Fic: Sirius Black's Schooldays: Excerpts From The Fandom Edition (NC-17)
Sirius Black’s Schooldays: Excerpts From The Fandom Edition
by minnow_53
Disclaimer: These characters and settings belong to JK Rowling and various corporations. However, this story bears no resemblance to the originals.
Rating: NC-17. No kidding, so take that part seriously.
Genre: Satire, crack.
Warning: This is bound to offend most people one way or another.
On my journal and crossposted to the_kennel and remusxsirius.
Sirius Black’s Schooldays: Excerpts From The Fandom Edition
Chapter One
...and finally arrived at our destination, Hogwarts School of Sexcraft and Buggery.
We new students were led down a corridor dimly-lit with flaming sconces. Against the walls, scores of boys stood with their backs to us, as if being punished for some misdemeanour. However, when I looked more closely I saw that they were rubbing themselves strenuously against other boys. Their loud and, one presumes, ecstatic moans echoed along the stone passageway.
Professor McGonagall, the Deputy Head, seemed not at all fazed as we passed this writhing mass of bodies, but led us to the Great Hall for our Sorting.
James Potter, to whom I had been talking on the Hogwarts Express, was first to be Sorted. An old Hat was placed on his head, and it suddenly shouted out, ‘Gay!’ That was a shock: I was not expecting a talking hat! A boy called Peter Pettigrew went next, and was also pronounced Gay. The two of them were led to a vast table that filled nearly the whole Hall.
Next, a girl, Lily Evans, and this time I could hardly hear the Hat as it mumbled, ‘Straight’. There was a gasp of horror, and she was led to a small table in a recess, where three or four other girls and a handful of boys were sitting.
The Hat was then placed on my head, and it mused thus: ‘I cannot pronounce a Black straight, certainly! Yet you seem oddly undecided... It may perhaps be your tender age, of course. Shall I send you to the limbo of the Bi table?’
‘Do what you think best,’ I reflected, bowing to its superior knowledge.
The Hat called out, ‘Gay’, though without, I noticed, much conviction, and I was led to the big table to sit with the other First Years. Remus Lupin was also pronounced Gay, in an equally undecided fashion. He later confided that he had begged the Hat not to make him any more different than he already was. I felt that Lupin and I should stick together...
Chapter Two
...up to the dormitories. To my amazement, each student was issued with a fourposter bed!
The prefect showing us round said, ‘We’ll expect you to start shagging behind your curtains soon, with or without a Silencing Spell. Once you’re in Second Year, the house-elves start to look out for signs of activity. If you're not having sex by then, you could get into bad trouble. Just be warned.’
Pettigrew beamed and nestled close to Potter, leering and saying, ‘I’m positive these beds will see plenty of action, won’t they?’
‘Sure thing!’ Potter beamed.
Remus Lupin and I glanced at each other but remained silent.
Chapter Fourteen
...a system known as ‘fagging’. The Seventh Year who had chosen me to be his fag said with a grin, ‘We take the word literally, at Hogwarts!’
I thought at first that it was an honour for a humble Third Year to be singled out in this way by one of the prefects. I was soon to find out how wrong I was.
He asked me to build up the fire in his study, and then I had to sit on his knee in front of said fire. ‘Let me see your wand,’ he begged, and I showed him my eleven inches of yew with heartstring of wild boar, whereupon he tapped me on the nose with it rather irritably, and the tip emitted angry sparks.
‘Playing the innocent, are we? How about you feel mine, then?’ he responded, and guided my hand to the front of his robes, where he was sporting an enormous erection. I had seen pictures of these in virtually every lesson so far, and was not surprised when he withdrew his member from his boxer shorts and asked me to stroke it.
This I did, with trembling hands. He shouted, ‘Oh, oh,’ and his protrusion erupted in a messy fashion, covering my hands with a nasty white substance. I mumbled a quick ‘Scourgify’ while he crooned into my neck, ‘That’s what we do to pretty boys at Hogwarts! Better get used to it.’
Later, he was to beg me to bend over so he could introduce me to the joys of the prostate, and this I did obediently, but with a heavy heart...
Chapter Sixteen
....the worst part of being Fourth Years, as if the rest of school life wasn’t grim enough. At this stage, we were considered ready to be at the receiving end of endless lectures about anatomy, bodily urges and how to fulfil them with the maximum gratification.
