Testing Defenses
Chapter 3: Katie's Visit
By canoncansodoff
Author Notes:
Disclaimer: Not my characters, no money being made, etc., etc.
Harry and Luna crept down to the kitchen, where they found a plate of slightly rancid mystery meat in the back of the refrigerator. Figuring that it was smelly enough to attract a thestral’s attention, Harry sent the meat out the back door with Luna, while he poured out a glass of orange juice and walked out onto the front steps.
As Harry bent down to pick up the morning paper, he glanced behind the azalea bush. He didn’t sense anyone there, but just to be sure he stood up and hurled the juice towards the spot. Harry thought he heard a quiet snort when the liquid splashed against the branches and clapboard siding without deflection. He spun and hurled the glass towards the sound. There was a shimmer in the air as a disillusioned hand caught the glass. But by the time Harry had reached for his wand someone else’s was making an indentation on his chest.
“Well spotted, Potter, but your reflexes were lousy.”
“Points for effort though, Mad-Eye?” Harry asked.
“Points?” barked the retired Auror, as he canceled the disillusionment spell and stepped out onto the walk. “Think you’re still in school?”
“Obviously not,” Harry replied with a grin, as he took a step back from point-blank range.
Mad-Eye’s magical eye spun around at the same time that Harry spotted Patsy the thestral clearing the roofline of the next-door neighbor’s house. The young wizard couldn’t resist smiling when the wind flipped up the hem of her rider’s cloak….when Luna said she was going to ride bare back she obviously meant more than just going without a saddle.
The retired Auror’s good eye twinkled a bit as it bore down on Harry.
“So, Mad-Eye…I guess you can see thestrals?”
“Seen enough death first-hand to spot a herd of them,” the former Auror retorted. “Wish I could have said the same for Emmeline Vance...guess you’ve forced me to write her out of the rotation right along with Fletcher…”
“Emmeline Vance?” asked Harry. “She was on guard duty last night?”
Mad-Eye nodded.
“A person in charge of protecting me from Voldemort and his Death Eaters has never seen death before?”
The retired Auror shrugged his shoulders. “Can’t give a dead man a second chance, now can you?”
“Dead wizards can’t escape from Azkaban, either,” Harry replied.
Moody chuckled in response, then changed the subject.
“I suppose the tracking charm on that owl across the street guided Miss Lovegood and her steed here last night?”
Harry shrugged his shoulders. “So she says…all I’m doing is sitting here on Privet Drive, minding my own business, and these witches just pop up on my doorstep…”
Moody squinted hard at the young wizard, before breaking out into a hearty laugh.
“Been a while since I’ve heard something that funny.”
“Glad I could help,” Harry replied brightly. “Hey Mad-Eye, I thought Order members weren’t supposed to be talking to me this summer.”
“Yes, well, Order members are supposed to be doing a better job of protecting you, too, so let’s call it even.”
“So, you going to be here all day, then?” Harry asked.
“If I do my job right, you’ll never know.”
“Okay, then…one last question…why didn’t you try to stop Luna from leaving?”
The retired Auror snorted loudly. “My job is to keep you safe, Potter. Would catching a nubile witch sneaking out of your warm bed help me do that job?”
“Erm, no, but…it’s not like that, you know…”
“I don’t care to know,” the Auror replied. “I do, however, care to see just how creative Miss Granger and your harem can be when it comes to testing the defenses. I’ve been telling Albus that our guard rotation is soft for a while now, and if watching witches file in and out of your bedroom is what’s necessary to get him to listen, then…”
“It’s not like that,” Harry exclaimed.
“Right,” said Moody. “So are you needing any protection for your wand?”
Harry looked down at the length of wood in his hand.
“No, I just polished it before I left school.”
“Not that wand, Potter!” Mad-Eye replied with a grin. The old wizard then reached into an inside pocket of his cloak and fished out a perforated strip of foil-sealed condoms that cascaded down towards the ground, accordion-style.
“Will a half-dozen be enough for the day, or should I make a run to the chemists?”
Harry looked at the prophylactics with wide-eyed shock and a bright red flush on his face and neck.
“Mad-Eye, it’s really not like that…we’re not…these girls aren’t…”
“Uh-huh, sure kid,” Moody retorted. “These aren’t just normal muggle rubbers…got Impervious charms applied individually…much safer that way…”
“We didn’t have need of that kind of thing,” Harry stated firmly. “And I’ll not have you implying otherwise.”
“Fair enough, but don’t think that there aren’t dozens of witches out there that wouldn’t love to bear the child of the Boy-Who-Lived and get a handhold on the Potter vaults.”
“Yeah, right,” Harry replied dismissively.
