This work is a parody of J.K Rowling's Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, and it is not endorsed by either J.K. Rowling or her publishers. As a parody, this work is protected under the Fair Use Doctrine.
The characterizations in this work deviate significantly from the original, and this does not imply these characterizations exist in the original work. The author received no financial compensation or endorsements for the production of this work.
All characters in this story are fictional. This story depicts sexual acts between consenting minor males. This story is meant for entertainment purposes only and in no way reflects reality. Please be aware of local laws or ordinances that may prohibit the reading of such material.
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The new term at Snogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry already began, and Harry remained on his his elbows and knees as he panted. Ron flopped over onto his back, making the bed jostle yet again. Harry grinned at his copper-headed friend from under his arm. Ron smiled his wide, toothy smile. From the other side of the room, they both heard Séamus snort with amusement. It appeared Neville slept through Harry and Ron's energetic and noisy session. Dean's bed sat unoccupied. The area around them stank like sex. Proof lay in the fact a small river of semen already flowed from Harry's anus down to his scrotum.
"Doing alright, mate?" Ron spoke as his chest continued to heave. "Hope that helped you forget about your rotten summer and the cock-up at the World Fappitch Finals."
"Couldn't be better, Ron, and it did help," Harry answered. "Gonna be a while before I sit down proper.
Séamus snorted again. Ron smirked and chuckled. Neville snored.
"What about you and Colin?" Séamus asked even though he continued to giggle.
"Little git can't last five minutes once I start to poke him," the muscular teenager complained. "Got a nice johnson for a third year, I'll give him that. Just wished he knew how to use it better."
"Ever been with Draco?" Harry inquired as he tried to figure out how to lay on his back without smearing a gallon of Weasley cream all over his bed. He reached over and grabbed a shirt one of them tossed toward the head of the bed.
"Slag off, Harry. I'd never even think about snogging with one of them worm dicks. There's a reason why their house crest is snake."
Séamus let out with a bark of laughter.
"Just `cause you did Draco one time doesn't mean the rest of us need to lower our standards," Ron concluded.
"Get bent," Harry rejoined as he padded his bum with the shirt and gingerly turned over onto his backside. His left leg slid along Ron's right one. He looked down the length of their bodies. Ron's semi-turgid penis still looked as thick around as his wrist.
"Describe it for me again, Harry," Séamus blurted out the request between laughs.
"Sad really, when you think about it. I mean, he hangs down -- what? -- maybe two, three centimeters, and it only grows to ten... maybe ten and a half if he's really in a randy mood. And his bullocks look like they're two marbles in an old pair of stockings. Look, even a goat would be ashamed."
Séamus' guffaws boomed across the room. His bed squeaked as he kicked his legs in the air. Ron's barking laugh reverberated around them. Neville gave no sign of achieving consciousness. Harry glanced at the sleeping roommate.
"Wouldn't mind having a go with him," he intoned as he jerked his head in Neville's direction.
"Think it's true `bout `im being all into girls and stuff? Think he's ever had sex with one?" The Irish teenager openly queried.
"Hard to say. I heard Pansy Parkinson likes it with boys, but... well, who knows what a Slytherin really likes," Ron replied.
"Remember what Dumbledore said: we've got to be kind to the weirdos of the school. Not their fault they're like that. It's just the way they're born. Look at your brother Percy, Ron," Harry countered.
"Percy's a prat!"
"So you really do have a breeder brother, Ron?" Séamus said and sat up in his bed.
"Well, every family's got a black sheep in it, doesn't it? Mum was so embarrassed when he finally admitted it, but Dad wasn't too hard on him though. Like Harry said: not really his fault, is it?" Ron responded, and Harry admired how he took the high road at the moment.
In the dimly lit octagonal room holding five beds, silence settled for a moment. The wizarding world, like the muggle world, struggled to explain why some people turned out to be exclusively heterosexual or even bi-sexual. It seemed to defy all logic. Men naturally understood what men enjoyed and wanted. Women naturally understood what women enjoyed and wanted. It puzzled Harry to think a guy would know the first thing about what a woman liked. His cousin Dudley showed signs of being a breeder, but Harry suspected the corpulent kid to be bisexual or simply found it hard to attract guys. He could not imagine what his aunt and uncle would do if Dudley turned out to be a full breeder. They would likely blame him.
