably glamorous frock, but then there arose another complication: Michael Corner, as Cho's new boyfriend, wanted to partner Cho.

It took some persuading, but Michael finally agreed to attend as a girl.

There were some surprises: eight boys—mostly straight—from the other houses expressed an interest and were quickly accepted and kitted up.

Amazingly, Gonzalo Harper, a fourth-year Slytherin was among their number.

End of term was proving extremely enjoyable.

X

The great day came—or rather the great night, the penultimate night of the school year.

All the boys assembled at seven o'clock in the Old Theatre.

They were greeted by Andrew Merryweather, who offered newcomers a small glass of very-diluted Hufflepuff punch. The aim was to elevate boys to a state of cosy warmth, without relaxing inhibitions to the point that the affair became orgiastic.

When everyone had arrived, Colin played a roll and the band went into a loud version of the wedding march by the Muggle Mendelssohn.

Roger Davies, as Head of House, was master of ceremonies. He was very proud that his house had nurtured the pioneering happy couple. Perhaps he also had in mind that his presence might reinforce the No Orgasms! rule.

"On behalf of Adam, welcome. On behalf of me, thank you, Adam," was his opening address.

The band opened with the archetypal anthem of unhappy youth; or in this case of happy gayboys:

People try to put us down (Talkin' 'bout my fornication)

Just because we get around (Talkin' 'bout my fornication)

Don't like how we use our poles (Talkin' 'bout my fornication)

Always shaftin' teenage holes (Talkin' 'bout my fornication)

This is my fornication

This is my fornication, baby

People why not take your taxis (Talkin' 'bout my fornication)

Leave us huntin' brand-new jacksies (Talkin' 'bout my fornication)

I'm not tryin' to cause a big sensation (Talkin' 'bout my fornication)

I'm just talkin' 'bout my fornication (Talkin' 'bout my fornication)

This is my fornication

This is my fornication, baby

The song got the boys up and dancing.

They were on their feet, bopping about, doing their own dance; no-one was judging them, and they were utterly free of worry.

The evening continued in the same vein: fast, loud music; occasional visits to the bar where Andrew Merryweather rationed the boys rigorously; swapping partners.

Swapping partners meant, in most cases, changing the boy you were facing, but some boys devised their own co-ordinated routines and facing each other, or in line, jumped, waved and kicked in unison. Other boys were dancing in a circle, bouncing their happiness off each other.

Nobody was shy. There were wallflowers, but these were people puffed out with dancing, or taking the opportunity to chat up other boys.

Roger Davies was not dancing, but had his wand out, generating flashing lights and special effects. Hordes of little coloured stars and flashing spheres swirled around the room, reacting to the ceiling as it changed colours, flashed and strobed.

Dennis was dancing with Sea Jay and Jonathan. He was bouncing and waving his arms about as he did during the normal school day.

Colin's little Alexander was dancing in the biggest circle—with his four dorm-mates and Caerwen Morgan.

Just occasionally, a pair or more of boys cuddled, dancing closely together—or rather, rubbing themselves in time to the music. If he judged that things were likely to break No Orgasms! some of Roger's spheres would zoom between the boys, acquire substance and push them apart.

The allotted time was short, and Adam had decreed a wind-down before they all returned to their houses.

The band cleared the stage, which now had on it a single chair under a golden romantic light.

Adrian Pucey climbed up and sat on the chair.

Dennis Creevey followed and sat on Adrian's knee.

Accompanied by a soft, invisible orchestra, Adrian began to sing:

Each time I see a little boy

Of thirteen, twelve, eleven

My heart leaps up with urgent joy,

I smile, and say:

Thank heaven for little boys,

For little boys need

Bumming every day.

Thank heaven for little boys

They bend down in

The most delightful way.

Those little holes

So tiny and appealing

Will make you come

Inside the bum

Until you're squealing.

Thank heaven for little boys,

Thank heaven for them all

No matter where,

No matter who.

Without them

What would bigger boys do?

To quiet approval, the two boys kissed affectionately.

Then they swapped places. There were some laughs, but to Colin, the sight of the tall Adrian, sitting on Dennis's knee was more sweet and romantic than amusing.

Dennis sang, in his pure treble:

Thank heaven for little boys,

For little boys get

Bigger every day.

Thank heaven for little boys

They grow up in

The most delightful way.