“Yes, I think I am,” the retired Auror replied. “So do you want’em or not?”
Harry stared at the strip of rubbers, then back at Moody. A rather sheepish smile broke on his face as the younger wizard reached out and grabbed Mad-Eye’s offering.
“Well in the name of constant vigilance….”
Mad-Eye laughed as Harry stepped back inside the house. As he pocketed the condoms, Harry caught sight of the downstairs lavatory and realized that his prank needed to be tweaked. He stuck a Post-it charm on the bathroom’s door, then scooted back up to his room to wait for all hell (and hopefully a few bladders) to break loose.
But for some reason, it didn’t. At least not at first.
The Dursleys were never quiet as they went about getting ready for the day. With the Muggle-repelling charm on his bedroom door, Harry lay back in bed and used the various sounds to track his relatives’ movements. While all three made use of the upstairs bathroom, Harry heard neither the sound of a flushing toilet, nor the indignant outrage of someone who may have soiled themselves. What Harry did hear was his Uncle’s car leaving the driveway, and his cousin Dudley retreating to his bedroom to listen to some ear-splitting music.
Curious, Harry used his engraved pocket knife to open his door and step out into the hallway. A quick inspection of the bathroom revealed two things: a) the Muggle-repelling Post-it was still attached to the closed toilet seat; and, b) there was a feint smell of urine coming from the area around the bathtub drain.
“Merlin spank me, I didn’t think that they’d take a piss in the tub!” Harry thought to himself. “Well,” he mentally added, “maybe not Aunt Petunia…she’s so constipated she probably only has need of the loo once a week.”
Trying hard not to think about his Aunt using the loo, Harry decided to make lemonade from lemons. Knowing that Petunia always was the first to rise in the morning, he quietly relieved himself down the bathtub drain (just to reinforce the smell), then removed the Post-it from the toilet seat.
Harry stepped out into the hall and quietly tested the handle to his cousin’s bedroom door…not that any degree of stealth was needed, as the door was actually vibrating from the pumped-up bass of Dudley’s stereo. The door was locked from the inside. He used his pocket knife to open the lock, but left the door itself unopened. Harry then pulled the Post-it from his own bedroom door, used the knife to lock himself inside, and waited for his Aunt’s charm-induced state of distraction to clear.
A few minutes later, Petunia suddenly realized that her lazy, no-good freak of a nephew was sleeping away the day. She promptly marched up the stairs and yelled, “Get up, you miscreant!” whilst undoing the four locks fixed to Harry’s door.
Her nephew looked suitably contrite and beaten.
“Good morning, Aunt Petunia,” he said. “Might I use the lavatory before starting in on my chores?”
“Erm, yes, but no funny business,” she replied.
Harry nodded as he walked past his Aunt and into the hallway. He made a point not to close the door behind him as he entered the loo, then paused, made a loud sniffing noise, and called out, “Aunt Petunia?”
“What is it, boy?” she demanded.
“Should I call for a plumber?”
His Aunt frowned as she walked up to the lavatory’s threshold.
“Why is that, boy?”
“Well, it’s just that there’s a smell of urine coming from the tub, and so I thought there might be something wrong with the plumbing.”
“What?” Petunia shrieked. She pushed past Harry and pulled back the shower curtains.
“Oh, my!” she shrieked, as she smelled the telltale odor and spied the telltale drops of yellow liquid pooled around the tub drain.
“Oh!….Oh!….Oh!….”
As his Aunt hyperventilated, Harry politely asked if there was something he could do to help.
“This was your doing!” she exclaimed.
“Now, Aunt Petunia, how can you say that?” Harry replied sincerely. “I’ve been locked up in my room all night, and you only just released me.”
“Well….well….erm….Oh!….Oh!…Oh!”
This time there was some movement behind her shrieks, as she strode out of the bathroom to question her son about the urine stains.
“Dudley?” she called out from the hallway.
There was no answer.
After three attempts she decided that her son couldn’t hear her over his music. Finding the door handle unlocked, she tried to open it, only to find her entrance impeded by a damp towel that had been stretched along the door’s bottom edge. This only got her angrier, so she shouldered open the door and burst inside.
A purple haze wafted back out into the hallway, carrying with it the shrieks of both his Aunt and cousin.
Brimming with anticipation, Harry rushed out into the hallway and poked his head inside Dudley’s room. He wasn’t disappointed… Aunt Petunia had walked in on Dudley wanking in bed, with a lit joint in his mouth and a bondage porno playing on one of his televisions.
“Triple bonus points on this prank!” Harry decided. With a broad smile on his face, he walked downstairs, put the teapot on the fire, and sat back to enjoy the show.
