Toppers Wallow

On Sunday, as usual, there was an influx of bodies, half of whom crossed the woods and appeared in public from the Woodyates direction. The two Filches were intrigued and joined the throng. As usual Ginny and Daphne joined our Blake pair and others came out of their cottages as the mini procession passed.



Harry was asked to read the Old Testament lesson which came from the book of the prophet Joel chapter two. He almost came to a stop when the words ‘I will pour out my spirit on all mankind; your sons and daughters shall prophesy, your old people shall dream dreams and your young ones see visions’. It took courage to stay there when he read that ‘the terrible day of the Lord comes’. He was relieved when he came to: ‘everyone who invokes the name of the Lord will be saved’. He was quite shattered by the message and sat quivering. His nearest friends saw his distress so Draco held one hand and Ginny the other, until he had recovered enough to sing the gradual hymn with the others.



John talked about judgement and forgiveness, reminding his hearers about forgiving others in order to receive forgiveness ourselves.



“Just saying sorry is not enough. There is no easy option. We have to really mean it, and be prepared to face the consequences of our wrongdoing.” John concluded.



Harry wondered how that applied to Draco’s father, but came to no firm conclusion. Then he remembered his lover, how Draco had been forgiven, when it was obvious he had turned over a new leaf. How when Harry himself had drawn them all into that terrible fight at the ministry, his friends had forgiven him



During the notices; John reminded everyone that the following Sunday would be All Saints Day and that the village bonfire, fireworks display and turnip face competition would take place on the Saturday beforehand.



“That’s Halloween,” Daphne said to the trio as they walked towards the Farmers Arms.



“I think I fancy the bonfire,” Ginny remarked. “The feast is all right, but my brothers’ fireworks will be much better. I’m going to ask David if he has any spare turnips.” Daphne nodded enthusiastically.



Draco felt Harry agreeing with her: “Harry and I’ll come too. I think the fifth-year group will attend as it’s their weekend.”



“Draco, isn’t the feast one of our required attendances at the top table?” Harry looked worried.



“Mmm … Possibly … Still we could always come over afterwards, couldn’t we?” Draco smiled cheerfully, feeling that they would get the best of both worlds.



The DS Members were split; some wanting the feast plus the entertainment in school afterwards; some wanted the village experience and some the half and half.



§§§§§§



That week the duelling club had few mishaps. Theodore was cautious and calculating; by saving his bum from being burnt he still won himself no bouts. Draco could see the pent up fury in the Slytherin and drew Harry’s attention to it. The Smiling Ones did particularly well in their extra lesson, using the mirror charm on Incarcerous and Expelliarmus with some amusing results as it was not only the opponent who became involved. They were most apologetic when they accidentally tied-up Harry. He just laughed it off, suggesting that they aim the mirror shield slightly better next time. Draco lost his wand twice, but his replies were equally good-humoured. The Smiling Ones left saying that as the strings had played for the distribution last week, so it was their turn to play this week. The Blakes mused silently about how good Hamish was at enthusing his students.



Friday night and, given the option, the fifth-years opted for the village festival. As the three village based tutors were happy to stay behind, Draco and Harry could go to the feast as was required, not feeling too guilty at being absent from Godric’s Hollow.



For the entertainment this year, Minerva had decreed a treasure hunt. Each professor had made up clues suitable for each level of learning and referring to a place in their domain. These clues were hidden in the previous professor’s place, so each clue led the participants on to the next hiding hole. Only wand use and the proper word would reveal the clue. Various shops had presented prizes, the first prize being a tolerably good broomstick. Not Firebolt or Nimbus excellence, but definitely superior to one of the school’s hack broomsticks. Honeydukes had supplied three sweet prizes and there was even a case of Butterbeer for the seventh year winner.



Consciences clear, the Blake pair became involved in supervising the chaos within the academy’s precincts, taking separate paths. They had agreed to return home and meet up at chocolate time; dependant on the hour of both entertainments finishing. They had switched off their mental antennae, in the same way they had learnt to do when teaching, so it was nearing midnight when Harry went home and realised Draco was missing. The Smiling Ones had won the Butterbeer, and had jokingly promised to share it with both of their favourite professors. So Harry wandered back to the Slytherin wall and obtained entry, expecting Draco to be there.



“Come for your drink, have you Professor?” Septimus called out, holding a new bottle of Butterbeer in his hand. “They’re quite good, but not as delicious as Winky’s home-made.”



