Chapter 4
Author's Note:
It was during Harry Potter's fourth year at Hogwarts that both he and his best mate Ron began showing definite signs of interest in the opposite sex. The following amusing anecdote is the only one submitted to me from that pivotal year.
For several days Ron had been in a strange mood. At first Harry hadn't noticed, being preoccupied the question of whom he might go with to the Yule Ball and fretting over the fact that he had missed his chance to take Cho Chang. But of late it had been increasingly hard not to notice.
One evening near the end of term he, Ron and Hermione were sitting in the Gryffindor common room wrestling with an impossibly long essay they had been assigned that day by Professor Snape on the uses and potentially fatal misuse of Screeving Juice. Ron seemed unable to focus at all, staring absently into the blazing fire in the common room fireplace, chewing on the end of his quill, now and then heaving a heavy sigh and occasionally scowling and muttering.
"What is wrong with you?" Harry cried, finally exasperated.
"Nothing's wrong with me? I'm fine!"
"Ron, you're obviously not fine," Hermione replied. "You've been moping about for days, and yesterday you didn't have more than a chicken wing at dinner. When you don't eat, I know something's wrong."
Without warning Ron slammed his book shut, grabbed up his sheaf of scrolls, and stalked out of the common room.
"What do you reckon is eating him?" Harry asked.
"I have no idea. Is it the Triwizard thing? I thought he was over it."
"I don't know. But I'm getting tired of it, I know that," Harry replied.
Later that evening Harry and Ron happened to be by themselves in their dorm room. Harry had given up on the essay, fended off several admirers who wanted to talk about the Goblet of Fire, said goodnight to Hermione and come up early, fed up with the attention he was still getting from his fellow Gryffindors over his success with the Hungarian Horntail. He found Ron lying on his bed, hands behind his head, staring at the canopy overhead.
Harry tossed his robe aside, kicked off his shoes and flopped onto his own bed. He turned to Ron.
"So what is it with you? You've been shirty for days," he asked.
Ron looked at Harry, then looked away without responding.
"Listen mate, everyone is noticing. You need to snap out of it. The Yule Ball is coming up, and you can't be moping about."
Ron snorted. "You're `avin' a laugh! Couldn't care less about that, could I? The Yule Ball! The highlight of my year! Can't blinkin' wait."
Harry considered this a second. "It doesn't mean anything that Fleur turned you down, you know. She's--"
"Oh yeah, it means nothing all right," Ron retorted vehemently, his face reddening. "And I suppose it's nothing that even Hermione . . . "
"Look, it isn't like I've got a date either."
"Yeah, but you will. It's only a matter of time. You're in the Triwizard! You beat the dragon! You're the chosen one! And Dean's got someone! And Seamus! What have I got? I'm just . . . "
Harry stared hard at Ron. He had rarely seen his friend so disturbed. And yet -- something told him there was more to Ron's distress than his failure to get a date.
"It's not just that," Harry stated flatly. "Something else is wrong."
Ron was silent another moment, then turned and stared at Harry. Suddenly he stood up and, as Harry watched in surprise, began taking his clothes off.
In a moment he stood naked.
"That's what's wrong!" he half-choked, emotion in his voice.
"What?"
"What do you mean, what? Are you effin' blind?"
Harry stared at Ron's body.
"What are you on about? I've seen you naked a bunch of times! Nothing's changed!"
"Yeah that's right! Nothing's changed! Nothing's changed since I was a little kid!"
"Are you . . . " Harry hesitated, not wanting to seem unkind. "Are you talking about your willie?"
"What else!?" Ron wailed. "It's like, tiny! All you blokes are getting huger and huger! Every first-year's bigger than me! And you're the worst! I mean, you're like a blinkin' horse and you're only a fourth-year! What do you think it's like to have your best mate have a monster willie and me with . . .this!"
Ron gestured in disgust at the inch-long nub surrounded by a small mat of copper-colored pubic hair.
"Man, it doesn't matter! Nobody cares! Plus we learned everybody's timing is different and stuff. It's inherited." Even as he said it Harry knew it was no good.
