Harry Pothead and the Sorcerer's Bong

One day in the sixth year boys dormitory in Gryffindor Tower, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were quite bored. It was a rainy day, the sky was threatening to swallow the Hogwarts castle whole. Harry and Ron's roommates, Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas, and Seamus Finnegan, were all doing their homework on their beds. Harry hopped off of his bed and plodded over to Ron in his sock-clad feet.

"Ron," groused Harry, "I'm as bored as bored could ever boredly be."

"Me too. I find it strange that the others are doing homework that we all have due, yet we are conveniently not doing it, making us free to be in some ridiculously unlikely situation", cogitated Ron.

"We could easily save our dignity by starting our Potions essay," exhorted Harry.

They looked at each other, deeming this possibility. "Nahhhh," they swashed, and promptly sank into a fit of giggles.

"I think that we should get HIGH," stated Ron.

"What's... high?" ventured the ever naive Harry, clutching his plushie dragon closely to his chest.

"Well, Harry, it's a thing that Muggles do. My Dad told me about it. It's something called a hallucinogen. Dad loves it. He is HIGH all the time!" drooled Ron.

"Oh! Brilliant! Wicked. Do you have any of this... HIGH... with you?" Harry bemused.

"Of course, Mate." And Ron proceeded to take off his shoe, peeled out the SOLE, and brandished a small baggy full of weed. He unscrewed the top of his bedpost, and produced a small blue bowl.

"Oooooooooooooh," breathed Harry.

Ron nodded proudly and drew the curtains closed on his bed. He stuck a hand seductively through the curtains, and motioned for Harry to come in. Harry squeeled like the little girl he should be, and pranced on in.

"Right then," bumbled Ron. He set up the bowl and held it clumsily in his hands. He put the mouthpiece to his chops. Harry burst into laughter and rolled around.

"That looks just like a.... like you're about to... YOU know!!" Harry blushed and ceased his laughter when Ron gave him an annoyed look.

"Honestly, Harry, EVERYTHING isn't phallic," scolded Ron, moving his fingers up and down the stem of the bowl suggestively. "Or... maybe it is." He shrugged.

Ron put the mouthpiece to his lips again, put his wand to the bowl, and muttered, "Incendio". A spark flew out of his wand, and lit the pipe up. He breathed in a few times, got a dazed look on his face, and leaned back onto his pillows. "Oh, shit, man..."

Harry sat on his knees and poked Ron incessantly in the head. "ARE YOU HIGH? ARE YOU? ARE YOU?!!?! Can I become HIGH too??"

Ron rolled his head over to look at Harry. "Yea, yea. Go right ahead. And while you're at it, blow me."

Harry cocked his head to the side. I think he meant to say 'blow IT', mused Harry to himself smartly. Harry took the bowl from the very stoned Ron, and took a puff on the peace pipe. His eyes widened and he coughed a few times, falling on top of Ron in the process. Their faces were right next to each other.

"You know," pronounced Harry, "you have beautiful eyes."

Ron twitched his nose and sat up with a far away look. "Do I? Do I really? Are eyes what we see out of, or are eyes the windows to our very souls, what other beings view into us?"

"I feel like if I lean forward enough, my eyeballs will fall out of my head!" squawked Harry. He leaned forward really far until his face slammed into the bed. "Lucky this broke my fall, really. Is everyone okay?" he mumbled.

Ron stared at his friend and took another hit. "You look like a tomato feels," pondered Ron.

"But alas, do I taste like a potato smells?" Harry shot back.

Ron thought for a moment and passed the bowl to Harry, who took a ridiculously long hit. "Only one way to find out," growled Ron, who proceeded to bite Harry on the shoulder.

"AHHHHHHHH!!!!" screeched Harry, putting his hands over his eyes and private parts, and quivering in the corner of the bed. "Get away from me! I don't like you like that, Ron!!"