Those little knobs

Enticing to your gayness

One day will burst

And do their worst

Inside your anus.

Thank heaven for little boys,

Thank heaven for them all

No matter where,

No matter who.

Without them

What would bigger boys do?

Then they kissed again. It was innocent and heartwarming, though Dennis could not resist exceeding his brief with a little fondle under Adrian's robe.

The boys ended with a duet:

Thank heaven,

Thank heaven,

Thank heaven for little boys.

There were loud cheers, and calls for an encore, but time was pressing, so Adam and Adrian gave the closing speeches.

"Thank you for coming," said Adam.

"Thank you for coming," said Adrian.

People were disconsolately glancing at the door when Roger Davies leapt onto the stage.

"Just one last thing," he said, "It's customary on stag nights for some sort of prank to be inflicted on the groom-to-be."

"Bugger off!" said Adam, "I refuse to be Charmed blue and Bodybinded to a lamp-post! Anyway, time's up!"

Roger said: "Professor Dumbledore agreed a fifteen-minute extension when we explained that we wanted to give you a surprise—though we didn't explain the nature of the surprise. Don't worry: it's just a memory test.

"When you're hitched, Adam, it'll be one orifice for you, but, in the past, you've been quite an orifice-predator.

"Now we're all going to learn whether you cared enough about these orifices to really get to know them."

Roger seated Adam on the chair and, with a wave of his wand, summoned a second chair, which looked like an instrument of torture. This trundled in on wheels from the wings.

Roger blindfolded Adam, and the purpose of the layout became clear when little Peter Jones leapt up, ditched his underpants, climbed on the chair, and placed his feet in a pair of high, wide stirrups.

Roger manoeuvred the chair so that Peter's bumhole was by Adam's nose.

"Adam Watts," he said, "Using only your nose and mouth, you have thirty seconds to identify your shagee."

The audience had a side-on view, so there wasn't much to see. The straight-laced Roger was observing the proprieties.

Adam sniffed and licked for a bit, then emerged, saying: "Is it Dennis?"

The audience were in fits by the time Roger removed the blindfold.

"Oh! Sorry, Peter and Dennis," said Adam.

The blindfold was replaced, and Adam successfully identified Derek Rath.

He misguessed, David Ward as Jonathan Neil, but then succeeded with Colin and the real Jonathan.

The next candidate appeared from the wings: he was. . . Adam Watts!

Colin was sure that this use of Polyjuice would have been accepted as responsible by Professor Tofty.

For the first time, Adam was flummoxed.

"There's no smell at all," he said.

"Apart from that, what sort of boy do you think would own this?" asked Roger, "Have another go."

"Boy of about the same age as me," said Adam, "Used, but still tight; just a touch of hair. You didn't bring Danny back, did you, Roger?"

"No, try again."

"It's a Muggle! It's that boy I met in the toilet at Portsmouth Harbour station."

Roger put Adam out of his misery, and removed the blindfold.

"Bloody hell!" said Adam, and gave himself a quick grope.

"Go and do yourself," shouted James Buckley; or something similar.

The blindfold was put on and Adam returned to his winning ways: "Dennis! How could I have mistaken you!"

Then, in a second magnificent twist, Roger Davies put himself in the hot seat.

"Mature," said Adam, "But not Adrian. Roger, I'm absolutely positive that I've never shagged this arsehole in my life"

"Correct!" said Roger, removing the blindfold.

Adam had no difficulty recognizing Sea Jay, Adrian and Caerwen, the last, he assured Roger, through a redolence of leeks, laver bread, and sheep-dip.

"Now," said Roger, "We were going to do the same for Adrian, but he's been a bit more choosy than Adam, so we decided just to give him a tee-shirt."

He held the tee-shirt up for all to see.

It bore the legend:

FOR A SLYTHERIN:

ALL I BANGED

Underneath were pictures of Danny, Virion and Colin.

"I can't wear that!" said Adrian.

"Don't worry, Adrian," said Roger, "It's switchable to the sanitised version."

He waved his wand, and, to roars of laughter, the legend changed to:

BIG TALL ADRIAN

FEELS HORNY

The three boys underneath had shifted their position so that they were now bending over with their bottoms in the air.

Amid the laughter, Roger shouted: "Nearly time to unmask Adam!"

He looked at his watch: "Two minutes!"