"It's not inherited! Fred and George were bigger than me when they were way younger than I am! They used to . . . well, we used to, you know, do stuff . . ."
"You mean, you'd like wank each other and all that?"
`Well, you know, they'd show me their dicks, all hard, and they'd do stuff with each other and I'd watch, but they'd be teasing me all the time for being small, it was . . . awful . . . "
Ron slumped back down on the edge of his bed. It was the first time that Harry had ever seen Ron in tears. Or nearly so.
"It . . .it hasn't grown at all?" he said, his voice softer and more sympathetic.
"None! It was like this when I was a little kid! I mean, I got pubes, I can spunk up, I had two growth spurts and all that but -- nothing! I don't even feel like . . ."
"Feel like what?"
"I dunno. Like I'm somebody someone would want to date!"
Seeing Ron's distress Harry decided it was hardly the time to point out that a simple date to a dance did not require a penis of any particular size. And it did seem a bit odd. Here was Ron, more than a head taller than Harry now, with, he had to admit, some pretty good muscles, his voice had started to change, and yet --.
"Maybe there's a charm or something . . . " Harry offered hopefully.
"A charm?"
"Well, yeah. There's charms for just about everything, right?"
"You mean, a willie-growing charm?" Ron was incredulous at the suggestion.
"Well, it could be! You're probably not the first wizard who had, you know . . . "
"A midget dick!" Ron cried in exasperation.
"Ask Flitwick! Or maybe Pratt!"
"I'm not gonna go on about my willie to a professor! It's embarrassing!"
"Maybe you could research it!"
"Yeah, right. I'll just toddle on down to the library and ask Ms. Pince could she pretty please help me find a book that'll help my dick grow! Don't be daft!"
The boys were both silent for a minute.
"What about Hermione?" Harry finally ventured. "She's practically an expert on research. Half the time she knows stuff the professors don't even know!"
Ron looked positively shocked. He leaned forward, elbows on knees.
"Hermione! Oh, now that's rich! Here Hermione, have a good look at my midget-dick! Look at how pathetic it is! No wonder you turned me down! Could you please find me a charm so I can fix it? Or better yet, maybe you could do the spell yourself! Just wave your wand a bit-- "
"Look you dimwit, I'm just trying to help!" Harry snapped.
Ron was silent, then lay back on his bed.
"Sorry," he muttered.
They were silent again.
"We'll figure something out," Harry finally said, sounding reassuring.
"`We?'" Ron asked, his voice a bit quavery.
"We're mates! Now you've told me about it it's my problem too, innit?" Harry replied, trying but failing to sound annoyed.
Ron looked over at him. The boys locked eyes.
Ron finally gave a little smirk, and Harry smirked back.
"Well, at least I can spunk up a bit," Ron muttered.
"A bit? You're a blinkin' fountain!" Harry replied, glad to be able to boost Ron' confidence a bit.
Ron grunted. They were silent again.
"Kinda early to kip down," Ron finally observed.
`Whattya wanna do?"
Ron gave a crooked little smile, and one hand slid down his long pale belly and came to rest in his red bush.
"Well, the fountain isn't dry yet!"
Harry grinned. "Race ya!" he cried.
"Right! Ready!?"
"Hold on, gimme a minute," Harry replied, hurriedly throwing off the rest of his clothes and then lying back down on his bed. He slid his hand downward too and began to caress his remarkably long 14-year-old organ.
"OK, Go!"
Several days had passed. After their talk Ron and Harry seemed more at ease with each other, but Ron was still morose and mopey.
"I've been thinking' about it," Harry finally muttered to Ron as they sat together in Professor Binns's classroom waiting for History of Magic to begin.
"About what?"
"You know."
"Oh. That."
"Have you come up with anything?"
Ron shook his head, downcast.
"I really think we should ask Hermione for help."
Ron stared at Harry. "No blinkin' way!"
"OK, how about this. We'll tell her it's my problem."
"Serious? You don't -- care what she . . . ?"