Ron grinned maniacally and flopped down next to Harry. "I think that lion's are pretty," said Ron thoughtfully, staring at the ceiling of his bed. "But only pretty in a lion sort of way. And that's not as pretty as the other kind of way, which is BEAUTIFUL. But not so much ugly, which wouldn't be pretty. You know? Because I don't."

Harry was still cowering in the corner of the bed, trying to dig his fingers into his face. "I wish I could take this mask off," bemoaned Harry."It's such a trivial thing. Such a trivial, exciting, and fuzzy thing."

Ron gazed at Harry lovingly. "Harry, as your closest friend, I wish you well."

"Oh, to be a biscuit," sighed Harry, crawling over to Ron and patting his red hair. Ron's eyes lit up at the mention of a BISCUIT and he proceeded to bite Harry again, this time on the thigh.

"Ohh," moaned Harry, as he writhed around the bed. "Talk dirty to me, Ron."

Ron sat cross-legged, and a very pensive expression came across his face as he took another hit from the bowl. "I wonder where it all goes," wondered Ron.

Harry grabbed the bowl from Ron and breathed in an even longer amount than before. He flinched, and dropped his head onto Ron's lap. "Couldn't tell ya, mate."

Ron began stroking Harry's hair absentmindedly, humming to himself. "You're hair feels like thick life," declared Ron seriously. Harry nodded in agreement.

"I love you, Ron, because like, you're my friend, and your name is Ron" mumbled Harry, staring at his hands in fascination. "And I think that you should KISS me. And lick my finger, because it looks really tasty, and if you don't, I will."

Ron leaned down and clumsily kissed Harry full on the lips. Harry wrapped his arms around Ron's neck and slopped his tongue into Ron's mouth. Ron climbed on top of Harry and caressed his whole body, up and down, back and forth, until he ripped Harry's shirt off. Harry gasped.

"The air feels like a million hippogriffs, dancing on me!" yelped Harry, furiously unbuttoning Ron's shirt. He succeeded and attempted to tear the shirt off with his teeth, but ended up swallowing a button. He choked as Ron whacked him hard... on his back.

"PULL THROUGH, HARRY!!" cried Ron. Harry took a deep breath and gave a thumbs-up sign. Ron grinned airily and sucked on Harry's neck, drooling all over him in the process.

"Oh, Ron," stumbled Harry, "I feel so close to you. We are at one with each other. You. Me. Us. We. We are shoes. And soles. We are two shoes, with but one sole."

Ron spanked Harry on his ripe, dimpled ass and purred like a stalling vehicle. He undid Harry's belt and purged him of his PANTS and all that was beneath. Harry did the same to Ron. They rolled around the bed in their pure nakedness, giggling like you read about.

Ron took another hit from the bowl and finished it off. He stared at the empty bowl dimly. "Aw, bugger."

Harry screwed up his face as if pondering a very large, very controversial thing. He shrugged and leaned down to Ron's PULSATING MEMBER, put his mouth on the end, and took a hit from Ron's glorious, glittering, spiffing bowl of human man-flesh.

Amazingly enough, when he sat up, he blew smoke from his mouth. "Wicked," he marvelled, eyes sparkling.

Ron, eyes wide with wonder, leaped on top of Harry and proceeded to roll around some more.

They rolled around so much, that they tumbled out of the bed, onto the dorm floor, bringing a huge cloud of smoke with them. They found themselves staring at Neville, Dean, and Seamus.

"uhhh..." stuttered Harry and Ron.

"You two really should have just done your homework," said Dean knowingly. Neville and Seamus nodded in agreement. The three of them just went back to doing their work, unaffected by the two naked, stoned boys on the floor. Harry and Ron looked at each other.

"I'm hungry," announced Ron. "You?"

"Starved," agreed Harry. They linked arms and flounced out of the room.

Seamus sighed. "How long before you think they realize that they went out there starkers?"

They all shrugged. Dean got up and locked the door to the room and grinned evilly, winking so much that he twitched.. "Right then. Who wants to get HIGH?!"

**The End.**