The false Adam appeared. He was wearing clothes laughably too big for him.

He stood for two minutes, then he started to grow and change shape. Most of those present had never seen Polyjuice reversing itself.

Now they saw Adam change until he was . . . Robbie Files.

They cheered loudly: Roger Davies was not the only Head of House with a sporting attitude to fun.

Time was running short, the party broke up, and they started leaving.

James Poxon's hen party had broken up too, and some of the debutante transvestites were hanging about the corridors, waiting to try their charms on the boys from the Old Theatre.

Testosterone levels were high. Most of the boys had an agenda, and any accessible dark place was likely to be occupied by couples indulging in urgent, short knee-tremblers.

Fortunately, Filch was still asleep, and Mrs Norris could only glare balefully at the fornicators.

Dennis grabbed Colin and led him up a narrow stairway.

"Don't you want to see Mandy?" asked Colin.

"Not now!" said Dennis, leading Colin to a niche behind a suit of armour.

He braced himself against the wall, and shouted: "Bang me hard, big, tall, horny Colin!"

Colin banged very hard, quickly reducing his little brother to a quivering, squealing, mid-orgasm wreck, and pumping his own load into the boy.

They hadn't bothered with any protective Charms: it didn't seem to matter on this particular night.

Others had been equally careless, and the corridors rang with boys expressing their passion in every tone from treble to bass.

"Isn't it a wonderful night, Den?" said Colin.

"I'm so happy!" said Dennis.

Colin noisily pulled his willy out from Dennis, and the boys cuddled for a bit, before moving towards Gryffindor.

They came across Adrian and Virion emerging hand-in-hand from an empty classroom.

"You two look tired out," said Colin, "Did you have an epic?"

"We're just sad," said Adrian, "We've got to part for a year."

"Why?"

"Virion's got a scholarship to study in America."

"Congrats, Virion; and what are you going to do, Adrian?"

"Not so glittering a prize: working on the family farm."

"That's much, much, much better" said Dennis, who loved farms.

They reached the turning for Gryffindor, and kissed the other two goodnight.

The common room was good fun, though anticlimactic after the earlier frolics.

Colin sat with the first-years as they reviewed the night's occurrences.

He had an arm around Alexander, who, though tired out, and denied buggery for the term, was supremely happy.

Euan looked similarly happy as he nestled up to Dennis.

Colin wondered about Euan's sexuality: he had fierce dry orgasms and had enjoyed being wanked off by Dennis a couple of times. How much more did he want? How much did he like Dennis?

As though reading his thoughts, Euan asked Dennis: "Will you show us your blob at break tomorrow."

"Not much to see!" said Dennis, giggling as usual, "Pride goeth before destruction!"

"How do you mean, Den?" asked Colin.

"Last night the lads in the dorm asked me for a demo, and they were all wanking too; and Colin: Raj Mallya's got hair, and can shoot across the room!"

"He kept that quiet."

"Yeah, he's like that," said Dennis, "But, I can still enjoy coming!"

They had used the end-of-term latitude to sit up as late as possible, but, truth to tell, they were tired, and quite pleased when Hermione and Ron chivied them off to bed.

Kenneth Towler was keeping a low profile. For some reason, he didn't like his new nickname: Daffy.

Everyone slept well that night.

X

There was one last bit of business needing Colin's attention.

After lunch he approached Ron Weasley, who was leaving the Great Hall with Harry and Hermione.

"Ron can you spare a moment please?"

"Yes, Colin?"

"I suppose you've heard rumours about the Slytherin potion?"

"Yeah, but when I asked Lee Jordan how he zapped the potion while he was doped by Harrower like the rest of you, he just said: 'You'll never know.' "

"Colin laughed: "Well you're about to learn: Lee was just our agent of mockery; the boy we really have to thank is Matthew Hinton."

"Who?"

"Hufflepuff first year—you'd know him if you saw him. He roused half of the Hufflepuff boys to pee, and that, in the potion."

"Should we get Angelina to thank him—you know—officially, but secretly?" asked Ron.

"No, he'd really appreciate it if you thanked him."

"Me?" Ron laughed. Then he reflected: "I suppose he's right: I was the only Gryffindor boy who wasn't doped that night, so, really, he did the job I should have done."

"All he wants is a little favour from you Ron: just a little arse-sniff."

