Harry Potter and the Odour of the Pheromones - Part 5

[magicbunbuns]

Harry Potter and the Odour of the Pheromones - By Kate's Brain and Magic of Isis



**

Harry was not in the mood to deal with Malfoy that evening, and yet he was going to have to put up with the annoying bastard for several hours. Several hours of being under Malfoy’s supervision. Not saying a word, Harry collected together a bucket of soapy water, a cloth and a scrubbing brush, and started to work, trying his best to ignore Malfoy completely.

It didn’t take Malfoy long to start interfering, and Harry bit his lip and continued to scrub at the desks as Malfoy leaned over to point out all the patches that he said Harry would have to do again. If only I had taken more of the potion, Harry thought, perhaps he wouldn’t be so damn irritating.

“You did say that you’d rather have detention,” Malfoy drawled over his shoulder. “You could always have both, you know.”

“Fuck you, Malfoy.”

“So, you’ve changed your mind then?”

Harry glared at him over the top of the bucket. He might have been open to the idea yesterday, but right now, with that arrogant look on Malfoy’s face, Harry was not about to give him the satisfaction.

“You might want to reconsider, Potter,” Malfoy said, smirking at the look of contempt that Harry threw in his direction. “After all, as a Slytherin, I’m always open to a bit of bribery and corruption if I serve to benefit from it. Do you want to make a deal?”

“A deal?” Harry asked, although he had a pretty good idea at what Malfoy was getting at. “What sort of deal?”

“You get down on your knees for me, and I’ll consider letting you use magic,” Malfoy said, and he illustrated his point with a flick of his wand, muttering a spell and deftly cleaning up the tools stacked on the front desk. “Snape won’t know any different.”

Harry was stunned that Malfoy actually had the gall to offer his help in exchange for sexual favours, but Harry was not going to lower himself to that. “Go find someone else to fill out your perverted fantasies, Malfoy: I’m not whoring myself out for you.”

Malfoy stared down at Harry with pure loathing before pulling up a chair to sit in a sullen silence as Harry continued to work. For the next half an hour, the only thing that could be heard was the sound of Harry cleaning with a determined effort so he could leave there as soon as possible. So far, all the desks had been scrubbed and there only remained five dirty cauldrons.

Malfoy had evidently grown impatient, and he started to pace the classroom, checking over all that Harry had done. Glancing up, Harry had a sudden rush of paranoia at the self-satisfied smirk that had appeared on Malfoy’s face. Harry paused briefly to watch as Malfoy peered into the dirty cauldrons. He saw Malfoy’s hand come to rest on the lip of one and start to rock it gently back and forth.

“This one is still half-full, Potter,” Malfoy said, raising his eyebrows mischievously. “It would be such a shame if-” A swift tug to the cauldron sent it toppling over, drenching several desks, the tools, and a couple of the cleaned cauldrons. “Oops. Guess you’ll have to clean them all again.”

Their eyes met, and Harry knew that Malfoy was going to continue prolonging his detention until Harry agreed to do what Malfoy wanted, or until Snape returned to find the workroom still in a mess.

“Fine!” Harry snapped, feeling the anger swell up inside him. He stood up and pushed Malfoy against the wall. “But before I do anything, all of this has got to be spotless.”

Malfoy frowned. “Oh yeah, and what’s to stop you from walking out once it’s all been done?”

“Don’t be so obtuse, Malfoy; I know full well you’d mess it up again the instant I left.”

“What’s stopping me from doing that anyway?” Malfoy asked, with another smug expression plastered across his face.

“The knowledge that this will definitely be the last chance you’ll ever have to get my mouth around your cock,” Harry said, leaning closer so their faces were only a hair’s breadth apart. Reaching down, Harry rubbed the front of Malfoy’s trousers, feeling Malfoy’s cock begin to stiffen. “You’ll enjoy this, and if you screw me over afterwards, any opportunity you might have for…second helpings, you can kiss goodbye.”

“You’re sure of yourself, aren’t you, Potter,” Malfoy said, and he pushed his hips up to press against Harry’s hand more firmly. “You think you’re that good?”