“Thanks for the offer, Septimus. I’ll have one in a bit. I’m really looking for Draco. I can’t seem to raise him via our mind-warp, so I’m beginning to get slightly worried as he’s not at home either.”



Honorius slipped out of the room, returning a minute later looking worried. “That Nott’s disappeared. He was mumbling something about revenge being sweet. Come along friends; let’s form a search party for him. It wouldn’t be right to lose our deputy house-master in the first term, would it?”



There were some titters from the rest of the Slytherin students, but they all rose and formed small search parties, agreeing on the routes to be taken and places searched. Three minutes later, Harry was left by himself in the Slytherin common room, so he decided to go looking as well. He remembered the way into Argus’s dungeon and took that route. As he entered the low arched twisting hallways, he imagined he had a fleeting thought of ‘help’ from Draco. Then there was silence, both physical and mental, so Harry put it down to an overactive imagination tinged by worry.



He rounded a corner and something sack-like fell on top of him. Before he could react an Incarcerous was pronounced and the sack bound tightly round his upper torso. The inside of the sack smelt sickly-sweet and as he collected his thoughts to issue a counter-spell he drifted off into a semi-conscious state. When he came too he explored the inside of the sack and realised that it contained some sort of inverted mirror shield. He tried one or two less harmful spells and found that they rebounded at him. Being ready to de-activate them, no harm came to himself from his own hexes. Shifting his senses to the outside of the sack, he realised that he was now suspended above the ground by a loops round his shoulders and waist. How far above he was not quite sure; he cursed himself for not concentrating on his whereabouts instead of the interior of the mirror sack.



“Ah good … Two pansies in one flower bed,” said the unmistakeable tones of Theodore Nott, muffled slightly by the fabric of the sack.



The only reply was a frantic mumbling from a sack close to Harry, which sounded very much like his lover. He concentrated, trying to remember what Hermione had said about the structure of the mirror charm, endeavouring to bring to mind how to undo it. He was distracted when his belt was undone, flies unzipped and his lower garments removed, including his shoes and socks.



“You match for size slack, let’s see if you do the same hard.” Theodore’s fingers started to stroke Harry’s cock.



Quite soon bodily hormones took over from fear and Harry’s appendage responded to the rough caressing.



“Hmm … Good … Engorgio Penis …”



The tingle of the spell had Harry writhing in ecstasy as he felt his member expand to the size it was in the forest clearing. ‘Oh no!’ he thought, ‘not that one again?’



Watching his new prisoner, Theodore saw Harry’s prick grow shinier, trying to expand beyond the Engorgio limits. He remembered the Master’s injunction to have fun but not to draw blood. He regretted he was not privy to the spell used in the clearing, but he had been lent a special potions book.



He looked at Draco and then at Harry realising that to have their legs splayed apart would give him the best advantage. He found some extra pieces of cord. First, tying one each to Harry’s ankles, swinging him sideways to the left and securing that ankle to a pillar. The other cord was passed through the iron loop set in the floor below Draco\'s tied ankles. Theodore pulled tightly on this before releasing the binding keeping Harry’s ankles together. The result was that Harry’s legs flew apart before he could resist. Theodore used much the same procedure on Draco, but in reverse.



Harry could hear a scraping sound, too harsh to be a razor, but worrying none-the-less. It was Theodore moving a table towards the splayed and very vulnerable young men. Theodore was careful with the table as it contained a number of mini-cauldrons, each containing different coloured potions.



Harry heard his lover making sex sounds and gasping; then came a long wail, almost of anguish. Harry wondered what had happened.



He was not kept in suspense too long. He felt his ropes tightening him, stretching his muscles almost to breaking point. Next, a clamp was placed round his cock and behind his balls, followed by exciting brush strokes. Harry was making the same sex-noises that his partner had. The narrow bristled painting brush slid up the underside of his cock, almost to the glans. Now the sides of his cock were receiving the same treatment, as this happened he realised that some kind of potion was being painted on, and it was heating up his shaft almost unbearably. As the painting stopped, the itchy heat expanded to enclose his whole prick except the glans. As his first ejaculate began to move up his boner he opened his mouth to wail at the hurting excitement of cumming.



“No–no–no,” Draco cried.



“No-no-no,” Harry replied as the brush painted a stinging potion on his glans.



“Oo-oo-oo-oo-oo,” crooned Draco.



Harry followed suit as a freezing potion was applied to each ball. They contracted into firing position, causing another emission, agonising and erotic at the same time.



