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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Harry awoke on the floor of the Gryffindor common room surrounded by almost the entire house compliment, a number of Hufflepuffs, quite a few Ravenclaws, two or three Boobbeatons, and a couple of Spurmstungs. He barely remembered what happened after the challenge as relief that he survived the ordeal made him pass out. It would not surprise him to learn Fred and George Weasley brewed an especially potent version of the orgy gas for the occasion. Harry leaned his head back onto something soft, and whether an ass or a tit did not matter.
The day before he arrived late to the contestant tent, but well before they considered him forfeiting the challenge. Only Foul DelaCunt remained in the tent. She told him, using a haughty French drawl that revealed her opinion of him, Diktor Kum got called first and managed to complete the task with only a nasty raking across his back. From the sound outside of the tent, it sounded as if Ass Cleft got mauled. The crowd shrieked and yelled at various interval, punctuated by the irate growl of a dragon. Harry took a seat and tried to keep from becoming paralyzed.
"Oh, Diggory came close to losing an arm there," the voice of Lee Jordan, the color commentator (a term Harry found vaguely racist when applied to Lee), called out. "Let's see what he's got planned next."
The crowd cheered, sometimes jeered, and yelled in manic glee at whatever The Ass Cleft Digger managed to do. Foul DelaCunt simply ignored the younger wizard. Lee's comments did little to lend insight into the proceedings, except to note the various ways in which Ass Cleft almost got killed. After about ten minutes, the crowd suddenly went wild and drowned out Lee's voice. Harry glanced around.
"It means `ee passed," Foul bluntly stated, and then she stood and her large breasts continued to bounce far longer than necessary. "Now they will prepare my dragon. Do not move from here."
Foul pulled aside a curtain and revealed an anti-chamber on the other side. She, her golden hair, and rather meaty posterior disappeared from view as the curtain fell back into place. Harry sat alone on the bench. Soon the roar of one dragon turned to two as the beasts got swapped. Then one of the draconic voices receded. Lee's voice called out the name of the next challenger, and the shrill shriek of a hundred females rent the air. Foul DelaCunt, for as chilly as she acted toward Harry, seemed popular to some. He listened as Lee called out the completion times for Diktor and Ass Cleft, and Diktor scored a much better time with ten minutes and twelve seconds. Diggory came in four minutes and twenty-two seconds behind. It still did not tell Harry what the challenge entailed, and Lee did not provide any details in that regard.
For over ten minutes Harry got to listen to Foul's attempt. As before, the crowd let out with ahs, ohs, screams, and yells as the Boobbeatons challenger gave it her best shot. Lee announced when she fell behind Diktor. This seemed to spur Foul to a greater efforts that resulted in more pandemonium from the onlookers. When word came that only one minute remained for her to beat Ass Cleft, it sounded like a war broke out between dragon and human. Less than half a minute later complete silence took over. Harry jumped to his feet. At the same moment, the spectators went into overdrive as Lee stated Foul DelaCunt beat Diggory's time. Harry felt bad for Ass Cleft.
Despite his feelings, Harry steeled himself as he walked to the curtain through which the witch departed. He pulled it aside and stepped into the small canvas chamber. Outside the crowd continued to chant and the sound of multiple dragons mixed together. Soon only a single beast could be heard. Harry began to shake.
"And now our final champion, Harry Potter!" Lee's voice carried through the air.
A brief and rather unenthusiastic round of applause met the announcement. Harry, somewhat disappointed, stepped out of the small tented area. He faced the once active quarry and a ferocious Hungarian Horny-tail dragon. It spreads its wings when it saw Harry enter the area, and let out with a terrible roar. Harry came close to losing control of his bladder. He barely paid attention to Lee as he told him the assorted times of the various other champions, although Harry already knew. The lone young wizard looked up at the stands. People silently stared back. Dressed in a pair of baggy and slightly worn jeans, even more worn trainers, and his favorite fappitch practice jersey, he appeared almost a muggle. Harry's dark, unkempt hair waived in the breeze caused by the flapping dragon wings.
"What am I supposed to do?" He yelled.
A rumble went through the gathering.
"Harry, they told you... wait a moment," the disembodied voice of his housemate said. "Oh, you weren't there. Alright. See here, what you've got to do is remove the butt-plug from the dragon as fast as you can."
