Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Our Little Norrie	By : AikawaAkihiko Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 47025 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 15
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER AND MAKE NO PROFIT FROM THIS STORY

Chapter List
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A/N: Warning! You are about to embark on a smut filled journey full of OOC-ness! This is just a bit of fun, so it won’t be my best writing but I will certainly have fun doing it, so enjoy.

Chapter 1

Harry clutched his wand in his trembling hand as he silently walked down the sleepy suburban street. He kept to the shadows, wary of being seen by anyone who happened to be peeking out their windows that late at night. He hugged himself, trying to stave off the torrential rain, ducking his head against the pounding thunder, and wished he had one of his Weasley jumpers, but those were back in his trunk.

The trunk that, as always when he was sent back to the Dursleys’ for the summer, was locked up in the cupboard under the stairs. In that trunk was almost everything he owned; his books, his good clothes, his invisibility cloak, even his pictures of his parents, locked away so he could not get to them. The only thing he was able to save from being locked away this summer was his wand and his small pouch of galleons with his vault key inside.

It was a good thing he did, too. Earlier in the evening, once he had been locked in his room for the night, he released Hedwig, his great snowy owl, from her cage, telling her to go to Hogwarts, where she’d be safe. It would not do to keep her locked up; who would feed her? Not Harry. He was getting out of Little Whinging and not coming back if he could help it.

He could not take it anymore. Since he had returned from his fifth year at Hogwarts two weeks ago, the Dursleys had been more brutal than ever. They worked him like a slave during the day; his only comfort from the heat was the occasional drink of cool water that he had been able to sneak from the garden hose. Every few days, or whenever his Aunt Petunia remembered, a can of cold soup or a couple pieces of bread was pushed through the cat-flap in his bedroom door.

The worst was Uncle Vernon. He had slapped and pushed Harry before, but now, he seemed to take great pleasure in causing Harry pain. Slaps had turned into closed fist punches and pushes led to Harry’s short, thin, frame being thrown around the room. Dudley was as disdainful as ever, though, seeing what his father did to him, he had been surprisingly reluctant to physically torment Harry this summer.

This afternoon had been the particularly bad. After having burnt the dinner that he was made to cook for the Dursleys, Uncle Vernon gleefully and maliciously beat him. While he was being kicked on the spotless living room floor he knew he could not stay there anymore. As he was being hauled up the stairs, he decided to run away. When he was thrown and crashed painfully on his bedroom floor, he started planning to escape that night.

It was not hard. The many locks on the outside of his door were easy to bypass with a wave of his wand and a whispered “Alohomora”, his door creaked open. He tip-toed in the dark passed the rooms containing the Dursleys. Dudley’s TV blaring, the boy having been too lazy to click it off before he fell to sleep, and the thunderous snoring of his uncle effectively drowned out the creaking floor boards as Harry made his way down the stairs.

Once outside in the midsummer’s night, he just started walking. He had to walk slowly, his ribs aching and his various wounds throbbing, after his uncle’s assault. That was ok, though, because he did not have anywhere to go yet. Where could he run?

He could not run to Dumbledore or take refuge at Hogwarts. The Headmaster would only send him back, saying that number four Privet Drive was the safest place he could be because of the blood wards, so he was out. He could not go to the Weasley’s because they would just tell Dumbledore. Sirius was dead, so he could not give Harry shelter, though his heart thumped painfully knowing that his godfather would have, without question, if he had been alive. Now his house was used by the Order, exclusively, and once again, if he went there, he would be reported to Dumbledore. Hermione was not an option. Harry had no idea where she lived or how to get there. Even if he did, he feared, her disparaging of rule breaking would lead her to inform the Order of his whereabouts.

Who was left? Where could he go?

He smiled (or tied to, his face was pretty swollen) in the dark as the perfect place came to him. He raised his wand up, and before he could lower it back down to his side a large, purple, triple decker bus zoomed to a stop in front of him.

“’Ey! ‘Ello again, Mr. Longbottom!” Stan Shunpike greeted as the bus doors slid open. “Oy, look like you’ve seen the bad end o’ a Hippogriff!”

