
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/108389.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      Multi
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_Rowling
  Relationship:
      Harry/Harry, Hogwarts_Orgy
  Stats:
      Published: 2004-01-20 Words: 5403
****** 8 Kilometre ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     Following an Apparition attempt, two Harry Potters show up in
     Dumbledore's office. In order to determine which is which, Dumbledore
     suggests a Parselmouth duel, but even he didn't realise how sexy two
     Parselmouths can be once they're in the same room.
Notes
     Warnings: Slash, het, threesomes, foursomes, voyeurism, bestiality,
     and self/self.
"You've done it, Harry!" Albus Dumbledore smiled upon Harry Potter, his eyes
twinkling merrily.
"Wow!" exclaimed Harry, excited. "I Apparated on my first try and I didn't even
get splinched!"
Professor Dumbledore beamed at the Boy-Who-Lived. "And all the way across my
office, too. You must have envisioned it perfectly." Harry beamed back.
Just then, a commotion could be heard from the bottom of the spiral staircase.
"Fuck!" screamed a male voice from below. "What the hell are you trying to do
to me, Dumbledore?" The voice then shouted "Ice Mice," the password to the
Headmaster's office. Several loud noises could be heard, along with various
profanities that sounded like "senile old bastard" and "God damned, sodding
Apparition. I'll fucking kill him." Harry and Dumbledore just stared dumbly at
one another.
When the visitor reached the top of the stairs, all three people looked around
in surprise, for there stood Harry Potter, Albus Dumbledore, and...Harry
Potter? "Well, fuck!" bellowed the Newest Harry Potter.
"It seems we may have a problem here," stated the Headmaster, better known in
some circles as The Master of the Obvious.
Harry Two snorted. "I have no idea who this bloke is, but I know I was trying
to Apparate across this rumpus room you call an office, and somehow landed
right outside Snape's quarters."
"Did you lose any points for Gryffindor?" asked Harry One, fretfully wringing
his hands.
Harry Two snorted again. "Probably. I just checked out his arse and came right
back here."
 
"You're an impostor!" cried Harry One, dramatically pointing his finger at
Harry Two's face. Harry Two responded by lightly sucking on the proffered
finger. Harry One pulled way, as though he'd been burned. "That was incredibly
disturbing," said Harry One, aghast.
"Indeed," said Albus, adjusting his robes. "Is it hot in here?"
"No," replied Harrys.
"Listen, whoever you are," said Harry Two, eyeing his double. "If you're
another one of those Polyjuiced Death Eaters, you might as well give up now.
Old Albie over here was already fooled once by that. Fool him twice, shame on
him, yeh? So scoot on out of here before I hex you so badly your bollocks end
up somewhere on the moors. I'm the real Harry Potter."
"No, I'm the real Harry Potter," said Harry One.
 
"Wrong."
"Am not!"
"You are," said Harry Two, calmly.
"I am not!" Harry One's voice rose to near-hysterical proportions.
"Are."
Just as Harry One looked like he might hyperventilate, Dumbledore intervened.
"Boys, this will solve nothing. I say we exploit Harry's unique skills in order
to determine which of you is the real one."
"What a splendid idea!" replied Harry One, clasping his hands together.
Harry Two eyed Dumbledore suspiciously. "What did you have in mind?"
 
"Well, You - erm, Harry speaks Parseltongue, which is a rare ability. I admit,
I'm not quite sure if that ability would be passed on if one used Polyjuice
Potion, but it's worth a try."
"Oh, but there aren't any snakes in this office, are there, Professor
Dumbledore, sir?" Harry One's eyes were as wide as saucers. Harry Two wondered
if Harry One was going to do that weird thing with his hands again.
"Why don't we just conjure one?" Harry Two raised his wand. "Serpen--"
"No!" interrupted Dumbledore. "I have a better idea. You two shall have a
Parseltongue duel in the Great Hall tonight after dinner! We'll allow the older
students to be your audience."
In unison, Harry One clapped his hands, gave a little hop, and said,
"Splendid!" as Harry Two incredulously asked, "Why?"
"To move the plot along, of course," twinkled Albus. "Seven o'clock sharp
then?"
Harry One nodded enthusiastically, while Harry Two shrugged nonchalantly.
"Whatever."
 