Ron looked astonished.

Then he smiled and said: "Okay. The things I do for Gryffindor! One dry peck on each cheek, then; but I'm not kissing his hole!"

Colin laughed: "I said arse-sniff, not arse-kiss: he wants to sniff your bottom."

Ron looked even more astonished.

"Why?" he asked.

"That's his business."

"It's not Dark Magic, is it?"

"From Hufflepuff? Don't talk wet."

"Alright. Where and when?"

"Dennis has taken him to the house store-room."

"Right, I'll go and have a wash and meet him there."

"Don't bother washing."

"I had a poo after breakfast."

Ron's ears were pinkening.

"All part of the package," said Colin, "Just rejoice that you're representing Gryffindor in a matter of honour! Come on."

They went up to the store-room, where Ron and Matthew shook hands.

Ron lifted his robe and bent over a chair. He lowered the back of his underpants by a minimal amount.

Matthew bent down.

"A bit more, Weasley, please."

Ron dropped his hand by three inches, and Matthew rammed his head between Ron's muscular bumcheeks,

He took a few deep breaths then backed out.

"While you're there, Ron!" said Colin, as he nipped in and pressed his nose hard against the bumhole.

It was big, like Ron's knob, but tight, and still with a boyish smell: a milder version of Adrian's.

Had they been alone, Colin would have reached around, but he knew that the presence of the two other boys would make Ron too embarrassed to accept a helping hand.

"While you're there, Ron!" said Dennis, taking over from Colin.

"Oh!" said Ron, "That's filthy, Dennis!"

He jumped forward, pulling his pants up.

Dennis turned with a giggle, and stuck his tongue out.

"Is my tongue brown?" he asked.

"You gays!" said Ron, "I'd better go. Consider yourself thanked, Matthew."

"No. Thank you," said Matthew, "That's two complete sets I've got now."

The four boys walked down the stairs, aiming for the outside of the castle.

Ron suddenly stopped and said: "Whaddyer mean 'Two complete sets'?"

Professor Trelawney was passing and Dennis accosted her: "Please Miss: Ron wants to know what does 'two complete sets' mean?"

The Professor looked at Ron: "Ah, Ronald Weasley! Born to the Fish; heart of the Lion; Soul of the Virgin."

She added, in a strange, deep voice: "He shall be known as Daffy, but seventy hours every week he shall move papers and become known as Stone Arse."

She swept majestically past them.

"She forgot: brother to the Twins!" said Dennis.

"Mad as a March Mooncalf!" said Ron as they burst into the open air.

X

As in the previous year, when Cedric's death and the announcement of Voldemort's return had shocked people, the Leaving Feast was a strange affair: speeches were made; prizes were awarded; songs were sung. But to many people, these were all fripperies: some were worried about Voldemort; some had discovered Sex and Romance—especially special friendships between boy and boy; much of the year had been spent under the shadow of Umbridge, resulting in power for some and victimisation for others.

Next morning, Colin and Dennis were unusually quiet as they stepped onto the Hogwarts Express.

It was not that they were unhappy, or worried: they just found it hard to think of anything else but home and family.

Dennis went to sit with his classmates.

Colin sat with Sea Jay and Jonathan Neil. His other two dorm-mates, Ray and Stewart, were with their girlfriends.

Adam and James Poxon, together with Derek Rath, came to join them, so it was a cosy compartment with six gay boys who felt cosy about being gay.

They spent an hour discussing their plans for the summer—the most significant event being the marriage of Adam and James which would be celebrated in Denmark, where fifteen was the minimum age under Wizard Law.

They had just crossed the most beautiful bridge in the world, when five of the boys stood up.

"Come on, Colin," said Sea Jay.

Mystified, Colin followed his friends out of the compartment.

They went along the corridor, and saw some more boys crowded outside a compartment. Alexander and his first year friends were among them.

Derek appeared to be in charge.

He opened the door, and Colin saw a compartment just like all the others. It was empty.

He looked at Alexander and smiled.

"Is this for me and Alexander?" he asked.

"Yes," said Derek.

Colin went to walk in, and stopped: there was a Blocking Charm.

"The password is Access All Areas," said Derek.

Colin spoke and the compartment altered.

It was white. To the right a bed was furnished with brilliant white pillows and coverings. To the left, two white chairs with white upholstery abutted a white table, on which was a half-bottle of Muggle champagne."

