Het Harry? From HEDWIG'S BANE???
All right, not really. If this story had progressed as far as I had originally intended, it would have been a typical Harry/Ron. Typical for me, at least. But then I came upon something I thought was quite funny, and I knew to take the story past that point would take away from it.
So I'm offering it as just one of those conversations that might occur between friends in a boarding school dormitory. I will redeem myself with my next Harry/Ron smut heavy fic. I promise...
Title: "The Need to Know"
Author:
hedwigs_bane
Beta:
weetziecat (though she'll deny it)
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Harry, Ron (but not paired)
Word Count:1,523 + 4 (title)
The Need to Know
“You’re a real prick, Weasley, y’know that?” Harry growled, having expected more from the boy who he had thought was his best friend. They had faced so many dangers together, Harry had saved his little sister’s life, and he had even dragged Ron up from the bottom of the lake (though he had not been in any real danger - but Harry hadn’t know that, had he?). He would have thought that he could count on his supposed best mate to control himself enough for a rational conversation about Harry’s fears.
From the first moment he thought about it, he knew Ron was the only one he could feel safe enough around to discuss it. At times like this, he truly missed not having a family, people who truly cared about him and wouldn’t judge him as he tried to come to grips with this latest in a lifetime’s worth of insecurities.
He had miscast Ron in this role, apparently. He had always thought of him as a stalwart, non-judgmental, trusted confidant. Now he was beginning to think that he was little more than a child; an immature, shallow, insensitive child! Harry couldn’t understand why he was surprised by this, not after Ron had shown his true colors the previous year, accusing Harry of scheming and lying. Still, when he had apologized after the First Task (no, wait! He never really did apologize, did he?), he thought that maybe Ron had grown up a bit. How wrong he was!
Now, he scowled across the space separating their two beds, disappointed that Ron had not lived up to his expectations. A nagging voice in the back of his head told him that it was his own fault for projecting personality traits upon Ron that now seemed to be nothing but wishful thinking. Well, in the future he’d know better!
Harry had just started to stand up to leave the dorm when Ron spoke.
“Well, blimey, Harry,” Ron choked out through his wheezing guffaws. “Only I wasn’t quite ready for… that!” Though he still glared, Harry was willing to admit that it wasn’t the sort of discussion that one would expect, after all. He gave Ron a bit more time to compose himself, which he actually did rather admirably, Harry reluctantly decided. “All right,” Ron sighed. “I’m sorry, but what the hell made you ask that?”
Harry’s anger was now tempered by his need to know, and by his realization that Ron really did deserve some explanation. It wasn’t as if they’d been discussing, or had ever discussed, this particular subject. Ron could hardly be expected to know what was going on in Harry’s mind, especially since Harry wasn’t even sure half the time. At fifteen years of age, Harry had never felt the need to deal with the issue at all.
But that had all changed in an instant, in the blink of an eye or, rather, in the meeting of lips. His unexpected and rather bizarre experience with Cho Chang in the Room of Requirement had opened the lid on a Pandora’s Box of new possibilities and new doubts. Yes, he had been attracted to her the previous year, and had even asked her to the Yule Ball, albeit unsuccessfully. But the idea of fully entering into a romantic relationship hadn’t even occurred to him at the time. Now it seemed that they were already in one, and Harry found himself singularly unprepared.
Handholding, snogging, hugging, all those he was pretty sure he could do, or at least learn in short order. But what if things progressed beyond that? What if the day should come when Cho expected more, and Harry wasn’t ready? What if he showed himself to be the inexperienced, fumbling kid he knew himself to be? Worst of all, what if Cho found him to be inadequate?
“It’s Cho,” Harry finally said. He didn’t know why, but whatever snorting laughter Ron had still been trying to stifle was suddenly cut off by a gasp of surprise.
“Cho?” Ron said quietly, almost reverently. “Cho Chang? Harry, did she… did you… did you two..? I thought all you did was kiss!”
