HARRY POTTER AND THE BIG NIGHT IN
By
The Slut Queen & The Virgin King.
It was the beginning of Harry's seventh year at Hogwarts. Professor Dumbledore was welcoming the new students, who looked very underage and innocent to Harry's tired eyes. He hadn't slept much at the Dursleys that Christmas due to the arrival of Mr and Mrs Dursleys twins. Icky poo – more of the dreaded Dursleys, and all of them ugly and screaming as much as Dudley ever did. And if it were possible, looking even fatter.
Dumbledore stood, smiling benignly at everyone.
"Welcome back to our old students, a first welcome to new students, and a big cheeky hello to Professor Macgonagall."
Professor Macgonagall looked perturbed, and slightly ill. She adjusted the folds of her cloak, and Harry caught a flash of fishnet stocking.
Now he felt slightly ill.
Dumbledore continued. "There have been some innovations at Hogwarts during the holiday break. The second floor roofs have been adjusted to accommodate the giants studying here now, so please be aware of falling plaster. Secondly, Mrs Norris was accidentally transfigured during the holidays and is now a sabre tooth tiger. Third, first years, please take care on the third floor staircase. It isn't there."
Macgonagall tugged on his robe. He looked delighted and began to remove it.
"No!" she hissed. "Not that. You have to remind them about the….you know."
Dumbledore shrugged back into his robe and looked confused for a moment.
"Ahh….ah yes." He raised his voice. "All students should avoid the first floor boys lavatory. No one, and I want to make this absolutely clear Harry Potter, is to enter. No Potions mixing, Miss Granger, no daft spelling Mr Weasley, and especially no snakes. Anyone."
Harry, Ron and Hermione shot glances at each other. Draco Malfoy shot peas at them off his spoon. Ron returned a gob of potato.
"Food fight!" yelled Pansy Parkinson, and rose, stewed carrots at hand.
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, and his wand. The carrots sludged together, and formed one giant carrot, that pushed Pansy back into her seat.
"Wonder what's in that bathroom," Ron muttered.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "What are you looking at me for? I don't use the boys toilets. It's you two who spend time in the girls bathrooms."
"That was ages ago!' Ron said.
"And you'll never let us forget it," Harry added. "As if floral toilet paper makes a proper birthday present."
Being the nosey parkers they are, they had to investigate immediately, to make sure You-Know-Wasn't in there. Despite the fact he had been vanquished last year. Many thanks to the three witches who did that. And their many lovers, and children. What a good thing Professor Macgonagall remembered those three daughters she had living in San Francisco.
After dinner, students were dispersed to their dormitories. Few people thought to question Dumbledore's orders, except one stupid first year, who hadn't been wearing his hearing aids, and stumbled out of the first floor boys bathroom, clad head to toe in what looked like a latex bodybag. He was taken away to the Infirmary, where Madam Pomfrey had to cut him loose, and then apply a great deal of gel to him.
Fewer people thought to ask where three determined 7th years were going after hours. Ron opened the bathroom door.
"Oh, for the love of Merlin! It's only one of George and Fred's machines. I recognise the logo."
True enough, there was an oblong metal container attached to the wall, bearing the big yellow canary sticker of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Ron backed up.
"Then again, who knows what it does. George turned Mum's wand into a Vespa moped. Dad was thrilled. Mum had a hell of a time hefting it around the kitchen, using the exhaust pipe to spell with."
"Don't be stupid, Ron," said Hermione. "We know very well what happens. Look at David McGuffin. The machine wraps people in latex."
"Very bloody useful," said Ron.
"We can't stand around here being frightened of it," Harry said. He was crossing his legs. "I have to go anyway."
He marched ahead of his two friends and headed for the urinal. He brushed past the machine. Deep within the cube, a red eye winked on, off, on. It made an obscene grinding noise. Hermione had backed out of the bathroom at the mention of Harry's urgency, but Ron stretched forward and hit the machine with his fist.
"Bloody fairy-made crap. Dad told my brothers to use elf labour, but no. They had to use fairies. I'm surprised it works at all."
A small flat object dropped out of the machine and elongated into a transparent wormlike creature. It nosed around blindly, and then headed for Harry, who was in the stance of man feeling much relieved in front of the urinal.
Ron saw the worm creature leap in front of Harry, then heard Harry's "Gedditorfme!"
Harry bounced backwards and slammed into Ron. Both of them went down. "Blergh!" screamed Ron.
Hermione tore the bathroom door open. She saw Ron on the floor, sprawled, and Harry on top of him, tackle out.
She pointed her wand. Ron was suffocating.
"Wingardium leviosa!"
Harry was lifted, crotch first.
"Will you aim that thing properly?" Harry yelled.
Hermione got a better grip on her wand and expanded the spell to include Harry's whole body. Harry rose to the ceiling, rotating slowly so that he finally hovered over Ron. Ron didn't move, winded.