"Wow!" he said, "You shouldn't have!"

"Say the password, Alex," came in Dennis's voice.

"Access All Areas—Wow!" said Alexander.

The cork popped out of the champagne.

"There's every Protective Charm we can think of," said Derek, "And two on guard all the time; and you'll only be able to hear knocks from people within the Charm."

"Do you want to go in, Alex?" asked Colin.

In response, the boy went and sat on a chair.

Colin followed, returning the thumbs-up that his brother gave him, and closed the door behind him.

"Isn't it romantic?" said Alexander.

Colin kissed him.

"Everyone's so kind, he said," sitting down and pouring a glass for Alexander.

He poured for himself, and raised the glass in a toast:

"To you and me; I love you, Alex."

"To you and me; I love you, Col."

They Clinked and sipped.

Alexander giggled: "Ooh! The bubbles go right up your nose, just like . . ."

Colin giggled too: the second time that Alexander had sucked him, Colin had produced a particularly voluminous emission.

"Do you want to do it now?"

Alexander was bouncing like Dennis.

Colin felt an intense pang of love; also pity that Alexander should think he needed to offer everything to get anything. He remembered Alexander's first letter.

"Bumming's a couple of minutes," he said, "and we've got hours. You said this is romantic, well let's be romantic. Come and sit on my knee."

Alexander actually sat on Colin's thighs—astraddle, not sideways, as secretaries used to. They were chest-to-chest.

"Romantic . . ." whispered Alexander into Colin's ear, which he then licked.

Colin hugged his friend tightly, but Alexander, perhaps because he had less of Colin to hold on to, was gentler, and, with one hand lightly on Colin's back, stroked his head with the other.

In this position, Alexander was able to look down into Colin's eyes.

"I'm so happy," he said, "This term's been wonderful. You've made it so wonderful. I love you so much."

"Don't forget Danny," said Colin, "It was Danny who freed you."

"And the others; and now I'm a prisoner again."

"A prisoner holding his gaoler hostage."

Alexander pressed his lips against Colin's.

They kissed long and tenderly.

"Colin!" said Alexander, with more urgency, "We've never been nude in daylight! We're wasting precious time."

The boys stripped—clumsily, as they were watching each other.

They stood examining each other from head to foot. Alexander's little willy was stiff; Colin's fatter willy was swaying from side to side as the carriage rocked.

"That's not like you, Colin," said Alexander.

"Half my mind's thinking about home, I'm afraid."

"All my mind's thinking of you. Merlin's beard, your body is beautiful, Col."

Alexander ran his hands over every square inch of Colin's front—neck, shoulders, arms, chest, nipples, tummy, genitals, thighs, shins.

He buried his nose in Colin's armpits in turn. He said: "Three times I've woken up with that smell. It means Happiness."

He turned Colin round and explored his reverse view, looking, stroking, rubbing and squeezing.

He stared a long time at Colin's bumhole, on the way down to the calves.

He rose and stared some more, parting the cheeks and peering closely.

"It's perfectly round," he said, "It's like a browny-pink carnation."

Colin could feel his friend's face pressing against his bum; then a warm nose touching his hole, as Alexander inhaled; then a small finger tentatively nudging its way inside.

Alexander's other hand came round and cupped Colin's tight ballsack, before moving up to wrap itself around his shaft.

Colin had the urge, and when Alexander tightened his hand and pushed his finger further in, whispered: "Oh Yeah!"

"Do it to me. Please Colin." said the boy.

Colin turned and laid the boy face-down on the bed.

He performed the Lubrication Charm, and bestrode the boy.

Alexander's upward growth had outpaced his growth in other dimensions, and he was like the proverbial Sopophorous bean-pole.

Colin passed his hands up and down Alexander's long back, sometimes feeling vibrations from Alexander's protuberant spine.

The boy didn't have a hair on his body—not even the attractive fluff that some of the other boys sported; but Alexander's complete nakedness was attractive too.

Once more he felt a powerful compassion and love for the boy, and let his hands roam again over the rawboned back.

But, of course, his eyes, and then his hands, were drawn to Alexander's bottom. It was tiny—especially in relation to his height.

He pushed the cheeks apart, and looked at the tiniest bumhole he'd ever seen. It was even tinier than Nick White's—though that had probably grown some since Colin had last seen it.

