Harry Potter and the Odour of the Pheromones - Part 4

[magicbunbuns]

Harry Potter and the Odour of the Pheromones - By Kate's Brain and Magic of Isis



**

None of them spoke for a moment. Harry’s mind was racing trying to come up with a plausible story, yet in the end, he settled for a half-truth.

“Remus had a bad reaction to a potion,” he paused, staring pointedly at Hermione, “and sort of took it out on me.”

“Oh my heavens! Harry, we need to get you to the hospital wing straight away. I can’t believe he bit you! Did he break the skin? How close is it to the full moon anyway?”

Harry cut off her rambling concern. “I’ll be fine. It wasn’t anything that Sirius and I couldn’t handle, and I’m not hurt at all.” Hermione glared at him. “Seriously, it looks a lot worse than it is.”

The way Hermione was looking at the rope marks on his wrists, it was obvious that she didn’t believe him, but she turned her attention to Seamus, placing her hands on her hips. “And what exactly were you doing that didn’t involve love bites?”

“I’m sure it’s nothing that you need to know about, Hermione,” answered Seamus, shifting uncomfortably.

Harry could almost see the wheels turning inside Hermione’s brain. He wished he hadn’t confessed earlier that he preferred boys, because it was only a matter of time before she put Seamus’s slip of the tongue, the alarming state of Harry’s body and his lunchtime confession together and realized exactly what he’d been up to that day. Damn - why had he fallen asleep?

Wanting to interrupt Hermione’s train of thought, he quickly asked, “Did you bring me something to eat? I’m starving.”

Hermione handed him a plate of food, and as she did so, Harry noticed Seamus backing away towards Ron’s bed, trying to remain unnoticed. The second Hermione handed Harry the plate, a loud “Obliviate” echoed through the room.

“Seamus!” Harry gasped. Seamus waved frantically behind Hermione’s back, silently begging Harry not to say anything.

“Harry’s got his food now,” Seamus said to Hermione. “You’d better leave the boys’ dormitory.”

Hermione seemed dazed and confused. “Leave, yes. I should go now,” she said vaguely.

“Thanks, Hermione,” called Harry as Seamus led her to the circular stairway.

When Seamus reappeared, Harry asked, “How in Merlin’s name did you learn to do memory charms?”

Seamus grinned. “Well, me dad’s a Muggle, you know, and he brings quite a few of his Muggle friends home upon occasion, so me mam’s been teaching me to cast memory charms since I was about ten. You’ve no idea how handy they are when there’s Muggles around.”

Harry furrowed his brow. “Is Hermione going to be all right? You sure you know what you’re doing, mate?”

“She’ll be fine. I started practicing a while ago on old Muggles. If you mess up and erase too much, no one knows the difference, see; they just think the old geezer is going senile. But I’ve got it pretty well refined now. I reckon she only remembers walking into the room and handing you that food.”

“You probably shouldn’t have done that,” said Harry, “but thanks. It was going to make things awkward between the two of us.”

“It’s the least I could do since I seem to have botched up the cleaning spell earlier. Sorry about that, Harry. Besides, I’ve been trying to get into Parvati’s knickers for two months now, and I didn’t want Hermione jumping to the wrong conclusion about us and spreading that rumour to the other girls.”

Harry declined Seamus’s offer to help him shower, and hurried off to do so before Ron and the others came back to the dormitory. He wasn’t sure how long the potion would last, but he was now so sore that the idea of any more sex that day was decidedly unappealing. As he massaged his aching muscles under the stream of hot water, he thought about his experiences of the day. He’d gone from being a virgin to having had four partners in less than twenty-four hours. He was relieved that none of them knew about any of the others - apart from Sirius and Remus, and he could blame that on the potion and Remus’s lycanthropy. He didn’t want to get a reputation as a floosie, after all.

That evening, he wrote a letter to Fred and George.

Dear F & G ~

Sorry I didn’t get back to Zonko’s for the potion antidote this afternoon. I ran into
Remus and Sirius, and they had some things to discuss with me that took longer than
I thought they would. Could you please send the antidote back with Hedwig?

Also, having had a full day to evaluate the effects of the potion, I believe you might
have made it a bit too strong this time. Perhaps the thing to do is to keep it that
strength, but have me experiment with dosage amounts. If you sent me a few more
vials, then I could try out different amounts and determine where there is the best
balance between repelling girls and not attracting boys, since not all of your
customers may appreciate that particular side effect.