As the morning progressed, Harry realized that his prank had spiraled out of his control, and that his bedroom would probably be thoroughly inspected by either his Uncle or the Muggle police. With the help of temporarily placed Post-its he managed to sneak all of his magical contraband (save for his innocent-looking pocket knife) out of his room and into his trunk (which his uncle had locked up underneath the cupboard). Harry then slipped outside and found Mad-Eye to explain the situation. It didn’t take much to convince the retired Auror to enter the house and place a strong Muggle-repelling ward on the cupboard door.
By the end of the day, Harry’s secrets had stayed safe, and accusations of poor hygiene and oversexed hormones were the least of Dudley’s worries. Petunia had called Vernon home, and his Uncle and gotten his cousin to “confess” that it was his “first time” experimenting with drugs, and that they had been given to him by his friend Piers. But when Piers’ parents were confronted, Dudley’s mate rolled on him and identified him as the ringleader of their gang of small-time drug dealers. The police were brought in and Dudley was eventually hauled away to begin what would eventually be a three-year stay in juvenile detention.
Throughout the whole process, Harry’s relatives did their best to blame the situation on him. Mad-Eye, however, would have none of it, and spent a good deal of time visibly standing by Harry’s side. Once the police had cleared out, the retired auror insisted that Harry be given access to his trunk. But when he helped Harry pull the trunk out of the cupboard he noticed the word's "Harry's Room" scribbled in crayon on an inside wall. Mad-Eye got rather mad when he saw first-hand his charge’s living conditions (both past and present). He “fixed” the present with a few well-placed Evanesco’s and reinforcing charms that removed the common wall between Harry’s bedroom and Dudley’s. The retired auror then calmly informed the Dursleys that any complaints about their nephew’s new quarters would result in additional magical remodeling, and further reductions in the number of bedrooms.
Harry was thrilled to find his living space tripled by Moody’s spell work. For once it seemed that the Order’s presence on Privet Drive had actually done some good, and he was generous in his thanks. He spent the remainder of the day moving Dudley’s junk out of his expanded bedroom, except for the time spent fixing dinner for Mad-Eye and himself while the Dursleys were down at the police station trying (unsuccessfully) to bail out their son.
“So, you on duty tonight?” Harry asked, as he cleared the dishes from the table.
“Thinking you like having me around, then, Potter?”
“Well…you were rather brilliant today, Moody. But I was wondering more if you’d be the last line of defense for any potential visitors.”
The retired Auror snorted. “I may be around, but only to clean up if there are any other messes. I’ll let your harem work its way through the lower divisions before they test the Premier League.”
Harry laughed. “I don’t know who’d be more offended by that statement…Hermione or the other Order members.”
Mad-Eye nodded. “Doesn’t matter to me, so long as it inspires them to keep constant vigilance.”
With access to his trunk Harry could have spent the evening reviewing his texts, but he was far too jazzed to concentrate on schoolwork. Instead, he stretched out on his magical sheets and listened to all of the delicious gossip that came through his opened bedroom windows, as the neighbors loudly discussed the Dursley’s woes.
He fell asleep sometime after half eleven.
One hour later, the outstretched hand of a young witch woke Harry.
“Katie?” the befuddled young wizard asked. “What are you doing here?”
“Testing defenses,” she replied. “And stopping by to see an old friend….except that we really aren’t true friends, are we?”
“What do you mean?” Harry asked, as he retrieved his glasses and turned on his lights. This allowed him to take in the sight of his female teammate’s disembodied head and hand hovering two feet above his bed.
Katie Bell smiled as she dropped Harry’s invisibility cloak onto the bed and dismounted from her broomstick. She was wearing a tight-fitting jumper and dark trousers underneath.
“Well, it’s just that we can’t be friends, or else this wouldn’t count…not that I’d pass up the chance to visit, or maybe chase away your bad dreams, or…”
Harry began to frown as his Quidditch teammate babbled. He finally interrupted her, asking, “Did Hermione put you up to this?”
“How did you guess?” the soon-to-be Seventh Year asked brightly, as she sat on Harry’s bed, reached into the pocket of a large bag tied to the back of her broom, and pulled out a letter.
Dear Harry,
How are you? Luna stopped by this morning on the way home to Devon to drop off the cloak, and said that she had a nice visit (Do I want to know who Left, Right and Center are?).
Once again, Dumbledore wasn’t satisfied with our success. Are you surprised? I’m not. He said that while Luna wasn’t Muggleborn, that she was a friend of yours, and that the wards are smart enough to account for that. He also wrote that “Miss Lovegood’s thought processes are singularly unique and unlikely to be duplicated within the ranks of the Dark Lord.” While he may be right, I hardly think her cross-wired brain was necessary to send your cousin an owl.