"Got a second cousin on me dad's side what turned out to be a breeder. He's a muggle living over in Galway, and it didn't go too well for him. Most everybody thought he was mental. I heard some blokes almost beat him to death a couple of times," Séamus quietly told them, and they respected the somber tone he used.
"You know muggles used to burn `em at the stake?" Ron stated.
"So? We stuffed them away in Bangabang Prison," Harry retorted. "You think that place is any better than being burned alive?"
A hushed settled over the roommates. Bangabang Prison held all sorts of modern wizarding criminals. In the past, heterosexual witches and wizards got sent there in an effort to make them normal by conventional standards. The guards, strange humanoid creatures called Dementeds, would have sex with the prisoners until they either learned to like it or died. Few ever left the prison alive according to history books. Only in the last fifty years did the wizarding world finally stop the practice. No one could guess how many thousands of men and women met their demise in the confines of the prison.
"Dean says we shouldn't let them run around free. Says all they try to do is to get to children and corrupt them... make them breeders when they're young," Séamus informed them.
"Where is he anyway?" Ron asked and looked at them empty bed.
"Probably down in one of the dungeons with Eddie," the lone Irishman among them said.
"Better hope Felch doesn't catch them," Harry opined.
Séamus shook his head and asked: "What's that old limpy going to do?"
"You know Dumbledore gave him that sagging potion. Dean won't be able to get it up for a month if he gets a dose," Ron stated the rumor they all heard.
"His own fault, really," Harry muttered.
After half a minute of quiet contemplation, Harry nudged Ron's leg with his own. His best friend and roommate glanced at him.
"Got enough in you to give me a sip?" He asked.
"Sorry, mate. Spent," Ron said and shook his head. "You got too bleeding good of an arse there to leave anything left over."
"I could give you a top off, Harry. Didn't get much time with Stew tonight `fore they called lights out," Séamus offered.
"You're the best!" Harry said as he started to sit up.
He bounded out of his bed as Ron began to laugh and rolled out of it as well. Harry pranced over to Séamus' bed where the teenager threw back his covers. Like most of the dorm-mates, Séamus rarely slept with nightclothes on unless the winter proved exceptionally cold. His pecker already stood up in the air, the base hidden in a nest of dark hair. Harry licked his lips as he crawled into the inviting bed and between the white thighs of Séamus. In all his fourteen years he never understood why he wanted to guzzled down as much semen as he could following a boisterous round of sex. Ron drilled him so hard with his thick member Harry came while barely touching himself. Thus, he looked forward to orally pleasuring Séamus.
The next morning Harry woke up at the crack of dawn, much against his will, to the sounds of Neville bringing himself to orgasm. He spied on his roommate who lay with his sheets thrown to one side and dick in hand. Harry thought Neville possessed one of the most beautifully proportioned organs in Gryffindor. It looked the perfect length with the perfect girth, and the foreskin did not quite cover the sloping head and glans when erect. As he watched, Harry's hand slid down to his now pulsing erection. He stroked himself under the covers while Neville pulled on the stiff pole in his hand. The once pudgy teenager's cock glistened at the tip from the small amount of pre-ejaculate that oozed out. Harry's tongue slid over his lips in desire. His eyes, however, got drawn to the meaty testes that bounced around in Neville's slowly tightening scrotum. It seemed the young man would not last much longer.
A few minutes later Harry felt his body buck and heave as his dick vomited out a new load of spunk. Within thirty seconds a wild spray of semen burst from Neville. It splattered all over the teenager's pajama top and bedding. Through it all, Neville furiously pounded on his now pink and very swollen erection. Jizz flew from it, and the overall quantity impressed Harry to no end. Over twenty seconds passed before Neville let out with a long sigh and sat back in his bed. The sunlight that began to stream into their tower chamber sparkled on the dozens of secretion droplets. Neville appeared as though he rested in some magical fairy land. Harry smiled.
"Nice one, Neville," he said loudly enough to be heard but not to wake the others.
"Shut up," Neville grumbled, but his mouth twitched into smirk while his cheeks turned a vivid pink.
Shortly thereafter the other boys rose, and to a person they all commented it smelled like fresh semen in the room. Neville dressed and left the tower while his cheeks glowed crimson. Harry made note of the event that morning. He began to suspect Neville liked the fact Harry watched, and it boded well for the quietest and shiest of the quintet of roommates. Harry began to form the opinion Neville might be bisexual at the very worst, but felt certain he could not be a full breeder. The thought lingered in his head as he made his way down to the Great Hall for the morning repast.