In Transfiguration one morning, Professor McGonagall issued the three Straights with a box of limp feathers, and said carelessly, ‘Do what you will with these. Transfigure them into kittens or something.’
She then turned to the rest of us with a big smile, and said, ‘This morning, we will be learning the rudiments of correct lubrication. Mr Potter and Mr Pettigrew will demonstrate how any animal or substance can be Transfigured into a tube or bottle of oil, when you’re desperate for a shag.’
Lily Evans hissed to her friend, Zoe Smith, ‘That Potter is so gay! Always mincing around with his limp wrists and his curly hair! I bet he wears purple pants.’
Professor McGonagall, with her usual acute hearing, snapped, ‘That will do, Evans! Fifty points from the Straight Community! We do not complain that you want to consort with members of the opposite sex.’ She spoke with the utmost disdain.
‘You’ll get your turn too,’ she promised the Gay girls. ‘Of course, we lubricate more naturally, do we not? In our case, it’s mainly a matter of creating something where nothing exists.’
Potter and Pettigrew stripped off their robes, and started to caress each other, growing more feverish as they kissed and stroked. I averted my eyes, as did Remus Lupin, who muttered to me, ‘I’d really like to know how to Transfigure a feather into something else. My grandfather learned all sorts of useful magic at Hogwarts.’ His big hazel eyes were wistful, and my heart went out to him. ‘It was a school of Witchcraft and Wizardry in those days,’ he added.
‘It’s definitely going down,’ I agreed, whereupon Professor McGonagall pricked up her ears and said, ‘Did someone mention ‘going down’? Excellent, Mr Black! I’ve been a bit worried about your commitment to Transfiguration thus far, but if you are aware of the noble art of fellatio, I have no complaints. Ten points to the Gays! Remember, though, boys, we refer to ‘going down on’.’
By this stage, even though I was trying hard not to watch, I could hear Potter’s distinctive, husky groans. ‘Stop there!’ Professor McGonagall ordered, rapping her wand on the desk. ‘If you can, that is!’ Everyone laughed except Lupin and me.
Our teacher then handed Pettigrew a tortoise and ordered, ‘Let’s see you Transfigure that into something a bit more useful.’
Pettigrew waved his wand, and the tortoise instantly became a vial of golden, oleaginous substance. I must admit, I was impressed, as Pettigrew’s talent for magic was uneven.
He looked surprised himself, until Potter quipped, ‘Now I know how much you want me, Pettigrew! Get on with it, mate.’
And the demonstration continued apace...
Chapter Seventeen
‘...Engorgement Charm,’ Professor Flitwick announced, with a big smile. ‘Yes, boys, we’ve all been waiting for that one. And it may be useful to the Straight Community too.’
Chapter Eighteen
I think, however, in those days, my least favourite lesson was Care Of Magical Creatures, where the most fearless of my group happily performed acts of bestiality with such animals as Hippogriffs, and even Kneazles.
Chapter Twenty
At last, the day of the dreaded foursome arrived. Potter and Pettigrew wished to do this somewhere public, perhaps a classroom, as other boys did, but Lupin and I remained obdurate: if foursome there was to be, it would be in our own dormitory.
‘Why don’t you invite my brother, Regulus, and Snape along instead of us?’ I suggested, in what was meant to be a light tone. ‘I know you’ve been having threesomes with them, Potter.’
Pettigrew flushed a bit, and interjected, ‘I’ve joined in a few times too, actually.’ His voice was defiant, and I wondered if he spoke the truth. ‘But you two are such late developers! I overhead the Headmaster saying you’d have to be kept down a year if you didn’t start enjoying sex with your dorm-mates.’
Potter stopped his mouth with a kiss, and they snogged for a while, growing visibly hot and bothered.
‘So beautiful,’ Pettigrew muttered as he caressed Potter’s member, which was already sufficiently engorged without the need for any charm. No doubt if I had been attracted to Potter in any way I would have found it erotic.
‘Oi, you two, robes off,’ Potter ordered. ‘The house-elves will be checking that everyone has had at least one orgasm. And don’t say, Black, as you so often do, that Pettigrew and I can produce enough sperm for four. Our Heads of House now perform Wizarding DNA tests. You’ll never get your OWLs in Sexcraft if you don’t start somewhere.’