Professor McGonagall visited at lunchtime to personally deliver the Headmaster’s response. Curiously, she had a separate letter and a few packages addressed to you, and asked whether I knew who was “next in line.” I was a little concerned that this might be an attempt to prevent another visit, but she assured me otherwise.
Given the shape of the packages, I suggested that Katie Bell would be a good choice. Professor McGonagall is going to be nice enough to pass this letter (and a separate package from me that contained your cloak and a message asking her to deliver it to you) along with her own correspondence.
If you are reading this letter in your bedroom with Katie standing in front of you, then she succeeded and McGonagall proved to be on our side of this issue. I don’t think that Katie would qualify as a friend, per se, but even if she does, I thought that you’d enjoy the chance to talk Quidditch with someone cuddlier than Ron (not that I know first hand, mind you).
Sweet Dreams,
Hermione
Harry looked up from the letter and discovered that Katie had retrieved a few more things from her magically-expanded bag…a second broomstick was in one hand, while his “Potter 7” Quidditch jersey was in the other. While the bright red and gold colors of the uniform first caught his eye, his attention quickly shifted.
“Is that my Firebolt?” he whispered excitedly.
Katie nodded as she held the broom out for Harry to grab. Which he quickly did, but only with one hand, so that he could use the other to pull his teammate into a hug. Without thinking, but with the thoughts of Luna’s lessons in the back of his mind, he swung the Seventh Year around and planted a full kiss on her lips.
Startled at his bold act, Harry stepped back.
“Oh my, erm…sorry Katie, I just got so excited, and I wasn’t thinking when I…”
“Relax, Harry...I understand completely.”
“Erm, thanks….oh, Merlin, I can’t believe it!” he said excitedly. “How did you get it?”
“Professor McGonagall delivered it to my house this afternoon, right after she visited with Hermione. For some reason she seemed to think that I’d be seeing you soon.”
“Well, thanks…this is so…well, it’s brilliant. Thanks, Katie.”
“You’re welcome, Harry,” the young witch replied. “The professor also sent along your old jersey, just to make sure it still fits.”
Harry snorted. “Does it matter if it did?”
“Well, given the fact that your lifetime Quidditch ban has been lifted, it just might,” Katie replied brightly. “Got your official reinstatement notice from McGonagall in the bag.”
Harry’s smile got even wider at this news, and he set down the broom just long enough to attempt to pull the uniform over his head and arms.
“Looks like I’ve filled out a bit,” he said, as he tried to bend and stretch.
“You certainly have, and in a very nice way,” Katie replied with a smirk. She stepped towards Harry, and tried to pull down on the front of his jersey. He thought she was spending more time running her fingers on his skin than adjusting his shirt…not that he cared.
“Too small with all of those new muscles, Mr. Potter…I’m afraid it just won’t do.”
Harry nodded. Feeling emboldened by the prospect of another cute witch spending the night, he held his arms up and asked, “Help me take it off?”
Katie’s eyes flashed as a smile curled on her lips. She nodded, instructing him to lean forward.
Taking her sweet time pulling the tight fitting garment off, she asked, “So a new jersey is in order…any plans for this old one?”
Harry leaned back once Katie and pulled the jersey completely off. He shrugged his bare shoulders and asked, “Why does it matter?”
“Well,” said Katie with twinkling eyes, “I seem to have forgotten my nightgown, so I thought I might try wearing this instead.”
“Nightgown?” asked Harry. His eyes sparkled as he then asked, “Planning on staying the night?”
“Erm maybe...it's just that...I have it on good authority that you sleep better in somebody else’s arms, and as this year’s Quidditch team captain I can’t have my star seeker going sleepless in Surrey, can I?”
“Captain?” asked Harry. “That’s great, congratulations, Katie.”
“Thanks...now follow your captain’s orders and get into bed.”
“Yes Sir…I mean Ma’am, erm, or is it…”
“Captain or Katie will do fine,” the witch replied with a smirk.
“Okay, Captain,” Harry replied with a smile. He waved towards the corner of his room. “There should be room in the Port-a-loo for you to change.”
“As if you haven’t seen it before,” Katie replied, as she turned away from Harry, draped his jersey over the bookcase in front of her, and deftly pulled her jumper over her head.
The absence of tan lines on Katie’s naked back caught Harry quite by surprise, and he promptly forgot to ask what she meant by her statement. He did well not to blurt out anything at all as she slowly pulled the shirt over her head and down her torso.
He did, however, let out a low-pitched groan.