“You’ll have to let me clean this up with magic first,” Harry said, motioning to the mess in the classroom with his free hand, “if you want to find out.”

He had yet to give anyone a blow job, but Harry was sure he could improvise well enough. George and Remus had given him two memorable experiences that he could draw from, and he began to harden at the thought of what each of them had done to his cock. And if Malfoy did choose to welsh on the deal, Harry would use the potion to make sure Malfoy wanted him so badly that he’d regret his decision. He leant in, as if he was going to kiss Malfoy, but at the last moment, he gave a quick squeeze of his hand before moving away and drawing his wand.

It only took him a few seconds to clean everything. Malfoy watched him, leaning against Snape’s desk, his hands resting either side on the wooden surface.

“Come on then, Potter; show me just what a good little whore you can be.”

Pocketing his wand, Harry stepped closer, reaching out to unbuckle Malfoy’s belt. He tried to ignore the fact that he was quite turned on by Malfoy’s words, even though they also left him wanting to punch the boy. He undid the button at the top of Malfoy’s trousers and slowly pulled the zip downwards so that each individual click could be heard. Flicking his eyes up, he found Malfoy looking at him in awe and breathing heavily. Another click and Malfoy’s hands were suddenly entwined in Harry’s hair, pulling him forwards for a bruising kiss.

As the zip lowered and their kiss deepened, Harry could feel Malfoy’s cock jutting out and brushing against his hands; Malfoy had nothing on underneath, and this knowledge sent a shiver up Harry’s spine. When the zipper reached its lowest point, Harry gave the trousers a tug to send them falling to the floor. He ran a thumb along the underside of Malfoy’s cock, prompting Malfoy to gasp around his mouth in response. Wrapping his hand fully around Malfoy’s cock, Harry began to stroke it, hoping that he might get away with a hand job, but Malfoy instantly tugged on Harry’s hair, pulling his head back. Malfoy raised his eyebrows and then pointedly looked down. There was no escaping what Harry had to do next.

Reluctantly, he sunk to his knees, Malfoy’s hands still entangled in his hair. Just in case Malfoy had any idea about fucking his mouth properly, Harry kept one hand in place around the base of Malfoy’s cock; that way Malfoy wouldn’t be able to force too much into his mouth. Harry stared at the erection that was only inches away from his face, fuming that he had been reduced to doing this just to get through his detention. He fully intended to get Malfoy back at a later date; he could drink a whole bottle - or even two - of potion and make Malfoy beg to be fucked into the floor by him.

He started with light flicks of his tongue across the head, letting himself get used to the taste, and tried to see the positive side of what was happening: never having done this before, it was good to have someone to practice on whom he didn’t care about. Harry then went on to press smacking kisses along the length as he squeezed rhythmically with his hand. Hearing Malfoy’s groans of pleasure spurred Harry on, and he did his best to get this over and done with, and make him come as quickly as possible.

Sliding his other hand up the inside of Malfoy’s thigh to toy with his balls, Harry sucked gently on the end of Malfoy’s cock and began to stroke it, faster and faster, back and forth in time with his mouth bobbing over the head.

“Oh, God, Potter!”

When he felt Malfoy’s hips begin to jerk, Harry tried to draw back with the intent of finishing him off by hand, but he couldn’t move his head away: Malfoy had tightened his grip in Harry’s hair, using it to keep his head firmly in place.

“Oh no you don’t, Potter,” Malfoy said as Harry winced at the tug on his scalp. “I’m going to come in your mouth.”

He was definitely going to make Malfoy regret this. In defiance, Harry let his teeth catch on the edge of Malfoy’s foreskin, but he instantly regretted his action when it triggered Malfoy’s orgasm.

Harry gagged around Malfoy’s cock as spurts of bitter-tasting come filled his mouth. The instant Malfoy finished coming and had released his hold on Harry’s head, Harry pulled away, spitting the contents of his mouth onto the floor. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand in disgust.

“Clear that up, Potter, and you can go,” Malfoy said, retrieving a cloth from the table and throwing it on the floor in front of Harry.