Later that day in his afternoon History of Magic class, Harry grew impatient with Professor Binns' long-winded oratory on the 1685 act that outlawed elvish sexual slavery. He did learn the reason for the ban arose from the strange venereal diseases associated with elf sex. However, another question rose in his head. He raised his hand. It stayed up for over a minute until the semi-transparent form of Professor Binns noticed it.
"Er, yes, Mister...?" The instructor said and failed to identify the student.
"Harry Potter, sir," Harry dutifully supplied the name.
"Oh, yes, um, Mister Potter, you have a question on Elvish tribal enforcement?"
"No, sir, but it is a related question... I think."
Professor Binns blinked at him.
"It's about breeder law, Professor," Harry added a little clarity.
"In what capacity?" Professor Binns rejoined.
"I know both wizards and muggles decriminalized unregulated breeder sex in the 1960s and 70s, but did they ever receive any other protections?"
"Well, interesting question."
The ghost of the professor looked around at the suddenly alert students.
"I'm still not sure what historical context you mean, Mister... er...." the ghost again failed to remember his name.
"Potter, Harry Potter," Harry repeated his name. "It just seems odd to me that breeders had laws made against them. When did it start? I can't find any mention in the text book about it?"
"Oh, hmm," the spirit of the man seemed perplexed by the questions. "From what I can remember, the Gaul wizard king Gozzo the Stiff fought an uprising of breeder wizards in the late sixth century. Apparently the breeders tried to capture all the witches for their lewd and unnatural purposes, and Gozzo made the first royal decree against breeders. Versions of his law spread to other nations and kingdoms until a veritable worldwide ban existed by the tenth century. Laws concerning breeders, laws of varying strength and purpose, have existed ever since then. Does... that help?"
"How come you don't ever teach about that?" The teenaged wizard inquired.
"Well, it's an advanced topic for fifth years and above. If you're interested, I do teach a History of Magical Law through the Ages, and you can sign up for it next year. Those wishing to become aurors need to take the class and gain at least an OWL."
"Yeah, I might," Harry replied, and his response drew astounded looks from his fellow students. "So... well, you've been around a pretty good bit, Professor, so do you agree with the anti-breeder laws?"
"Do I agree? It's not a matter of agreeing or not, Mister... Potter. Properly passed laws need to be obeyed even when being challenged," the spectral teacher stated. "I'll warrant we're more enlightened these days and more accommodating of the myriad of ways people develop... especially witches and wizards. Back when I was a student at this school, they did not allow breeders or children of breeders to attend. Nowadays it is open to all. Laws change, young man, to meet the times."
"Still doesn't answer my question, sir."
"Yes, yes, you want my personal opinion, hmm?"
Harry nodded his head.
"For one such as myself, in my condition that is, the question of sexual activity no longer applies," Professor Binns began, and several students got met with a deathly glare from him when they snickered. "When I lived, I met my mate here at school, and Ordano and I spent a happy life together until he passed on. I continued to teach for another twenty years until I likewise perished but, ah, continued in my vocation."
"And...?" Harry prodded the man.
"I never really thought of the question while I lived since it didn't really apply to me. Single witches and wizards often got taken by surprise when a breeder advanced on them. That I found repulsive since I always through breeders should announce their status..."
"But before the 1970s, wouldn't that be dangerous for them. Couldn't they wind up in Bangabang for admitting what they are?"
"Oh, heavens, no, child," Professor Binns waved away the complaint. "Simply claiming to be a breeder did not cause them to run afoul of the laws at the time when I lived. No, no. One needed to get caught in the act of sexual congress with a member of the opposite sex before becoming legally entangled."
Several students made faces and noises of disgust. Harry did his best to ignore them. Professor Binns did not seem to notice at all.
"Yes, yes, a disturbing thought, I know, but we cannot predict what a person will be when born. While I doubt the wisdom of allowing breeders to run free and unchecked among us, we must be more magnanimous to those born with such a debility. We must offer support and understanding as best as we are able."
Harry felt he got his answer from Professor Binns and did not pursue the topic any further. After class Hermione sidled up next to him and Ron as they walked down the corridor. She adjusted her leather robes and checked her high pompadour hairdo remained upright. Then she spit on the ground and itched under one of her breasts.
