When Harry met Harry 1/3
Title: When Harry met Harry
Author: k8matty
Pairing: Harry/everyone, Ron/Draco, Marcus/Oliver, Neville/Seamus, Fred/George, Lucius/Severus
Rating: N-17
Summary: When Harry receives a deeply disturbing story about himself and Professor Snape, his efforts to destroy it unwittingly send him forwards into the Fannonverse. Several highly-traumatizing sights and a quick stop to the Special Hell later, can Harry find the elusive, yet highly disturbed 'Kate' and return to his own world? Or will he be stuck in this never-ending orgy forever?
Warnings: Twincest, bondage, public!sex, and CRACK. So much pure, undiluted crack, I could sell it at $200 a hit. Mary Sue.
~*~
Harry mewled as spidery hands furrowed through his jet-black locks. The touch was unbearably light and had Harry panting like a bitch in heat, his cock tenting his trousers and his balls drawing up in anticipation.
“Sir…” Harry moaned, flicking a tongue out to catch a taste of one of those ivory fingers as it brushed teasingly over his lower lip.
“Silence, Potter.” Snape purred in a velvet voice as he slid his index and middle finger into Harry’s mouth. Harry sucked eagerly at his digits, delighting in the rough moan that issued from the older man.
“Coat them good.” Snape hissed warningly, and Harry groaned around the Potion Masters fingers as he realised which orifice Snape was intent of putting them next. Harry worked his mouth furiously, generating as much saliva as possible before Snape withdrew them, leaving Harry feeling pathetically disappointed.
Snape rubbed his wetted fingers together appreciatively, smirking as he nodded his head at Harry. “Turn around. And bend over.”
Harry obeyed, nearly falling arse over tail in his haste to spin around and fling himself over the nearest desk. Expecting Snape to breach him gently, one by one, Harry was shocked as two fingers were roughly shoved inside him. Harry arched, gasping as Snape pushed in deeper with no regard for Harry’s comfort, until his knuckles were pressing against his hole. Harry moaned, clenching around those fingers as Snape crooked them deliberately, clearly in search of Harry’s prostate. Snape knew he had found it when Harry bucked madly, and shouted “Fuck yes!”
Growling, Snape undid his trousers, withdrawing the hard length and aligning it with Harry’s hole.
“Fuck me!” Harry shouted, cock leaking precome all over the desktop. “Fuck m-”
Harry gagged on his sausages, coughing loudly and earning curious looks from everyone at the Gryffindor breakfast table.
“You alright, Harry?” Ron thumped his best mate hard on the back, peering over Harry’s shoulder to catch a glimpse at whatever had caused Harry to inhale half his breakfast.
He blushed all over and stuffed the offending document into his school-robe. “I’m fine!” He squawked, scrunching his fist around the letter in his pocket.
Ron gave him an odd look and went back to a far more interesting task than ascertaining Harry’s well-being in the form of stuffing his face full of egg.
Harry exhaled and reached for the envelope, fuming with humiliation that ignitined his cheeks with a soft red glow. Whoever had dared to send him this… this… filth would soon feel his wrath in its entirety.
The envelope had no return address, but the seal was in the shape of a small red square, across which Harry could make out the word ‘k8matty’, and a ghostly imprint of a woman.
“Nutjobs,” Harry muttered to himself, resolving to burn the nasty, evil little story the first chance he got, along with any other disgusting letters this ‘Kate Matty’ dared to plague him with.
~*~
Harry waited up that night, willing all the other Gryffindors to go to bed so he could carry out his task. The disgusting lies had weighed down his pocket all day, and yet he could not bring himself to throw it out, horrified at the very idea of someone finding, or worse reading, the mind-bogglingly sick scenario some deeply disturbed person had dreamed up between himself and Professor Snape.
Once the final student had gone to bed, Harry leapt from the red leather armchair and withdrew the paper, holding it at a distance between pinched fingers, as though it were something slimy and disgusting. Which, come to think of it, it essentially was.
With one last sneer worthy of his fictional counterpart, Harry dropped the abomination into the fireplace, where it was immediately consumed by heat and flames.