Harry scowled at Malfoy’s look of post-orgasmic bliss and picked up the cloth. He quickly cleared the mess and put away the cleaning equipment, not wanting to stay there any longer than necessary.

“Potter,” Malfoy called out just as Harry was leaving. “I’ll be looking forward to those ‘second helpings’ you promised.”

Just you wait, Harry thought. You won’t know what’s hit you.

**

At breakfast the following morning, Harry was pleased to see that Malfoy appeared uncomfortable with what had happened. Several times, Harry caught Malfoy gazing in his direction with a frown. Malfoy would then turn away, refusing to make eye contact with Harry and shifting awkwardly in his seat.

As he was eating, two owls arrived for Harry. One brought a letter from Sirius and Remus that said the twins had been asking awkward questions and had made out they knew more than they did. But Sirius and Remus had rightly guessed that Harry wouldn’t have given them any details. The second was from Fred and George. Harry groaned; even though they hadn’t been told what had happened, it was clear they knew that Remus had made some sort of sexual advance towards Harry, and they were determined to find out exactly what had occurred.

Harry then shuddered as he read the rest of their letter; they suggested he might want to consider testing the potion on other magical beings and to let the twins know if he had the same “problems”. Despite the insinuation - made in jest, or so Harry hoped - that Hagrid, being a half-giant, or one of the Hogwarts’ house elves could be likely candidates, at least the twins hadn’t tried to blackmail him into further experimentation.

To Harry’s surprise, that day’s lessons were spent revising previous work and no homework was given out. There was no Quidditch practise due for that evening, either, and Ron had fully recovered from his broken nose. So tonight, without fail, would be the night; he was going to seduce Ron.

After dinner, Harry showered and dressed, downing three-quarters of a vial of potion before walking down to the common room with the intention of whisking Ron away to the Room of Requirement. He had barely said Ron’s name to get his attention when Professor McGonagall came striding into the room, looking very displeased.

“Why are none of you in the Great Hall?” she asked, addressing everyone in the room. When she was greeted with a sea of confused expressions, she added, “The talk on Gringotts, for work experience?”

The students continued to look at her blankly, and she searched through the faces to find one in particular. Fixing her gaze on Hermione, she said, “Miss Granger, did you not inform your housemates? I asked you over a week ago to write up a summary and put it on the common room notice board.”

“I’m sorry, Professor, but are you sure it was me you asked?” Hermione said, clearly not having a clue what McGonagall was talking about.

“Yes!” McGonagall looked at her sternly. “Really, Ms. Granger; I’m being to wonder if you’re taking on too much work again. We need to have a talk about the subjects you are doing and consider whether there are any that you could drop.”

“I’m fine, Professor, honestly!” Hermione pleaded, looking horror struck at the thought of having to give up a subject. “I… I just forgot. I’m, er, sorry, Professor.”

McGonagall tutted in disappointment and spoke again to the rest of the room. “Never mind. Everybody in the sixth year, please go down to the hall; the rest of the school is waiting for you so we can begin.”

On the way down the stairs, Harry exchanged a guilty glance with Seamus; they both guessed what had happened. Hermione had probably been told shortly before Seamus had obliviated her. It was their fault she hadn’t done what McGonagall had asked her.

“What’s up with you, not remembering something like that?” Ron asked Hermione.

She sighed in frustration and said, “I don’t know, but I honestly can’t remember being asked to do it - this talk is as much a surprise to me as everyone else, but Professor McGonagall wouldn’t be wrong about who she asked...”

“She might; she might just be getting dotty in her old age.”

Hermione stopped walking for a moment and rubbed at her temples.

“Hermione, are you all right?” Harry asked.

“I’ve got a bit of a headache, that’s all,” she said and then looked up at him with a grimace. “Harry, you really need to have a wash.”