"Pretty ballsy of you, Harry, getting into that chat with Binns today," she said, but Harry could not decide if she chastised or complimented him. "Least ways it made the class less boring."
"You find history boring, Hermione?" Ron grunted in astonishment.
Hermione punched him on the arm so hard the sound echoed. Ron rubbed the spot she pummeled and threw the young witch a nasty look. Harry threw a sour gaze at both of them. His two best friends like to argue. Hermione, when thoroughly vexed, liked to use her now famous right jab. More than one person over the years spent several days nursing a bruise she violently coaxed to the surface of skin.
"Lay off each other," Harry grumbled at them.
"So, ah, Harry, you trying to tell us something we should know? Are you thinking of flipping on us?" Hermione teased him.
Ron's loud laugh echoed in the hall as they walked along.
"Don't be git, Hermione," Harry said.
"Oy, he was face down in a pillow last night with me behind him... and he never showed one sign he didn't fully love it. I'd say he's got as much chance of flipping as you do," Ron added and provided evidence to the contrary.
Hermione raised a fist.
"Really? Has it been that long for you?" Harry challenged her.
"Lav's been in a bit of mood lately. I think Bones has been trying to twiddle her behind my back," Hermione spat in a low tone.
"I thought Susan was going with Amelia?" Ron quipped.
"Nah, that fell apart ages ago... two weeks, I think."
"Ages," Harry muttered and laughed at Hermione's wording.
The trio continued down the toward the intersection where he and Ron would go to Divination and Hermione to Arithmancy. The topic switched to who they knew continued to date, who broke up with whom, and the ever-present dark rumors about who might be a breeder. Hermione made a number of wild accusations, but both Harry and Ron knew she spoke of jealousy against those who would not date the smartest and one of the most violent witches in their year. After she pealed away, the two boys stood watching an animated painting of two wizards engaged in ostensibly named lower wand fighting.
"You'd think they'd paint their tonkers with a bit more accuracy," Ron mused as he ran a hand through his wild red hair.
Harry shrugged and replied: "Wouldn't be able to see `em at that scale."
"Hah!" One of the painted figures said. "Mine is to scale. His is not."
"Oh, you lying wench!" The other tiny man said.
They began their wand fight anew, slapping their overly large members against one another.
"Got a bit of bad news for you, mate," Ron said as they finished the trek down the hall. "Heard McLaggen is seeing Flint now."
"What? A Slytherin? You're lying," Harry replied as they trotted up a set of steps to the next level. "He'd never."
"Heard it from Parvati, and you know her information is good!"
Harry slipped into a silence as he considered both the news and the source. He never knew Parvati to be inaccurate, and he knew McLaggen leaned toward the perverse from time to time. The legend of making broom handles fly up his bum continued to follow McLaggen, and he never denied the truth of it. Harry found the teenager attractive and wondered if they could form a pairing. He wanted to try even if it did not work out in the end. However, hearing McLaggen might be dating a Slytherin put a damper on his plans.
"Cheer up, mate. You know I'm there for you when you need me," Ron said as he began to climb the ladder at which they arrived while Harry thought.
"But you don't kiss," Harry complained.
"That's only for Colin, and you know it."
"Yeah, I know. You've got your own rules."
"Yep, and can I copy your predictions `fore Trelawny gets going?" Ron requested.
"Just make sure you change them enough this time," Harry reluctantly agreed. "Don't feel like getting another bad mark in this class."
"Right. Will do."
After dinner Harry went to the library to get caught up on the essay Snape assigned in potions. Hermione would not let neither he nor Ron copy her parchment. Professor Snape mandated a tricky open topic in his inebriated state. The students needed to select a potion that would never work on a person and explain why. Harry knew everyone else would write about clit, dick, tit, and ass elixirs that often got sold to first years, so he wanted something different. He considered dissecting why love potions would not work, but then he heard three of his classmates discussing the very problem.
"Pee-wee Potty's got a bit of spotty?" Peeves sang from up above him. "The one on your cheek is going to be a dozy!"
"Go away, Peeves," Harry rumbled and slowly extracted his wand.
"Ah, Pee-wee Potty not in a playful mood?"
The naked poltergeist flew around above his head. Every so often a chill would run through Harry's scalp when the head of the ethereal penis would get dragged across it. Sometimes Peeves would leave an ectoplasm snail trail behind.