"Remove the butt-plug?" Harry hollered in returned, stunned by the requirement. His voice echoed in the stone pit and the dragon growled at him.
"As fast as you can. It's a spiky metal contraption that got crammed in them, so they're in a bit of a mood."
"Who's bleeding idea was this?"
"Well, Mr. I Don't Have to Show On Time, they explained this was done in the third tournament in fifteen-twenty-six," Lee sniped at him.
"I thought the champions all died in fifteen-twenty-six?" Harry shouted.
A murmur swept through the crowd. Lee dimmed his volume. After a long pause, a coughing sound emerged.
"It, ah, seems you've done your research. Yes, all the champions bit the big one, so to speak, in that tournament, and, um, well, during this particular challenge," Lee hesitantly stated. "But this is why the dragons are chained this time. History tells us a couple of dozen spectators died as well."
"What?" Pansy Parkinson screamed. "Nobody told us we might get killed."
"Did you read the pamphlet on the Bi-Wizard Tournament left in Mr. Felch's office for everyone to read that more or less explained this challenge?"
Angry rumbling came up from the crowd. Harry wanted to join in. It seemed to him the headmaster yet again found a way to comply with basic rules without actually following them. No one could deny the old man could be as sneaky as they come.
"Shut it, all of you!" Professor Dumbledore's voice rose above the din. "Now, get on with it, Potter. We don't have all day just sit around."
"Right, right," Lee attempted to take control again. "At the sound of the bell..."
"Dragon's hate the sound of bells! It hurts their tympanic membranes!" Harry loudly protested.
"Stop being so bloody clever, Potter. Jordan, ring the damn bell, you mung!" The headmaster ordered.
Harry planned on being more than clever. A small swell of mild regret washed over him regarding the number of times he made fun of Hermione when she sequestered herself in the library without female companionship. The few hours he spent with the books on dragons, and one in particular, already began to serve him. However, he needed to trust the untested information he gathered. Thus, Harry approached the dragon without whipping out his wand or his magical stick. The dragon crouched low and a horrible, threatening rumble issued from it. Before the bell could ring, Harry walked within three meters of the creature.
"Look, if you're as smart as I read, you can understand what I'm saying," he said to the dragon, and then he bowed as he would to a hippogriff.
The yellow-green orbs in the beast's dark scaled head, eyes that appeared to pulse, narrowed. A whisper ran through the crowd as they watched. Harry ignored the stands filled with people, half of whom likely wanted him to get eaten. The bell rang, but the dragon only shook it's head in response.
"You can roast me alive, and Prospero knows I can't stop you, but it won't get that thing out of your bum. If you let me, I got a spell that will help ease it out. You're not the only one who got fucked by surprise."
He kept his tone level, his voice even, and he spoke in a direct and honest manner. The books said some species of dragons, including the Hungarian Horny-tail, could detect falsehood in humans. An unusual shiver ran through the beast, but it did not strike. The whispers above his head grew more intense.
"My name is Harry Potter, lord dragon, and I am at your service," Harry very formally said and bowed a second time.
Seconds seemed to turn into hours after the young wizard righted himself and continued to face the enormous, scaled beast. The spikes arranged along the sides of its head, down the thick neck, and to the very end of the tail looked wet and promised to be lethal if Harry got jabbed by one. Like most winged dragons, the Hungarian did not possess forearms. A hooked claw on the main pinion of the wing served as a knuckle upon which the creature could prop itself. The back talons attached to sturdy legs and haunches could easily disembowel a human. Harry carefully surveyed the dragon while remaining stock still.
"Thou art learned the of the old ways, man-child" the dragon said in a heavily accented voice. Even the books could not explain how dragons managed to form words. "I accept thy offer, whelp, but I warn thee: tarry not and extract no more pain from me than this infernal device demands."
The audience gasped. Lee's gasp rang out the loudest.
"Damn it," Professor Dumbledore loudly griped from his seat.
"May I draw out my wand?" Harry politely asked.
"Thou mayest, but with caution. While thy small magics may annoy, my breath will await any foolishness thou intends," the beast warned him.
Harry, with deliberate slowness, removed his wand from his pants pocket. The dragon narrowed its eyes again. The young wizard presented it handle-first for the dragon to view.
