Harry was having a bad dream. In his troubled head, he had just won the Quidditch Finals for his team and his school. On the field and in the stands it was a bright, sunny and grand day. Everyone was cheering for the champions, especially for "Harry! Harry! Harry!" Gryffindor banners were magically flying over the excited stadium. His team mates were carrying him high over their shoulders into the electrified air. As they neared the passage to the locker room, they got a little rough.

He had to push himself down so his head wouldn't be cracked against the doorway. Soon, things got worse. Without much care he was dropped to the floor then pushed along, until the team was in the locker room. Afraid to say anything, he turned to his locker and started to undress. He wished he had brought his invisibility cloak, as he could feel the angry stares behind his back. Too bad he couldn't just disappear and run away. Soon, he realized that he ran out of clothes and equipment to remove from his body which was covered in a cold sweat. He knew he had to go to the showers. Eventhough he just wanted to throw on his regular clothes and leave, Oliver Wood, the captain, would insist he showered.

"What's wrong?" he asked himself. "What did I do?" As he turned to face the group of naked strapping teenagers, he had a dreadful feeling he was about to find out.

The male members of Team Gryffindor stood up straight and coldly stared at Harry. To his horror, the young men of Team Slytherin came barging in from the shower area, wearing nothing but scrapes on a few limbs and scowls on their faces. He could hear the cheering of the stadium crowd, muffled by wood and stone, then it suddenly ceased. There was a moment of deathly silence. Harry was about to run into the hallway or cry or scream! He heard one or two of the showers turn on, then his captain finally spoke.

"Looks like the hairless wonder saved the day once again!" Wood sneered. "What do we think about that mates?"

Names and other nasty insults started flying at Harry, followed by dirty shirts and jockstraps. The boy cringed under the assualt, slowly sinking into a fetal position on the cold stone floor.

"Ron! Ron!" Harry whimpered. He thought if only his best friend were with him, together they could fight back.

"Ron's not comin' for ya, poor baby!" said Bletchley, the Slytherin keeper.

"Why can't we win without you, just once? Huh?!" asked Fred.

"Yeah, baldy, share a little of the glory!" yelled Wood. "For fifteen minutes, we were bustin' our arses and kickin' theirs, then BAM!" The teen slammed the side of his fist against his locker door. "You had to end the game. You had to end the season. Harry, or Hairless, had to have it all his way!"

Harry looked up as wagging, maturing genitalia moved closer to him from all directions. Up higher he could see big athletic arms twirling towels. Higher still, there were mean looking faces, faces that normally looked friendly, cute or wickedly lickable to Harry. "Wickedly lickable!" That's a phrase he borrowed from Ron. "Ron, where are you?" Harry thought as he shut his eyes tight.

He tried to summon a stern voice but half cried, "I am hairless, but it's not my fault!"

Fred and George replied in unison, "Be quiet, Ickle Dick!"

Towels started snapping with each sting accompanied by a shout of "Ickle Dick!." The twelve year-old shifted his arms and legs, trying to protect his naked abdomen, his neck, his face and most importantly his little boy penis and testicles.

"They wouldn't try to hurt me there, would they?" he silently pleaded to himself.

After a while the stinging towels stopped, only to be replaced by kicking feet and broomsticks poking him then digging into him. They dug into his skinny legs, into his thin biceps, even into his ribs that felt they were about to crack.

Harry wondered how he was going to finish the school year with his body being covered by bruises and scratches. His frail body that used to be a nice, lightly tanned color started to shake. He could hear himself crying. He could feel the warm tears seeping between his face and hands.

Suddenly, amidst the grunts and insults, there was an evil chuckle. Harry was engulfed by terror, and part of him, a big part, wished that the new sound meant a quick death. The other part wished for revenge. Someday he wanted to be the one standing over their whimpering bodies.

The feet left him alone, except for one. The toes wrapped around his ear, and the rest of the foot pressed his head cruelly to the dank, grey stone beneath.

"Please... please stop..."

Captain Oliver responded, "Stop? Why we're not even started! Right, chaps?"

The room filled with sniggers and laughs, but only for a few moments.

Harry felt something oily being poured on his neck, down his shoulders and arms. The hot pain told him what it was. It was the ointment the team used on sore muscles.

An anguished scream came out of the boy's mouth, but still there was no mercy shown to the naked champion seeker. The oil kept pouring down, in an excessive amount, over his back and down his legs. Except for his head and the parts he kept scrounched up, his body felt like it was sunburned and someone was pouring boiling water over it.