                                      ***
Throughout dinner, Harry One nervously wrung his hands, compulsively ran his
fingers through his hair, and bit his lower lip. When, for the tenth time in
five minutes, he inspected his robes for invisible lint, Ron asked around a
mouthful of food, "Ah yuu ah raht?"
Harry One studied Ron's face intently. "Pardon me, friend. What was that?"
Primly, Hermione wiped her mouth and said, "If Ron had any sort of manners, he
would have finished chewing first. He wants to know if you're all right. As do
I." Hermione paused, searching for the appropriate words. "You seem more jumpy
than usual."
"Ah. Well, it's nothing, Hermione. Just jittery. This too will pass, so Ronald
has nothing to worry about." Harry One worried his lip again, musing about the
impostor's whereabouts. Dinner was nearly over and his soon-to-be sparring
partner was nowhere in sight.
Suddenly, the doors to the Great Hall swung open, slamming loudly against the
wall.
"Did he just call me Ronald?" Ron incredulously asked Hermione. Hermione never
replied, as her attentions were fixed on the newest arrival.
The Other Harry Potter framed the doorway, grinning wildly. His messy black
hair had been bleached blond and he was wearing a white t-shirt and impossibly
oversized trousers. A fag casually dangled from the corner of his mouth and,
though his trademark glasses were still in place, a large amount of black
eyeliner circled his eyes, making his eyes look so green that many present
wondered if the colour was illegal. Hermione's head quickly pivoted from Harry
Two to Harry One, giving herself a minor case of whiplash.
 
"...What?" asked Ron.
Harry One wondered where on Earth Harry Two had gotten all of this. True, much
of his clothing was oversized, but that was due to Dudley, not fashion. The
trousers Harry Two wore were designed to look the way they did. Fretfully, he
hoped the fake hadn't robbed a liquor store! It would ruin the sanctity of the
Potter name!
"Excuse me, students!" Dumbledore rose, attempting to quiet the din that had
occurred upon the fraud's arrival. "As you have probably noticed, we have the
problem of too many Harry Potters on our hands." The Headmaster chuckled, as a
clutch of Hufflepuff girls squealed happily. Apparently, it wasn't a problem
for everyone. "We've cleverly devised a way to possibly determine who is who. I
would like to invite everyone in Fourth Year and above to stay and watch the
proceedings. The rest of you are dismissed!" he concluded, waving merrily. The
younger students whined about the injustice of it all as they exited and one
second year Ravenclaw tried grabbing a handful of Harry Two on her way out. No
one blamed her.
Professor McGonagall stood up, her lips already pursed. "May I remind you, Mr.
Potter, or whoever you are, that there is to be no smoking on the premises. I
shall take points!"
Harry Two, who was making his way up to the Head Table, held up his hands in
mock-defeat and said, "Not a problem, Minnie." Passing by the Slytherin table,
he casually deposited the cigarette in Draco Malfoy's glass, running his hand
along Malfoy's jaw as he drew back. Malfoy's eyes closed and he sighed. He then
looked wildly around to see if anyone noticed. Of course they had. What were
they, blind?
Dumbledore looked towards the Gryffindor table, most of whom still had their
jaws scraping along the floor. He beckoned towards Harry One. "Harry, if you
would?" Harry One nodded and moved towards the front of the hall, avoiding the
incredulous stares of Hermione, Ron, and well, everyone else. Dumbledore
conjured a long stage and a small, high table. When the Harrys reached the
front of the room, they stood on either side of the table, facing one another.
Pointing to the table, the Headmaster conjured a snake and Harry Two once again
wondered why all this couldn't have happened three hours ago.
Harry Two smirked at Harry One. "You first, pretty boy."
 