It was then Ron noticed it. Harry was wearing a condom. Hermione was looking steadfastly at the floor. Nice girls didn't look at that sort of thing. She stole a peek. No, no, nice girl. Remember, nice girl! She tried not to look at Ron's crotch either, but hell, she had to look somewhere.
"Is that what that machine was? A condom dispenser. Can you take it off?" ron asked.
Harry fiddled ineffectually with his tackle. "No, it's stuck."
Ron stood up and reached. "Really? Let's have a go."
Hermione backed out of the bathroom again. 'I'll just leave you to your sickening male bonding," she said, and stormed off down the hallway.
"Shoot, it is stuck!" Ron saidl
"Get your hands the hell off me!" Harry shouted. "And get me down from here."
Ron levitated Harry down to ground level. Both of them stared at Harry's predicament.
"Don't think I can help you, mate," said Ron. 'I'll go get someone who can. Don't go anywhere until I get back." He ducked out of the room.
He crept into a cubicle and sat down. "Please, don't get Macgonagall," he prayed.
As he sat there, he felt the condom shudder. It moved against him, rippling. Quite nice, really. No, no, this was too strange. He tried to think unsexy thoughts. He ran through spell lists but kept coming back to the Dancing Underpants spell. He thought about all his years of Potions classes. Urk, that worked. He thought about Quidditch scores but that lead to thoughts about other sorts of scoring. He thought about Macgonagall in fishnets. He thought about Vernon Dursley in fishnets. The condom was still stroking him. He found thoughts about Dursley strangely attractive. He staggered out of the cubicle, and began to bang his head on the wall. He hit the condom machine. Hard. Condons spewed out. They got to their tiny latex feet and ran, or slithered out of the room.
The condoms were loose in Hogwarts.
Hermione felt something brush past her foot. She was in an unfamiliar part of the castle. So easy to do when one is peeved and not looking where the staircases took you. She heard a growl from around a darkened corner.
Mrs Norris. And it was her dinner time.
Hermione ran, hoping to outdistance the tiger. She skidded past the t-intersection. A pale hand reached out and grabbed her. She screamed.
"Shut up, you silly girl!" said a chocolatey voice.
She gasped in Snape's grasp. 'I thought you were Mrs Norris."
"The trouble with you is that you don't think." Snape sighed. "But it's a common enough mistake. Many have made it, particularly flighty young- Oof!" He grunted and bent forward. His eyes widened and he looked askance at Hermione for a moment, and saw both her hands balled in front of her. Not what he'd assumed at all. He looked down. Hermione followed his gaze.
His robes where flung back. Now she knew what he wore under them for dress occasions such as the Welcoming Dinner. Nothing. There was a lurid purple, pulsating condom slithering up his passion pestle.
Hermione was flabbergasted. Then oddly warm between her legs. And it had nothing to do with the underfloor heating.
Snape gathered his thoughts quickly. "Is this some idiotic student prank, Granger?" he demanded. He used his spare hand to tug at the condom. It didn't move, but what it encased did, growing harder under his ministrations.
"Professor, I swear, I don't know what's happening." She tried her best to look at the ceiling. Snape's face was in the way, and she could see up his nose.
Snape glared down at her. Her upturned face was the shape of a heart. Or maybe a lush apricot. Hermione licked her lips, nervous. The tip of her tongue was bright red, as it would be after sucking sherbet. Snape thought of the delicious fizz that would be inside her mouth and lowered his face to hers.
Hermione tried to recoil, but Snape's arm held her fast. Her mouth opened under his. He tasted of brandy and smelled of mandrake root. His tongue slid over her teeth and pushed beyond into the warm wet depths of her mouth. She made a small noise. Snape couldn't tell if it were protest or acquiescence, and no longer cared. The condom squeezed him rhythmically.
He pushed Hermione to the floor, pulling his wand from his robes.
"Jelly floor," he said.
The stone floor under them softened, became spongy. Snape lay over Hermione, his elbows either side of her, so that he sunk until he was supine, his chest to hers, his robes spilling over both of them. His robes were lined with satin and the material ran through Hermione's hands, cool to her increasing heat.
"Know-it-all girls deserve more than detention," Snape whispered. "Nasty little girls who think they are clever need to be shown they don't know everything. There are some shocking lapses in your education, Granger."
"Teach me."
Snape reached into a fold of his robe and withdrew a small vial. He unstoppered it with his teeth, and used his hands to part Hermione's robes and shirt. He trickled the liquid between her breasts. She wore no bra.
He bit gently at one mound. "I do so like a drink with my meals," he said.
Hermione felt her skin heat, and she smelled of mandrake root and brandy.
Professor Macgonagall sank into a welcoming bath.
"Hello," said the bath. "Welcome to me."
"Shut up," said Macgonagall. "I've had a bastard of a day. My bloody daughters want to come live here, and I've just found out I'm a grandmother." She stuck one leg up in the air and soaped it. "And I laddered my stockings. What else can go wrong?"
The door to the bathroom slammed off its hinges and Draco Malfoy came in, screaming.
"Professor Macgonagall, I can't get it off!"