"The showers..." Harry groaned through his hands as he tried to lift his head and inch his way to the place with the cool tiles and cold water, but he felt the foot on his head press harder and two hands grab his ankles.

"Not quite yet!" Oliver said, as he twisted his foot on Harry's head.

Marcus, the Slytherin captian who had Harry's ankles, yanked them down exposing the main subject of the teenagers' insulting jokes. "Look! Harry's hiding a twig from his broomstick," he jeered.

"And me without my twig trimmer!" George said then laughed at his own joke.

"Hey! Those are the tiniest Golden Snitches I've ever seen, ha!" added Terance, the Slytherin seeker.

"Let's pour some right there, shall we?" asked Marcus. "Maybe, it needs to get hot before it starts sprouting hair."

"Grand idea, ol' chap" Oliver said then started to laugh.

Fred said, "They're not going to be golden for long. They'll be beet red in no time!"

The rest of the teens followed with their own laughter and encouragement for the continued torture.

Harry's hands shot out away from his face towards his endangered boyhood which was now, to his amazement and shame, erect to it's full three inches. Bletchley caught his wrists and pulled them away. Harry found himself stretched out between two Quidditch players who were just too strong.

His captain, who had released Harry's head from under foot, walked around to Harry's waist on the opposite side of where Terance stood with the ointment container. The crying boy could see through his tears that Oliver had a huge erection. It seemed to get longer and thicker as he looked down on his youngest player. Harry thought it must be at least twelve inches long! Were his tear filled eyes tricking him?

"This I've got to watch!" the Gryffindor captain declared as he knelt to study Harry's hardon in anticipation of the painful drowning it was going to get. "Maybe, I should pull back the skin for maximum eff...."

Harry was about to scream and keep screaming when he heard those words and saw Oliver's hand approaching his stiff prick, but just then the door burst open and Hagrid stepped in. Harry let out a sigh of relief.

Hagrid started, "Yeh boys ready fer a celebra..." He squinted his eyes, then he bared his lower teeth in disgust.

"Help! Hagrid, help me, please!" Harry shouted as he struggled to free himself.

Hagrid just shook his head and said, "Fer shame! A shameful spot fer a young wizard who was gonna be one o' the best. Fer shame." He turned around, stepped into the hallway and shut the door with an angry thud that almost broke it off the hinges.

Harry screamed for dear life, "Hagrid! Come back! Hagrid!" The hot oil came pouring down, but it was his best friend who was holding the large jug.

"Ron!" he cried out as he sat up in his sweat drenched bed in the dorm room he shared with Ron Weasly.

Ron slowly stirred under his blanket, pretending that he had been asleep. In the dim moonlight that filtered in, Harry could see Ron's arms and legs moving under his covers. The other beds were empty as only about one quarter of the students were on campus. It was twelve days before the regular school year began at Hogwarts, and selected students were taking special mini-courses. Ron turned to face his friend, he lifted his a head a little and finally asked, "Harry, did you say something?"

"Yes," said Harry. He sat and looked at the dim image of Ron's face, thinking of what more to say.

"Well? Is something wrong?" Ron asked then propped himself up on his elbow.

"I had a terrible nightmare," said Harry. He slowly shook his head then continued, "The Slytherin team was insulting me and beating up on me because..." His gaze moved from his friend. "They were beating me up because I don't have hair... down there."

"Well, don't get worked up about that! That's just plain silly!" Ron tried to assure his roommate but then felt guilty.

Just moments before he had heard the dreaming Harry call out his name the first time, Ron had lowered his pajamas to play with his four inch erection. When Harry had shifted in his bed, Ron had lifted his blanket, pointed his ivory penis to his sleeping friend, and whispered, "This is one category where Mr. Weasley is ahead of Mr. Potter."

"But that's not all," said Harry. "The guys on my team were there, too... even Fred and George called me... 'Ickle Dick' "

"What?! Where did you hear that before?" Ron sat up, and Harry noticed he was in bed bare chested, again.

"George really called me that in front of Fred, once. They both kind of smiled, but I told them not to call me that again."

"Then don't worry," Ron said. "They would never really hurt you." In his mind he said, "Good, looks like he doesn't know they've been calling me that!"

Harry was not convinced. "What if the dream means something? I don't think it was a real vision, but still it could be some sort of sign or warning."

"Like what?" asked Ron.

"What if something's wrong with me, naturally or magically? What if something or someone is keeping me as a little boy?"