They entered the Hall, and Harry found himself being pulled to the front by the other Gryffindor boys; as it was Ron’s brother, Bill, who was giving the talk, Ron was keen to sit in the first row so he could say hello. In the end, Harry was squished between Seamus and Neville. Ron was stuck on the end, and he didn’t look happy, which left Harry worried that it meant Ron felt uncomfortable by the effect of the potion. Hermione made a point of sitting further back, away from Harry, as did all the other girls who were originally sitting nearby.

The sixth years were all expected to undertake some form of work experience over the summer holidays, and this was the first of a series of talks they would be getting concerning the options available to them. Bill explained the variety of work carried out by Gringotts, the selection of work experience positions that were available and how each of those positions could be useful in other areas of the Wizarding world.

Throughout the talk, Harry found that Bill’s eyes were constantly flicking back to where Harry was sitting, only feet away. Harry smiled to himself, not paying attention to anything that was being said. With his long hair and dangling earring, Bill was too much of a distraction; Harry had had a crush on him ever since they’d first met at The Burrow.

Harry’s thoughts were brought out of the gutter, though, when Dumbledore rose to address the sixth years.

“The next talk will be about the sorts of jobs involved within a Quidditch team, with regards to the paperwork and maintenance of the grounds, and work of a similar nature. Please keep an eye on your notice boards: more details will be posted there nearer the time.”

Standing up to leave, Harry felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Bill.

“Harry, could I have a word?”

Harry nodded and prised himself away from the others, telling them he’d join them in the common room shortly.

“Some of these work experience placements won’t be suitable,” Bill explained to Harry, “as they won’t be able to offer you adequate protection. But you won’t have to worry about that at Gringotts.”

Harry really wasn’t too bothered by the thought of doing work experience at Gringotts, preferring the idea of working for a Quidditch team - even though he knew whatever he’d be doing wouldn’t involve flying. But he guessed, sadly, that there was no chance of that happening: he couldn’t see how Dumbledore would be able to organise the necessary safeguards.

“Thanks for letting me know,” he said, noticing that they were standing less than a foot apart and Bill had started to breathe quite heavily. “It’s good to see you haven’t taken your mum’s advice and chopped your hair.”

“Oh, so you do like it; you managed to side-step the question when Mum asked you about it last year.”

“Yeah, I do like it…a lot, and the earring,” Harry felt a sudden thrill at being able to flirt openly with Ron’s oldest brother. Even though Bill was firmly attached to Fleur Delacour, there was no reason why Harry couldn’t have a bit of harmless fun before he went back up to Gryffindor Tower. “I think they’re both very…appealing,” he added with a suggestive smirk.

“Are you coming on to me, Harry Potter?” Bill asked, the corners of his lips twitching upwards.

“Do you mind?” Harry asked innocently, knowing that some part of Bill was enjoying this; the potion made sure of that.

“Not at all.” Bill shook his head in amusement. He looked thoughtful for a moment and then added in a whisper, “In fact, if you’re interested, would you like to come back with me tonight?” He smiled nervously. “Fleur keeps pestering me to invite another man into our bed - so she can watch - but I’ve never felt the inclination…until today. We’re staying at The Three Broomsticks, and I’m sure I could smuggle you out of the castle for a few hours.”

“I…er,” Harry mumbled; he certainly wasn’t expecting to do so well with the flirting. Damn, he wanted Bill, but he still had high hopes for Ron that night. Perhaps, he could keep Bill in reserve, just in case Ron wasn’t available. “I’ve got to go back to the dormitory, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to get back out without the others noticing. Wait for me in the Entrance Hall. If I can come, I’ll be there in ten minutes.” He walked towards the doors and then stopped, turning round to add, “If I don’t make it, I’ll send you an owl; perhaps, we can arrange it for another night.”

When he arrived back in the common room, Harry found the others sitting around a board game that was reminiscent of the Muggle game Monopoly. It was the Goblin’s equivalent and had been mentioned during the talk; Bill had left a stack of games at the back of the hall for anyone to use. They had already starting playing, and Harry was disappointed to see that Ron was thoroughly engrossed.

“You can still join in, Harry,” Seamus said, moving over so that Harry could sit next to him.