~ Harry

P.S. You may also need to put a warning label on it suggesting that it not be used on or
near werewolves, as the effect of the potion’s smell may lead to unpredictable results.
If you have questions about this, I suggest you ask Remus.

**

The parcel from Fred and George arrived two days later. The Anti-Pheromone potion had worn off after about twelve hours, so Harry no longer needed the antidote, but he was most thrilled to see that the twins had taken his suggestion and included half a dozen vials of experimental potion with instructions on how to scientifically test it. Harry decided he’d use their method, but instead of discarding the unused potion from each of the vials, he’d just keep the extra in his own personal stores. With this much potion, he should be having all the sex he could ever want.

As fun as it was to try new things with different boys… and men, what he really wanted was to use the potion to attract Ron. So he didn’t take it straight away; he decided to wait until he and Ron could spend some time alone when they wouldn’t be interrupted.

The opportunity came about a week later. Hermione was stressed about an Ancient Runes project that was due the next week, and she had announced her intention to spend the entire evening in the library. Harry and Ron had Quidditch practice, and not much in the way of homework to do afterwards.

They were about two thirds of the way through practice when Harry took the Anti-Pheromone potion: fifty percent of the dose he’d taken on the day of the Hogsmeade visit. He wanted to make certain that it was fully effective when practice was over, when he could detain Ron for a while in the changing rooms.

It was starting to get dark, and Harry knew that practice would be called soon, so he dashed off to find the Snitch. After some searching, he saw it glittering near the hoops that Ron was defending. As Harry weaved in and out of the goal posts chasing the Snitch, he failed to notice Ron’s eyes upon him, tracking his every move.

It wasn’t until he heard a loud thud and a scream of pain that Harry paid any attention to Ron at all. Ron had been hit in the face with a Bludger because he’d been watching Harry instead of the Beaters. Ron managed to stay on his broom, but blood was gushing from his nose, and he was losing altitude quickly.

Harry raced over to his friend and pulled up alongside of him. The injury looked really bad; Harry was certain Ron’s nose had been broken. Jostling him a bit, Harry managed to get Ron’s free arm around his shoulder, and he slipped his hand around Ron’s waist. Together they flew up to the castle, landing on the balcony just outside the hospital wing corridor. They hobbled down the hallway with some difficulty, leaving a trail of Ron’s blood behind them.

As he suspected, Ron’s nose had been broken by the impact of the Bludger. Of course, a broken nose was no challenge for Madam Pomfrey, and Harry was relieved that there were no other injuries. Inside he groaned, though, to think that another opportunity to try out the Anti-Pheromone potion on Ron had been wasted.

Once Ron had been cleaned up and settled into a bed to wait for the swelling in his face to go down, Madam Pomfrey threw Harry out of the hospital wing with a strong suggestion that he take a shower. It was then that he remembered the potion again and realized he would be a most unwelcome dinner companion. He went directly back to Gryffindor Tower and took a shower, even though he knew it wouldn’t do any good against the smell.

He was dressing when Neville entered the dormitory, carrying some food.

“I heard what happened on the Quidditch pitch earlier, so I brought you and Ron some dinner,” Neville said. “Is he still in the hospital wing?”

“Yeah, broken nose. He’ll be in there for a couple of hours yet. Thanks for the food, Neville.” Harry took a few steps toward Neville, noticing a strange expression on his face. “What’s wrong?”

Neville blushed. “I...er...nothing’s wrong.” He paused a moment. “It’s just that, um, your eyes are so… they’re something else. And your lips… your lips too. I-I’ve wanted to kiss them. For ages.”

When Neville didn’t drop his gaze but continued to look Harry in the eye, he realized right away that the potion was making Neville bolder than usual. Even though the strength was reduced, Neville’s reaction must have been stronger because he was already attracted to Harry.

Harry’s eyes raked over Neville’s form; he’d become fairly attractive during the past year. Would it be so bad to experiment with him now that Ron was incapacitated? No, but he’d better be honest.

“I wouldn’t mind kissing you,” said Harry quietly, “but I’m, er, kind of interested in someone else.”

Neville nodded knowingly. “I figured that, and I don’t have any idea why Ron is so thick about it. He’s never been very observant, though. The last thing you need is for me to mess things up for you.”