He didn't think he'd be able to do much with it, but at least he might manage a finger.

As with Chris Gillies, he started with his little finger.

The hole was as tight as it looked, and he had to do a lot of wiggling before he got even the tip in.

"Shout if it hurts, Alex," he said, but, even as he spoke, the ring yielded and his finger was fully in.

"That's brilliant!" said the boy.

After a pleasant few minutes, Colin had succeeded in replacing the little finger with the forefinger, and then with what Danny called the business finger.

Colin smiled as he remembered Danny's rhyme:

One finger, they're aching,

Two fingers, they're ready,

Three fingers, they've taken

A few cocks already.

Well, Alex was certainly aching for it.

Now for two fingers!

It was slow work: time and again Colin reverted to one finger so as to give Alex's muscles a chance to relax again.

At one stage he noticed the sea outside the window, and thought of Azkaban out there somewhere. He then thought of the irrelevance of his previous thought.

At last, he could feel that his two fingers—fully inserted and with a little play—had succeeded in getting the boy ready.

He turned Alexander on his side.

"Brace yourself against the wall," he said, "and if it hurts, relax your pushing."

He pressed his willy against the hole and increased the pressure ever-so-gradually.

Twice Alexander moved slightly away from him and Colin lay still for a while.

At the third go, Colin felt the hole yielding and knew he'd got his bell-end inside because of the constriction on the top of the shaft, Goodness, the boy was tight!

All this time, Alexander had not emitted a single squeal.

Now, he said: "Go on, Col. All the way."

Colin pushed at a snail's pace until he felt Alexander's tiny bumcheeks slotting into his groin.

Then he moved back a little . . . then forward . . . then back . . .

The two boys were shagging!

Colin had been so engrossed with the mechanics of penetration that he hadn't felt lust. Now, though, he felt the urge strongly. His body wanted to bang into Alexander and batter his tight anus at full speed. Instead, he had the slowest shag of his life, making every stroke an enchanting event in itself.

Amazingly, Alexander's long torso enabled him to twist round, and it was possible for the boys to snog.

They continued snogging, while Colin's pleasure rose and rose, until, in an explosion of joy, his boyjuice spurted and spurted for what seemed hours and hours.

He wanted them to be face-to-face, so started withdrawing carefully until they were separated. Then Alexander lay on his back, with Colin lying on top of him.

"Wasn't that the most wonderful thing, Col?" said Alexander, "I can't tell you what it felt like: it was our bodies, but it was spiritual at the same time. Do you feel that?"

"Yes I do, Alex," said Colin, "We love each other and that was the highest way to celebrate our love."

"Yes, it's a celebration, and it's made me love everyone else. I just want everyone to be happy . . ."

They burbled sweet nothings for some time—Alexander doing most of the burbling—until there was a knock on the door.

Colin opened it a crack.

It was Adam and James.

Colin flinched as someone passed by.

"Don't worry," said Adam, "They can't see a thing. We brought you some lunch—sandwiches and pumpkin juice—we didn't get you any more champagne because we didn't want you to arrive at King's Cross pissed out your heads."

"Thanks, Adam. Thanks, James."

"See yer, Colin. See yer, Alexander."

Adam was too much of a gentleman to ask for a progress report.

They sat down and nibbled the sandwiches, looking, sometimes at each other, and sometimes at the scenery flashing by.

With their first sip of juice they toasted Danny Jorrocks and the Jiggers!

After lunch, Alexander saw that Colin had the horn again.

He lay on the bed and said: "At the Jiggers, they said that this way you get the deepest penetration."

"Are you sure you want it?"

"NOW!"

It was a command.

So Colin shagged Alexander again, this time with the boy's legs on his shoulders. It was a much harder shag: as hard as the frenetic Jonny whomping into Sea Jay.

It was a shorter, more intense orgasm, and this time Alexander gave a couple of squeaks of pain.

Afterwards, Colin reached in his pocket.

"I brought this: Dittany." he said, and took immense pleasure in anointing Alexander with the soothing lotion.

"I'm glad it doesn't smell," said Alexander, "I like the smell of your sweat."

They sat down again and talked about the next nine weeks.

"Is there any chance at all, that we can see each other through the hols?" asked Alexander.