“Something wrong, Harry?” she asked coyly, as she tossed a saucy grin over her shoulder. Some effort was required to stretch the hem of the shirt down past her bum…not that it made a bit of difference when she unfastened her jeans and bent at the waist so that she could slip the cuffs over her bare feet.
That she didn’t hear Harry turn away from her until after she righted herself gave Katie some confidence that he got a good view of her blue and white wide-striped knickers. Which was, of course, entirely her intention.
“Nice room,” she said, as she looked around. “From Hermione’s letter, I was expecting something smaller.”
“Well, there was a bit of a remodel today,” Harry mumbled into the wall.
“Oh...you can turn around now…I’m decent.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that before,” Harry replied. But curiosity got the better of him and he rolled over and got a good view of Katie’s new nightgown. She did a wonderful job of filling out the top part of his old jersey, while the bottom part was just barely long enough to cover her knickers.
“Looks much better on you than on me,” he rather boldly observed.
“Why thank you, Harry, I never thought you’d notice,” Katy replied. “Which reminds me…we need another picture for Dumbledore’s collection.”
“Erm, aren’t you going to be a little underdressed?”
The Seventh-Year dismissed Harry’s concerns with a wave of her hand.
“We only need a head shot,” she replied. “You and I could be starkers below the waist and it wouldn’t show…not a bad idea actually…”
“Katie!”
“Just teasing, Harry,” the young witch replied brightly. She fished the magical camera and the morning paper out from her bag and the necessary evidence of her visit was obtained.
When Katie yawned with a purpose, she dropped the camera and paper onto the desk, reached over to turn out the lights, and climbed into bed with Harry. He smiled, and thanked the gods for his change of fortune. Rather than roll back towards the wall, he stayed flat on his back while Katie cuddled up to him and draped her bare leg over his. Harry flinched a little as her knee made passing contact with his crotch.
“Relax...” Katie cooed into his ear, as she leaned into his arm. Tracing one of Harry’s nipples with her finger she added, “I’m here for nothing more than a good night’s sleep.”
“Erm, sure…easy enough for you to say…you’re not the one with an attractive member of the opposite sex in bed with you.”
“What do you mean, Harry?” asked Katie. “From my point of view, I definitely have an attractive member of the opposite sex in bed with me.”
“No need to humor me…”
“Stop it, Harry,” she ordered, pinching his nipple for emphasis.
“Ouch!”
“Sorry...It’s just that….well, don’t tell me you haven’t heard all three of your Chasers going on about how fanciable you’ve been the past few years.”
“Of course I haven’t heard that.”
“Not even in the Quidditch changing rooms?”
“How would I be able to do that?” Harry asked.
“Through the peep hole, of course,” Katie replied matter-of-factly.
“Peep hole?”
“Oh, don’t tell me…you mean you haven’t….” Katie interrupted herself to giggle.
“What are you on about?”
When the young witch finally composed herself, she replied, “I could understand Oliver not saying anything, given his preferences, but didn’t the Twins ever show you the peep hole in the wall that separates the Gryffindor changing room’s showers?”
“Peep hole?”
“It’s been there for ages, from what I’ve been told,” Katie replied. “Sort of a no-questions asked way to play ‘You show me yours, and I’ll show you mine’.”
“What?” asked Harry. “So you mean that…not just that the wizards can spy on the witches, but the other way around?”
Harry felt Katie nod her head.
“I’m sorry...but everyone is supposed to know…equal-opportunity perving, and all that…I wonder why the Twins didn’t…”
“Ginny,” Harry concluded.
“But you were on the team before she was, right?”
“Well, then…they knew their little sister had a crush on me…maybe they didn’t want me to get ideas about other witches?”
Katie shook her head. “Doesn’t make a difference…fair is fair and they knew it,” she said. “When I see them, they’ll get a proper dressing down and a good hex or three. And when I tell Angelina and Alicia, Fred and George won’t be getting anything!”
Harry thought for a moment, then a torch flared up over his head. “You mean that Fred and George, and Angelina and Alicia are…well, erm….they’re…”
“Shagging?”
“Well, yes.”
Katie nodded. “For at least the past year and a half,” she replied.
“So maybe they didn’t want me perving on their girlfriends?” asked Harry.
A moment later, the two-way aspect of this peep hole hit home. He turned away from her and asked, “So, Katie…I guess this means you’ve seen me starkers?”
From his new position, he couldn’t see the eye twinking and broad grin on the witch’s face. She reined it in enough to sound contrite. “I’m sorry, Harry, but we really thought you knew…not that you have anything to be embarrassed about, I’ll have you know.”
“That’s not helping,” said Harry.
“Would it help if I stripped down and showed you what you’ve been missing, at least on my account?”