Harry One nodded resolutely and turned to look at the snake. "Let the games
begin!" shouted Professor Dumbledore. He walked away and settled at the Head
Table again.
Crouching down until he was eye-to-eye with the snake, Harry One began
speaking. "Hello, Little Snake, I'm just going to talk to you for awhile. It's
more for them," he said, gesturing broadly, "than for either of us. Do you
understand?"
The snake bobbed his head up and down.
"Okay, now this will probably make little sense, so bear with me. I'm in
Gryffindor House at Hogwarts. We're known for our bravery and nobility. If it
wasn't for my fellow Gryffindors I would have gone crazy, long ago. We like to
get into trouble, but are generally good people. I think that the values
instilled in such an esteemed learning institution will help me in my battle
against Voldemort. I have to believe it!" Harry One had straightened up during
his speech, clutching one hand to his chest, the other stretched high above
him, like he was holding a torch.
Though Harry Two looked rather laconic, the rest of the student body felt
something odd occur. When Harry One spoke, the language – which, of course,
they couldn't understand - sounded like singing. Like a snake singing, if such
a thing were possible. Apparently, when snakes sang, it was really, really
sexy. Several people shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Much of Ravenclaw
was staring at the stage in open-mouthed awe. The Hufflepuff table all seemed
to be making googly eyes at one another, as were several members of Gryffindor.
On the surface, the Slytherins seemed to be rather calm and collected, but
observant eyes would notice that under the table, several knees were being
groped and an eager game of footsie was underway between Bulstrode and Nott.
Colin Creevey was already on his feet, snapping photo after photo.
Watching the scene unfold, Harry Two grinned madly. Harry One wasn't exactly
sure why. Harry One had just spoken Parseltongue, after all! That proved he was
the real Harry Potter, didn't it?
Harry Two lightly flicked out his tongue, beckoning the snake with one finger.
The snake didn't move until Harry Two asked, "Does dirty talk bother you,
Little One?"
 
The snake slithered over and asked, "What'sss dirty talk?"
"Just something to drive him crazy," Harry Two replied, gesturing at Harry One.
Harry One's eyes widened. The impostor was a Parselmouth, too. Not only that,
but Harry One noticed that his voice was an odd mix of English and snake
sounds. He remembered that he'd been able to understand Tom Riddle, but it
never--
He never thought--
The words didn't sound like this before. Heat pooled at his groin and he met
Harry Two's eyes, panicking slightly. Harry Two told the snake that he was free
to move freely about, but warned him to stay in sight and not to hurt anyone.
The snake nodded and slithered off the table. Harry Two sent one more glance in
the snake's direction before catching Harry One's gaze. Green eyes intently
studied their matched set. "What about you, Harry?" asked the not-quite-fake.
"Does dirty talk bother you?"
A gasp caught in Harry One's throat, but he didn't respond.
 
Harry Two smirked at his counterpart. "See, we're smart. The way I see it, we
got split up after Apparating, so we're really both Harry. How else would I
know about two nights ago when you wanked in the shower and thought about Draco
Malfoy?"
Harry One gripped the sides of the stage's table for support. It was true, as
much as he hated to admit it, and there was no way anyone could have known it.
Harry Two made his way around the table, putting his arms around Harry One's
waist and leaning in close to his ear. Hissing, he asked, "Do you want me to
describe exactly how you stroked yourself? How I bit my tongue to keep from
screaming out his name?" Harry Two pressed something hard and insistent into
the back of Harry One's thigh. In response, Harry One bumped his body up
against the table and gulped.
In the Great Hall, everyone was paying attention to the Harry Potters, yet no
one was paying attention to them. Harry Two continued, raising his voice, "Look
at them, Harry. They can hear us, but they can't understand. Apparently,
though, hearing us has the same effect on them as it did on me." He snaked his
hand around to the front of Harry One's robes. "And on you, too, I see. Who
knew that Parseltongue was such a fucking turn-on?" Harry Two removed his hand,
causing Harry One to whimper slightly. "I'm just going to talk for now. More
later."
Harry Two detailed how Harry had thought about slamming Malfoy up against a
wall and exactly what noises he thought Malfoy made when he came. Though the
audience couldn't understand a thing, the words were obviously affecting all
present, as they heard a series of loud, throaty growls and sibilant sounds. If
Harry One's voice had been an angelic snake choir, then Harry Two's was the
soundtrack to a snake pornography.
Among the Gryffindors, Ron and Neville were snogging madly. Neville's hands
were tangled in Ron's flaming red hair, their hips grinding together in a slow
circle. Ron was trying to remove Neville's robes, his own already half-off.
Further down, Parvati sat in her chair, head between Lavender's legs. Lavender
was propped up on the table, feet on either side of Parvati's thighs, head
thrown back and gasping helplessly. Colin Creevey took more pictures and
Hermione was nowhere to be seen.
"...And then your hand wrapped around Draco's cock, pumping, as you slammed
into him. You wanted to make him scream, didn't you, Harry? I wanted to make
him scream. I wanted to see his pretty, pink lips yelling out our name as he
came, begging, begging for more." A blush bloomed on Harry One's cheeks, but he
didn't deny the claims. Harry Two smiled wickedly. "Oh, but it's not just
Malfoy, is it? Ron and Hermione are watching us, Harry. They don't know what we
think about them. Maybe I should tell Ron where your hand goes at night, how I
watch him sleep."
 