Harry sighed. "Not really. So many people have so many opinions about me, and most of `em are rubbish. What's one more? Besides, I'm not the one who sort of, you know . . ."
"Sort of what?"
"Well, sort of likes her."
Ron stared at Harry. "Likes her like -- a girlfriend? Don't be daft. Just because I asked her to the ball doesn't mean anything. It was Fleur . . ."
Harry didn't press it.
"Right. Well anyway, I'm gonna ask her for help with my . . . problem. I'm gonna ask her tomorrow at breakfast. You should be there too, so you're sort of givin' me support, like. I'll wager she comes up with something, a charm or other kind of spell, and then once we've got it you can do it on yourself. She'll never know it's for you, not me."
Ron considered this.
"You don't think she's heard, you know, the rumor?"
"What rumor?"
"The rumor about your monster willie, you prat!"
Harry smiled a bit, and for the first time in his life felt a wave of pride in his unusual endowment.
"It's not just a rumor!" he smirked.
"Hey Hermione, you're super-good at research. I was wondering if maybe you could help me research -- a certain charm."
Hermione looked up at Harry from her sausage and eggs and blinked. "A charm? What kind of charm?"
"Kind of like an enlarging charm. To make something bigger."
Hermione put down her fork with an interested look on her face.
"Well, there's the Engorgement charm, of course. We had that second year. Would that work? What do you want to make bigger?"
Harry looked about and lowered his voice a bit. "Well, it should be a charm that you can use on, you know, a body part."
There was silence as Hermione digested this.
"So this is something for quidditch," Hermione guessed. "Like arms a bit longer to grab that golden ball thing, or perhaps bigger muscles in your legs to help you with takeoffs, or . . ."
"Well, not exactly . . . "
There was another pause.
"He's kind of embarrassed about it," Ron offered. He glanced around the dining hall, which was mostly empty of students now.
Hermione blinked, and her face suddenly showed a mixture of shock and a faint amusement as well.
"You don't mean . . ." she began.
Harry nodded, eyes downcast, trying his best to look embarrassed.
"Oh my gosh Harry, don't be silly! You know your size doesn't make any difference! Professor Pratt explained how the vagina naturally molds to whatever shape and size--"
"Yeah, but--"
"And besides, everyone has their own growth rate! You're still only 14!"
"Everybody on our floor has a way bigger one, and most of `em are only 14 too!" Ron protested with some vehemence.
Hermione frowned. "OK . . . "
"And besides, it's not just about, you know, sex. It's about confidence. A guy doesn't feel like he, you know, measures up to other guys if . . . " Ron continued.
"Oh my goodness, you boys are so ridiculous . . . wait a minute! Is this for you Harry, or . . . ?" She looked at Ron, who colored violently.
"Um, sure, of course! Why else would I be asking?"
"I heard . . . " Hermione colored noticeably herself. "Well, it's probably just a stupid rumor . . . "
The three looked at each other in silence.
"What rumor?" Harry had to ask, knowing perfectly well what rumor she was referring to.
"It's really important to him, Hermione!" Ron interrupted with some urgency.
Hermione gave Ron a long, skeptical look. Ron swallowed in desperate discomfort. Finally she turned to Harry.
"I don't know about using the Engorgement charm on a body part. It might be dangerous. But I'm sure if you just asked Professor Pratt -- I mean, he's so easy to talk to about everything. When Miranda Simple had that pregnancy scare she said he was so understanding, she wasn't embarrassed at all to talk to him about it, he made her feel so comfortable."
"No, it's -- it's just too weird for me to talk with an adult about, y'know," Harry said.
"Hm. That doesn't sound like you, Harry" Hermione murmured, almost to herself.
Her tone became brisk. "Anyway, yes, I'll see what I can find out."
"Thanks Hermione, said Ron, a very relieved look on his face.
"Yeah, thanks, Hermione."
Hermione got to her feet. "We have a good halfhour before Potions. Enough time to drop by the library for a bit of research. See you." As she left she gave Ron another unreadable look.