Harry was disappointed that Neville had given up so easily. Perhaps if Harry just levelled with him, he could get some action out of the deal yet. He took a step closer, so that they were nearly touching. Neville had to be able to smell him from here.

“You know, Neville,” said Harry in a sultry voice, “there’s really nothing going on between me and Ron, yet, so if you wanted to, er, fool around a bit, there’s no reason we shouldn’t. I mean, as long as you understand that it’s not, um, romantic or anything.”

Neville’s eyes were shiny with lust. “Really? You’d do that… with me?”

Harry pulled him close, clasping his hands together behind the other boy’s neck. “I’ve always liked you a lot. I’ve got loads of things I want to try. We could learn together. That is, if you think we can still be mates like normal after messing around.”

“God, yes. I’ll try anything with you. Just as mates - no mushy stuff.”

Harry leaned in and kissed Neville softly on the lips, the way Sirius had kissed him before. It was not tentative, but affectionate. Neville’s kisses were awkward and wet, reminding Harry that, even with only one very active day of sex, he was still the experienced one. But what Neville lacked in experience, he made up for in sheer enthusiasm, and it wasn’t long before he found several sensitive spots on Harry’s ears and neck.

They were lucky that, just before Dean Thomas burst into the dormitory, he shouted down the stairway asking Seamus to bring him a book. When Harry and Neville heard Dean’s booming voice, they broke apart quickly and raced to sit far apart on Harry’s bed. Harry picked up the plate of food Neville had brought him, resting it on his oddly bulging lap, while Neville grabbed Harry’s Charms book, which he’d left lying there before Quidditch practice. Neville’s lips were red and slightly swollen, but Dean noticed nothing out of the ordinary when he entered the room.

“What’s the word on Ron?” Dean asked, pausing at the foot of Harry’s four-poster.

Harry swallowed the bite he’d been chewing. “Broken nose. He’ll be right as rain before morning, though. Has to stay in the hospital wing until the swelling goes down.”

“Damn. Lucky he didn’t fall off his broom, eh?” Dean muttered as he flopped onto his bed and began rummaging through his book bag.

Harry and Neville smirked at each other, neither one certain of the best course of action. Harry motioned to Neville to lean forward, and when he did, Harry whispered, “Meet me at the north end of the outside corridor in an hour.” To make his intentions clear, Harry licked the shell of Neville’s ear quickly before pulling away.

Neville was shocked, but clearly pleased, so he nodded and moved to his own bed. It seemed like the longest hour of his entire life.

**

“Harry?” whispered Neville. He’d been standing at the end of the corridor for a minute, and thought perhaps Harry was hiding in the shadows and didn’t see him.

From out of nowhere, something grabbed Neville’s hand and pulled him into a darkened alcove. Harry lowered the hood of his Invisibility Cloak.

“Your head floating like that… That’s just creepy,” Neville hissed. Harry grinned as he opened up the cloak and wrapped it around Neville as well.

“Covering two people used to work a lot better when I was eleven,” murmured Harry. “Crouch down a bit so you’re my height. We don’t want anyone to see our feet.”

“Where are we going?”

“Not far - just one floor down.” Harry slid an arm around Neville, who did the same in return. They had to walk slowly so as not to trip on each other, and they stopped three or four times in the stairway as other students passed them.

Harry opened the door to a large supply closet. It was tidy, with several old crates resting side-by-side in the corner like a bench. He pulled Neville inside and shut the door, locking it with a Colloportus spell.

“Give us some light, would you?” Harry asked Neville. A faint, bluish light shone from the tip of Neville’s wand. Harry moved Neville’s hand to direct the wand light towards the crates, which he promptly transfigured into a camp-bed. “There’s not enough room for a real bed, but this will be more comfortable than the floor.”

Neville smiled. “How’d you find this place?”

“Ernie Macmillan told me about it last year. Filch doesn’t use it - because he’s a Squib, he can’t get past the charm on the door.” Harry moved over towards the bed, tossing the Invisibility Cloak on the floor next to it. “Is this still okay?”

Neville answered by pressing his lips decisively against Harry’s. “It’s more than okay. I-I don’t really know what I’m doing, but I’ll try anything.”

“Me neither, but I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”

Harry removed his school robe quickly, letting it drop to the floor. He’d hoped Neville would follow his lead, but when he didn’t, Harry unfastened the clasp of his robe too, pausing only to kiss Neville before casting it into the pile. A few more slightly awkward movements had them totally naked and lounging on the newly transfigured bed.