"But a child's toy. My kind remembers Merlin's staff. Proceed Harry Potter."
It surprised Harry when the dragon used his name. The crowd gasped in wonder. Dumbledore swore even more, and some of his oaths proved exceptionally vile.
"By your leave, lord dragon," Harry said, remembering the form of interaction outlined in one of the oldest books he quickly read.
As he took his first step toward the great creature, its body arched so that both head and tail faced the wizard. It then lifted the spiked and deadly tail. At the point where it seemed to join the body on the exposed underbelly, the reason why the dragon's head followed him, Harry could see the gleam of a round object. While totally unfamiliar with dragon anatomy, he logically concluded the dragon presented its anus. Harry wondered what sort of butt-plug could withstand the volatile humors of a dragon.
"Is it... does it feel long?" Harry asked as he drew ever closer.
"Mayhap the length of thy forearm," the dragon told him, "but adorned with hateful, pricking protuberances."
Harry did not know the final word, but he suspected it meant something painful for the dragon. His body shook as his nerves screamed at him to run away instead of approaching a large and live fire-breathing animal. The smell of the creature, not entirely unpleasant but certainly powerful, filled his nostrils. In the half a minute it took him to reach the dragon, it overwhelmed his vision. Harry could only see dragon and dragon tail. He then forced his eyes to focus on the unnatural object injected into the beast. He caught sight of peculiar x-shape cut into a smaller inset circle. An idea struck Harry.
"Lord dragon, I think I know how to get the pro... tuber.. things to retract," Harry started explaining, "but it might be, ah, a little, um, uncomfortable."
"Tell me more, whelp," the dragon hissed.
"I think there's a screw I can turn that will make the make the thingies pull back into the plug, but it might hurt while I do it."
A rumble rumbled through the body of the dragon before it said: "Make quick work of it if thou must."
"I'll be as careful as I can," Harry promised. He raised his wand and touched it to the indentation. After concentrating for a moment, he said: "Gyrari dextra!"
The disk shaped end of the plug started to turn, and the dragon let out with a roar that rocked Harry to one side.
"Gyrari sinistra!"
The object turned to the left, and the dragon ceased bellowing. It gradually let out with a sigh. When the entire metal disk began to spin and not just the center, Harry calculated all the painful bits got retracted. He thought of how to proceed. One idea shot into his mind.
"Lord dragon, I need to apply some, uh, lubrication around the inside edges of this to help, ah, ease it out," he told the creature.
"Be done with thy deed. Thou hast relieved me of the worst of the agony," the dragon replied with a growl.
Harry nodded and studied the issue. Without knowing the overall size of the plug, he could not estimate how much lubricant he would need. However, he decided it should be proportional to the size of the dragon. Thus, he carefully began to insert his wand between the inner edge of the metal disk and the dragon. A threatening warble from the creature reminded him to act gingerly. When Harry felt he could not insert his wand any further, he concentrated again.
"Lubrico," Harry tried to calmly said as he focused his thoughts.
At least every male student in wizarding schools knew this spell, and probably since the onset of puberty. Harry used it so often he sometimes mumbled it in his sleep and awoke completely covered slippery goo. It delighted his roommates to no end when it happened. Hence, he felt certain he could apply a generous quantity to the dragon. It did not take long before huge dollops began to fall with loud plops onto the rocks below. He gave it a few more good squirts for good measure.
"Lord dragon, I think we're ready to begin removing it," Harry said and could not hide his nervousness. He decided honesty with a dragon would serve him better and said: "This is probably going to hurt."
"Do as thou will to rid me of the invader. I am forewarned, so go forth, man-child," the dragon instructed him.
Harry pocketed his wand. With more deliberate caution, he raised his arms and hands. It did not take much to slide his fingers under the edge of the metal plug. Harry tensed himself to begin pulling, but then he thought of something.
"Lord dragon, you might want to try pushing out, like you're, ah, taking a, um, ah, poop."
"Dost thou think this wise considering where thee stands?"
"It'll make pulling it out easier," Harry stated.
The dragon let out with a small chuckle.
"Okay, on the count of three," the wizard warned. "One... two... three!"