When she had left both boys sank back into their chairs with simultaneous exhalations of relief.
"That went OK," Harry opined.
Ron licked his lips. "D'you think she suspected?"
"Well, you did seem like you were even more eager than I was for her help," Harry observed. Then, seeing the look of dismay on Ron's face, he soothed, "It'll turn out fine, you'll see. She doesn't suspect a thing."
Ron swallowed. "Yeah, for someone who's such a brain she's kind of, I don't know, naive or something, right?"
Seeing the desperate look on his friend's face Harry could only reply, "Yeah, she really is."
"I've found it," Hermione announced the next morning at breakfast.
"Yeah?" Harry and Ron exclaimed in unison.
"It's a bit tricky, but it should work. It takes a charm and this paste you make up, and help from another person as well."
Harry stopped, a forkful of beef and onion pie halfway to his mouth.
"Help?" Ron squeaked.
Hermione took on a professorial tone. "Yes. Enlarging a body part is much different from enlarging an object, like a book or a shoe. The Engorgement charm won't work. And the body part is attached to the body, so unless you use this particular paste that you concoct you wind up enlarging everything. The charm and the paste work together, apparently. And since this charm is for a body part of, um, an intimate nature, another person must apply the paste. To the, um, particular body part. You can't put the charm and the paste on yourself. It must be someone for whom you have, um, very close feelings. They have to do it. It's a sort of sex charm, after all."
"Intimate feelings?" Harry muttered.
"You mean -- someone you've had, um, relations with?" asked Ron.
"That's where it's a bit confusing, I'm afraid. I'm not sure, but I think either prior relations or the desire for relations. You know . . ."
There was silence.
"You mean, like, attraction?" Harry asked softly.
"Oh for heaven's sake, do I have to spell it out for you? To enlarge the male penis the paste must be applied and the spell must be cast by someone to whom you have been, or want to be, sexual, Harry!"
"Oh."
More silence.
"Is there someone . . . I mean, everyone knows you have thing for Cho, but -- you and she haven't really . . . "
"No, we haven't," Harry admitted, unable to keep a little bitterness out of his voice.
"Well, I know how you boys are. Half of you are keen to jump all over anyone who'll look at you twice, so I'm sure you'll have no problem finding someone who attracts you -- heaven knows most of you have no discrimination at all. You've just got to find someone who'll be willing to, you know . . ."
"To rub stuff all over my willie? What girl is going to do that!?" Ron cried, exasperation in his voice.
Then suddenly, horror crept over his face.
"YOUR . . . willie?" Hermione asked quietly, looking not a bit surprised.
It was so silent Ron's swallow was almost audible.
His eyes darted about, as if looking for something, anything to use to deny, to cancel what he had just said.
"I mean, Harry's willie," he finally stammered.
There was more silence.
"It's no good, mate," Harry finally said. "She knows."
Ron slumped back in his chair, unable to look at Hermione, his bright red face a study in humiliation.
Suddenly Hermione announced, "Right. I suspected as much. I've thought this through. Here's what we'll do. You two meet me tomorrow evening at 7 sharp in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. No one will find us there -- I know how to get rid of Myrtle, so we'll be alone. By then I'll have made up the paste -- it's really a very simple thing, a bit like a poultice. Once we're there I can do the charm but I'm not about to put the stuff all over your -- thing, so we'll need Harry for that. Don't!" she held up her hand as Harry was about to interrupt.
"It's common knowledge all you randy boys play with each other all the time, don't insult my intelligence by denying it. As I said, Harry you'll put the paste on, which will also get him aroused. Ron, once you're aroused you can direct you arousal toward me." She colored slightly. "Hopefully that won't be too difficult. Once three things are present -- paste, erection, and object of attraction -- I can then do the charm."
Hermione delicately dabbed her lips with her napkin and arose.
"I have some notes to reread before Transfigurations. I hope you two are prepared for the transformations today. Should be interesting to watch everyone trying to turn a teacup into a gerbil."
Harry and Ron arrived at Moaning Myrtle's bathroom at 7 pm on the dot.