Next time the stinging potion was on his shaft, the heating one on his balls and the freezing one on his end, it contracted, but nevertheless, the spunk burst through. The delightful pain was unbearable, and both participants yelled out loud.



In his sack, hot with perspiration, Harry surmised one more paint job. He was correct, every bit of his shaft was sensitive and his stinging balls emptied themselves of all his reserves.



Hanging limply in their restraints two loving professors wondered what was to come next.



“Open up!” sounded in Lucius’s peremptory tones.



Both captives had their hopes of rescue fall beneath their feet.



“Yes Master, I have both birds in hand,” shouted Theodore back.



Sounds of receding footsteps and the bolts of a door being slid back came next.



“No!”



“Incarcerous!”



“No!”



“Langlock!”



“Mmm … Mmm …”



“Denudaro!”



“Mmm … Mmm … Mmm …”



“Merlin! I’ve wanted to try that one for ages.”



“Oh no! Look over there.”



“Ooh I say! What pretty colours. I wonder if it hurt.”



“Come on! Let’s cut them down, and then we’ll know who they are.”



“Finite Incatato.” That first one let the Blakes’ engorgements deflate.



“Finite Incatato!” Had the ropes fall off, and Harry fall into comforting arms.



“Finite Incatato!” The mirror sack melted away, and their mental barriers reunited.



There stood four Smiling Ones.



“Are these your clothes, Professor?” Septimus was trying not to laugh.



“Yes thank you, I am a bit weak at the moment, perhaps you could help me regain my decency.” Draco said it with so much aplomb, that all six of them burst out laughing.



“Thank you for rescuing us. Had Mr Nott continued, I expect we would have passed out and be on our way to see the Master.” Harry beamed weakly, as the final adjustments to his dress were made.



“When everyone came back, not having found you,” Septimus explained. Crass remembered trailing Nott down here, and getting into trouble with Filch when he caught him, too.”



“Mort’s a good mimic, so we thought we’d surprise Nott and see what he was doing,” added Honorius.



“Us, by the looks of things.” Draco snorted



“Why was he painting you down there?”



“The potions have different effects: itchy heat, tingling cold and stinging eroticism. They’re all dark blood-magic. I dare say if you look on his arms you’ll see scars where he cut himself.” Draco had adopted a clinical teaching approach, but it had a definite quaver of exhaustion in it.



“Come on. We can leave him here. Let’s get our best professors back to their beds, before they faint away completely,” Septimus cajoled his mates.



Each Smiling One placed a professorial arm over his neck, shuffling sideways in trios through the doors.



Daphne met them. “I’m glad you found them. We were just about to break the unwritten rule and tell the Headmistress.”



Draco smiled wanly. “Thanks Daphne ‘regulus intacta’ still pertains.”



‘What did that mean, Lover?’ Harry thought.



‘Never tell the elders what they don’t need to know,’ came back.



Daphne went back to tell the worried Slytherins that all was okay; leaving the curious group of six to struggle into the Blakes’ Hogwarts apartment. Harry was laid on the bed.



“Where’s Professor Malfoy’s bed, please?”



“This one?”



“Oh sorry! We’ll move you to your’s then. Where’s that?”



“It’s this one, too.”



“Uh?”



“So the rumours are true. Not that we hold it against you. Ooh! I say! The rumour mongers have you two paired up with Ginny and Daphne.”



“We’d rather that that second rumour was the one that was spread about. Many magic folk in high places would not even try to understand.”



“As we’re Slytherins; that would make excellent blackmail material. Not that we would, you two have been far too generous to us already. I think we’ve been infected with Gryffindor-itis.” Septimus chuckled.



“It works both ways, Septimus.” Harry giggled. “The sorting hat nearly put me into Slytherin when I arrived here.”



Ron and Hermione appeared in the doorway.



Where have you two been?” she demanded in her usual Hermione style.



“Theodore invited us to hang about with him,” was Draco’s sarcastic reply.



“Who wants to fraternise with that dolt?” Ron had his usual mystified air about him.



Hermione caught on. “Did he torture you?”



“Yes Hermione, and where we are most sensitive, too.” Harry gave a weary sigh. “However we had four smiling knights in shining armour to rescue us.”



“Well done you four. Let’s leave Harry and Draco to recover. Come outside and tell us all about it.”



“It’s all right, they know about us being together,” croaked Draco in Mordant’s ear. “We’ll have to put your mimicking to some good use. Even I thought it was my father.



Somehow Draco and Harry struggled out of most of their clothes casting them either side of their bed and comfort-hugging, went to sleep.