He lowered his voice. ‘Look, guys, I know about you. I promise I won’t say anything. Let’s get it on just this once, okay? Then I’ll stop nagging you.’
‘Know what?’ Pettigrew asked suspiciously.
‘Nothing,’ Potter evaded.
Lupin and I shed our robes, with some embarrassment. It was obvious that neither of us was in the slightest bit aroused by the sight of our two friends kissing passionately in front of us. We murmured, ‘Engorgio’ simultaneously, and I was relieved to see that the spells worked sufficiently for us to be able to keep our ends up, so to speak, in the orgy ahead.
Potter winked at me and knelt before Lupin, taking his length into his mouth and sucking on it furiously. The sight left me cold, but fortunately Pettigrew started to do the same to me, and though it was hardly my cup of tea it was stimulating enough to serve its purpose.
Eventually, Potter took his mouth away and said warningly to Pettigrew, ‘No more, mate. We need plenty of their sperm around the place.’ He scanned Lupin’s member for what I believe is known as ‘precome’, then wiped it carefully with the edge of the sheet, motioning Pettigrew to do the same to me. I was sure the harvest in both cases was scarce, but certainly better than nothing: I hoped that the DNA sample would not consist solely of Potter and Pettigrew’s saliva.
Both Lupin and I decided we needed another Engorgement Charm at this point. Pettigrew was busy Transfiguring an electric eel into a tube of Muggle substance called KY jelly, as taught by the expert, Professor McGonagall, while stroking Potter’s member gently with his wand. Both boys looked fit to burst.
‘Hey, Lupin, what d’you think about when you wank?’ I asked him, trying to be helpful.
Lupin shrugged. ‘I dunno. Books, sometimes. And how to do a Levitation spell that doesn’t involve penises.’
I was struck by his use of the anatomical term. ‘I think of books too,’ I confided. ‘What really gets me off is when I imagine I’m using my wand to make a specially good potion. Something that isn’t an aphrodisiac or guaranteed to make my, um, penis longer.’ Warming to the subject, I added, ‘I once had a wonderful fantasy about a Cheering Charm.’
Naturally, both Lupin and I had been fags in our time, so we did not flinch as Potter and Pettigrew respectively entered us anally, having used ample amounts of the former electric eel. In order to render the experience more pleasurable, I concentrated on the recipe for a Sleeping Potion I had come across in an ancient textbook hidden away in the Sexual Techniques and Spells section of the library. At the point where I poured a perfect solution into a vial, my emission duly occurred.
Chapter Twenty-Five
...we looked at each other and started to laugh. I punched Lupin lightly on the arm. ‘Good man! What have you got for us?’
‘Well.’ He was still panting a bit from his long run from the Castle. ‘I’ve managed to find The Book of Standard Spells, Grade Four. Stole it from the Restricted Section.’
I produced my precious Potions Manual, which I now kept tucked under my pillow with a Concealment Charm, so no pesky house-elves would find and remove it. Potter and Pettigrew often used this charm when they were performing acts of mutual masturbation at meals, a practice that was, oddly, rather frowned on. The Headmaster, it seemed, had an obsession with food hygiene. Would that he had been equally obsessed with hygiene of other sorts!
‘Let’s start with a Summoning Spell,’ Lupin suggested. ‘We can focus on a pebble, can’t we? Or a leaf.’ He recited, ‘Swish and Flick,’ and then the incantation, Accio: as he raised his wand, a leaf fluttered across from the woods and into his hand.
He turned to me, enchanted, his eyes shining: I believe my own eyes must have been equally bright with the pleasure of seeing a simple spell worked so effectively. I am not, indeed, ashamed to mention that they may also have been shiny with tears.
‘Boys!’ A scandalised voice, an all-too-familiar Scottish tone, broke into my reverie, and Lupin and I scrambled to our feet, endeavouring to hide our books under our robes. But alas, Professor McGonagall had seen them, and within seconds she had confiscated our wonderful treasures and tucked them safely away in her voluminous handbag.
‘How dare you!’ she hissed, her wand twitching in her hand. ‘What sort of school do you think this is?’