"Let's wait for Hermione," Ron suggested, licking his lips nervously. "I don't want to deal with that weird ghost --"
The door swung open and Hermione appeared, a satisfied smile on her face.
"I've got things all ready, I think," she announced, wiping her hands on a towel. "Myrtle's safely out of the way."
"How'd you do that?" Harry asked.
"I told her I was meeting Peeves in here for a very important private conversation. Poor thing, she's terrified of him, you know -- he's really so cruel to her."
The three entered the bathroom. Hermione went over to a small pot of something greenish-brown sitting on the edge of one sink. She reached in and stirred it several times with the base of her wand.
"This is erotosalve. Really quite interesting to make. You have to keep it stirred so the contents don't separate."
"With your wand?" Ron asked, a grimace on his face.
"Apparently it intensifies the effect somewhat. Not absolutely necessary, but strongly recommended. Now Harry, you'll need to spread this all over Ron's--"
"I know where to spread it, Hermione," said Harry.
Ron looked intensely uncomfortable.
"Hmph," said Hermione. "Now I shan't look while you're busy, Harry. Shouldn't take long, I reckon."
With that Hermione folded her ams and turned her back on the two boys.
Ron and Harry looked at each other.
"Well, Hermione's right, it's not like we haven't--" said Harry.
"Right. So I guess we should get on with it . . . "
With that Ron unfastened his robe and tossed it aside. He then carefully removed the rest of his clothes, folding them more neatly than Harry had ever seen him do and placing them on the edge of a nearby washbasin. When he finished he stood awkwardly in front of Harry, weight first on one leg, the on the other.
His tall lean body shone white in the glaring overhead light. Harry's eyes went to the stub of a penis nestled in Ron's copper pubes. He swallowed, then picked up the jar of paste and sniffed it.
"Doesn't smell like much," he opined.
"Good. At least I won't reek afterwards."
Harry took a deep breath, exhaled, swirled two fingers in the greenish stuff and scooped out a large glob. He knelt in front of Ron and looked up.
"Ready?"
"Christ, just do it!"
At that Harry wrapped his salve-filled hand around Ron's cock.
"Yah!" cried Ron, giving a jump.
"Whatsamatter?" Harry cried.
"It's -- I dunno, feels strange!"
"Does it hurt?"
"Doesn't hurt. It's -- I'm OK. Get on with it."
With that Harry reached out to Ron's willie and began rubbing the paste into it. Ron sharply drew a breath through clenched teeth and stiffened, the plates of his long 14-year-old six-pack tensing, then relaxing.
Harry continued to rub and soon Ron's organ began to enlarge. Before long Harry was no longer swirling the salve in with two fingers, but filling his entire palm and caressing the length of Ron's 4-inch erection. Ron's cock, creamy-bodied and red-headed like he was, glistened from tip to base as Harry's hand worked up and down with increasing speed. Ron began to breathe heavily.
"OK, I think that's probably enough. I'm . . . "
"You're blinkin' ready to blow, all right," Harry agreed, withdrawing his hand, reaching under his robe and wiping it awkwardly on his jeans.
"OK, Hermione," muttered Harry, rising and stepping aside.
Hermione turned around, drawing her wand from within her robe. She approached Ron and stared into his eyes. Ron stared back, looking utterly helpless. Hermione drew unnaturally close and then licked her lips, still gazing into Ron's wide eyes. Her face was flushed and a little sweaty. She raised one slightly shaky hand and, using just her fingertip, placed it lightly just above Ron's left nipple. The boy gasped, astonished. She drew her fingertip slowly down Ron's chest and onto his slightly panting belly. A slight tremor seemed to pass through her, and at the same moment Ron's organ gave a lurch and seemed to grow a bit longer as it reached out to Hermione.
"Ready?" Hermione asked, unable to keep the trembling from her voice.
Ron could only swallow hard and nod, his eyes still locked onto Hermione's.
Hermione stepped back and pointed her wand straight at Ron's bursting erection.
"Augeo et extendo!" she cried, giving her wand a couple of upward flicks.