Harry began to tug with all his might. He heard the dragon grunt. The plug did not budge, so he applied even more strength. The beast hissed with strain. Harry began to squawk with effort. He wished he could plant his feet against something to give him greater leverage. The creature started to bugle more than roar. For a brief second Harry thought he lost his grip when he suddenly began to fall backward. He hit the ground, the plug thumped heavily against his chest, and then he got coated in layer of dragon excrement. It stunk to high heavens, burned his eyes and lungs, and made his skin swelter.
"By the first shell!" The dragon crowed.
"Harry Potter retrieved the butt-plug in seven minutes and sixteen seconds!" Lee's voice rang out in the air. "Harry wins! Harry wins!"
Harry flipped over onto his stomach and began to vomit. The stink of the dragon feces swamped his senses. While continuing to heave, Harry scrambled away from the filth. Somehow he managed to hang onto the butt-plug. Overhead the audience burst into a wild cheer, chanting his name, and drowning out the dragon. Before he could get to his feet, a terrible weight dropped on his back and flattened him to the ground. Light glinted from a claw next to his head. Silence rocketed downward from the stands.
"If thou wishes to escape unharmed, wizard, thou will remove this shackle from my neck," a dragon voice filled his ears just above his head and hot breath bathed his head.
"You'll kill my friends," Harry grunted.
"That I may, but thou willst surely perish first if thou refuses me my desire."
"Give me your word you won't ever hurt me... and just leave everyone here alone, even the castle, and just fly away."
Harry, because of his reading, knew dragons liked to barter. Moreover, if they gave their word, they would rather die than break it. Despite their rather horrendous nature and reputation, all the books called them honorable when it came to bargains.
"What of the verdant green yonder beyond these walls?" The dragon inquired.
"The centaurs live there. Don't hurt them," Harry stated.
"I have no quarrel with the centaurs or the other beasts of the forest, neither do I with the trees."
"What do you want in the forest?"
"To free my kin, whelp."
Harry forgot about the other dragons as a single, specific one captured his attention. However, it became rather apparent he would not survive much longer without an agreement with the beast. Never in his life did he ever expect to find a living example of being stuck between a rock and a hard place.
"Fine, fine. Give me your word, dragon," Harry shouted.
"I freely give thee my word, on my honor, that thou and none on these grounds or within these walls will come to harm through me. Now give me thy word, mortal," the dragon intoned.
"I promise, give my word, to set you free if I can," the young wizard vowed.
The great talon lifted from him. A gigantic gasp clamored through the stands. Harry rolled over onto his back. The dragon continued to hover overhead, and the teeth looked more menacing than ever before. Harry reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wand.
"Any treachery, man-child, and thou will perish in fiery agony," the dragon said, its lips undulating to form the words.
Harry nodded. He pointed his wand at the heavy iron collar locked on the stout neck. His hand trembled. A long series of doubts paraded through his head.
"Alohamora," he incanted.
Very much to his surprise, and to everyone's in the audience by the sound of their reaction, the collar popped open and fell to the ground with a loud clank. Harry gazed up at the dragon.
"Thou hast earned my thanks, Harry Potter. Thou kept to thy word from the start and, thus, hast bound me to mine," the dragon said in a formal manner. "May I never cast eyes on thee again."
"Ah, bye," Harry replied.
A strong but localized windstorm took shape as the dragon launched itself into the air. Harry cradled the butt-plug in his left arm and hoped it added enough weight to keep him from being blown away. However, the gale ended just as quickly as it started. High in the sky, held aloft on lengthy, wide wings, the dragon circled once and then aimed for a far section of the forbidden forest. It did so without making a single sound. Harry began to wonder if the dragon handlers, Charlie Weasley in particular, would know enough to run away as fast as possible. It proved his last thought as he laid his head down and passed out.
Warm. Safe. Protected. Those words drifted through Harry's mind as he slowly came around. It took a few moments for him to realize he floated in one of the large student bathing ponds. Without his glasses, he could not make out the details, but he began to suspect he found himself in better straights than when he fainted. Moreover, two sets of hands gently bathed and caressed him.
"Finally awake, huh?" Ass Cleft Diggory's voice slid into his ear.
"Takes brave man to face a dragon," the familiar baritone of Diktor Kum said in his other ear.
Harry twisted his head from one side to the other. To his right he saw the fuzzy outline of a wet Cedric Diggory. His naked chest gleamed in the soft candlelight. When he swung to the left, he saw the broad expanse of Diktor's chest. Harry began to wonder if he never woke up and dreamed one of the best possible dreams.