Harry One squirmed, attempting to pull away, but his heart wasn't really in it.
"Stop," he weakly pleaded. "They might hear."
The snake, back from his travels, curled around their legs. Harry One jumped at
the movement, but Harry Two paused to grin down at the snake. "But Harry, Ron
can't understand us right now, can he?"
Ron, in fact, had been pushed up against the wall by a surprisingly aggressive
Neville, mesmerised by the Harrys mingled voices. He was listening, but
comprehension was somewhat far from his mind.
"I'm sure he'd look good on his knees, staring up at us. And what about
Hermione? I know I'd love messing her up a little. Getting her sensible
knickers soaked right through? Mmm."
Closing his eyes, Harry One managed to say, "I...I don't want...any of that."
Harry Two chuckled. "There's really no point in lying to me. So, do you think
Neville and Snape know that we think they're at odds because of unresolved
sexual tension? I could walk right up to either one of them right now and
detail exactly how you planned on resolving their differences." Harry Two moved
his hands up Harry One's sides, spinning him around so they were now face to
face. "We could make these fantasies real, you and I. Would you want that?"
Flicking his tongue out again, he slowly traced the outline of his
doppelganger's mouth, as a moan that sounded more like a hiss escaped Harry
One's mouth.
"You could understand me before?" asked Harry One.
 
"Look who finally decided to catch up with the rest of the class." Harry Two
lifted a hand and caressed Harry One's cheek. Involuntarily, Harry One crushed
his face against the hand.
"You ssssound like a ssssnake," confessed Harry One quietly.
"Assss do you." Harry Two shifted his hips so their erections ground together
and sighed.
As the two Harrys got lost in their own little Parselworld, absolute chaos
erupted all around them. McGonagall's hand was the only part of her on top of
the Head Table. The rest of her body had been pulled underneath its surface,
Professor Snape's legs sticking out from under her robes. Cho Chang was on all-
fours atop the Ravenclaw table, Michael Corner fervently thrusting into her
from behind, with Luna Lovegood arranged underneath Cho's body. The two girls
kissed passionately, their tongues quite visible. Three Ravenclaw boys had
chairs pulled up alongside the action, helpfully stroking one another.
Ravenclaws always had been problem solvers, after all. Robes were nowhere to be
seen.
In a bold move that probably wouldn't have happened had Ron not been completely
oblivious to his surroundings (more so than usual, of course), Ginny Weasley
strode over to the Slytherins and yanked Pansy Parkinson by the hair. She then
practically tore off the other girl's robes, causing several fastenings to make
clanking noises as they hit the floor. Ginny then licked her way from Pansy's
neck to her navel. Pansy gasped in surprise, yet made no moves to push Ginny
away.
A couple of feet away from Pansy and Ginny, Draco Malfoy had his arms crossed,
frustrated, because Crabbe and Goyle were arguing about who would get to suck
him off. It seemed as though things might come to blows - and not the good kind
- so Draco searched the room for an available partner. His cock wasn't going to
suck itself, after all. Ron chose that moment to open his eyes, the blond and
redhead's eyes locking. Ron looked down at a kneeling Neville and said
something that Draco couldn't hear, what with him being clear across the room
and all. Neville bobbed his head in a different way and Ron smiled, beckoning
Draco with his finger. As Crabbe and Goyle were now rolling around on the
ground and, oh my, maybe the blows would be the good kind, Draco shrugged and
strolled to the Gryffindor side, tossing off his robes as he went. Ron greeted
the newest member of their party with a kiss, deeply probing Draco's mouth with
his tongue. Neville then stood up and greeted Draco himself, as Ron sunk to the
floor to claim Neville's old spot.
Hermione was still conspicuously absent.
 