"I need a potion that doesn't work and I need to know why it doesn't!" He said out of frustration as he rubbed the cold streak on his head.
"Wee Pee-wee Potty should try Shanghai Semen," Peeves giggled and tried to teabag Harry.
Harry waved him away with his wand. Sparks flew from the tip. Peeves let out with a startled gasp and flew away through the ceiling. The young wizard stared at the wet spot Peeves left behind.
"Shanghai Semen?" He mumbled to himself.
A little over two hours later Harry completed three feet of parchment on the absurd potion first concocted in the nineteenth century called Shanghai Semen. The purported effect claimed a man could produce four or five times his normal load of ejaculate. However, notation after notation stated it never worked and, in some cases, caused problems with the testicles. Harry theorized, after he read a bit more, the potion tried to violate the law of reproductive conservation in which a potion or spell could not create more of something than what got put into it. The ratio would always be one-to-one. Thus, trying to make testicles to produce more semen than they normally could violated the principle unless one drank an enormous amount of the potion if it worked. He felt confident about his essay by the time he returned to the Gryffindor common room.
The giggling portrait of the fat lady brandishing an enormous dildo did not raise any suspicions in him. However, as soon as he stepped inside the common room, Harry tried to cast the protective spell but failed. The haze of Outrageous Orgy gas infiltrated his nostrils and shot straight to his brain. Harry felt his pecker immediately begin to inflate. All around him his fellow Gryffindor's lay in piles of shed clothing engaging in numerous forms of sexual activity. With his last ounce of will power, Harry quickly and carefully stashed his book satchel, and then began to strip off his clothes. He spied Fred and George Weasley entwined in a sixty-nine position feasting each others willies. Their erections looked remarkably similar to Ron's. However and as he tried to worm his way over there, Dennis Creevey tackled him from behind, and suddenly Harry felt a wet tongue slithering into his asshole. He gave up and went with it.
Harry understood why Ron became attached to Colin Creevey, and Dennis gave him a good example. Ron always said no one could eat ass like Colin, and the younger brother seemed equally as adept. Dennis slathered away at the somewhat abused pucker hole in Harry. The boy's tongue ran circles around the opening. It seemed the Creeveys got blessed with unusual tongues when Harry felt the mouth appendage wiggle deep into him. It reached past the ring of his sphincter. Moreover, Dennis used fingers with an expertise belying his years. It did not take much until Harry raised up on his knees, pulled his butt cheeks apart, and silently gave Dennis permission to do whatever he wanted. Harry began to wonder if Dennis magicked his tongue when Harry felt his balls start to churn and the first tinglings of a nascent orgasm. In the end, it did not matter since he enjoyed the experience far too much.
Over an hour later a spent Harry curled up next to his best friend. Ron absentmindedly stroked his hair. He knew Ron did the same to Colin who snuggled against Ron on the other side. Harry sighed in contentment, and Colin imitated him.
"Colin, where'd you two learn how to do that with your tongues?" Harry inquired.
"I learned it from my cousin Reginald, and then I taught Dennis. I think Dennis is better than me," Colin answered in a tired voice.
"Impossible," Ron blurted. "You can make me cum just by eating me out!"
"Dennis did that to me," Harry stated in an awed voice. "Never thought it could happen, but he got in there so far... so deep. Gah, but it made me shoot something fierce."
"Bet you didn't even notice when he mounted you?" Colin asked.
"Wait, what? Dennis rode me?"
"Sure did, mate. Saw him climb on you while you was tugging your staff. He didn't take you as hard as I do, but he gave it his best shot. Looked like he liked it, too," Ron told him.
"Yeah, now that you mention it, I thought his tongue felt too long, too thick, and too hard."
"You was gone, Harry. Just gone."
Colin snickered at the statement.
"'Ere, give us bit of room, Harry," Ron requested, and it served as a polite way of telling Harry to return to his own bed.
As he did the unmistakable sound of the snogging started to fill the air. To a man, at least as far as Harry knew, the Weasleys like loud and wet kissing. The time spent at The Bunghole with the entire clan proved it on several occasions, except he never heard Percy engaging in any activity. The notion of engaging in sex with a woman made him shiver as he climbed into his bed pulled the covers over his naked form. The upright stove in the center of the room provided enough cheery heat to keep the fall chill at bay. Harry snuggled into his blankets and wondered if he would ever find a boyfriend who did not think of him in strange terms. As The Boy Who Came, the legend he could not even remember tended to tarnish most of his social interactions.
