Your First Year Wet Himself

Harry awoke with a splitting headache and hardly any memory of the previous night. Around noon, he got up and staggered into the shower, where he promptly fell asleep against the heated tiles. Only when he slipped and crashed onto the floor did he wake up, wash properly, and staggered back out looking not much different from the way he went in, except he was all wet. Ron was waiting for him when he got back, looking not much better then Harry felt. His red hair was tangled and matted and there were circles under his half closed eyes.

"Harry mate, Hermione wants you in the common room. And she said you have to go now or she'll hex off Mini Harry." Ron winced at his choice of words. "Sorry about that, but she cursed me, I had to say it or else Mini Ron would be no more." He paled noticeably at the thought. Harry nodded and began to trot off towards the door before being called back.

"Harry?" Ron looked about to burst with contained laughter.

"What? Do I have something in my teeth?" Ron had to sit down and catch his breath before answering, he was laughing so hard.

"No, mate go ahead down like that, give the girls in the common room a good show. But bring your wand, half of them might faint!!" Harry looked down, and realized he was wearing nothing but a towel.

"Not bloody funny Ron," He mumbled as he pulled on boxers and a pair of gray sweatpants. Ron continued to crack up on his bed, and a strangely high-pitched wheezing sound started coming from his nose. Harry fought for a minute or so with a sweatshirt, trying to pull it over his head, before Dean came over and kindly attempted to show him that he was trying to sick his body into the head hole.

"I knew that," he mumbled angrily and stalked out the door, slamming it behind him. Seconds later his head re-appeared, hair sticking out at all odd angles, and screamed back into the room:

"STOP BLOODY LAUGHING"

Slam

Thud, thud, thudthudthudthudCRASH

Harry had gotten so upset he had slammed his shirt in the door, taken two steps and then crashed all the way to the foot of the stairs. Now he had ruined his favorite shirt, half of it still being a flight of stairs up, his glasses were shattered somewhere in the vicinity of his left hip, and there was a very angry looking blue trainer tapping irritably two inches from his face.

Hermione. Shit.

"Grand entrance Harry, is that how you wooed your wonderful lover? WHO YOU NEVER TOLD US ANYTHING ABOUT!!"

Harry shoved himself to his feet and uncoordinatedly brushed a matted bit of hair out of his face.

"Morning, Hermione." Why aren't you hung-over? He thought, or did you know a handy little charm? I knew I should have read more.

"WAS IT CHO? THE SLUTTY BITCH SHES NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU!! I'LL FRIGGIN..."

"It wasn't Cho. No one at Hogwarts. At least, not anymore." Harry settled himself in the most comfortable chair, and smirked back at Hermione.

"Then who was it?" She towered over him, and gave him her most penetrating stare.

"Well, it was back in first year, when I was young and naive, and no one had yet tried to kill me..."

*Flash back*

Harry strolled up to Dumbledore's office, wondering what he could possibly want. He hadn't done anything crazy yet.

"Sherbet Lemon," he told the gargoyle and followed the twisting staircase up to the office. Opening the door, he saw Dumbledore sitting behind his desk, and an even older and more decrepit, if that's possible, wizard sitting to his left.

"Ahh, Harry, how nice of you to join us! This is my dear friend, Gandalf the White. We have just been reminiscing on the good old times, and you came up in conversation! Mr. Gandalf is really an amazing wizard," He winked at his old friend, who smiled, and strangely, Harry thought, blushed. Dumbledore continued, "He defeated the evil wizard that Saruman, and assisted a really short, yet devilishly handsome little man with the most beautiful blue eyes, and the most strangely erotic feet, and who could bend into amazing shapes...." Dumbledore got a strange far away look in his eye, and a slightly lopsided smile graced his wrinkled-as-a-prune features, similar to a smile you would see on someone who has just had a large amount of sedation drugs pumped into their system. Gandalf snapped his fingers repeatedly in front of Dumbledore's face, and he snapped back to reality.

"Erm, yes, he helped Frodo the sexy, erm, small hobbit destroy the ring and save the world. Similar to what you are destined to do. Oh dear did I say that out loud?" Dumbledore had just told Harry in no uncertain terms that he would have to save the world, but no matter because Harry was busy trying to poke the Sorting Hat to make it sing.

"Um, no matter, Professor, because I was attempting to poke the Sorting Hat to make it sing." Harry sat back in his seat, and looked at the two nasty old men in front of him. "So what do I have to do with this?"

"Well, you see Mr. Potter, I was hoping to get a chance to show you some saving-the-world techniques, you see. Like how to ride really fast and not get blinded when your beard gets caught up in the wind, because it will not be the hero that fell of his horse because he couldn't see where he was going that saves the world, it will be the hero that can prevail!" Gandalf giggled and pushed his hat back up onto his head, because it had begun to slip down over his eyes and he couldn't see Harry properly.

"But I don't have a beard. I'm eleven." Harry looked from one man to the other.

"No matter!" Gandalf's grin was beginning to look forced. "I know plenty of things to teach you that could come in handy. Why, I know all about the realm of Gondor, and the plight of middle earth, and twenty five ways to drink milk with a straw. And only ten involve your mouth!" He grinned broadly and tried not to look like a young wizard molester. Oops, did I say that out loud?

"Really? COOL!" Harry leaned forward in his chair and stared at the old wizard expectantly. "When do we start?"

"Right now, my boy, if you want! Come, back to my private chambers where I keep my stash of, erm, straws." Gandalf hustled the boy out the door and through long complicated series of passages, before nearly shoving him through a door and slamming it behind him.

***

Later that night, Harry lie awake in bed thinking about his 'learning' experience. Funny, he thought, I always figured 'Blowing the Horn of Gondor' was supposed to summon the great armies of the west. He rolled onto his side; he rear was a bit sore. I don't think I remember eating a knut, and I definitely don't think there was any reason for him to attempt to retrieve it. Especially with THAT. Bloody old wizard must be loosing his mind.

*End Flashback*

"You see, Hermione, I didn't even know I slept with him until Ron read How to Be a Happy Homosexual and told me. He was very interested in it, surprisingly." Harry looked perplexed and possibly slightly disgusted at this realization.

"Uhg, Harry, too much information. Go back to bed."

So Harry did, on the way up retrieving the other half of his shirt from its place in the door jam, and giving Ron a good kick (he was still laughing) before hurling himself beneath the sheets.