“No.”
“Oh, well….” At a loss over what to do next, she scooted over to snuggle against Harry’s back.
“I’m sorry,” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I really am sorry.”
“That’s okay...doesn’t sound like it’s your fault.”
“But…”
“Katie, can we just drop it?”
“If that’s what you want,” she replied.
There was an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes. Harry used the time to recount their conversation…there had been a nagging question that had come and gone, and….
“Katie?”
“Yes, Harry?”
“Why did you say that Oliver might not have thought to tell me about the peep hole?”
“Because he never had need to use it, I reckon.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, he already had an eyeful of what interested him in his own locker room…didn’t you know that Wood is gay?”
“What?”
“Guess not.”
“Merlin!”
“You can say that again, Harry.”
“Merlin!”
There was another awkward pause, before Katie said, “It always seemed so obvious to me, the way that Oliver would sneak glances at you guys in the shower…”
“Katie?”
“Yes Harry?”
“Are you here to try and help chase away my nightmares?”
“Yes.”
“Well, giving me thoughts of my Quidditch team captain looking at me that way isn’t going to help.”
“Oh,” Katie giggled. “Guess you’re right…sorry.” She then added, “Would it help if I replaced those thoughts with what you might have seen through the peep hole?”
“Katie…”
The young witch dropped her hand down from Harry’s shoulders, and began to trace circles on his chest. “I mean, I’m not a witch’s witch, necessarily, but even I can’t help but notice the way that Angelina and Alicia like to wash each other’s backs, or the way that their nipples darken when they soap up their breasts, and the shaving charms…”
“Katie?”
“Yes, Harry?”
“You can stop, now…it worked.”
Katie giggled, stopping only when Harry caught the hand that was inching its way down his chest.
“Looking for something?” he asked impishly.
“My stuffed hippogriff?”
Wondering just how much Katie had heard about Luna’s visit, he decided to play along.
“I don’t think you'll find a stuffed hippogriff in my shorts.”
“Really?” asked Katie. “Because from where I am looking, there’s definitely something stuffing your shorts.”
“More so each minute, I’m afraid.”
“I’m not complaining.”
Harry tried to change the topic.
“So how did you do it?”
“How did I do what…Soap up my breasts? Shave my privates?”
“Stop, Katie,” Harry pleaded. “Tell me how you made your way into my bed tonight.”
“Well…it all started last week, back at school, when Hermione asked me to make a witch’s oath that I wasn’t interested in you as a boyfriend or a shag buddy.”
“She wanted to know what?”
“Whether I wanted you,” Katie replied. “I’m sorry, Harry, but despite how well hung you are, I’ve never thought of you that way before.”
“Do I dare ask why?”
“No offense, but I’ve got a thing for taller wizards,” she explained.
“Oh..Okay,” said Harry. “But I was asking whether I dare ask why Hermione wanted to know if you fancied me.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” asked Katie. “Oh sorry, I forgot…you’re a boy…never mind.”
“Hey!”
The young witch pushed past the point. “So once that was cleared up, she told me about her worries about you and your safety here at your Aunt and Uncle’s, and that she had plans on testing the Headmaster’s defenses. I agreed then to be an on-call infiltrator, in case more than one attempt was necessary.”
“So…Hermione recruited you?”
“Guess you could think of it that way.”
“Hmmm….I want to talk more about that, but first…I guess you made good use of your broomstick and my cloak once you found the place, but how did you find me?”
“I asked my brother.”
“Your brother?”
“Yeah, Danny…he works in the Ministry for Mafalda Hopkirk.”
Harry twisted around suddenly. “Mafalda Hopkirk?” he demanded. “As in Improper Use of Under-aged Magic Mafalda Hopkirk?”
“Yeah, that one,” Katie replied. “He’s one of the big-board monitors.”
“Big-board?”
“The wall display that shows where magic is being used across Britain,” Katie explained. “He’s only been there a few months, so he wasn’t there when you got your warning letters, but since the reprimands were addressed to you here, and are public documents, it was easy for him to look them up.”
“The warning letters are public documents?” Harry exclaimed. He shook his head in disbelief. “So he didn’t even have to use his position to get that information?”
“Don’t think so,” she replied. “He gave me copies…got them in my bag if you want me to show you.”
As Katie turned to roll out of bed Harry stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “That’s okay, Katie…I believe you. It’s Dumbledore that I can’t believe.”
“Why do you say that?”
“He’s kept my mail from me while I’m here, claiming that keeping my location a secret is a big part of my protection…yet you’re here telling me that nearly anyone could find out where I live with no more than a simple ministry document search.”