We were fortunate enough, or should I say unfortunate, narrowly to escape expulsion on that occasion...
End
by minnow_53
Disclaimer: These characters and settings belong to JK Rowling and various corporations. However, this story bears no resemblance to the originals.
Rating: NC-17. No kidding, so take that part seriously.
Genre: Satire, crack.
Warning: This is bound to offend most people one way or another.
On my journal and crossposted to the_kennel and remusxsirius.
Sirius Black’s Schooldays: Excerpts From The Fandom Edition
Chapter One
...and finally arrived at our destination, Hogwarts School of Sexcraft and Buggery.
We new students were led down a corridor dimly-lit with flaming sconces. Against the walls, scores of boys stood with their backs to us, as if being punished for some misdemeanour. However, when I looked more closely I saw that they were rubbing themselves strenuously against other boys. Their loud and, one presumes, ecstatic moans echoed along the stone passageway.
Professor McGonagall, the Deputy Head, seemed not at all fazed as we passed this writhing mass of bodies, but led us to the Great Hall for our Sorting.
James Potter, to whom I had been talking on the Hogwarts Express, was first to be Sorted. An old Hat was placed on his head, and it suddenly shouted out, ‘Gay!’ That was a shock: I was not expecting a talking hat! A boy called Peter Pettigrew went next, and was also pronounced Gay. The two of them were led to a vast table that filled nearly the whole Hall.
Next, a girl, Lily Evans, and this time I could hardly hear the Hat as it mumbled, ‘Straight’. There was a gasp of horror, and she was led to a small table in a recess, where three or four other girls and a handful of boys were sitting.
The Hat was then placed on my head, and it mused thus: ‘I cannot pronounce a Black straight, certainly! Yet you seem oddly undecided... It may perhaps be your tender age, of course. Shall I send you to the limbo of the Bi table?’
‘Do what you think best,’ I reflected, bowing to its superior knowledge.
The Hat called out, ‘Gay’, though without, I noticed, much conviction, and I was led to the big table to sit with the other First Years. Remus Lupin was also pronounced Gay, in an equally undecided fashion. He later confided that he had begged the Hat not to make him any more different than he already was. I felt that Lupin and I should stick together...
Chapter Two
...up to the dormitories. To my amazement, each student was issued with a fourposter bed!
The prefect showing us round said, ‘We’ll expect you to start shagging behind your curtains soon, with or without a Silencing Spell. Once you’re in Second Year, the house-elves start to look out for signs of activity. If you're not having sex by then, you could get into bad trouble. Just be warned.’
Pettigrew beamed and nestled close to Potter, leering and saying, ‘I’m positive these beds will see plenty of action, won’t they?’
‘Sure thing!’ Potter beamed.
Remus Lupin and I glanced at each other but remained silent.
Chapter Fourteen
...a system known as ‘fagging’. The Seventh Year who had chosen me to be his fag said with a grin, ‘We take the word literally, at Hogwarts!’
I thought at first that it was an honour for a humble Third Year to be singled out in this way by one of the prefects. I was soon to find out how wrong I was.
He asked me to build up the fire in his study, and then I had to sit on his knee in front of said fire. ‘Let me see your wand,’ he begged, and I showed him my eleven inches of yew with heartstring of wild boar, whereupon he tapped me on the nose with it rather irritably, and the tip emitted angry sparks.
‘Playing the innocent, are we? How about you feel mine, then?’ he responded, and guided my hand to the front of his robes, where he was sporting an enormous erection. I had seen pictures of these in virtually every lesson so far, and was not surprised when he withdrew his member from his boxer shorts and asked me to stroke it.
This I did, with trembling hands. He shouted, ‘Oh, oh,’ and his protrusion erupted in a messy fashion, covering my hands with a nasty white substance. I mumbled a quick ‘Scourgify’ while he crooned into my neck, ‘That’s what we do to pretty boys at Hogwarts! Better get used to it.’
Later, he was to beg me to bend over so he could introduce me to the joys of the prostate, and this I did obediently, but with a heavy heart...
Chapter Sixteen
....the worst part of being Fourth Years, as if the rest of school life wasn’t grim enough. At this stage, we were considered ready to be at the receiving end of endless lectures about anatomy, bodily urges and how to fulfil them with the maximum gratification.