“Nah, I’m tired,” Harry said. He left them to play and went upstairs, putting on his Invisibility Cloak and closing the curtains around his bed before making his way down to the Entrance Hall.

He found Bill fidgeting by the front doors; it looked as if Bill was contemplating the idea of backing down on his offer. As Harry drew close, under his Cloak, he heard Bill muttering to himself, “What am I doing? God…I can’t.”

A pebble made contact with Harry’s shoe and rolled away to clatter across the stone tiles. Bill snapped his head up, looking around for the source of the noise.

“It’s me,” Harry said by Bill’s shoulder, making him jump. Harry then pulled open the Cloak so that Bill could see him and smiled, stepping closer to let the potion take its effect on Bill once more.

They wandered down to The Three Broomsticks together in silence. Although the thought of having Fleur watch them was a bit unsettling, Harry was surprised that the idea did not repulse him; if anything, it was rather titillating.

Bill opened the door to his room, and Harry saw Fleur curled up on a chair reading, wearing blue silk pyjamas.

“’allo Bill,” she said fondly, placing her book on the floor. “’Ow did it go at ‘ogwarts?”

“Okay… Um, Fleur…I’ve… I’ve found someone,” Bill said. “You know you said you wanted to see me with another man. Well…anyway, you remember Harry Potter?”

Harry stepped forward and pulled off the Cloak.

“Ah, yes, ‘allo ‘arry.” Harry winced when he saw her nose begin to wrinkle; in his enthusiasm, he had forgotten about how Fleur would react to the potion. “What is zat smell?”

“That would be me,” Harry said awkwardly, and Bill looked at him with a curious frown. “It’s a potion that I’m testing for Fred and George - to repel women. But they did a spell on Hermione before, so she couldn’t smell anything…”

“Okay,” Bill said, still frowning at Harry, and he cast the necessary charm on Fleur.

“I watch you tonight, yes?” Fleur asked.

“Oui,” Bill said shyly, his eyes boring deep into Fleur’s. His delicate lips parted ever so slightly around the word, and Harry found himself wondering what it would be like to have someone muttering in French in his ear; it wouldn’t matter what they said, as he wouldn’t understand it, but he was sure the sound would turn him on.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Bill said, looking up at Harry. “Do you want one?”

“No. I had one just after dinner.”

Bill disappeared into the bathroom, and Harry sat on the edge of the bed, not knowing what to say to Fleur. She smiled sweetly at him and started to talk about working for Gringotts, asking if Harry was interested. He sighed with relief at having such a neutral topic to discuss and was busy chatting with her about Goblins by the time Bill joined them.

Apart from a small towel that was wrapped around his waist, Bill was naked. Harry could see that Bill was already hard by the way the towel jutted out at the front. Harry licked his lips in anticipation as Bill dried his hair with his wand and fixed it into a ponytail. Looking at all that skin, Harry suddenly felt overdressed. He’d never seen a real man’s chest before; when he had been with Remus and Sirius, they had both kept their shirts on. It was much broader than any of the boys’ in his dorm, but it was just as smooth as Neville’s. He briefly wondered if Sirius and Remus were built the same way.

Noticing that Fleur was looking at them both expectantly, Harry stood up and kissed Bill.

Bill was hesitant at first, like Neville, but far more experienced in his movements. He soon began to kiss Harry with more enthusiasm, though, and Harry pulled him close, pressing their bodies together, letting their cocks grind against each other through towel and fabric. As he kissed up Bill’s neck, gently taking Bill’s fang earring in mouth and swiping his tongue across the earlobe, Harry realised that Bill smelt just like Ron did whenever he was fresh from the showers; it was very easy to close his eyes and imagine for a moment that it was Ron.

Together, they stumbled towards the bed, falling onto it, their lips never breaking contact. Bill slipped his hands under Harry’s shirt, his arms getting in the way as Harry fumbled to undress himself.

“Look at ‘arry’s cock, Bill,” Fleur said once Harry was naked and Bill’s towel discarded on the floor. “I gezz ‘arry izn’t a leetle boy any longer, eh?” Startled, Harry’s head jerked up in her direction, where she was still sitting; he had completely forgotten she was in the room. “Touch ‘im. Play wiz ‘im.”