“Thank God,” Harry breathed, turning around to finally go to bed.
The next moment, Harry wanted to go to the bathroom. To throw up. To throw up violently and possibly gouge his eyes out, which was a perfectly sane response when one turned around to be instantly greeted with the sight of Fred and George, fucking on the sofa.
“Fuck yes, you love it!” Fred hissed, ploughing into the mirror image pinned beneath him.
Harry gaped in horror as George rolled his eyes back and keened for more; this was a joke, it had to be some kind of sick joke…
Harry couldn’t take it anymore. He hadn’t actually been all that good at taking it to begin with. He tore his eyes away from the nightmare in front of him and crawled through the portrait hole, cold sweat breaking over his brow. Oh god, how could he tell Ron?
“Ron…”
Yes, that’s right, Ron.
“Oh, Ron!”
…what the hell?
Harry slipped from the portrait hole and quickly righted himself so he could see who was moaning his best friend’s name like a mantra. Quite as soon as he had, he wished he hadn’t.
“Shit, shit Malfoy…” Ron panted, his hands scrabbling at the wall he was pressed against, pressed against by Draco Malfoy, who was panting in equal measure. The voracious expression across his bright-red face was one that Harry could quite happily go without ever, ever seeing again, and the same went double for the flushed prick sliding wetly in and out of his best friend’s arse.
Ron gurgled unattractively, and Harry retched as white ropes spurted over equally white fingers, long pale fingers that most certainly did not belong to Ron. Ron slumped forwards, a blissful look on his face, just as Malfoy pulled out of him with a revolting squelch.
The sight of Malfoy’s softening cock prompted Harry to turn and flee, as far away from this terrible scene as his shorter-than-average legs would allow. He ignored the initial burn in his sides as he barrelled down the marble staircase, never worrying for a moment that Filch might catch him thundering around the castle. He just had to get away, far far away.
He’d managed to reach the dungeons before his legs finally gave out, and he collapsed, breathing heavily against the wall. The stone corridor was silent but for the sounds of Harry’s panting. Or so Harry thought. For long after Harry had got his breath back, the sounds of his panting continued.
Harry tiptoed forwards, following the sound of heavy breathing. His psyche urgently reminded him of his mission to find a blunt object with which to smite his tainted brain cells, but Harry’s curiosity overwhelmed him as he found himself pushing open a very familiar looking door. The door to the potions lab, Harry reminded himself a fraction too late.
“Arrrrrgh!” Harry screamed, his mind finally snapping as the naked, writhing figures of Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape assaulted his vision. “ARRRGH!”
Snape and Malfoy stopped in their movements, movements that should not even be physically possible, yet alone performed by two of Harry’s most hated men on the planet. The men looked across the room at Harry, Lucius having to look upside down, for his head was lolling off the desk over which he was currently splayed and handcuffed. Snape, much to Harry’s horror, stood behind the desk, Malfoy’s legs over his shoulders. His tongue was currently pressed against one alabaster ankle, and his cock… oh God, not Snape’s cock, Harry whimpered internally.
“Potter.” Snape detached his mouth from the pale ankle and visibly sank further into Lucius’ body, eliciting a needy groan. “Will you be joining us? Fear not, Lucius can be very… accommodating.”
Harry thought about that for a moment.
“ARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Harry flung his arm over his eyes as though burning acid had been thrown in his face. He stampeded from the dungeon, in desperate search of an alcove in which he could cower. Such was Harry’s state that he’d yet to consider the ramifications of running full pelt down a corridor with ones vision obscured by ones forearm, and he therefore shouldn’t have been quite so surprised when he smacked rather painfully into a solid object.
“Ow!” the solid object protested. “Watch where you’re going, you idiot!”
Harry refused to stop shielding his eyes. “Are you naked?” he demanded, readying himself just in case.
“…um… no?”
Breathing a sigh of relief, Harry lowered his arm, grateful that for once tonight, he wasn’t about to be seriously freaked out.
He was very, very wrong.
Because standing in front of him, wearing an expression that Harry knew was very identical to his own, was Harry Potter.