Harry’s voice nearly broke at the end of his comment…the thought that his isolation from the outside world was a farce was upsetting. He was starting to silently wonder if Dumbledore’s actions were intentional, or merely incredibly sloppy, when Katie reached out and pulled him into a hug.
“I’m sorry, I’m supposed to be making sure that you slept well... and here I go again…”
“It’s not your fault, Katie, really,” Harry replied, as he allowed his chin to rest on his teammate’s shoulder.
Katie slipped a hand up under Harry’s boxers and grabbed a handful of bum. “Would some more naughty bedtime stories help?” she asked.
Harry’s head popped up, and he quickly rolled over before his other head could do the same.
“Thanks for offering, Katie,” he said quickly. “But we really should get some sleep.”
“Just let me get my dream catchers in place, then…”
“Katie, that’s not helping!”
“Okay, okay,” she replied. “How about a friendly, dream chasing hug?”
Harry thought for a moment, then scooted his bum back until Katie was spooned against him. But when he leaned back he felt more flesh than fabric against his back.
“Katie?”
“Yes, Harry?”
“What happened to my jersey?”
The young witch giggled. “Oops, must of ridden up or something.”
Harry snorted. “Need to make any adjustments?”
Katie paused, rubbed her bared breasts across Harry’s back, then boldly announced, “Just one.”
She snaked her hand back down to Harry’s crotch and grabbed hold. “There… I’m all set…how about you?”
Harry shook his head, worrying a bit about his bedmate's oath. But that didn’t stop him from reaching down, covering her hand with his, and saying. “Fine by me.”
“Good night, then, Harry” said a beaming Katie.
“Good night.”
oo00OO00oo
Harry Potter was having one of the best workouts of his life. He flew up and down, and up and down, and up and down the field looking for that elusive snitch, with both hands gripped firmly on his broom and his “Potter 7” jersey once again draped over his back. The fact that he was otherwise stark naked was odd, but not particularly worrisome, as he was alone in the stadium, and the sun and wind was caressing him with their warmth. It was a glorious feeling…a glorious mishmash of feelings, actually - safety, and excitement, and anticipation, and arousal…
A wide grin broke out on Harry's face as he caught sight of the tell-tale glimmer of gold and accelerated towards it. His Firebolt was as fast as he remembered, but for some reason the snitch was just a bit faster. It was teasing him…leading him on, with fluttering wings keeping it just outside of his grasp. The snitch led him around the far posts, then back towards the home team goals. When it dived through one of the rings, Harry followed, unwilling to deviate from his path. He stretched his body out down the length of his shaft and flew headfirst through the circular opening. As he did so the stands (which at some point had filled with spectators), roared its approval, and Lee Jordan's amplified voice enthusiastically announced that Harry had scored.
And yet he hadn't…the snitch was still ahead of him. Determined to catch it, Harry flew like a banshee, ignoring the crowd…ignoring his now full nakedness, having lost the jersey at some point…and ignoring where the snitch was going as it darted off the field and into the entrance tunnel. His single-minded focus led him into that dark tunnel, but suddenly, instead of flying, he was sliding bare-arsed down a pipe with a banana in his hands instead of his broom…and he realized that he was hungry, but not really hungry for a banana. The passage was dark, and warm, and moist, and enveloping, but Harry didn't mind; it was just as exciting a ride as when he was on his broomstick.
And he fell into the darkness. And fell, and fell, and fell some more. But instead of landing in the Chamber of Secrets, Harry landed feet-first into the showers of the Gryffindor Quidditch team's changing rooms. Which didn't seem like a wrong place to be, given that his naked body was covered in sweat and grime. So Harry turned on one of the showers and stepped underneath the spray.
Tired from his workout, Harry turned towards the wall and leaned his forehead against the smooth tiled surface. He closed his eyes and smiled as the warm spray ran down his back. It was if the water was holding him in a tight embrace, with stray streams of water occasionally spilling over his hip and down his front.
The sound of feminine laughter broke him from his reverie.
“Well, Mr. Potter, it looks like you had a good workout.”
Harry's eyes darted from one side to the other, desperately looking for something to cover himself with. He reluctantly covered his crotch with his two hands and turned to face three nude Gryffindor chasers.
“Don't be shy,” cooed Naked!Angelina, as she walked under the shower to Harry's left. “It's not like we haven't seen you this way before.”
“Yeah, Harry,” added Naked!Alicia, as she joined them. “Although, there is something different this time, isn't there girls?”
“I believe there is,” stated Naked!Katie, as she joined Harry under his shower and rubbed herself against his bare back. She then reached around, grabbed some flesh and announced, “Looks like our Seeker needs his broomstick serviced.”