“Hello, Stan,” Harry nodded a greeting at the lanky, pimple faced man, remembering that the last time he had boarded the bus, he had given the young conductor his friend’s name as an alias. He stepped on to the bus, careful to hold on as it instantly took off at great speed.

“Where you off to, then, Mr. Longbottom?”

“Diagon Alley” he answered, trying to dry off his rain splattered glasses with his sopping wet t-shirt.

Harry stumbled his way back to take a seat on one of the beds, sliding around the back of the bus. He was tired and in pain but he knew that where he was going he would find shelter.

In no time at all, the large purple bus slammed to a stop.

“’Ere we are, Diagon Alley,” Stan announced in his thick Cockney accent.

Harry exited and made his way through the empty streets, hunched against the wind and the rain. It was late at night, or early in the morning, depending on one’s point of view, and the usually busy streets were desolate. Unseen, he arrived at his destination, 93 Diagon Alley.

The store windows of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes were dark, the store having been long closed for the night. Above the store, lights shown through the windows of the small flat that housed the store owners, indicating the occupants were still awake.

Harry had come to the only two people he knew that he thought would help him over the cause of the light, Fred and George Weasley. The eternal pranksters would never snitch on him, and would only be too happy to help him out. They, more than anyone in the Weasley clan, were fiercely protective of him. Harry had given them his thousand galleon winnings of the Tri-Wizard Tournament to start their store, after they had taken him under their wings and the three had grown to be close friends, especially after Ron had deserted him in a bout of jealousy last year.

Harry knocked on the door and waited, trembling with the cold. The door swung open to reveal the curious face of Fred, who stood in the doorway, clad only in navy blue pajama bottoms and clutching his red house robe closed to the cool stormy night.

“Harry?” he asked, opening the door instantly for Harry. “What are you doing here, mate? And at this hour?”

Harry stepped into the warm entrance way, rubbing his hands over his arms, covered only by his overlarge and threadbare t-shirt. His clothes were soaked through and he dripped on the well-worn wood flooring.

Above them could be heard footsteps and George appeared on the stairway, also in his night clothes, bare chested with low hanging green pajama bottoms. “Hey, Har-” he stopped and gasped. “Harry, what happened to you?” He charged down the stairs and wrapped his arm around Harry’s thin shoulders. Fred turned and gawked at the shivering boy, finally seeing his face in the light of the stairwell.

Harry sighed tiredly. “My uncle,” he said sullenly. Fred and George had heard about Harry’s awful muggle family, but like most, had figured Dumbledore would not have left him there if it was too bad there. They were disappointed that they were wrong.

“Come in, Harry, and let’s get you warmed up,” George guided the boy up the stairs and into their apartment.

Once up stairs, Harry was guided to a small but cozy living room. The twins went off to gather healing potions, and Harry took the time to survey the room. The flat was small, the kitchen area and sitting room combined into one space, and the doors to the single bedroom and bath were connected on the opposite wall to the fireplace. Besides a lumpy brown sofa, there were two old, mismatched chairs. Various potions ingredients and colorful paper littered the room, obviously materials used in the many experiments conducted in developing more potential products for the twin’s joke shop.

The twins reappeared, Fred holding a few jars of salves and potions, and George carrying a wet cloth and a large fluffy towel.

“Alright Harry, take off those wet clothes.”

“Here’s a warm towel to wrap up in…”

“While we fix you up.”

Harry hesitantly peeled off his overlarge t-shirt. The twins glanced at each other, both trying not to gasp out loud at the sight the extensive bruising on his chest, stomach, and back. They watched as he gingerly untied the rope holding up his voluminous jeans, his bruised ribs protesting the movement, and revealed further bruising on his legs. He stood in the living room, naked, shyly covering his privates. He had no underpants. There was no way he was going to wear Dudley’s handed down and mysteriously stained Y-fronts.

George cast a Warming Charm on the fluffy white towel in his hands and wrapped the shivering boy up, leading him to the lumpy couch. Fred and George sat on either side of him, Fred wordlessly picking out what potions they would need, while George prepared to clean Harry’s blood stained face with the wet cloth.