"You mean it hasn't gotten any bigger over the summer?" Ron saw Harry shake his head, then asked, "Did your balls get bigger?"

"No, everything's the same" Harry said in a sad voice.

"Well, maybe, you just haven't noticed because you see it everyday." Ron pushed the blanket off his body. He noticed that a certain part of him was excited by the conversation then walked barefoot over the woven carpet to his friend's bed.

"I haven't seen it since... last February," said Ron as he recalled the last night they played with each other's dicks.

Harry recalled that night, too. That was the night when he and Ron had decided to get a good look at each other in the bright light of the bathroom as they didn't want to break the "lights out" rule in the sleeping area. Their other roommates had stayed sneaking from bed to bed in the dark, waiting for their turns at the bathroom. As they compared their boy parts, on that winter night, they both had noticed that Ron's cock and balls were bigger. Harry never played those games, again.

"All right, let's see it," Ron said as he stood by Harry's bed. "I bet I'll see something's bigger," he said in a supportive tone with a slight smile was on his face.

Harry stood up, reached for his glasses and put them on. As he put his thumbs in the waistband of his pajamas he asked, "Has yours... grown any?"

"Yes! It's..." Ron started excitedly, but then calmly continued, "It's a bit longer now."

The two friends pushed down their pajamas and briefs to their knees, from there they just slipped to their ankles. After a few moments of squinting in the moonlight, they both looked up and simultaneously said, "The bathroom!" Both boys stepped out of the clothes at their feet.

In a funny voice Ron repeated, "The bathroom!" and started giggling as he headed there. Harry couldn't help but giggle too as he saw the pale form of his naked friend leading the way. Ron shook his butt then disappeared through the dark doorway.

"Oh, Ron! You are so corny!" Harry stepped onto the cooler tiled floor and became a little nervous as he was reminded of his worrisome dream. He saw a dark figure that he hoped was Ron. He was about to turn on the light, when a gentle hand stopped him.

"First, let's take this off," Ron softly spoke as he unbuttoned the shirt of the smaller boy. He put his hands on Harry's chest, underneath the clothing, and slowly moved them up to Harry's shoulders. As Ron slipped the pajama top down to the floor, he heard Harry's breathing get louder.

Harry turned on the light then asked, "What was that all about?"

Ron looked to the wall then turned back to his friend's nervous but cute face. "I... I guess I just missed you, you know?"

A moment passed, then Ron took a step back, put the toilet cover down and seated himself. "Come here," he said to the stiff boyhood that was just below his eye level now.

As Harry moved forward, he noticed the muscles on Ron's smooth chest, on his arms and on his legs. He noticed the small bruise on one of his roommate's shins and wished he could make it feel better. He noticed the white rod, between Ron's legs, with the pink tip peeking out of a fold of skin. It was pointing up to the ceiling and casting a shadow over a pair of large, delicate marbles in a loose pouch.

Harry reached his destination and looked at Ron's knowing smile. "I'm glad you're still my friend," he said in his mind then wondered if he felt pride in their relationship or if it was love.

As Ron closely scrutinized his three inch hardon, Harry looked over his own torso, then past Ron's face to his own Quidditch toned legs. He flexed his arms and was happy to see the movement of his muscles. He was happy to realize that he was not the frail boy from his nightmare.

When Ron took hold of Harry's erection, he had to stifle a giggle. It must have startled his friend judging by the way the penis almost jumped out of his grasp and the "Oh!" that was almost a whisper. He continued the examination by moving the stiff boy dick up then down, then side to side. He similarly moved his head to see the subject from all angles. He glanced up to see that Harry had his eyes closed and his head turned slightly upwards.

Harry was feeling wonderful tingles that started in his little cock then flowed down his thighs and also up through his tight belly into his chest that seemed to feel the slight night breeze in an exciting, new way. He thought Ron was finished when he felt the hold on his erection relax, but then a new tingle passed through his naked body. Ron slowly slid his thumb and forefinger to the tip of his roommate's hardness. Harry opened his eyes and looked down to see the loose skin at the end of his dick being rubbed between two fingers. Ron's blank stare made Harry wonder if he was thinking about something else, but then he saw his friend's eyes focus, again.