Scared nearly witless, Harry stammered, “I'm sorry ladies, but I'm obviously in the wrong shower.”
“We don't think so, do we girls?” Naked!Alicia asked, as she stepped towards Harry and placed her hands on his chest. The young witch got nods and giggles in reply.
Harry pushed himself away from the three chasers and said, “Look, girls, I know what you're trying to do, and it's not that I don't appreciate it, but….”
“But you really do think you're in the wrong locker room?” asked Naked!Katie.
Harry nodded.
Naked!Angelina was pouting when she replied, “Well...if you really think so, I guess there's one way to find out.”
“How's that?”
Naked!Katie pointed towards the far wall and said, “The peep hole.”
Harry looked nervously over towards the now-revealed opening. If the Chasers were in this shower, and he felt he was in the wrong place, then the wizard's shower would be on the other side, and he really didn't think he wanted to spy in on his male teammates showering, but he felt oddly compelled to look, and….
“You need to look for yourself,” said Naked!Katie, as she pulled him towards the spy hole.
The opening was just below waist height, so Harry had to drop down onto his hands and knees as he faced the wall. The tiled floor was rough, but not uncomfortable as he leaned forward and placed his eye against the opening.
There was another shower room on the other side, filled with thick clouds of steam cast off from the spray of hot water. Harry could just make out the form of a young witch standing naked under a showerhead. She was facing away from him, bent at the waist as she rinsed shampoo from hair that was flipped forward over her head. The peep hole was just at the right height to place Harry's gaze straight onto an amazingly cute bum that glistened with water droplets and trails of soap that cascaded down her back and disappeared into the cleft between her cheeks. Every few seconds the young witch would shift to one side, then the other, providing Harry with profiled glimpses of her dangling breasts.
She was beautiful.
And when the witch stood up straight and allowed her damp tendrils of brown curly hair to fall back onto her shoulders Harry realized something profound.
She was Hermione.
And at that moment Harry decided that he'd rather be in the other shower room. But when he tried to back away from the peep hole, he discovered that some kind of magic was keeping his face glued to the wall. Harry planted his hands against the wall for leverage, but then they became stuck to the wall as well, as if the tiles were some kind of fly paper, and Harry the fly.
Now, given the view provided him Harry didn't mind too much that he was a fly stuck on the wall. Particularly when Katie joined Hermione in the other shower room and began to discuss the different types of shaving charms. And especially when two pairs of hands began to rub soap up and down Harry's body on his side of the wall. In the back of his mind he felt a little guilty about having Fred and George's girlfriends rubbing their hands all over him, but then they were gits for not telling him about this peep hole right?
The naked wizard let out a moan of satisfied pleasure as the unseen hands worked their magic on him. He was just about to say something to Angelina and Alicia when the two witches that he thought were massaging his muscles entered the scene on the other side of the wall and began to massage Hermione's front and back.
But if all Chasers were on that side, then who was on this side with him?
Suddenly deciding that he really needed to get out of the shower, Harry redoubled his efforts to back away from the wall. But to no avail. Not only was he stuck to the wall, but his eye was stuck open, and that became a bad thing when the fog in the other room thickened to opaqueness, then dissipated to reveal that Hermione's naked body was now being rubbed down not by the Chasers, but by naked versions of Viktor Krum, Terry Boot and Ron Weasley.
“No!” he tried to cry out, but his mouth wasn't working.
His ears were, however, as someone on his side of the wall leaned forward and whispered into his ear.
“Hem, hem.”
Terrorized by the throat clearing, Harry did the only think he could think of and kick his leg out to the side. His foot found a soft target as it impacted rolls of fat and sent a naked Dolores Umbridge spiraling away from him.
Harry's sigh of relief was cut short when he was hit by a spell and his entire body went rigid. And then he felt a hand on his bare bum, and heard a familiar male voice.
“Alright, men.”
“This is it.”
“The big one.”
“The one I've been waiting for….”
Harry felt his magic push out in a wave of terror, and suddenly his arms and legs were free and he started to push and punch and kick, and….
“Harry…Harry, stop…you're having a nightmare!”
At the sound of the female voice Harry stopped squirming within the tight embrace that was holding him relatively still and took a deep breath. And then a few more.
“Ssssh...it's alright, it was just a bad dream….it was just a bad dream…”
Desperate for confirmation of that fact, Harry reached up and grabbed hold of the person sharing his bed. The body was soft, and round, and had breasts. He let out a sigh of relief.
Katie gently pushed Harry's groping hands away and pulled his head to her chest. She thought that he was just looking for something solid to grasp. Her bedmate never did tell her that he was really just trying to make sure that he was in the arms of his new Quidditch team captain, rather than his old one.