"How did you think of talking to the dragon?" Diktor inquired.
"I, ah..." Harry stumbled over words while he felt one set hands massaging his left thigh. "I, um, read... a book... with words in it."
"Most books have words, Harry," Ass Cleft said and chuckled.
"But why you think to read? I flew on broom like in fappitch to get under dragon," the strapping Bulgarian young man stated.
"And I used a bunch of invisibility spells. Got burned a little on my right side when my dragon figured out what I was doing."
"Dah. Favorite broom now firewood."
"Yeah, sure, but, ah... I, um... why am I here... with you two?"
Both Ass Cleft and Diktor chuckled. Hands continued to drift up and down Harry's body, seemingly in the aim of washing the dragon poo from him. However, Harry recalled being fully clothed at the time. At that precise moment, he could not even formulate where his clothes went. Periodically a hand would bush up against a nipple or his pecker. It took very little before he sported a full erection, given that two of the most handsome boys in Snogwarts tended to him.
"So what book did you read to get that information?" Diggory asked one while one of his hands slid up between Harry's thighs from below. It did not go unnoticed Ass Cleft failed to answer the question.
"It was, ah... Here There Be Dragons and Other Great Wyrms by some guy named Septimus Hydrus," he replied while keeping track of the fact Diggory's fingers toyed with his wrinkled bud.
It did not help when Diktor's broad, strong hand gently seized Harry's throbbing erection. Moments of extreme duress, such as he experienced with the dragon, routinely left him so sexually charged it took very, very little to make him ejaculate. He calculated he would spew his load in about ten seconds if Diktor continued.
"You deserved to win, Harry. That was brilliant," Ass Cleft compliment him, and Harry could feel his cheeks, both sets, heating up.
"I take lesson from this, Potterovich. Sometimes brain is better than broom," Kum said in a firm tone.
"I... ah-h-h-h-h..." Harry tried to say, but then sighed as his orgasm took hold.
While not powerful by any standard, the fact Diktor Kum coaxed it out of him made it feel pleasing and special.
"Nerves, huh?" Cedric intoned. "I did the same thing after my OWLs. Got about two seconds into it and got a handful."
"When big game in front of me, I make the toss off, too. Relaxes me and helps focus," Diktor told him.
The constantly replenishing warm water whisked away the streamers of semen from Harry's turgid penis. Despite the release, Ass Cleft and Diktor did not cease their ministrations. Once again Harry wondered at their attention.
"You, um, didn't answer my question. Why you two?" Harry repeated his question.
"Others go running for dragon to see what it do," Diktor told him.
"And none of them understood what we faced," Ass Cleft stated. "Since nobody else seemed worried about you, we figured we champions needed to stick together. Because you turned in the best time, we felt we owed you. Sort of like giving you a private medal."
"And you are not so bad to look at. I see the scar The Dark One left on you. Big medal there."
On one hand Harry wanted to feel embarrassed that Diktor, and Diggory for that matter, saw him coated in filth. On the other hand he got another compliment from the famed fappitch player. His brain tugged him in two directions.
"I never got to see it before, so I took a peek as well," Ass Cleft said through a giggle. "You're quite handsome down there. Not the biggest, but very nicely shaped."
"Big is not always better. I already see once what you know how to do. That is nothing to do with size."
"Thanks, guys," Harry gushed and felt the object of discussion start to swell again.
"I would like to spend more time here, but some say big party planned in your tower," Diktor added.
"Fred and George said they were going to throw a rager. You know how those two get when there's any chance for a party," Ass Cleft told him.
"Are you going to be there?" Harry queried in the hopes he might get a shot at Diggory.
"No. This party is for you and Gryffindor. Maybe we can plan something for after the tournament."
Harry felt a bit let down. He turned to Diktor.
"You make promise of second Bull Run, so I wait for that. This part not that. This is for hero of day," Diktor explained.
"Yeah, right."
"Come one, Harry: buck up. This'll be one for the books. Go enjoy yourself!"