Harry Two slid Harry One's robe off his body, exposing the Muggle clothing he
always wore underneath. "You should talk to the people, love. Give them what
they want," urged Harry Two. He leaned down and lightly nipped Harry One's
neck. "Give me what I want."
Completely at a loss of words and not particularly caring that the other Harry
could understand every word, Harry One started reciting the first thing that
came to mind – any details he could remember about the animals listed in
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. Hagrid would be proud, if only he
could understand what Harry One was saying. Well, that, and if he didn't have
Professor Flitwick clutching his crotch like the diminutive man was sliding
down a fire pole. "A-An acromantula is a giant sp-spider," Harry One stuttered.
Harry Two traced the shell of Harry One's ear with his tongue, hands undoing
each of Harry One's shirt buttons. "This is wrong, this is wrong." Harry Two
nibbled on Harry One's collar bone. "Oh! Banshees are dark creatures, with f-
floor length b-black hair...."
At the Head Table, Albus surveyed the madness calmly, smiling and twinkling,
twinkling and smiling. He seemingly wasn't participating in the action, but, if
one listened closely, the muffled trill of a phoenix could be heard from his
general direction. No one saw Fawkes or any other phoenix enter the room, but
then, that was Dumbledore's mystique, wasn't it?
Another person in the room wasn't currently entangled in limbs and other
assembled body parts, too. Hufflepuff's Susan Bones had pulled a chair right up
to the stage and was intently staring at the ongoing action between the Harrys.
Her right hand was moving frantically, buried within the depths of her robe,
and she shrugged off the offers of Ernie Macmillan and Zacharias Smith without
a moment's thought. "Are you mad?" she asked them. "This is the main event
right here!" Later that night, Susan would commit the events she witnessed to
parchment, detail by delicious detail. For days afterwards, she could be found
lovingly clutching that parchment to her chest.
After they were rebuffed, Ernie and Zacharias shrugged and turned to each
other, instead.
Harry Two, having successfully removed Harry One's shirt, caught a nipple
between his teeth, biting lightly. Harry One hissed sharply. "Fuh-Fuh-
Flobberworms primarily consume a diet of l-lettuce." Kneeling, Harry Two licked
a trail down Harry One's abdomen. "Their mucus is a way to thicken p-p-
potions." Harry Two unbuttoned Harry One's fly with one hand and eased Harry
One's trousers off his hips. Harry One toed off his shoes almost automatically,
so he could step out of his trousers. "They're t-t-toothless, brown, and ten-
inches long."
 
"Ten inches? That's a little wishful thinking, I have to say. Not that I don't
share those sentiments, mind." Laughing, Harry Two pulled down Harry One's
pants, leaving him dressed in only his white socks, which had bunched around
his ankles. "Still impressive, though."
Harry Two lightly licked the length of the other Harry's cock, sending shivers
down Harry One's spine. "F-fuck!" he gasped.
"Nice to see you breaking out of the good boy role, finally. Now, my mouth's
going to be busy," said Harry Two, bringing one hand up to cup Harry One's
balls, "so you're going to need to do all the talking." Harry Two swirled his
tongue along the head of Harry One's prick, lapping up the drops that had
already escaped. "Understand?"
Harry One's hands grasped the edge of the table and he nodded. "Y-yes." Harry
Two engulfed Harry One's length. "Oh God!" cried Harry One. "Where did you
learn that? I know I've never done that before." In reply, Harry Two only
hummed around his mouthful. "Your mouth...my mouth...our mouth is so warm!"
Staring up at Harry One, Harry Two moved at a maddeningly slow rate. "God...,"
breathed Harry One, more turned on than he'd ever been in his life. The
recurring thoughts about how wrong this was faded a little more each time Harry
Two's lips reached the base of his cock. When Harry Two's fingers started
playing at Harry One's entrance, his whole body froze, but not from fear. Harry
Two pulled away and stood, causing Harry One to hiss-whimper at the loss.
Harry Two yanked his T-shirt over his head and Harry One admired the boy's form
for a second, until the full realisation that it was his own sunk in. This
didn't accomplish anything other than making him harder, which he thought was a
very strange reaction, indeed. Harry Two casually flicked open the button at
the top of his trousers. Because they were so oversized, they easily pooled
around his ankles. Harry One swallowed hard as he noticed that Harry Two had
been wearing nothing underneath.
"Why did you dye your hair?" Harry One blurted suddenly, surprising even
himself.
 