Bill looked unsure as he got to his knees and stared down at Harry’s naked body. Harry then realised that Fleur wouldn’t be able to see any of the action if they remained where they were; he scooted up the bed and lay back on the pillows, spreading his legs wide and patting the space next to him so that Bill would approach him from the side. Lying there for Bill’s perusal and having both Fleur and Bill looking at him, Harry felt very exposed, and it excited him thoroughly. He spread his legs a little wider. Harry was shocked by how much he wanted Fleur to see every little detail - just as he had wanted Fred to watch him and George in Hogsmeade.

He gasped as Bill reached over to trace his hand tentatively down Harry’s chest, across his stomach, and then along the line of dark hair, towards his groin. His touch was feather-light, his fingers skirting the sides of Harry’s cock, dipping lower to cup his balls and then back up to wrap them around Harry’s cock, which jerked in his hand.

“Bill…” Fleur said, her voice starting to sound husky, “wiz your mouth…”

Harry looked up at Fleur. Her eyes were now heavy lidded, never straying from Harry’s crotch and the attentions that Bill was paying to it; her mouth parted slightly, letting out soft breaths. He could see one of her hands underneath her pyjama top, its outline moving under the silky material as she massaged her breast; her other hand slid down the front of her trousers.

His attention was tugged back to the bed as Bill ran quivering lips along his cock, and Harry had to restrain himself from arching up at the painfully delicate touch; he certainly didn’t want to put Bill off by jabbing him in the eye. Bill’s pony tail fell down on the side of his face, the tips of it draping over Harry’s belly, drawing a moan from Harry’s lips. Curling his hands in the sheets to resist the temptation of just grabbing Bill’s head and forcing him down, Harry wondered for a moment whether Bill really felt as timid as he seemed, or if he knew exactly how mercilessly he was teasing Harry.

“’arry, what does eet feel like?” Fleur asked.

“It’s good… really good,” Harry panted, “but… I need more… firmer… harder. More decisive.”

“Zen show ‘im ‘ow it’s done.”

They changed places and Harry leant over to take Bill deeply into his mouth, pressing his tongue firmly against the flesh. Bill let out a heavy groan as Harry started to move his head and suck harder. Then he ran a hand under Bill’s thigh, drawing the leg up and out, and he shifted over to hook the leg across his back. Bill gave a startled gasp when Harry pressed a soft kiss to his entrance followed by a probing tongue.

“Do you want to fuck my lover, ‘arry?”

“Yes,” Harry murmured against Bill’s skin.

“Zen get on your ‘ands and knees, Bill,” Fleur ordered breathlessly. “Let me see ‘arry prepare you.”

Bill complied immediately, shivering in anticipation. Using the lubrication spell that Neville had taught him, Harry knelt to one side and began running his finger slowly up and down the crack of Bill’s arse, pausing to run small circles across Bill’s entrance, before finally sinking his the tip inside. Bill whimpered as Harry pushed the finger further and further inwards, then adding a second, slowly stretching him.

By the time he had his cock pressed against Bill, Harry was almost ready to come. He looked up, catching movement out of the corner of his eye; Fleur was moving her chair to the side of the bed and had retrieved a long, cock-shaped object from the drawer in the process. She tapped her wand on it, muttering, “Vibratio,” before slipping it down the front of her trousers. Going by the look on her face, Harry reckoned that that was a spell worth remembering.

He pushed forwards, easing into Bill and concentrating hard not to just drive inwards forcefully, as Remus had done. He was so close…too close; there was no way that this was going to last long. Fully sheathed, he leant forward to drag his tongue up Bill’s spine and began to move his hips, moaning softly. At the same time, he reached round and worked at Bill’s cock with his hand, following the same rhythm as his thrusts. It was only seconds before all three of them were coming, one after the other.

Bill and Harry slumped onto the bed together, Harry rolling onto his back and looking up as Fleur joined them to lie up against Bill.