~*~
Part Two (if you haven't already run in shock ;p)
Author: k8matty
Pairing: Harry/everyone, Ron/Draco, Marcus/Oliver, Neville/Seamus, Fred/George, Lucius/Severus
Rating: N-17
Summary: When Harry receives a deeply disturbing story about himself and Professor Snape, his efforts to destroy it unwittingly send him forwards into the Fannonverse. Several highly-traumatizing sights and a quick stop to the Special Hell later, can Harry find the elusive, yet highly disturbed 'Kate' and return to his own world? Or will he be stuck in this never-ending orgy forever?
Warnings: Twincest, bondage, public!sex, and CRACK. So much pure, undiluted crack, I could sell it at $200 a hit. Mary Sue.
~*~
Harry mewled as spidery hands furrowed through his jet-black locks. The touch was unbearably light and had Harry panting like a bitch in heat, his cock tenting his trousers and his balls drawing up in anticipation.
“Sir…” Harry moaned, flicking a tongue out to catch a taste of one of those ivory fingers as it brushed teasingly over his lower lip.
“Silence, Potter.” Snape purred in a velvet voice as he slid his index and middle finger into Harry’s mouth. Harry sucked eagerly at his digits, delighting in the rough moan that issued from the older man.
“Coat them good.” Snape hissed warningly, and Harry groaned around the Potion Masters fingers as he realised which orifice Snape was intent of putting them next. Harry worked his mouth furiously, generating as much saliva as possible before Snape withdrew them, leaving Harry feeling pathetically disappointed.
Snape rubbed his wetted fingers together appreciatively, smirking as he nodded his head at Harry. “Turn around. And bend over.”
Harry obeyed, nearly falling arse over tail in his haste to spin around and fling himself over the nearest desk. Expecting Snape to breach him gently, one by one, Harry was shocked as two fingers were roughly shoved inside him. Harry arched, gasping as Snape pushed in deeper with no regard for Harry’s comfort, until his knuckles were pressing against his hole. Harry moaned, clenching around those fingers as Snape crooked them deliberately, clearly in search of Harry’s prostate. Snape knew he had found it when Harry bucked madly, and shouted “Fuck yes!”
Growling, Snape undid his trousers, withdrawing the hard length and aligning it with Harry’s hole.
“Fuck me!” Harry shouted, cock leaking precome all over the desktop. “Fuck m-”
Harry gagged on his sausages, coughing loudly and earning curious looks from everyone at the Gryffindor breakfast table.
“You alright, Harry?” Ron thumped his best mate hard on the back, peering over Harry’s shoulder to catch a glimpse at whatever had caused Harry to inhale half his breakfast.
He blushed all over and stuffed the offending document into his school-robe. “I’m fine!” He squawked, scrunching his fist around the letter in his pocket.
Ron gave him an odd look and went back to a far more interesting task than ascertaining Harry’s well-being in the form of stuffing his face full of egg.
Harry exhaled and reached for the envelope, fuming with humiliation that ignitined his cheeks with a soft red glow. Whoever had dared to send him this… this… filth would soon feel his wrath in its entirety.
The envelope had no return address, but the seal was in the shape of a small red square, across which Harry could make out the word ‘k8matty’, and a ghostly imprint of a woman.
“Nutjobs,” Harry muttered to himself, resolving to burn the nasty, evil little story the first chance he got, along with any other disgusting letters this ‘Kate Matty’ dared to plague him with.
~*~
Harry waited up that night, willing all the other Gryffindors to go to bed so he could carry out his task. The disgusting lies had weighed down his pocket all day, and yet he could not bring himself to throw it out, horrified at the very idea of someone finding, or worse reading, the mind-bogglingly sick scenario some deeply disturbed person had dreamed up between himself and Professor Snape.
Once the final student had gone to bed, Harry leapt from the red leather armchair and withdrew the paper, holding it at a distance between pinched fingers, as though it were something slimy and disgusting. Which, come to think of it, it essentially was.
With one last sneer worthy of his fictional counterpart, Harry dropped the abomination into the fireplace, where it was immediately consumed by heat and flames.