Harry returned to the present. He could only remember bits and pieces of what occurred during the party. He knew several parts of his body hurt in a way that bespoke repeated use. His jaw ached. His bunghole burned. Harry lifted his head and glanced down. His penis looked chaffed and red. He would need to wait for others with clearer recollections to fill in the blanks for him. It seemed he enjoyed his victory so much he could not entirely recall how he celebrated it.
With some effort, he managed to push himself to his feet. Harry used passed out and sleeping bodies to steady himself. Using careful steps he circumnavigated the common room. It seemed every Gryffindor took part. Four first years lay draped over the backrest of the sofa. Every visible part of the exposed skin, meaning all it, seemed caked with dried fluids. A knot of female Gryffindors lay tied up with a Boobbeatons and a Ravenclaw. Harry could make out Hermione by her body shape alone given her head rested under pile of girls. As he got close to the stairs, he spied Ron and Colin coiled around one another. They looked happy, but looks deceived and especially under the influence of orgy gas. He wondered what lay in store for them.
Once he reached the stairs, Harry needed to pick his way through the bodies sprawled along it. Half way to his dorm the passage cleared. Only so many people lived in Gryffindor, and most of them lay unconscious in the common room. He passed the dorm for the third years, thought of Colin for a moment, and then finished his ascent. Without thinking, he flung open the door. All beds save for one lay empty. Neville sat up in a start.
"Blimey, sorry, Neville," Harry quickly apologized. "Thought you were downstairs."
"Naw," Neville replied and stretched. "Too many people. Too crazy. Not really my style."
"You're a better man than me, mate."
"Hardly."
The two shared a chuckle, and Harry saw the way Neville scanned his naked form. It put yet another nail in the coffin of the gossip he now considered nothing but conjecture. Harry walked to his bed and flopped down on in it. Then he rolled over and looked in Neville's direction. He saw his friend and schoolmate lick the corner of his mouth.
"Sorry, Neville, but I'm spent right now," Harry apologized even though no request got made.
"You were bloody brilliant yesterday with that dragon," the half-naked young man said as he sat up more.
"'Cause of you. Spent three hours reading up on dragons. Found an old book..."
"Septimus Hyrdus?" Neville interjected.
"How'd you know?" Harry blurted out the question.
The quiet Gryffindor, brave as the rest, let a small smile play on his face before saying: "His is the only study that says dragons are smart and can talk. Not all species, but he knew which ones. When you called it Lord Dragon I knew what you were planning. Good move, mate. And then letting him free!"
"He was going to kill me if I didn't."
"He couldn't, Harry," Neville countered. "I saw Goo-eye and a couple of the handlers putting charms on them. That dragon couldn't kill you even if it tried."
"Did Dumbledore know that?" Harry inquired.
"I don't think so. He might've stopped `em. That's why they did it before people started filling the benches."
Harry nodded. He never considered others might put protective spells in place because he thought Professor Dumbledore got the last say as the headmaster of the host school. It begged a question he would need to ponder at a later time.
"Harry?" Neville prodded him with the name.
"No, just wondering if I would have felt as scared if I knew that before I went into the quarry," he offered his thoughts.
"You didn't know? We heard them give instructions to the other champions saying they could get hurt and not killed!"
"I didn't get there `til just before DelaCunt's turn, so I missed that."
Neville blinked at him several times while his mouth fell open.
"What?" Harry complained at being the object of scrutiny.
"Harry, you went in there thinking you might get killed?"
Harry nodded.
"By Merlin, mate, you're much braver than me. I'd've shat my drawers if I thought I was facing a wild dragon that could get me. You didn't even look scared!" Neville gushed at him.
"Oh, shut it, Neville," he beat back the compliments. "I was shaking like the Whacking Willow. I didn't know if what I read was right, but I had to give it a go."
Neville gazed at him with open wonder.
"Just... stop looking at me like that!" Harry grunted in annoyance.
Neville blushed. The young man looked adorable to him. He remembrance of a morning not that long ago ran through Harry's mind. He started to grin.
"Say, ah, Neville, seeing as you didn't go to the party last night and it's morning and all," he began and grinned even wider.
"What'choo scheming, Harry?" His dormmate asked with correctly applied suspicion.
"Nothing. Well, not anything you haven't done before."
Neville's cheeks turned apple-red.
"Come on. No one else is up, and you didn't seem to mind me watching last time. It looked good," Harry spurred him.