James and Lily Evans decided to live in combined cohabitation with their mates after deciding to mix bloodlines and produced Harry. James Potter came from a long established line of witches and wizards. Lily Evans arrived in complete but proud surprise out of a muggle family that last gave birth to a witch or wizard some two hundred years in the past. Harry's late mother became a noted witch during her years at Snogwarts. His father also garnered a reputation as a skilled wizard and fappitch player.
The genetic parents of Harry Potter died resisting the rise of dark wizard Lord Holdequart, a rampant hermaphrodite, who wanted to change the sexual mores of the world and begin the dominance of pansexuals. His magic could turn people away from natural inclinations and toward highly perverse practices. Holdequart nearly got destroyed when he tried to copulate with Lily Evans, after his witches killed James Potter, but Clitorium Repellius caused the male half of the evil hermaphrodite to wither and shrink. Holdequart did not realize it also shrank it's vaginal opening to a mere pinhole. Thus, when the wicked half-witch tried to engage in immoral sex with the baby Harry Potter, Holdequart's genitalia, both sets, exploded when the baby Harry Potter reportedly orgasmed. The head of Harry's penis still bore a zigzag scar from the event.
His past followed him. After the death of his parents and their mates, Harry got sent to live with his aunt, a dried up spinster, who cohabited with a man so fat he could not find or even see his own penis. They lived bitter lives as muggles with bitter spouses. Instead of keeping their wretchedness to themselves, they found a doctor who would extract semen from the corpulent Vernon Dursley and inject it into Petunia Evans (the sister of Lily Evans). Thus, the grotesquely obese Dudley Dursley came screaming and yammering into the world. Unfortunately for Harry, he got forced to live with his horrid aunt, uncle, their spouses, and cousin just after his first birthday when his natural parents got killed. They raised him worse than if he got sent to a Bangabang orphanage. Harry tried to avoid dwelling on the events of his past. However, his past refused to leave him alone.
In his first year at Snogwarts, Lord Holdequart managed to find refuge in the mostly unused anus of Professor Quirrell, the Defense Against Dark Arts instructor. Harry defeated the man who played host to the infamous dark wizard during a confrontation while fighting over the Philosopher's Bone. Harry jammed his finger up Quirrel's butt, and Holdequart could not tolerate the touch of Harry. Quirrell exploded.
In his second year at Snogwarts, part of Lord Holdequart's soul resided in a book on female masturbation techniques. Draco Malfoy's father, Luscious, secreted the tome into Giney Weasley's belongings during her first year at Snogwarts. Holdequart's partial ghost tried to take her over through her fingers as she experimented with the dark stimulating methods. Harry defeated Holdequart's remnant by jabbing a butt plug he extracted from the basilisk he killed into the page crevice of the book. Giney got freed from the masturbation curse when the book exploded.
In his third year, Harry confronted the past of his parents when his hitherto unknown godfather, Sirius Black, escaped from Bangabang prison. For months Harry thought the man wanted to doggy-style his butt when he kept seeing a giant shaggy wolf-like creature. At the same time, Hermione discovered Professor Lupin to be a lycanthrope, their new Defense Against Dark Arts teacher. The also learned the truth about Peter Pottybrew, who hid as the Weasley family pet gerbil that Ron constantly carried around in his ass. Pottybrew, in want of James Potter, betrayed them to Lord Holdequart. Although no one exploded, Black went on the lam but on good terms with Harry, Lupin got shagged by another wolf in front of students and got fired, and Pottybrew escaped capture.
These events interrupted Harry's schooling life, yet he somehow managed to get an education despite all the bother. His closest friends, Ron and Hermione, openly speculated at the start of the year what horrible circumstances would plague Harry over the coming months. It seemed inevitable when Professor Dumbledore announced the continuation of the Bi-wizard Tournament: a formerly banned tourney whereby select students would be severely tested. In the past, the tournament actually caused some participants to became heterosexual because of some of the now-banned sexual tests. Dumbledore, in a long and rambling discourse that confused the hell out of everyone, told them he wanted to resurrect the tournament simply because nothing better presented itself. He explained the tournament.