In Transfiguration one morning, Professor McGonagall issued the three Straights with a box of limp feathers, and said carelessly, ‘Do what you will with these. Transfigure them into kittens or something.’
She then turned to the rest of us with a big smile, and said, ‘This morning, we will be learning the rudiments of correct lubrication. Mr Potter and Mr Pettigrew will demonstrate how any animal or substance can be Transfigured into a tube or bottle of oil, when you’re desperate for a shag.’
Lily Evans hissed to her friend, Zoe Smith, ‘That Potter is so gay! Always mincing around with his limp wrists and his curly hair! I bet he wears purple pants.’
Professor McGonagall, with her usual acute hearing, snapped, ‘That will do, Evans! Fifty points from the Straight Community! We do not complain that you want to consort with members of the opposite sex.’ She spoke with the utmost disdain.
‘You’ll get your turn too,’ she promised the Gay girls. ‘Of course, we lubricate more naturally, do we not? In our case, it’s mainly a matter of creating something where nothing exists.’
Potter and Pettigrew stripped off their robes, and started to caress each other, growing more feverish as they kissed and stroked. I averted my eyes, as did Remus Lupin, who muttered to me, ‘I’d really like to know how to Transfigure a feather into something else. My grandfather learned all sorts of useful magic at Hogwarts.’ His big hazel eyes were wistful, and my heart went out to him. ‘It was a school of Witchcraft and Wizardry in those days,’ he added.
‘It’s definitely going down,’ I agreed, whereupon Professor McGonagall pricked up her ears and said, ‘Did someone mention ‘going down’? Excellent, Mr Black! I’ve been a bit worried about your commitment to Transfiguration thus far, but if you are aware of the noble art of fellatio, I have no complaints. Ten points to the Gays! Remember, though, boys, we refer to ‘going down on’.’
By this stage, even though I was trying hard not to watch, I could hear Potter’s distinctive, husky groans. ‘Stop there!’ Professor McGonagall ordered, rapping her wand on the desk. ‘If you can, that is!’ Everyone laughed except Lupin and me.
Our teacher then handed Pettigrew a tortoise and ordered, ‘Let’s see you Transfigure that into something a bit more useful.’
Pettigrew waved his wand, and the tortoise instantly became a vial of golden, oleaginous substance. I must admit, I was impressed, as Pettigrew’s talent for magic was uneven.
He looked surprised himself, until Potter quipped, ‘Now I know how much you want me, Pettigrew! Get on with it, mate.’
And the demonstration continued apace...
Chapter Seventeen
‘...Engorgement Charm,’ Professor Flitwick announced, with a big smile. ‘Yes, boys, we’ve all been waiting for that one. And it may be useful to the Straight Community too.’
Chapter Eighteen
I think, however, in those days, my least favourite lesson was Care Of Magical Creatures, where the most fearless of my group happily performed acts of bestiality with such animals as Hippogriffs, and even Kneazles.
Chapter Twenty
At last, the day of the dreaded foursome arrived. Potter and Pettigrew wished to do this somewhere public, perhaps a classroom, as other boys did, but Lupin and I remained obdurate: if foursome there was to be, it would be in our own dormitory.
‘Why don’t you invite my brother, Regulus, and Snape along instead of us?’ I suggested, in what was meant to be a light tone. ‘I know you’ve been having threesomes with them, Potter.’
Pettigrew flushed a bit, and interjected, ‘I’ve joined in a few times too, actually.’ His voice was defiant, and I wondered if he spoke the truth. ‘But you two are such late developers! I overhead the Headmaster saying you’d have to be kept down a year if you didn’t start enjoying sex with your dorm-mates.’
Potter stopped his mouth with a kiss, and they snogged for a while, growing visibly hot and bothered.
‘So beautiful,’ Pettigrew muttered as he caressed Potter’s member, which was already sufficiently engorged without the need for any charm. No doubt if I had been attracted to Potter in any way I would have found it erotic.
‘Oi, you two, robes off,’ Potter ordered. ‘The house-elves will be checking that everyone has had at least one orgasm. And don’t say, Black, as you so often do, that Pettigrew and I can produce enough sperm for four. Our Heads of House now perform Wizarding DNA tests. You’ll never get your OWLs in Sexcraft if you don’t start somewhere.’
