Seven Potters Potting
An impotence-inducing and mercifully short fan fiction.
Harry gazed in bewilderment at his friends as they transformed. It might just have been the most bizarre thing he had ever seen, and he'd seen some really bizarre things. Six doppelgangers rummaged in the sacks, pulling out sets of clothes, putting on glasses, stuffing their own things away. They stripped with impunity, clearly much more at ease with displaying his body than they would have been with their own.
"Hey, that's private!" he said, flushing, though secretly there as a stirring in his pants. A perverse lust suddenly overcame him.
It didn't take long for one of the others to notice. "Harry, is that your wand shoved down the front of your pants?" Ron asked, his now green eyes widening in wonder.
"It might not be a wand," Harry said, "but it has magical properties."
Ron blushed, and shifted his posture so that he was leaning over to the right, feet crossed at the ankles. Harry did the same, thinking the mirror effect was hilarious.
Hermione was looking between Harry and Ron, squinting.
"Harry, your eyesight is really awful," she said, putting on and taking off the glasses. "But…in a weird way, I totally feel sexier as you than I ever did as my frumpy little self."
Harry shrugged, feeling his…wand…pressing urgently against the fabric of his jeans. The way Ron's cheeks were turning red, it was very much like Ron in his normal form, but so interesting in how it wasn't.
It was also hot as fuck.
George and Fred were poking each other in the small of the back, giggling.
"Hey, we're identical!" George said.
"I don't know, I think I still have the bigger cock," Fred said.
"Oh yeah? Prove it!"
So Fred did, dropping his drawers to reveal a throbbing meat wand which was the size of Harry's actual wand. It came to a head which was a deep purple, and which was already oozing a clear, creamy sauce.
Fleur's eyes grew the size of dinner plates, and she dropped her drawers as well, followed soon after by Ron, Hermione, George, Mundungus (who made a remark about it being nice to have such a young cock again), and the real Harry, who was suddenly feeling very proud.
All of the cocks were identical in the basics; eleven inches, like Harry's wand, only made of man beef instead of holly and possessing baby gravy in the middle instead of a phoenix feather.
Bill stood over in the corner, looking at the Harry who used to be his fiancé, Fleur.
"I need a drink," he said, and left the room. Mad-eye followed him out, looking gravely ill and muttering something about queers.
"Looks like we're all alone with each other," Harry said, pausing for a minute afterwards to reflect on the contradictory nature of that sentence.
It took very little time for the others to make note of that fact and remove the clothes they had just put on, until there were seven naked Harry Potter's standing in the kitchen, cocks in hand, stroking vigorously.
Fred Potter and George Potter began snogging noisily, while Fleur Potter stuck her fingers into her ass. When Harry questioned why, she said "itz 'ow I'm used to self-pleasurrre, but you do not have ze vagina."
He understood, and followed suit. Then an idea popped into his head, and with his other hand he released his meat wand and reached for his real wand. While this was happening, Hermione Potter came over and took his cock in her mouth, thereby fulfilling his inner desire to blow himself.
He waved the wand at the other five in a grand sweeping motion and said "posterius upendus!"
Mundungus Potter squealed with glee as he and the others were forced to bend over, their asses in the air and cheeks spread wide. Harry always took pristine care of his nether regions, and felt now was the time to show it off and do a little self-inspection.
Slapping Hermione Potter in the face so she'd get off his dick, he took his now well-lubricated member over to Ron Potter.
"You were always jealous of my celebrity, so here – take the celebrity treatment. You want it?"
"Yes," Ron moaned, "fuck me up the ass with your hot celebrity cock!"
Harry did so, real wand in his left hand the whole time, which he used to perform "lubrikate dickus" spells when necessary. After Ron Potter had sprayed his creamy white alfredo sauce of love all over the linoleum, he moved on to Fred Potter and George Potter.
"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," he said wryly, thinking that no magic map would be needed to fuck these mischievous studs. And boy, did Harry ever find himself the stud.
After that it was Mundungus, who made more noise than was necessary and who frankly creeped Harry out even when they weren't identical. Besides, who the holy fuck named their kid Mundungus?
When it came time for Fleur, she tried to decline, saying that this potion wouldn't last forever and that she still had to marry Bill, but he showed that bitch what was up; he showed her his cock up her ass.
"Ah yes," she moaned, "in France, dis is considered to be a paht of growing up; all ze young couplez take Polyjuice potion and turn into each other, and play in ze bedroom as such."
"That's some fucked up shit," he said, "now shut up and paint those cabinets over there with my cum."
She did, and then he finished himself off and did the same, thinking the pearly white droplets on the wood finishing was almost artistic. Then he remembered he'd forgotten someone, but when he turned around, he saw that Ron Potter and Hermione Potter were going at it, Ron having recuperated for round two in the time it took to fuck Fred, George, Mundungus, and Fleur.
Ah well, Harry thought, it was going to happen between those two sooner or later anyways.