“We didn’t!” Harry sputtered. “I mean, we did. Kiss, I mean. That’s all we did!”
“So,” Ron shook his head looking thoroughly befuddled, “why do you want to know…”
“Well, what if we do more some day?” Harry pleaded for Ron’s understanding, too desperate for information to care about how stupid he might sound. “What if she’s all ready, and I drop my pants, and… and…”
“And she laughs at your titchy todger?” Ron finished Harry’s question for him, but without the laughter Harry would have expected. Instead, he smiled somewhat sympathetically.
“Yeah,” Harry grunted, hanging his head.
“Aw, Harry,” Ron said bracingly. “I’m sure it’s fine. Maybe it’s not a record-breaker or anything, but it’s big enough for anything you’re likely to need it for. Besides,” he added, a note of curiosity in his voice, “what makes you think Cho’s ever gonna let you get under her robes?”
“Well, I just thought that now that we’re, I dunno, dating, I guess…”
“That’s she’s not going to be able to resist famous Harry Potter’s charms?” Ron smirked.
“Ron,” Harry growled warningly, still too tense to allow himself to be laughed at again.
“All right, all right,” Ron surrendered. “The answer is, I don’t really know, not for sure, anyway. I’ve heard things, but it depends on who you talk to. I mean, Seamus seems to think that anything less than nine inches isn’t worth pissin’ with, but we all know how full of dragon shit he is. The way he talks, he probably has the smallest one out of all of us.”
Harry couldn’t help the snort of laughter that followed Ron’s estimation of their roommate. Nor could he help but share in that appraisal. Even Fred and George had speculated that all of Seamus Finnigan’s talk was more likely to be overcompensation for what he considered insufficient tackle. From what glimpses Harry had caught of it in the showers, it didn’t seem much different than his or any of the other fifth year’s cocks. But even despite his inexperience, Harry knew that the proof was in the pudding, so to speak, and that a penis could only be properly measured when it was erect.
Harry had seen exactly one erect penis in his life, and had been seeing it more and more often ever since the end of his second year at Hogwarts. He sometimes amazed himself with just how many times he could toss off in a single day, but until recently, concerns about its size had never even entered his mind. Hell, he’d been happy just to have worked out the mechanics of self-pleasuring, and relieved to discover that things down there worked the way they were supposed to.
“Anyway,” Ron continued, sounding ever so slightly like Hermione explaining proper wand technique. “From what I can suss out, I think six inches is just about average.”
“Six inches?” Harry started, his insecurities again gaining purchase.
“Yeah, from what I heard,” Ron nodded casually.
Harry’s heart fell. He knew it! He knew it had to be smaller than normal. He had known it when he lay behind his bed curtains, his lit wand in one hand, a ruler in the other, disappointed as the head of his hard cock just failed to reach the five inch mark.
Typical. Just another sign that he was meant to have a short, miserable life, never able to live up to the expectations of others. Famous Harry Potter and His Titchy Todger, as Ron had put it, would be just the sort of news that could get Rita Skeeter wet between the thighs, though other females would likely be less titillated.
“Of course,” Ron still went on, “that’s full grown, y’know?”
“What’s that mean?” Harry asked, thinking he could hear a life preserver landing in the water.
“Well, it’s not like it’s always been as long as it is now, right?” Ron reasoned. “It’s just like everything else on ya. It grows.”
“How long?”
“I thought I just explained that,” Ron huffed.
“No, I meant how long does it keep growing?” Harry clarified. “How old do you get before it stops growing? I mean, it can’t keep growing forever, right? If it did, someone as old as Dumbledore would have to sling it up over his shoulder!”
Harry, having so much invested in the conversation, was caught off guard as he watched Ron fall from his bed and roll on the floor laughing. At first he felt his anger rising again. Then, after a quick mental review, he realized just how hilarious the image he had suggested was. His diaphragm began to spasm, and soon he too was dusting the floorboards, howling with laughter right along with Ron.