“Thank God,” Harry breathed, turning around to finally go to bed.
The next moment, Harry wanted to go to the bathroom. To throw up. To throw up violently and possibly gouge his eyes out, which was a perfectly sane response when one turned around to be instantly greeted with the sight of Fred and George, fucking on the sofa.
“Fuck yes, you love it!” Fred hissed, ploughing into the mirror image pinned beneath him.
Harry gaped in horror as George rolled his eyes back and keened for more; this was a joke, it had to be some kind of sick joke…
Harry couldn’t take it anymore. He hadn’t actually been all that good at taking it to begin with. He tore his eyes away from the nightmare in front of him and crawled through the portrait hole, cold sweat breaking over his brow. Oh god, how could he tell Ron?
“Ron…”
Yes, that’s right, Ron.
“Oh, Ron!”
…what the hell?
Harry slipped from the portrait hole and quickly righted himself so he could see who was moaning his best friend’s name like a mantra. Quite as soon as he had, he wished he hadn’t.
“Shit, shit Malfoy…” Ron panted, his hands scrabbling at the wall he was pressed against, pressed against by Draco Malfoy, who was panting in equal measure. The voracious expression across his bright-red face was one that Harry could quite happily go without ever, ever seeing again, and the same went double for the flushed prick sliding wetly in and out of his best friend’s arse.
Ron gurgled unattractively, and Harry retched as white ropes spurted over equally white fingers, long pale fingers that most certainly did not belong to Ron. Ron slumped forwards, a blissful look on his face, just as Malfoy pulled out of him with a revolting squelch.
The sight of Malfoy’s softening cock prompted Harry to turn and flee, as far away from this terrible scene as his shorter-than-average legs would allow. He ignored the initial burn in his sides as he barrelled down the marble staircase, never worrying for a moment that Filch might catch him thundering around the castle. He just had to get away, far far away.
He’d managed to reach the dungeons before his legs finally gave out, and he collapsed, breathing heavily against the wall. The stone corridor was silent but for the sounds of Harry’s panting. Or so Harry thought. For long after Harry had got his breath back, the sounds of his panting continued.
Harry tiptoed forwards, following the sound of heavy breathing. His psyche urgently reminded him of his mission to find a blunt object with which to smite his tainted brain cells, but Harry’s curiosity overwhelmed him as he found himself pushing open a very familiar looking door. The door to the potions lab, Harry reminded himself a fraction too late.
“Arrrrrgh!” Harry screamed, his mind finally snapping as the naked, writhing figures of Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape assaulted his vision. “ARRRGH!”
Snape and Malfoy stopped in their movements, movements that should not even be physically possible, yet alone performed by two of Harry’s most hated men on the planet. The men looked across the room at Harry, Lucius having to look upside down, for his head was lolling off the desk over which he was currently splayed and handcuffed. Snape, much to Harry’s horror, stood behind the desk, Malfoy’s legs over his shoulders. His tongue was currently pressed against one alabaster ankle, and his cock… oh God, not Snape’s cock, Harry whimpered internally.
“Potter.” Snape detached his mouth from the pale ankle and visibly sank further into Lucius’ body, eliciting a needy groan. “Will you be joining us? Fear not, Lucius can be very… accommodating.”
Harry thought about that for a moment.
“ARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Harry flung his arm over his eyes as though burning acid had been thrown in his face. He stampeded from the dungeon, in desperate search of an alcove in which he could cower. Such was Harry’s state that he’d yet to consider the ramifications of running full pelt down a corridor with ones vision obscured by ones forearm, and he therefore shouldn’t have been quite so surprised when he smacked rather painfully into a solid object.
“Ow!” the solid object protested. “Watch where you’re going, you idiot!”
Harry refused to stop shielding his eyes. “Are you naked?” he demanded, readying himself just in case.
“…um… no?”
Breathing a sigh of relief, Harry lowered his arm, grateful that for once tonight, he wasn’t about to be seriously freaked out.
He was very, very wrong.
Because standing in front of him, wearing an expression that Harry knew was very identical to his own, was Harry Potter.
~*~
Part Two (if you haven't already run in shock ;p)