Your First Year Wet Himself

Harry was, once again, lying spread-eagle on his back in his dorm, contemplating the meaning of life. So far, he had figured that string cheese was better than cheese in a block. The savior of the wizarding world was a deep thinker, obviously. Ron was lying in the exact same position, six feet to his left on his bed. He, on the other hand, was currently contemplating a certain bushy-haired bookworm who was presently lying in a similar position in the girls' dorms, pondering a certain freckled red-haired Weasley. But that's another story.

"Harry?" Ron's voiced was laced with apprehension.

"Mmmm...." Harry's voice was muffled, as he rolled over to place his face unceremoniously into the center of his pillow. "What?"

"Do you think Hermione would go to Hogsmeade with me? I mean, she wouldn't have to go as my girlfriend or anything, but I mean maybe we could stop at that place you went to with Cho and talk a bit? What was it called? Madam Purple Foots?"

Harry groaned and slammed his fist down on the edge of the mattress. "Madam Puddifoot's. And that's not the place to go if you fancy talking. You're better off with The Three Broomsticks, trust me, mate. Hermione might castrate you if you took her to the Hogsmeade equivalent of the Astronomy Tower."

"Yeah, yeah you're probably right. But, what are you going to do?" Ron sat up to look over at the lump that was Harry. "If she agrees to go with me, that is."

"Dunno. Maybe I'll just stay here, and see if I can get Seamus to go flying with me. That'll be fun."

"You know, Harry, you could have any girl in the school. And probably half the guys too, it that's what you want..." Ron looked nervously over at his friend. He had been wondering why Harry never seemed to go on dates, or even flirt with girls. Maybe I should buy him How To Be A Happy Homosexual for Christmas...

"I don't fancy boys, Ron, if that's what you're wondering. I'm just a tad traumatized by having some bitch start screaming at you and making a big scene on your first date. And anyway, the only thing I know about girls is that they don't like Dudley, the fat cow." Harry sat back up and threw his legs over the edge of the bed. "Not to mention the fact that I just lost the most father-like figure in my life and I'm not in the best mood for dating right now."

Ron blushed a sheepish pink. "Sorry mate. Just wondering, you know. It would be fun, though if you came with us, you know, as a double date." He smiled across at Harry. "Not that you couldn't come anyway, I mean if you want to..." he said nervously. Harry had been known to explode rather frighteningly at people sometimes.

"No, Ron I think I'll find my own entertainment. But if you don't ask her soon, Neville might beat you to it..." Ron paled slightly at the though and ka-thunked down the stairs so loud you might have thought a Hippogriff was loose in the castle. Well, he finally did it then. Hermione and Ron. God, it's about freaking time. They've been ogling each other for ages. Harry tried to go back to his moping, but found that it wasn't working. He decided to go down to the common room and see what had transpired between the two lovers. When he got there, he found them permanently joined at the mouth. Making up for lost time, I see, he thought, which means it's on to choice B. Flying. His mood lightened a bit at the thought of flying; it always did. If there was anything that you could honestly say that Harry loved to do, it was fly. You couldn't be expected to save the world when you were 100 meters above the ground, now could you? Of course not. The walk down to the Quidditch pitch was surprisingly uneventful; he passed only Hannah Abbot on the way down, and she smiled sweetly at him and waved. She's cute. Maybe she'd go to Hogsmeade with me. And I bet you she wouldn't care if I didn't beat Voldemort. But that would mean that he'd beat me and we'd all be dead. So maybe she would care. Oh well. Harry paused outside the Quidditch shed, where he could hear muffled moans and the occasional scream from inside. One side of his nose wrinkled in disgust. Of all places to do it...my god... Then, an evil smile slowly slid over his well-chiseled features. Who ever said blackmail was wrong was most definitely NOT presented with an opportunity like this...Harry leaned in to better hear what was going on. The day was looking up after all...

"Blaise, darling, you're so tight...what have you been up to??"

Blaise??? DRACO'S Blaise? He couldn't tell who the guy in there with her was; his voice was too low and husky to tell.... Please let it not be Malfoy, so I can tell him and ruin his life. Please, let it not be Malfoy, Please, let it...

"Drakey-poo, you of all people would know....." Blaise giggled in a girly way that was so like nails on a chalkboard. So it was Draco. Oh well. Harry got up to leave, but was soon brought back by the next few whispered words.

"Just relax Blaise darling, I'm going to put it in." Muffled squishing sounds followed.

"Ok Drake, just be careful..." Harry raised an eyebrow. Somehow, although Draco was the unanimous Slytherin Sex God, until now, he hadn't been able to picture Draco 'doing it'. Some how, he had figured he'd be the first of the two of them to take the plunge, he was the hero after all. Harry leaned in to hear better...

"Tell me if it hurts, Blaise dearest," came Draco's voice from inside the shed.

"Ok Drake, Mmmm mmm Drakie that feels so... nice... mmm... OH GOD DRACO RIGHT THERE!!! RIGHT THERE OH MY GOD DRACO OH MY GOD DRACO DRACO OH MY GOD!!" Harry jumped back from the door at Blaise's outburst, and landed nearly on top of a very startled Colin Creevey.

"Gimmie your camera Colin," Harry hissed, "and watch as I get this picture put up all around school..."

"But, Harry, my camera is everything to me, what if something happened to it? I mean, I just think..."

"I'll kiss you if you give it to me." Harry waggled his eyebrows and tried to look endearing.

"OK!" Harry leaned in as if to kiss the shorter boy, before grabbing the camera away.

"HEY!!" Colin yelled. "WHERE'S MY KISS??"