The image of Dumbledore with a long fleshy appendage hanging over his shoulder surely had something to do with a concern Harry had recently been distressing over, but for the life of him, he couldn’t quite remember what it was as he clutched his aching sides.
So I'm offering it as just one of those conversations that might occur between friends in a boarding school dormitory. I will redeem myself with my next Harry/Ron smut heavy fic. I promise...
Title: "The Need to Know"
Author:
hedwigs_bane
Beta:
weetziecat (though she'll deny it)
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Harry, Ron (but not paired)
Word Count:1,523 + 4 (title)
The Need to Know
“You’re a real prick, Weasley, y’know that?” Harry growled, having expected more from the boy who he had thought was his best friend. They had faced so many dangers together, Harry had saved his little sister’s life, and he had even dragged Ron up from the bottom of the lake (though he had not been in any real danger - but Harry hadn’t know that, had he?). He would have thought that he could count on his supposed best mate to control himself enough for a rational conversation about Harry’s fears.
From the first moment he thought about it, he knew Ron was the only one he could feel safe enough around to discuss it. At times like this, he truly missed not having a family, people who truly cared about him and wouldn’t judge him as he tried to come to grips with this latest in a lifetime’s worth of insecurities.
He had miscast Ron in this role, apparently. He had always thought of him as a stalwart, non-judgmental, trusted confidant. Now he was beginning to think that he was little more than a child; an immature, shallow, insensitive child! Harry couldn’t understand why he was surprised by this, not after Ron had shown his true colors the previous year, accusing Harry of scheming and lying. Still, when he had apologized after the First Task (no, wait! He never really did apologize, did he?), he thought that maybe Ron had grown up a bit. How wrong he was!
Now, he scowled across the space separating their two beds, disappointed that Ron had not lived up to his expectations. A nagging voice in the back of his head told him that it was his own fault for projecting personality traits upon Ron that now seemed to be nothing but wishful thinking. Well, in the future he’d know better!
Harry had just started to stand up to leave the dorm when Ron spoke.
“Well, blimey, Harry,” Ron choked out through his wheezing guffaws. “Only I wasn’t quite ready for… that!” Though he still glared, Harry was willing to admit that it wasn’t the sort of discussion that one would expect, after all. He gave Ron a bit more time to compose himself, which he actually did rather admirably, Harry reluctantly decided. “All right,” Ron sighed. “I’m sorry, but what the hell made you ask that?”
Harry’s anger was now tempered by his need to know, and by his realization that Ron really did deserve some explanation. It wasn’t as if they’d been discussing, or had ever discussed, this particular subject. Ron could hardly be expected to know what was going on in Harry’s mind, especially since Harry wasn’t even sure half the time. At fifteen years of age, Harry had never felt the need to deal with the issue at all.
But that had all changed in an instant, in the blink of an eye or, rather, in the meeting of lips. His unexpected and rather bizarre experience with Cho Chang in the Room of Requirement had opened the lid on a Pandora’s Box of new possibilities and new doubts. Yes, he had been attracted to her the previous year, and had even asked her to the Yule Ball, albeit unsuccessfully. But the idea of fully entering into a romantic relationship hadn’t even occurred to him at the time. Now it seemed that they were already in one, and Harry found himself singularly unprepared.
Handholding, snogging, hugging, all those he was pretty sure he could do, or at least learn in short order. But what if things progressed beyond that? What if the day should come when Cho expected more, and Harry wasn’t ready? What if he showed himself to be the inexperienced, fumbling kid he knew himself to be? Worst of all, what if Cho found him to be inadequate?
“It’s Cho,” Harry finally said. He didn’t know why, but whatever snorting laughter Ron had still been trying to stifle was suddenly cut off by a gasp of surprise.
“Cho?” Ron said quietly, almost reverently. “Cho Chang? Harry, did she… did you… did you two..? I thought all you did was kiss!”
“We didn’t!” Harry sputtered. “I mean, we did. Kiss, I mean. That’s all we did!”