“Ooo, that’s a nasty cut there,” he cooed softly, tenderly dabbing at a fairly deep cut above his eye.

“Here you go, Harry. Take a swig,” Fred held a smoking vial to his lips. The burning sensation on its way down let Harry know it had been Skele-Gro potion to heal his cracked ribs. Soon after, he held out a light pink colored one that Harry recognized immediately as a pain potion.

Once that was done, George tugged the towel from around his shoulders and chills rushed down his spine. He blushingly arranged it to cover his lap. He froze, his muscles tense, when George wrapped his arm around his chest, pulling him back to rest against his strong, warm chest. Living with the Dursleys’, touch was always painful, so he instinctively braced himself.

“Relax, Harry. I’ll keep you warm while Fred rubs in the Bruise Removal Paste,” George murmured into his ear. He lightly rubbed up and down the boy’s arm in and attempt to soothe him, while Fred administered the salve.

Once he had finished, Fred joined the other two and pressed himself to Harry’s front, wrapping the smaller boy in a hug. “It’s alright, Harry. We would never hurt you. You know that right?” he pressed a tender kiss to Harry’s cheek and soothingly stroked his thighs.

Sandwiched between two strong chests, wrapped tightly in warmth, Harry finally relaxed into their embraces. Almost as soon as he did, he succumbed to blackness, falling to an exhausted, healing sleep.

George gathered the small boy in his arms, careful not to wake him from his much needed rest. The towel slid to the floor revealing his now unmarred skin. The boy cuddled into the red-head’s warmth, as the twins took him to the bedroom.

Having only just started their business, the twins shared the single bed they could afford. George placed the sleeping boy in the middle and climbed in behind him, fitting his small body perfectly against his bare chest. Fred climbed in on the other side, pulling up the blankets and rubbing warm hands up and down Harry’s soft skin. The three fell asleep together in a tangle of limbs.

HP

The next morning, Harry woke up surrounded by warmth. His head was pillowed on Fred’s strong muscled shoulder and his naked body was pressed against the length of his side. Behind him George was spooned against him, his morning erection throbbed through his light cotton pajama pants and was nestled hot against his ass. The older boy’s arm was around his waist and his fingers brushed the top of Harry’s curly pubic hair.

Harry blushed when he felt his cock twitch in interest, being sandwiched between the two hot bodies. He was naked! And in bed with two men! He had suspected he was gay but had never hoped to be found in a situation such as this! He hoped he could climb out of bed and dress before either of the twins woke up and saw the compromising position they were in.

As if he had heard his thoughts, George stirred in his sleep. He squeezed Harry’s waist and moaned quietly into his neck, thrusting a few times against the boy’s rounded globes. His hands moved of their own volition, roaming over soft skin. Harry could do nothing but close his eyes in mortification as his member sprung to life against Fred’s hip.

George huffed a deep breath as he became more aware. “Oh, morning Harry,” he greeted and hugged him closer. He stretched against his back, his erection stabbing at Harry’s warm flesh. “Mmm, you feel so good, Harry.”

Fred, roused by his brother’s voice, stretched and turned on his side to face his brother and their guest. “Morning,” he said sleepily. He ran his hands down Harry’s side, resting on his hip. “Oh, what have we here?” he squeezed Harry’s half hard cock. Harry let out a moan.

“Did you enjoy your rest, then, Harry? It sure looks like you did,” George asked as he thrust once more against him.

Harry, embarrassed, flipped over to his back. The twins snickered.

Turning serious, Fred propped himself on his elbow to look down at the smaller boy. Running his hands over the boy’s thin chest he asked, “How do you feel, Harry?” his hands smoothed up to cup his cheek and stroke it lightly with his thumb. “Any more pain?”

“No. I’m better. Thank you, guys,” he smiled shyly up at the red-head.

“So, I take it, you’re staying for the summer?” George asked, resting his chin on his arm that he laid over the boy’s stomach.