"Students and faculty," his voice boomed through the Great Hall on the first day of October. "While crafting what will undoubtedly be counted as one of the most spectacular shits in the history of Snogwarts, which by the way you can read about in Snogwarts: A History of Sorts, although that book is really all about how they shave genitals at the Ministry of Magic and the various department designs they use... truly, fascinating. I've seen some of the topiary carved into the hairy bushes, and believe you me, getting a pile of pubic hair to look like a tapir during mating season is no easy task. That's on page eight-hundred and twelve, and it's a fascinating read regarding the history of merkins throughout England. Did you know Richard the Lionhearted actually managed to sculpt his..."
"Um, Headmaster, what does this have to do with the tournament?" Professor McGonagall, a peevish teacher and deputy headmistress so old the students sometimes heard her labia dragging on the ground, attempted to redirect the man.
"What tournament?" Dumbledore inquired as he turned to face her where she sat at the head table.
"The Bi-wizard Tournament, you dolt!"
"Oh, yes, that. Nasty affair the Bi-wizard Tournament what with all those sneaky tests to see if a wizard is actually a breeder. The damn thing should be banned," the headmaster of Snogwarts rumbled.
"Then why did you decide to start it again?" Professor Snape droned at his employer.
"Well, you see, I thought it'd be clever and so much fun to watch those little cretins squirm for a year trying to figure out if they're going to get sent to Bangabang..."
"Dumbledore, those cretins are all sitting in front of you!" McGonagall roared at him, and her voice managed to echo off the vaulted ceiling high above their heads.
"Who? What? Oh!" The ancient wizard exclaimed as he whipped around and faced the students.
The students sat in stunned silence.
"If you'd be so kind as to ignore all that," the elderly man with the twelve-foot long beard begged the youngsters. "Now, we've made it so only sixth and seventh years can apply to be in the tournament..."
A collective sigh blew like gale force wind through the hall. Dumbledore's beard streamed behind him and slapped Professor Sinistra in the face. She set it on fire with her wand, but only two feet of it burned. The stench of singed hair wafted across the front third of the hall.
"We figured anyone below sixth year wasn't smart enough to figure out how to get out of the traps... er, tests... um events we've got planned for them. They'll be lucky if they get out alive."
The students gasped in horror, and the intake of their breath pulled Dumbledore's beard in the opposite direction. Ten feet of food encrusted, smelly, soggy beard flailed in their direction. The students ceased gasping as the rancid smoke from the smoldering end got caught in their throats.
"That'll show you little gits," the old man mumbled at them.
The other professors rolled their eyes at him.
"So we're setting up an old loo we found in that magic room that keep disappearing unless you know where to look..."
"You destroyed the lavatory on the third floor of the west side getting it out," Argus Felch, the notoriously grumpy caretaker who got caught having sex with his cat all the time, yelled.
Dumbledore waved his hand as if batting away a fly, and Felch flew backwards and out of the Great Hall. The old man's rheumy eyes the attempted to fix the students with a baleful glare. After failing to instill one ounce of fear or respect, he continued.
"Right. So any sixth or seventh year witch or wizard can enter. Just drop a slip of paper with your name on it, written in your own blood of course, into the loo we've got set up in the hallway, and we'll draw names at the end of the week. I dare anyone below sixth year to give it a try. Come on, you little weasels, give it go. You ain't got the balls or ovaries, do you? Huh? I can take all you bleeding..."
"Headmaster!" McGonagall screeched at him.
"Shut it, you minx," Dumbledore hotly rejoined. "Anyway, there you go. Them there are the first rules. We'll figure the rest out once we get going. Alright, finish up and get the hell out. I'm going for soak."
With that the headmaster of the school vanished in a puff of smoke. He appeared at the end of the Great Hall completely naked and slipped out the door. Seconds later everyone could hear Felch start to cough.
"You heard the man," McGonagall intoned. "Eat your meal and return to your towers."
Harry crawled out from underneath the table where the rest of his house members sat. His lips looked swollen a puffy. After dragging the back of his hand across his mouth, he glanced at his classmates.
"What'd I miss?" Harry asked.
"Missed a spot on my balls," Derek said, although he grinned. "You're really good at that, Harry."
"Lot of practice, Derek. Lot of practice. So what'd I miss?"
"I'll tell you up in the common room," Ron stated as he grabbed more roasted chicken from the platter before it disappeared. "And no more orgy gas, Fred... George. I actually need to get some studying done. I'll tell pa if you do!"
"Spoil sport," George, or possible Fred, muttered.