“So,” Ron shook his head looking thoroughly befuddled, “why do you want to know…”
“Well, what if we do more some day?” Harry pleaded for Ron’s understanding, too desperate for information to care about how stupid he might sound. “What if she’s all ready, and I drop my pants, and… and…”
“And she laughs at your titchy todger?” Ron finished Harry’s question for him, but without the laughter Harry would have expected. Instead, he smiled somewhat sympathetically.
“Yeah,” Harry grunted, hanging his head.
“Aw, Harry,” Ron said bracingly. “I’m sure it’s fine. Maybe it’s not a record-breaker or anything, but it’s big enough for anything you’re likely to need it for. Besides,” he added, a note of curiosity in his voice, “what makes you think Cho’s ever gonna let you get under her robes?”
“Well, I just thought that now that we’re, I dunno, dating, I guess…”
“That’s she’s not going to be able to resist famous Harry Potter’s charms?” Ron smirked.
“Ron,” Harry growled warningly, still too tense to allow himself to be laughed at again.
“All right, all right,” Ron surrendered. “The answer is, I don’t really know, not for sure, anyway. I’ve heard things, but it depends on who you talk to. I mean, Seamus seems to think that anything less than nine inches isn’t worth pissin’ with, but we all know how full of dragon shit he is. The way he talks, he probably has the smallest one out of all of us.”
Harry couldn’t help the snort of laughter that followed Ron’s estimation of their roommate. Nor could he help but share in that appraisal. Even Fred and George had speculated that all of Seamus Finnigan’s talk was more likely to be overcompensation for what he considered insufficient tackle. From what glimpses Harry had caught of it in the showers, it didn’t seem much different than his or any of the other fifth year’s cocks. But even despite his inexperience, Harry knew that the proof was in the pudding, so to speak, and that a penis could only be properly measured when it was erect.
Harry had seen exactly one erect penis in his life, and had been seeing it more and more often ever since the end of his second year at Hogwarts. He sometimes amazed himself with just how many times he could toss off in a single day, but until recently, concerns about its size had never even entered his mind. Hell, he’d been happy just to have worked out the mechanics of self-pleasuring, and relieved to discover that things down there worked the way they were supposed to.
“Anyway,” Ron continued, sounding ever so slightly like Hermione explaining proper wand technique. “From what I can suss out, I think six inches is just about average.”
“Six inches?” Harry started, his insecurities again gaining purchase.
“Yeah, from what I heard,” Ron nodded casually.
Harry’s heart fell. He knew it! He knew it had to be smaller than normal. He had known it when he lay behind his bed curtains, his lit wand in one hand, a ruler in the other, disappointed as the head of his hard cock just failed to reach the five inch mark.
Typical. Just another sign that he was meant to have a short, miserable life, never able to live up to the expectations of others. Famous Harry Potter and His Titchy Todger, as Ron had put it, would be just the sort of news that could get Rita Skeeter wet between the thighs, though other females would likely be less titillated.
“Of course,” Ron still went on, “that’s full grown, y’know?”
“What’s that mean?” Harry asked, thinking he could hear a life preserver landing in the water.
“Well, it’s not like it’s always been as long as it is now, right?” Ron reasoned. “It’s just like everything else on ya. It grows.”
“How long?”
“I thought I just explained that,” Ron huffed.
“No, I meant how long does it keep growing?” Harry clarified. “How old do you get before it stops growing? I mean, it can’t keep growing forever, right? If it did, someone as old as Dumbledore would have to sling it up over his shoulder!”
Harry, having so much invested in the conversation, was caught off guard as he watched Ron fall from his bed and roll on the floor laughing. At first he felt his anger rising again. Then, after a quick mental review, he realized just how hilarious the image he had suggested was. His diaphragm began to spasm, and soon he too was dusting the floorboards, howling with laughter right along with Ron.
The image of Dumbledore with a long fleshy appendage hanging over his shoulder surely had something to do with a concern Harry had recently been distressing over, but for the life of him, he couldn’t quite remember what it was as he clutched his aching sides.