Harry frowned down at him and up at Fred. “Umm, I was kind of hoping… I mean if I wouldn’t be a bother. I don’t really have anywhere else to go. Anyone else will tell Dumbledore, and he will just send me back.”

George shot up to lean above him. “Dumbledore knows about this? About how they treat you? And he still makes you go back?”

Harry lowered his eyes and nervously played with the sheet gathered around his hips. He was embarrassed about what his family did to him, that he wasn’t strong enough to stop them. He nodded to George’s question.

Fred hugged him. “Well, of course you can stay, Harry. You think you would like to help out in the store? We could use some summer help.”

“Oh, yeah! That would be great! I could work as payment for you guys letting me stay.” Harry said enthusiastically. His smile crumpled, however. “Oh, wait. I can’t be seen or someone will tell.”

“That’s simple enough to take care of,” said Fred.

“We just have to make a good disguise,” George chimed in.

Harry brightened at this and the three made their way out of bed, with much blushing from Harry who still found himself rather naked. After the three showered, dressed, and finished with their morning ablutions, they settled in the living room.

“Alright, Harry, stand over there,” instructed George.

“Now what kind of disguise would be good?” Fred pondered.

“It’s got to be unexpected.”

“It’s got to cover his scar.”

“Long hair should do it.”

“But then he will just look like Harry Potter with long hair.”

“Change the glasses, too.”

Harry blushed under their scrutiny and twisted his fingers together in front of him. Suddenly, Fred perked up, inspired by how adorable his guest was. His gaze took on a scrutinizing look before swinging to his brother. George took one look at his brother’s face and knew what he was thinking. He looked appraisingly at the small boy standing in front of them and smiled. “Oh, that’s perfect!”

The twins raised their wands and cast the spells.

“TRANSVESTIMA PUELLA!”

“CAPILLIUS!”

“TRANSFIGURUS!”

Harry closed his eyes and felt the tingle of magic all over his body, his scalp felt itchy. When he opened his eyes Fred and George were gaping at him.

“We are bloody brilliant, we are.”

“Right geniuses.”

Before Harry could react to a sudden suspicious breeze he felt on his legs, the twins grabbed hold of his shoulders and pushed him in front of the full length mirror in the bedroom.

Harry looked at himself and squeaked in surprise. His ratty old t-shirt had been transfigured into a short mint green dress. Its short puffed sleeves and the low cut scoop neckline were both lined with white lace ruffles. The waist was cinched with a wide white ribbon that was tied in a bow just under the bust line. The hemline was also lined in white lace ruffles and Harry blushed brightly, tugging at the fabric that only reached to the middle of his thigh. Below that, white silk stockings were pulled up above his knees with lace tops, leaving a tempting patch of pale thigh revealed above them. He balanced on white one inch Mary Jane heels with small bows at the toe.

“Well, Harry, what do you think? Pretty good, right?” Fred asked, smiling as he ran his fingers through Harry’s hair that now fell to the middle of his back. It fell about his face in soft curls, with a matching white ribbon bow, framing his face that now featured new glasses. His bright green eyes sparkled behind black cat-eye frames.

“I’m dressed as a girl!” Harry yelled in embarrassment.

“You sure are, beautiful,” George smiled cheekily as he pinched the “girls’” cheek.

“No one will ever see you and think ‘there’s the Boy-Who-Lived!’,” announced Fred.

“Well..,” Harry considered, “Um, I guess so. It’s not so bad.” He squirmed a bit. “Did- Did you guys transfigure me some underwear?!”

He lifted the skirt of his dress to reveal white silk panties. They were a bit too small and barely covered his cock. The twins smiled widely.

“Well, you can’t go around commando can you?” George insisted.

“Besides, they feel good, don’t they?” Fred snickered when he snapped the elastic band at his waist, causing Harry to jump.

“Yeah, they really do,” Harry said shyly, rubbing his thighs together. Fred and George shared a devious look above his head.

A/N: This started as just an excuse to write a bit of cross dressing, but I’m starting to see potential for an actual story here. Is there anything you want to see happen to our dear Harry?
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Our Little Norrie