(disclaimer – these characters etc belong to J.K Rowling)
Harry knew he shouldn't. Knew it was wrong. But he couldn't help it. He hadn't been there for so long. He remembered fondly his first visit there. It was his first year at Hogwarts and he and Ron had saved Hermione from a troll. He didn't say anything at the time, but he'd liked it there. In his second year he'd spent even more time there – talking to Moaning Myrtle, making the Polyjuice Potion……those were the days.
Now Harry, in his fifth year at Hogwarts, once again found himself walking quickly towards the girl's toilets on the third floor. Nobody was around – nobody would see. He imagined the pristine condition of the toilets – so unlike the boy's scummy, toilet-papered ceiling ones. He could almost see the sparkling pipes and porcelain thrones and smell the lavender-scented air freshener.
At last he was there. Harry couldn't contain himself anymore. He felt like he was going to burst – he ached with anticipation. Bursting open the door, Harry entered. He had made it. Just as he suspected the toilets were deserted – and just as he'd imagined, they were still the same. Oh why couldn't he come here more often? Suddenly Harry felt his insides quiver. His gut wrenched. There was no time to lose. This was it. Harry held up his robes and yanked off his pants, and quicker than he could say "expelliarmus" – he erupted. Aaaah, he thought to himself. This is joy, this is satisfaction, heck, this is even better than magic.
THE END
Harry knew he shouldn't. Knew it was wrong. But he couldn't help it. He hadn't been there for so long. He remembered fondly his first visit there. It was his first year at Hogwarts and he and Ron had saved Hermione from a troll. He didn't say anything at the time, but he'd liked it there. In his second year he'd spent even more time there – talking to Moaning Myrtle, making the Polyjuice Potion……those were the days.
Now Harry, in his fifth year at Hogwarts, once again found himself walking quickly towards the girl's toilets on the third floor. Nobody was around – nobody would see. He imagined the pristine condition of the toilets – so unlike the boy's scummy, toilet-papered ceiling ones. He could almost see the sparkling pipes and porcelain thrones and smell the lavender-scented air freshener.
At last he was there. Harry couldn't contain himself anymore. He felt like he was going to burst – he ached with anticipation. Bursting open the door, Harry entered. He had made it. Just as he suspected the toilets were deserted – and just as he'd imagined, they were still the same. Oh why couldn't he come here more often? Suddenly Harry felt his insides quiver. His gut wrenched. There was no time to lose. This was it. Harry held up his robes and yanked off his pants, and quicker than he could say "expelliarmus" – he erupted. Aaaah, he thought to himself. This is joy, this is satisfaction, heck, this is even better than magic.
THE END