Harry Two smiled and took a step closer to Harry One, ghosting his hand over
the trail of hair both their stomachs possessed. "I wanted us to look
different. Makes this easier, doesn't it?"
Harry One nodded, suddenly inspired to suck lightly on Harry Two's neck. He
leaned in, tentatively moving his mouth. Harry Two tasted salty and Harry One
wondered, if he tasted himself, would Harry One taste exactly the same? Harry
Two's breathing grew slightly more ragged. "And the makeup?" asked Harry One,
gesturing at Harry Two's startling green eyes.
"Well, that just makes us look fucking sexy, doesn't it?"
"Indeed it does," replied Harry One, breathing just as heavily.
Harry Two leaned in and their tongues briefly met in a delicious tangle before
Harry Two pulled away. "We've got to keep talking. That's why they don't notice
us." Still slightly breathless, Harry Two said clearly, "Let me fuck you."
When he felt himself nod, Harry One was quite sure he'd gone completely mad.
The more involved the Harrys became, the more their mingled voices seemed to
affect the atmosphere. The air grew thick and heady, somewhat like a
rainforest, but whether this was due to the Parseltongue, the frenzied
activity, or a mixture of both was wasn't outwardly apparent. Meanwhile, Seamus
and Dean had somehow shoehorned themselves into Pansy and Ginny's tête-à-tête.
Somewhat literally, in fact. The foursome now occupied the corner of the hall
closest to the doors, bending and twisting like pretzels in order to
accommodate all involved parties. In the morning, Pansy wouldn't regret what
had happened, only that it happened with Gryffindors.
 
Colin had discovered his muse. He and his camera rapidly took pictures of Susan
Bones, whose heavily lidded eyes still stared intently at Harrys One and Two.
Her hand was moving in a frenetic circle and Colin, finally reaching his limit,
reached out to her. With her free hand, Susan slapped him away. "Not now.
Busy." Frustrated, Colin grabbed Hannah Abbot, who was clad only in a black
bra, matching lace panties, knee socks and sensible shoes. The new pair sunk to
the ground, kissing deeply, though one of Colin's arms was still outstretched
as he haphazardly tried getting any shot he could.
At the front of the room, the conjured snake slithered around the various
couples, watching with a sense of detached amusement. "Warm blood makesss you
all ssso funny," he commented to the two Parselmouths.
The snake had a point. Harry One had been bent over the table by Harry Two, the
latter tangling his hands in the former's dark hair. Harry One panted with
need. "I want you," he admitted quietly.
"What was that?" asked Harry Two, smiling wryly, as he rubbed his cock against
the cleft of Harry One's arse. "Couldn't quite make that out."
"God, I want you inside me," Harry One nearly shouted. The din from the various
couples surrounding them grew noticeably louder at this statement.
Harry Two quickly found his wand and muttered a spell, coating his fingers in a
slippery, coconut-scented oil. "Oh, thank God that worked," Harry Two said,
relieved. "I didn't want to have to ask the house elves to fetch us cooking oil
or something."
As two of Harry Two's fingers eased their way past the ring of muscle, Harry
One cried out, "Oh good God!" Harry Two moved at a leisurely pace and Harry One
forced himself to relax, a task made easier when the fingers pushed in a bit
further and rubbed past a spot that made a groan escape from the back of his
throat. "Wh-where did you learn that spell, anyway? I'm sure I don't know that
one."
 
Harry Two experimentally wiggled his fingers, pleased with the noises his
double made. "The lubrication spell? Yeh, you don't know that one. I learned it
this afternoon."
"This afternoon?"
"Mmm. Had a very...educational afternoon in Hogsmeade."
"Huh. Ooh. Oh, that feels good."
"What do you mean, 'Huh'?"
"Oh, I was just wondering if this means I'm still a virgin or not."
Harry Two withdrew his fingers and wrapped the hand around his own cock, which
he rubbed against Harry One's entrance. "Not gonna matter much in a couple of
minutes, anyway." He slowly pushed into Harry One, both moaning due to the
overload of sensation. Harry One gripped the edge of the table so hard that his
knuckles turned white. Harry Two shuddered. "Oh, holy fuck." His aching cock
moved in and out of the tight hole, each stroke rewarded with a whimper from
his duplicate. Harry Two let loose with a near constant string of profanity and
grasping one of Harry One's hips with one hand, he reached around and grabbed
Harry One's cock.
"Oh, please," begged Harry One. Harry Two leaned down so his chest, slick with
sweat, pressed against Harry One's back. Harry Two pumped his fist to match the
movement of his hips, Harry One rocking to meet both motions.
 