There was silence in the room as all three stared at Ron's organ. It glistened and throbbed slightly with his heartbeat, but didn't budge.
They waited.
"Something's wrong," Ron proclaimed flatly.
"Weren't you . . . " Hermione began haltingly, almost looking as if she were about to cry. "Weren't you feeling . . ."
"Um yeah, Hermione," Ron gulped. "I can't believe it, but -- yeah!"
"What do you mean, you can't believe it?" Hermione asked indignantly.
"Try it again!" urged Harry.
Hermione drew herself up and was about to retort when Harry stepped forward, grabbed her as carefully as he could behind her neck, and pushed her gently forward.
"Kiss him!" he insisted.
Hermione froze, but Ron suddenly plunged forward and plastered his lips roughly against Hermione's. And as he did, it happened.
Ron gave a cry, pulled away and stared down at his groin. The others stared too. Hermione wiped her mouth, looking more than a little flustered.
Ron's organ was at least a half inch longer than it had been, and a bit wider. As the three watched, spellbound, it gave another lurch and grew another inch in length.
"Ah!" cried Ron.
"It's working!" Hermione cried, so delighted at her success she seemed to forget all about feeling insulted.
"It blinkin' hurts!" cried Ron, reaching toward his organ as if to caress it but then hesitating.
"Yah!" he cried again, as his penis jerked forward to a full seven erect inches, now as thick as a good sized banger.
"All right, Ron!" Harry cried, delighted for his best friend.
"Ahh!" Ron cried, as his organ grew still more.
"Hermione, what if it doesn't stop?" he cried.
"Um . . . well, I didn't really . . ."
"You don't know how to stop it? You--AH!"
Ron's penis was now more than twice its original length and the thickness of a good-sized cucumber.
All three young people stared wide-eyed as Ron's organ continued to grow . . . and grow . . . and grow . . .
"Stop it! Oh my God!" Ron was nearly hysterical, grabbing his huge organ, which was now as thick as a baguette and seemed to stand out from his body nearly a foot.
Harry suddenly pulled out his wand.
"Immobilus!" he cried, as he gave his wand a sideways twitch.
Ron's organ continued to grow.
"Oh right!" Hermione exclaimed. "But you've got to --here -- Immobilus!" she cried, slashing her own wand downward instead.
They waited.
What happened next caused them all a huge sigh of relief -- for nothing at all happened. Ron's still-erect penis, standing straight out from his body, thick and swollen and creamy pink -- no longer grew. It just remained bizarrely huge and hard, pointing directly at Hermione. She appeared almost mesmerized as she stared at it.
"Has it -- stopped?" Harry asked.
"I -- I think so," Ron replied.
"But, Ron, you can't go around -- I mean, it's too big, isn't it?" Hermione finally blurted. "I know some wizards have . . . but this . . ."
"Can you shrink it?" Harry asked. "There's a shrinking charm, isn't there?"
"No, man, this is great!" protested Ron. "It's stopped now. When a few of our mates get a look at that, think of my reputation then!"
A slight smile curled Harry's lip.
"Yeah, I guess they won't be talking about mine any more! Fine with me!"
"Oh for heaven's sake, you two are ridiculous," protested Hermione, still looking a bit flushed and flustered. "This whole thing is ridiculous! I can't believe I let you talk me into it. Harry, you can't have forgotten the Shrinking charm, we learned it in second year!"
"I guess maybe it wouldn't hurt to get it a bit smaller," Ron offered with a lopsided grin. "Just a bit."
"D'you think we need more of the paste?" Harry asked. "There's a bit more in here."
"Can't hurt," sniffed Hermione. "But I'm leaving. You two can just . . . do whatever boys like to do with their--"
"Hermione!" Ron interrupted.
She stopped.
Ron suddenly leaned forward, grabbed her by both arms, and planted a big kiss right on her startled, half-open mouth.
A minute later, as Harry stroked the remainder of the salve down Ron's long, hot shaft in slow, careful strokes, the two exchanged knowing, exultant grins.