But Harry was to busy trying to position himself in the best possible place to get the perfect picture of the Slytherin Prefect. "Wait till Dumbledore sees this, Malfoy will be out on his ass," he mumbled. With that, he whipped open the door, and Blaise's continuing screams got still louder. As the flash went off, Harry was completely shocked by what he saw. Draco and Blaise sat at opposite sides of the room, fully clothed, Draco holding what looked like a long stick with a purple hand on the end that was currently pointing at Blaise.

"Hello Harry. Fancy a bit of tickling?" Draco asked nonchalantly.

"T-T-TICKLING? But I thought you were....but... What is that?" he finished lamely, pointing at the stick.

"Oh, this? It's my newest invention, The Tickler. See? You hold it to a person's armpits and it tickles them. Like so..." Malfoy stabbed Harry in the armpit with the hand end and it immediately started to tickle him.

"OH GOD MALFOY IT HURTS!! MALFOY NO, TAKE IT OUT TAKE IT OUT!! AHHHH THAT'S NOT MEANT FOR THAT!!! NO, OH MY GOD!!" At this last scream from Harry, the door to the shed was once again opened and Ron stood in the doorway.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TWO DOING IN HERE!!!? WHEN 'MIONE FINDS OUT YOU'RE SHAGGING MALFOY HARRY SHE'S GOING TO KILL YOU!! WHY I OUGHT TO...." Ron's ranting came to an abrupt end as he noticed both boys were fully clothed and on opposite ends of the shed, Blaise in the middle.

"Hey Ron, fancy a tickle? Harry asked, and grinned mischievously.

"A... tickle? You were tickling him?" Ron's jaw dropped as he looked at Malfoy.

"Yes, of course, what did you think?"

"I, um, I didn't, I mean, nothing!" While Ron had been stuttering and looking generally uncomfortable, Harry had grabbed another tickling stick, and crept behind Ron. With a look at Draco, they both jabbed his armpits with the sticks at the same time.

"AHHH HARRY HOW COULD YOU? YOU AND MALFOY?? THIS IS SICK!!! NO TAKE IT OUT!!! PLEASE HARRY HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?? PLEASE NOOO PLEASE IT HURTS HARRY PLEASE OWWWWWW MALFOY NOOOO NOOOO IT HURTS SO BAD TAKE IT OUT THAT DOESN'T GO THERE!!! HARRRRRYYYYYYYYY!!"

The door to the shed was blasted off its hinges and a very pissed off Hermione stood outside the door. "HAROLD JAMES POTTER GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE RIGHT NOW!!"

Harry reluctantly stopped tickling Ron to step outside. Draco followed. "We were just tickling him, 'Mione. Completely harmless. What did you think we were doing?" Draco offered his patent smirk.

"YOU ARE GOING TO BE IN SUCH BIG.... What? Where did you get these?" she asked, grabbing the sticks from the boys' hands.

"Malfoy invented them. They work great, see?" Harry stuck her with one. Both boy's eyebrows raised, as the stick tickled away but Hermione remained silent and fuming. "Well, they did work great a minute ago..."

"I'm not ticklish. At all. Now remove that from my armpit if you ever want there to be more little Potters running around," Hermione practically growled.

"Right. Um, Sorry?" Harry offered his best innocent look. Ron groaned from his position on the ground.

"I hate you all," he said, with an attempt to lave his voice in venom. Everyone ignored him.

Hermione looked at the two boys, complete opposites of each other really, and the redhead still gasping for air on the ground. Blaise got up and quietly dusted herself off.

"Well, I'll just be going. It's been fun!" she said sarcastically and stalked towards the castle.

"I'll, um, well I'll just be joining her, then, um... Goodbye Potter, Granger, Weasel." Draco walked as fast as he could without running back inside, managing to look a bit like a constipated duck with a gimp leg.

"However stupid this might be of me to ask, WHAT were you doing here in the first place?" Hermione said, and poked Harry with the stick.

"OW! I was just going to go flying. No harm in that. It's not my fault Malfoy likes to tickle people." Harry scowled at her and tried to look as menacing as possible.

"Stop scowling, Harry, you look like a farting wildebeest. Why is Colin Creevey unconscious over there?" She pointed to a lump of robes ten feet to the left, where Harry had left him after stealing the camera. "And why are you holding a camera?"

"I... well see I really wanted to take a picture of..." All of the sudden, what he wanted to take a picture of didn't sound as good, so he continued, "...the giant squid, yes, see, because he jumped up out of the water and I wanted his picture." Harry smiled brightly at his excuse. "Colin just happened to get so excited when I asked for his camera he passed out."

"Harry, it looks like he was hit over the head! What did you do, smack him?" Harry couldn't remember hitting the midget, but he supposed it was possible. He had REALLY wanted that picture. A Malfoy-free school. It would have been perfect.

"I might have," he replied sullenly. "I can't remember."

"Well, fine then, be that way! Ron, come help me get him to Madam Pomfrey, maybe she can wake him up." Hermione then started trying to lift the unconscious turd. Ron wandered over.

"Hermione? What's a wildebeest?" he asked his voice full of confusion.

"RON!! SHUT UP AND LIFT!!" Hermione was red with the effort of hauling Creevey towards the doors.

"Fine... stupid git." With that, Ron and Hermione trooped off towards the castle, holding Colin by his feet and his mousy brown hair. Feeling evil, Harry decided not to tell them about the Mobilicorpus spell. He smirked, and reached into the shed for his broomstick. Finding it, he started off towards the Quidditch pitch. There, he stood around for a few minutes before he realized he really didn't want to fly anymore. With a frustrated sigh, he followed the rest of the group back towards the castle. Stupid Malfoy, he thought, I bet, he can ruin a perfectly good day just by fucking breathing. Cocky bastard.