"But that wasn't planned, and you're laying there all naked like, and..."
"Neville, you looked so hot, and I really, really want to watch you again."
Harry did not hide his sense of want. Neville appeared confused. They sat looking at one another. Harry thought he pushed it too hard in moment.
"Harry?" Neville quietly said the name.
"What? You've matured a lot since our first year, and you're a good looking bloke. You may not realize it, but you're starting to turn heads."
Neville's mouth flopped open again.
"Honest to goblins, mate."
Harry watched as Neville's right hand reached across and pulled back the covers. His sleeping togs already appeared puffed out. Very slowly the shy young man pulled at the drawstring. Harry felt something stir in his gut, and his loins began to tingle. A few seconds later Neville hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his clothing. He lifted his butt and then hauled the garments down to his knees. Harry gazed in complete appreciation of beautiful cock that stood upright from the middle of Neville's lap, nestled in patch of dark hair. The foreskin got pulled a third of the way down the glans due to the erect state. It took every gram of willpower in Harry's body to keep from jumping across the room and pouncing on the handsome tadger.
"Stunning. Truly magnificent," he whispered and meant the entirety of Neville's three-quarters nude form.
Neville's long fingers slowly wrapped around his hard shaft. Harry noticed his friend never looked down and continued to stare in his direction. Of course, Harry's cock grew rigid very quickly once Neville began. Neville's hand pulled downward, skinning back and revealing the full head of penis. Harry felt drool build in his mouth as the sloping glans, purple with blood, got exposed. More and more Harry doubted he could contain his raging desire to suck the perfection held in Neville's hand. Without realizing it, Harry's left hand slid down and began to toy with his erection. Neville's eyes flicked back and forth.
One act lead to another. Neville picked up speed, and his hand began to fly up and down. Harry kept pace and vigorously tugged on his already sore erection. He could not stop watching Neville's heavy testes bounce around in the long sack that appeared to be shrinking. Sweat began to trickle in his armpits and groin. Watching his friend pull on his perfect cock sent shivers down Harry's spine. Second by second he fought to maintain control and not jump the young man across from him. It seemed his only solution lay in making himself orgasm. Harry started twisting his hand around while he jerked. Neville matched him move for move. The distance separating them vanished as Harry's eyes watched the enticing head on Neville's cock swell even further. His friend's balls also began to draw up tight. Harry could just see the edge of Neville's anus.
The glimpse of the shy Gryffindor's pucker hole sent him over the edge. Harry's cock started spitting out strands of pearly semen. His body both shook and stiffened as his orgasm intensified. It took every effort to keep his eyes open. Ten seconds later while Harry's climax quickly diminished, he once again got to see Neville's erection disgorge the contents of his balls. Cum sprayed out of the end sending droplets everywhere. Harry never saw anyone ejaculate quite the way Neville did. It looked as those he shot with such force the fluid broke apart as it exited. The spatter of sperm twinkled in the morning light as more got added. Neville's chest, stomach, crotch, and upper thighs all wore dappling of jizz. Harry felt his cock lurch in reaction.
"Fucking amazing," he growled in appreciation. "I could watch that ten times a day."
"Lay off," Neville panted, but he smirked all the same.
"Seriously, one of these days I'm gonna suck you off so I can feel you blast in my mouth. It looks too good to waste," Harry told him.
Neville continued to milk his gradually softening pecker and replied: "Look who's talking? Made a bit of a mess over there. Looks... creamy."
Harry could swear he heard a note of disappointment in Neville's voice. However, he simply smirked at the statement. Then he glanced around.
"Know how much I've spunked up in this room?"
"This one?" Neville grunted. "Last year we could've hung wallpaper what with all you, Ron, Séamus, and Dean painted on the place. Sometimes I was afraid to let my feet touch the floor!"
Harry started laughing, and Neville soon joined him. Nothing about the moment felt awkward or forced. It dawned on him that the quiet member of their room likely considered this the height of his sexual activity. Harry started to make a plan. He truly felt indebted to Neville for suggesting he go to the library to read about dragons. He wanted to repay his friend in a grand way, and ideas began to spark in his mind yet again.
"Well, do yourself a favor and never lay in Séamus' bed. Not sure he knows how to use the cleaning spell," Harry warned, and it earned him another round of laughter for his dorm-mate.