Neville was nuzzling Harry’s neck, taking deep breaths between kisses and licks. Harry assumed the potion was still working, which was confirmed a few minutes later when Neville declared that he’d never smelled anything as heavenly in his whole life.

Meanwhile, Harry was getting bolder with his moves and enjoying the way that his actions seemed to be the cause of Neville’s writhing and moaning. This was his first time initiating sex rather than being merely a willing participant, and he found it powerfully exciting and just as enjoyable as being on the receiving end.

Harry could feel his excitement building as he rubbed his and Neville’s cocks together with one hand. Neville was breathing heavily and moaning, and Harry was certain he was close to coming as well. So it surprised Harry when he spoke.

“Harry… do you want to… sh-shag me? ‘Cause, er, you said you wanted to try some new things, and-”

Just the idea of it had Harry nearly coming. “Gods, Neville, I’d really like to. But, er, we’d need some lubrication or else it will really hurt. I didn’t bring any with me.”

Neville looked as if he wanted to know how Harry knew it would hurt, but he was too shy to ask. Instead, he quickly said, “I know a spell. I’ll teach it to you.”

“You know a lube spell?”

“Yeah. Uncle Algie taught it to me last summer when he made me sit through The Talk.”

Even in the dim light, Harry could tell that Neville was blushing furiously at having to confess this, and Harry couldn’t blame him one bit. He stopped moving, looking at the silhouette of Neville’s face. “Gods, you had to get The Talk? How bad was it?”

Neville grimaced. “Easily as humiliating as any Potions lesson with Snape. Really, the only thing I got out of it was the Lubrication Spell.”

“Go on then,” Harry said. Neville taught him the spell, and Harry tested it out by tapping his hand gently. A small amount of lubricant appeared in the palm of his hand, which he promptly spread over his fingers.

Harry tried to remember what Sirius had done, and after he got over the initial weirdness of plunging his fingers into Neville’s arse, he established a nice rhythm that Neville seemed to appreciate.

“Do you think you’re ready for me?” Harry asked after a minute or so.

Neville was gasping for air, finding breathing difficult because Harry kept rubbing against a certain spot that had Neville seeing stars. “Don’t know. Try it, and we’ll find out.”

Remembering exactly how much it had hurt when Remus had first entered him, Harry carefully spelled more lube onto his hand and rubbed it all over his cock. Then he slowly pushed into Neville, watching for signs of pain. If there was any discomfort, Neville didn’t let on, and it wasn’t long before Harry was buried deep inside him and beginning to slowly rock back and forth. He wasn’t sure if Neville would like this at all, let alone like it rough, and Harry could still recall how difficult it had been to sit the day after Remus had nearly split him in two.

Neville was so tight and the friction was so intense that Harry forgot they were in a broom closet. In fact, he was so lost in the sensation that he forgot just about everything except Neville’s body, writhing beneath him. He wasn’t going to last very long, and wanting Neville’s experience to be good, he quickly slid his fist around Neville’s weeping cock. The two of them came at nearly the same moment, Neville with a loud grunt, and Harry calling out, “Merlin, yes!”

They lay there, spent, with only the tip of Neville’s wand for light. Harry wasn’t sure what he should say, but it had been a brilliant experience - one that he definitely wanted to repeat in the near future. Harry couldn’t tell whether Neville was too overwhelmed to speak or if he had passed out.

The door to the broom closet suddenly rattled on its hinges, and Harry and Neville scrambled off the bed, realising that someone had discovered their presence. Harry found his trousers and quickly pulled them on, but Neville’s seemed to be tangled up in his robe. They heard someone cast “Alohomora”, but thankfully, that spell didn’t work against Colloportus. Harry was able to pull his school robe on, but Neville was still having problems. Unable to do anything else to help him, Harry pulled the Invisibility Cloak off the floor and threw it over Neville just as the door to the closet flew open.

Didn’t it just figure that it would be Draco Malfoy.

“Well, well, what have we got here? Up to a little mischief, Potter? Couldn’t find a private place to wank?”

Harry realized the scenario looked ridiculous; there was no sign of a partner, but he obviously looked thoroughly shagged and dishevelled. And there was the matter of the transfigured bed. “So what’s it to you if I’m here?” he said defiantly.