Macgonagall stopped in mid-suds. He gaze travelled the length of the tall blonde boy. Now a man. He had both hands on his genitals and Macgonagall could see a star-spangled condom encasing him.
"Help me!" He was flushed.
"Where is your house master?"
"I can't find him. Help me! Please!"
Macgonagall sighed. Every year it was the same. Randy boys coming to her for help. Not knowing what to do with their rampant hormones. Macgonagall reached for her wand and enspelled the bath. It grew into a large spa.
"Come along Malfoy," she said.
Malfoy was confused. Was this what he wanted? He took a milli-second to search his feelings, and shucked his clothes. At least he wouldn't leave Hogwarts a virgin. It was very embarrassing to have that embossed on the certificate. In gold leaf. That throbbed.
He entered the water, and Macgonagall handed him something green and slimy. Gillyweed. He chewed it, and dove.
Five Hufflepuff girls ran down the corridors, shouting and crying. Five yellow tickler condoms pursued them.
"Help, save us!'
"I'm frightened."
"Run slower, they can't catch up!"
Harry head hurt. Both ends hurt. Why him? First it was living with the Dursleys, then it was that whole Voldemort thing, and then that terrible incident on top of the Divination Tower when Madam Trelawney's third eye winked at him. The condom had brought him to a state of painful arousal. He thought about Dementors. No good. The mousehole in the corner was starting to look good.
The bathroom door creaked open slowly. Ron's voice could be heard without.
"Go on," Harry heard him say.
A whisper. "I've never been in here before."
"He needs help! Please!"
Feet shuffled in. Harry turned from his contemplation of the Rorshach of a stain on the wall.
"Ginny!"
"H-harry?"
Ginny blushed. Harry turned completely, and the most prominent part of himself waved recklessly as he did so. His teeth were clenched.
"The only way to get this off me is-"
"Deflate you," Ginny concluded. She whipped out her wand. "Good thing Tom Riddle's diary talked back to me," she said. "It taught me a lot." She smiled. "Engorgio!"
Harry's eyes widened as he became harder than he thought possible.
"Jelly legs!"
Harry dropped to the floor.
"Incarcium!"
Harry found his arms tied above his head by a silk scarf. He swallowed nervously.
Ron sagged against the wall. He'd never run so much in all his life. Why had Ginny decided tonight would be a good night to start training for track events on the Quidditch pitch? It had taken half an hour to run her down and drag her back to the bathroom.
He was looking forward to slumping into his bed. He dragged through the castle, and was surprised to see Sir Cadogan grappling with the Fat Lady in the Pink Dress in her picture frame. The Fat Lady didn't care about the password and Ron was just about to step through the doorway, when he was struck by a wave of sadness. Squeals and gasps rang out from the Gryffindor common room, and it seemed the very walls of Hogwarts were sighing and shivering. And here he was, alone as bloody usual.
No point going into the common room. Most likely the only person who wasn't occupied would be Neville Longbottom. No thanks. Ron turned and prepared to make a long night of it sleeping in the main hall.
He got there moments before the bright pink condom attacked him. It thrust against him with such force that he fell through the doorway.
"Thank the gods!" yelled a husky voice.
"I'm frightened!" said another.
"Shut up, Nyota. Hey, girls, we've got a live one!"
The five Hufflepuff girls descended upon him, tickler condoms all waiting their turn.
Ron wept openly. "Thankyou," he said.
Dumbledore sighed. He surveyed the main hall. Breakfast had just appeared on the tables. There were bags under everyone's eyes. The house elves looked tired. Several Ravenclaw girls blanched at the sight of sausages.
Macgonagall was studiously ignoring Malfoy's eye. Professor Sinistra nudged her. Macgonagall rolled her eyes.
"Been there, done that, got the dress robe," she said, under her breath.
Hermione was fidgeting in her seat, unable to find a comfortable position. She wondered if it would be too obvious to spell in a cushion.
Snape's smile was so slight it was hardly noticeable, but the smell of one of his soothing salves was strong. The one that was used for chafing and gravel rash.
Harry had several scratches to accompany his scar.
Ron was asleep in his porridge. But he was smiling, and his chest was puffed out.
Dumbledore winked at one of the teaching staff, and grinned, then cleared his throat. "Mr Filch informs me that the first level boys bathroom is currently out of order, so please remember that. He is also very upset about Mrs Norris, who hasn't returned his calls. Would whoever is keeping her company please remedy that." There was an embarrassed cough from amongst the Slytherin table. "There is a spongy wet area on the third floor, so please be careful." Madam Hooch yawned and sagged gracefully into her Weeties. "Quidditch classes will be cancelled today, so you may all make free with that time." There were moans of delight and cries for mercy all over the room. "And could everyone remember not to use the girls bathroom on level 2 until ….something is removed. Thankyou."
He sat down, very carefully.
Harry raised an eyebrow at Hermione.
"No!" she said. "We're not going there. It's a tampon machine. Brand new. From-"
"Weasley's Wizard Wheezes."
They both groaned.
© S.Queen & V.King 2002