“Are you staying, ‘arry?” she asked.

“No,” he said. Watching the way Bill and Fleur’s bodies were now pressed together, Harry couldn’t help but feel like he was now intruding on their privacy. “I should be getting back to the castle.”

He stood and dressed, smiling when Bill pulled him back for one last kiss. Having sex with Weasleys was starting to become addictive, but hopefully, the next Weasley he had the chance to get intimate with would be Ron.

**

Yet, another week passed with no opportunity to get Ron alone. It was dinnertime and the other Gryffindors were talking about challenging the Hufflepuffs to a game of Goblin’s monopoly, after having gained permission to use one of the classrooms for this. Only half-listening to the conversation, Harry was immersed in his Transfiguration text-book; he was now using every spare moment to keep up with his homework in the hope that it would provide more time to seduce Ron.

“Are you finished yet, Harry?” Ron asked.

Harry looked up to find the rest of them with empty plates. He closed his book and hurriedly ate the rest of his dinner.

“What’s the rush?” he asked as he stood up, slinging his bag over one shoulder.

“The game with the Hufflepuffs,” Seamus said. “Are you going to join in?”

Harry responded with a noncommittal shrug. He knew that Ron would want to go, but if he could take the potion and get Ron on his own beforehand, Harry might be able to persuade him to do otherwise. But Harry needed a shower, first, and he opted against taking the potion immediately when Seamus said he would be taking a shower, as well; Harry didn’t want to get waylaid by Seamus’s Irish charms.

After he had finished washing, Harry was dismayed to find Ron waiting by the door, ready to go. There was no way Harry would be able to drink a vial of potion without Ron noticing.

“Go ahead without me,” Harry said, slumping down on the bed. “I don’t fancy playing.”

He felt frustrated and annoyed that his plans had been ruined, yet again. But his mood began to brighten when he realised there was someone he could take it out on: Malfoy. The Slytherins were having Quidditch practise today, and if Harry picked his moment right, he could pin Malfoy down in the changing rooms. He took out one vial and drank it; then he smiled slyly and reached for a second, drinking half of it. He wanted to make sure that Malfoy would be on his knees begging Harry for sex. But just as he was ready to leave, he heard a loud crack, and he turned to see Dobby standing next to his bed and holding his Transfiguration text-book.

“Harry Potter left his book in the Hall,” Dobby said, walking forward to hand him the book. “Dobby wished to return it, sir.”

“Thanks, Dobby,” Harry said, and he did a double-take at the expression on Dobby’s face. Dobby was looking at him strangely - more strangely than was usual for the wide-eyed house elf - and this reminded Harry of what Fred and George had written in their last owl about Hagrid and…house elves. “Are you okay, Dobby?” he asked tentatively.

“Yes, sir; Dobby is most happy serving at Hogwarts. And Dobby wishes to make Harry Potter happy, too.”

Dobby reached up with a spindly hand to touch the fabric of Harry’s trousers, just above his knee, and Harry jumped backwards in shock. “Dobby, what are you doing?”

“Would sir prefer it if Dobby looked different?” Dobby said, stepping forward once more. “Dobby knows how much Harry Potter wants his Wheezy. Dobby can become Harry Potter’s Wheezy.”

Harry’s jaw dropped as Dobby clicked his fingers and instantly transformed into the likeness of his best friend. Slowly, the false image of Ron approached, and Harry’s mind reeled. Dobby wanted to have sex with him of some description, but as Ron. Harry could finally experience what it would be like to touch him, to hold him, to have Ron hold him back - and he didn’t have to worry about the others coming up to the dormitory for ages. But it wasn’t Ron; it was Dobby. He felt sick at the thought at becoming intimate with a house elf, and then he thought of the effect on Remus Lupin and wondered whether Dobby would accept it if he were to say no. And yet, Ron’s face was so close…

“Does Harry Potter want this?” Dobby said in Ron’s voice.

Hearing what were unmistakeably Dobby’s words coming from Ron’s mouth jarred him. What did he want? Could he really do this?

Continue to Part 6