Malfoy smiled evilly. “It’s nothing to me, of course. But as a school prefect, I’m obliged to make sure that students follow the rules, and you and your mystery partner are most definitely out of bounds.”

“There’s no one else here. What makes you think I had a partner?”

“Potter,” said Malfoy with gleaming eyes, “the whole school could have heard you in here. There were definitely two voices, and it didn’t sound as if you were having tea.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry noticed that his and Neville’s extra clothes had disappeared, presumably under the Invisibility Cloak. The only things on the floor were Harry’s shoes.

“You’ll have a hell of a time proving it, Malfoy, so if you don’t mind, just leave me alone.”

Malfoy finally came close enough to get a strong whiff of Harry. His demeanour softened while his eyes raked over Harry’s debauched features. “Course, I might be willing to overlook this infraction if I got a turn…”

Harry’s cock twitched in agreement with that suggestion, but luckily his brain remembered that Neville was sitting on the makeshift bed, watching his every move. “I’d rather serve detention.”

Malfoy’s eyes narrowed, and he was obviously insulted. “You have one minute, Potter, before I summon McGonagall. I suggest you use the time to haul your arse back to your dormitory like a good little Gryffindor.” Malfoy turned on his heel, and Harry heard his footsteps retreating down the hall.

“You’d better keep that on until we get to the dormitory,” Harry whispered to Neville. “If I know Malfoy, he’s pretending to leave so he can spy on us and see who’s in here with me. Go on, and I’ll meet you at the Fat Lady to let you in after I change the bed back.”

Neville’s invisible lips brushed against Harry’s as he passed. Harry quickly ended the transfiguration spell and shoved his feet into his trainers before bolting out the door.

**

He should have known the relaxed feeling he’d gotten from having sex was too good to be true. A note arrived for Harry in the morning owl post, informing him that his detention for being out of bounds would be served with Professor Snape after dinner. Harry was sure that meant hours of menial labour to be done without his wand. He had no idea whether Malfoy had said that he suspected Harry of having sex in that broom closet, but regardless, he knew Snape would go out of his way to make him as miserable as possible.

Harry fretted over his pending detention the whole day. He ought to have gotten used to detention with Snape after all these years, but it seemed as if the Potions Master’s temper had gotten worse over the summer, and he was more than a little worried about Snape’s propensity for vengeance.

Needing to change his jumper after dinner, he stopped off in his dormitory before reporting to the dungeons. A vial of Anti-Pheromone potion caught his eye just as he turned to leave. Harry recalled that during his first experience with the experimental potion - the one that lasted several days - Snape had actually behaved civilly to him. What if he took a small amount of it now? He doubted that the potion would be strong enough to overcome the strong feelings of hatred the two of them shared, but perhaps it would make Snape a bit more lenient on the punishment. It was worth a try, anyway.

Harry downed about a third of the potion in the vial and headed off to serve his penance.

With a deep breath, Harry crossed the threshold into the Potions classroom. He was surprised to see that Snape was not alone, and then groaned inwardly when he realized it was Draco Malfoy.

“Potter,” spat Snape, “you’re late. I cannot afford to waste my time waiting for you all evening.”

Harry fought to keep his angry comments in check - it would not do to anger Snape any more than he’d already done. “Sorry, sir.” Harry strode to Snape’s desk at the front of the room and stood as close to him as possible without being obvious. He needed Snape to get a good whiff of that potion.

Snape glared at him, but said nothing right away, which Harry took to be a good sign. There was a strange look on Snape’s face that Harry couldn’t read, and this left him slightly worried. When Snape spoke to him, he jumped.

“I have been called to confer with Professor Dumbledore this evening,” Snape said coolly. “You will clean the cauldrons and tools in the workroom and wipe down the desks. Mr. Malfoy has agreed to stay here in order to ensure that no magic is used.”

“But sir,” asked Harry in a panic, “couldn’t we simply reschedule to a different day?” He thought that having to endure a couple of hours of Malfoy’s taunts was far worse than having to clean grimy cauldrons.

Snape seemed surprised by Harry’s request, but he did not hurl his usual insults. “I’m afraid not, Potter. I need this classroom cleaned up for tomorrow’s lessons and will not have time to do it myself. I suggest you stop whinging and get on with it.” With a flurry of robes, Snape disappeared out the door of the classroom, leaving behind a miserable Harry Potter and a gleeful Draco Malfoy.

Continue to Part 5