He lowered his voice. ‘Look, guys, I know about you. I promise I won’t say anything. Let’s get it on just this once, okay? Then I’ll stop nagging you.’
‘Know what?’ Pettigrew asked suspiciously.
‘Nothing,’ Potter evaded.
Lupin and I shed our robes, with some embarrassment. It was obvious that neither of us was in the slightest bit aroused by the sight of our two friends kissing passionately in front of us. We murmured, ‘Engorgio’ simultaneously, and I was relieved to see that the spells worked sufficiently for us to be able to keep our ends up, so to speak, in the orgy ahead.
Potter winked at me and knelt before Lupin, taking his length into his mouth and sucking on it furiously. The sight left me cold, but fortunately Pettigrew started to do the same to me, and though it was hardly my cup of tea it was stimulating enough to serve its purpose.
Eventually, Potter took his mouth away and said warningly to Pettigrew, ‘No more, mate. We need plenty of their sperm around the place.’ He scanned Lupin’s member for what I believe is known as ‘precome’, then wiped it carefully with the edge of the sheet, motioning Pettigrew to do the same to me. I was sure the harvest in both cases was scarce, but certainly better than nothing: I hoped that the DNA sample would not consist solely of Potter and Pettigrew’s saliva.
Both Lupin and I decided we needed another Engorgement Charm at this point. Pettigrew was busy Transfiguring an electric eel into a tube of Muggle substance called KY jelly, as taught by the expert, Professor McGonagall, while stroking Potter’s member gently with his wand. Both boys looked fit to burst.
‘Hey, Lupin, what d’you think about when you wank?’ I asked him, trying to be helpful.
Lupin shrugged. ‘I dunno. Books, sometimes. And how to do a Levitation spell that doesn’t involve penises.’
I was struck by his use of the anatomical term. ‘I think of books too,’ I confided. ‘What really gets me off is when I imagine I’m using my wand to make a specially good potion. Something that isn’t an aphrodisiac or guaranteed to make my, um, penis longer.’ Warming to the subject, I added, ‘I once had a wonderful fantasy about a Cheering Charm.’
Naturally, both Lupin and I had been fags in our time, so we did not flinch as Potter and Pettigrew respectively entered us anally, having used ample amounts of the former electric eel. In order to render the experience more pleasurable, I concentrated on the recipe for a Sleeping Potion I had come across in an ancient textbook hidden away in the Sexual Techniques and Spells section of the library. At the point where I poured a perfect solution into a vial, my emission duly occurred.
Chapter Twenty-Five
...we looked at each other and started to laugh. I punched Lupin lightly on the arm. ‘Good man! What have you got for us?’
‘Well.’ He was still panting a bit from his long run from the Castle. ‘I’ve managed to find The Book of Standard Spells, Grade Four. Stole it from the Restricted Section.’
I produced my precious Potions Manual, which I now kept tucked under my pillow with a Concealment Charm, so no pesky house-elves would find and remove it. Potter and Pettigrew often used this charm when they were performing acts of mutual masturbation at meals, a practice that was, oddly, rather frowned on. The Headmaster, it seemed, had an obsession with food hygiene. Would that he had been equally obsessed with hygiene of other sorts!
‘Let’s start with a Summoning Spell,’ Lupin suggested. ‘We can focus on a pebble, can’t we? Or a leaf.’ He recited, ‘Swish and Flick,’ and then the incantation, Accio: as he raised his wand, a leaf fluttered across from the woods and into his hand.
He turned to me, enchanted, his eyes shining: I believe my own eyes must have been equally bright with the pleasure of seeing a simple spell worked so effectively. I am not, indeed, ashamed to mention that they may also have been shiny with tears.
‘Boys!’ A scandalised voice, an all-too-familiar Scottish tone, broke into my reverie, and Lupin and I scrambled to our feet, endeavouring to hide our books under our robes. But alas, Professor McGonagall had seen them, and within seconds she had confiscated our wonderful treasures and tucked them safely away in her voluminous handbag.
‘How dare you!’ she hissed, her wand twitching in her hand. ‘What sort of school do you think this is?’
We were fortunate enough, or should I say unfortunate, narrowly to escape expulsion on that occasion...
End