Harry One now understood the concept of being completely filled. He could hear
Harry Two chanting, "Fuck, fuck, fuck, oh god, you're so tight, god, oh god!"
in his ear, as the hand around his cock moved faster and faster. As Harry Two's
prick drove deep and hit the same spot that his fingers had moments earlier,
Harry One's breath grew ragged and he knew he couldn't hold out much longer.
His face pressed against the table, his match's face against his back, Harry
One let out a wanton moan and closed his eyes.
"I can't...I'm going to...God, please, fuck, God, I need to come now."
"Fuck, I can't hold on anymore."
"God, yes, come for me, come for me, now, now, now!"
"Yessssssssssss!" he hissed loudly, the word reverberating throughout the room.
Harry came hard, little spots of light appearing in front of his still-closed
eyes. At the exact same moment, warm wetness filled him inside. Exhausted, he
collapsed on the table.
After a moment, he realised there was no longer any pressure on his back. Or
was it on his front? There was also a deafening silence surrounding him. The
only sounds he could hear were his own ragged breathing and the threatening
hiss of the conjured snake. Inwardly, Harry groaned before daring to open one
eye.
 
All around, people were in various states of undress, none moving. Most of them
were gaping open-mouthed at Harry, perhaps because there was only one of him
again, but more likely because he was starkers in front of the vast majority of
the student population. Harry winced and glanced behind him. And in front of
all of the faculty, too.
Embarrassed, Cho Chang rolled off the Ravenclaw table and sat in her seat,
hunting around for robes. Any robes would do.
Seamus and Dean balled up their clothes and dashed back to the Gryffindor table
when they recognised Pansy Parkinson, though Ginny lightly brushed the
Slytherin's arm before returning to her housemates.
Just about everyone was hunting for or straightening their robes.
Susan Bones slumped in her chair, a queer half-smile plastered on her face. She
seemed quite sated.
Draco Malfoy jumped back and gasped "Weasel!" He rushed back to the Slytherins
and, upon his return, viciously kicked Crabbe in the ribs, ordering him to get
dressed. Ron and Neville watched him go for a moment. Shrugging, they then
turned to each other again and began snogging in earnest once again.
Snape disentangled himself from McGonagall's robes, both trying to look as
dignified as possible. Dignity went out the window when Hermione crawled out
from underneath Snape's robes a second later. It seemed she'd been "doing some
extra-credit" the entire time.
 
In the middle of everything stood Colin Creevey, wailing and gnashing his
teeth. Apparently, he'd never bothered to load his camera with film. The rest
of the students didn't care. Less incriminating evidence!
Blushing madly, Harry gathered his belongings and hobbled back to the
Gryffindor table, finding it surprisingly uncomfortable to walk. He hastily got
dressed, as the Headmaster stood. Fawkes flew off, trilling something that
Harry thought sounded rather indignant. "Ah, a most enlightening evening,"
Dumbledore stated happily, making the conjured snake disappearing a puff of
grey smoke. Ninety-nine percent of those present looked at Dumbledore
incredulously. Ron and Neville were still groping each other on the floor. "It
seems they were both the real Harry Potter."
Harry stood up. "Did you know about this?" he asked angrily.
"Of course not, Harry. Please sit." Harry sat. "As I was saying, it's a
pleasure to have Harry back to his old self and I'm quite glad the aspects of
his personality so amiably reunited."
Harry stared directly at his lap, blushing bright crimson, but smiling
inwardly. He could still feel the hot breath on the back of his neck, the sense
of driving in and out of another body, and what it felt like to have another
person inside him. His cock gave an appreciative twitch at the thought.
Still adjusting her robes, Hermione reached the table, joining Harry. She
gasped. "Harry, what's wrong with your hair?"
 
Harry picked up a teaspoon and examined his reflection. Weaved through his dark
hair, right above his trademark lightening bolt scar, was a streak of platinum.
Harry grinned and brushed the hair away from his eyes, before passing the
teaspoon onto Ron.
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