"It depends on others," said Colin, "Mum and Dad; Danny Jorrocks; some aunties and uncles; and Voldemort, of course. I don't think I'll be free to see you, but let's swap owls once a week."

"Yeah, but Colin . . . make them safe, please: my parents would kill me if they knew I was gay."

"Yeah, there's quite a few parents like that—Muggle parents are worse, so I'm lucky: mine must know, but they don't talk about it."

X

Too soon, and yet, not soon enough, they were an hour away from King's Cross.

They had one last, passionate embrace.

"I love you, Colin."

"I love you, Alexander."

They dressed and opened the door after Colin had done a quick Scourgio!

Susan Bones and Derek Rath were on duty.

"That was kind of you, Susan," said Colin.

"No trouble, Colin. I hoped for a peep, to be honest, but they wouldn't give girls the password. Never mind: I always enjoy a good crack with Del-boy here."

They separated, and Colin and Derek went to join their friends in changing into Muggle clothes.

Soon, the train was arriving into King's Cross, as the announcer put it.

Colin found Dennis.

They were both trembling with excitement.

They collected their stuff, loaded it on two trolleys, and trotted towards the end of the platform, scarcely noticing Harry Potter.

The ticket inspector prudently let the careering boys through the barrier, and they passed, without noticing, Fred and George, standing beside Professors Lupin and Moody: the Creevey brothers had eyes only for the Creevey family.

And there they were: Mum and Dad; Joan, Geoffrey, Caroline, and little Audrey.

They ran up and hugged and kissed all round.

Dennis shouted: "Mum, Dad! We had a Russian boy and I got forty-six in the Junior Broomstick and Colin stopped them cheating and Harry Potter's okay but he's miserable but Colin says he'll soon get over losing his godfather because he's got good friends and . . ."

Simultaneously, Geoffrey was shouting: "Colin, Dennis: I got twenty out of twenty in English and I got twenty-six at cricket and another match I did an accidental spell and the bails didn't come off and Dad says I should've walked and I mended Joan's dolls' house and it's only two years before I go to Hogwarts and . . ."

Dancing around them, the three girls were shouting: "Colin . . . Dennis . . . Colin . . . Dennis . . . Colin . . . Dennis . . ."

They walked towards the Floo Point, and Dennis had the last word, shouting over everyone else: "There's no place like home!"

The complete Gay Harry Potter 2014 Edition is available at aitch tee tee pee colon slash slash double ewe double ewe double ewe NN dot zippyshare dot com slash vee slash MMMMMMMM slash eff eye ell eee

the numerics are:

RTF: NN=21 MMMMMMMM= 71716702

EPUB: NN=45 MMMMMMMM=76060336

MOBI: NN=74 MMMMMMMM=10193054

The files included are:

Gay Harry Potter-01-0-The Philosopher's Stone

Gay Harry Potter-02-0-The Chamber of Secrets

Gay Harry Potter-03-0-The Prisoner of Azkaban

Gay Harry Potter-04-0-The Goblet of Fire

Gay Harry Potter-04-1-Danny Jorrocks and the Four Missing Persons

Gay Harry Potter-04-2-Danny Jorrocks and the Week of Sex

Gay Harry Potter-05-0-The Order of the Phoenix

Gay Harry Potter-05-1-Danny Jorrocks and the Slytherin Conspiracy

Gay Harry Potter-05-2-Danny Jorrocks and the Russian Boys

Gay Harry Potter-05-3-Colin and the Slytherins

Gay Harry Potter-05-4-Dean Thomas and the Thirteen Naked Boys

Gay Harry Potter-05-5-Sex, Drugs, Rock-n-Roll-and Colin Creevey

Gay Harry Potter-05-6-Danny Jorrocks and the Stones of Power

Gay Harry Potter-06-0-The Half-Blood Prince

[Gay Harry Potter-06-1-The Commandos from Married Quarters]

Gay Harry Potter-07-0-The Deathly Hallows

[Gay Harry Potter-07-1-The Next Day: Harry's Story]

[Gay Harry Potter-07-2-The Next Day: Danny's Story]

[Gay Harry Potter-08-1-Geoffrey Creevey's First Year]

Gay Harry Potter-26-1-The Battle of Hogwarts, Nineteen Years On

[Gay Harry Potter-26-2- Nineteen Years and One Day]

[. . .] = To appear in Gay Harry Potter 2015 Edition