Ron put his thumb under the cocklet to hold it up against Harry's smooth stomach. He brought his other hand to the small scrotum that was less than a foot away from his searching eyes. As he gently tumbled and rubbed the boy balls under the smooth skin, he had a feeling there was something different about his roommate's body. As he wondered what it could be, he took his hand away from Harry's silky pouch. He returned his attention to the loose foreskin. He asked himself if there was more of it or less than last February. Half consciously, he pulled back the skin just a bit. His left hand came up again to feel it in its new position. After a few rubs, he lowered his left hand and gently slid the soft skin all the way back. The glistening red glans caught his attention.

"Aaah! The air feels really cool there!" Harry said.

Ron wished that his friend would ask or demand that his exposed head be kissed. He tried to imagine how the full three inches would feel in his mouth. He told himself not to think of it, then started to help the foreskin back. He saw it! Harry's pouch was holding his balls more tightly than a minute ago! Ron gasped, "There!"

Harry jumped back as the breath on his uncovered glans caused a sensation that was too surprising. This time his penis did escape Ron's grasp.

"Wow!" Harry said, breathing hard. "Give me a warning next time will you?!" He smiled because it did feel wonderful and because Ron was smiling. "OK, there what? What is it? Come on, Ron!" He looked at his boyhood with the head covered up, again, then he looked at Ron's grinning face. "Please, Ickle Ronniekins," Harry said in a baby voice.

Ron tried to put on an angry face but failed. Grinning, he stood up and held out his hand, "Congratulations, Mr. Harry Potter! You are growing up!"

"What?" asked Harry as he put his hand out. Ron shook his hand, then gave his best friend a quick hug and pat on the back. They both noticed that they had left wet spots on each other. Pretending to be annoyed, Harry said, "Great, now we've spermed each other!" He smeared the clear slipperiness over his flat tummy and rubbed it in. "Ron, what do you know?"

Ron rubbed his friend's juice into his inner thigh, brushing his right nut with the back of his hand. He couldn't keep Harry squirming any longer. "Your balls, ol' chap. They're not bunched up like a little boy's, anymore! They're loose, or they were a few minutes ago." Ron chuckled. "Get it? They hang lower than a little kid's, almost as low as mine, and I'm fairly sure they're a bit bigger than the last time."

Harry smiled his most wickedly cute smile. "I see! Thank goodness!" He took a deep breath. "Thanks, Ron."

"No problem ol' boy. I mean man." Ron glanced down to Harry's privates. They both giggled. "Now, let's get some sleep."

Harry took a step towards the partly lit bed chamber then stopped. "No, I'm still... not sure of the whole thing." He could see Ron turn to him, somewhat concerned but also annoyed. "Right, I seem to be fine physically, but why did I have this terribly frightening dream? I felt... all these things and it all seemed so real."

"Because you were worried, I'd say," answered Ron. "What's so hard to understand?"

Harry picked up his shirt and started to put it on. Ron slipped into his briefs and pajama bottoms, wondering how much longer he would wear pajama bottoms. As Harry buttoned up, Ron picked up his roommate's clothes and passed them to him.

After Harry dressed, he just stood between the beds. Ron was going to turn off the bathroom light but went back to his friend's side and asked, "So what do you want to do, Harry?" He watched Harry's face until he looked up.

"I don't know if I have some bad charm on me or if somebody is trying to get a message to me. There has to be some way to find out without spending days or weeks researching in the library, and I sure as hell don't want to tell a Professor about my dream!" Harry shook his head.

Ron piped up, "Hey, lets ask the prefect!" He quickly found his pajama shirt .

"Have you gone mad?! I'm not going to tell your other brother about a dream with Fred and George! Ouch. Why'd you punch me?" Harry rubbed his shoulder and sat on his bed.

"Percy's not here, yet. Remember?"

Harry shook his head and said, "I'm sorry about calling you 'mad'. I forgot about that." He cheered up when he saw Ron step into the light and towards the door, gesturing for Harry to come along. "That Neil is supposed to be good with divinations, right?"

"Right. So, let's go... and get your dad's cloak."

"What if he's asleep?" Harry asked.

Ron skipped to the window, stuck his head out as far as safely possible and said, "Yes!" He ran to the door and shouted, "Hurry! His lights are on!"

Harry was puzzled by his friend's enthusiasm, but he smiled and asked, "Why are you so happy?"

"I don't know," Ron answered. "I guess because we're going to talk about sex with someone other than a Weasley!"

Harry laughed, as he remembered the story of how Ron found the twins "doing something with their really big willies." Fred and George had scared him so bad that he never mentioned sex to anyone in his family since.

Harry grabbed his invisibility cloak.