Chapter 5: The Chosen Eunuch

Waking up with Ginny in bed next to him had been fantastic.  She made use of his small penis one again, climaxing by grinding her clitoris into his pelvic bone.  It was easier for her if she were on top, so that's how they did it.  She kissed him afterward.  "I love you, Harry.  It doesn't matter to me that you don't have a dobber -- really it doesn't."  she said, apparently in an effort to reassure him.  Of course, he did have a dobber, just not much of one.

When Harry went to the bathroom, he found he couldn't hit the toilet with his pecker sticking straight out, so he asked Hermione to remove the Viagramus spell.  It embarrassed him to have to drop his pants in front of her again, but he had no choice.  At least, he had her teach him the spell, so he could use it himself.

"Why do you want it?"  Hermione asked.  "It's not going to make your penis any bigger, really.  It just looks bigger because it's hard."

"Just teach it too me -- all right?"

She taught it to him.  He practiced in front of her until he got it right, even though Hermione kept giggling behind her hand.  "Viagramus," and his penis stiffened.  "Impotentus," and it shrank.  Finally, having mastered the spell, he could stiffen his penis with a nonverbal command.  Other than a flash from his wand, it appeared he was doing it naturally.  At least, it stayed hard until he used the Inpotentus spell.  He could see why older wizards liked it. 

He kept the Enhacementarius spell on his penis.  One and a half inches -- as little as it was -- seemed better than one inch.  At least -- when hard -- it was two inches and could penetrate Ginny's vagina.  Without the spell, it might not have.

"Have you seen Ron?"  he asked Hermione.

"No," said Hermione.  "I haven't.  I'm worried about him.  He shouldn't have done what he did.  It wasn't right, but you and Ginny should have taken his feelings into consideration.  You know how he is."

Harry wished he had gone about it differently.  If he and Ginny had shown a little more restraint that first night -- if they hadn't stayed up all night boffing -- maybe none of this would have happened.  Maybe he would still have sixteen year old genitals rather than those of a baby; maybe he and Ron would still be friends.  Despite what Ron had done to him -- despite that it would be fourteen years before he hit puberty -- he was worried about Ron.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were sitting at the table when Hermione, Ginny, and Harry walked into the dining hall.  Mr. Weasley stood up when he saw them.  Holding a copy of the morning "Daily Prophet," he walked over to Harry, taking him by the elbow, leading him away from the others.  "Is it true, Harry?" he asked.

"Is what true?" said Harry.

Mr. Weasley showed him his copy of the Daily Prophet.  In bold headlines, it said, "Harry Potter emasculated by Death Eater."  Below, a picture of Harry.  "In Better Days," the caption said.

Below the picture, the text read, "The Chosen One, a Eunuch?  Harry Potter was emasculated last night by his friend, Ronald Weasley, who was a Death Eater in disguise.  Weasley has disappeared, although there's no evidence he's left Hogwarts.  We can only hope that, even without testicles, Harry Potter can oppose He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

Below was a discussion between wizards with a philosophical bent as to whether someone with no balls -- as they put it -- could have courage, or whether that was a false analogy.  "There have been courageous women," one argued, "and women don't have balls."

"Yes," said the other, "but men are different.  To be brave, A man has to have balls."

"But," said the first, "Harry Potter was fighting He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named before he had gone through puberty."

"Yes," countered the second, "but he had balls, even if they weren't matured."

"But, I still have balls," said Harry, looking up from the paper.  "They're just really small."

"What happened?" asked Mr. Weasley.  "Do you really think Ron is a Death Eater?  But, if he isn't, why did he attack you?"

Harry didn't see any way out of it.  He'd have to tell Mr. Weasley the truth.  Lowing his eyes -- unable to look Ginny's father in the face -- he said, "He found out that Ginny and I were making love."  At least that sounding better than saying, "He found out I was boffing his sister."

"You and Ginny?"  Arthur Weasley's face turned red, almost matching his hair.  Even the bald spot on his head turned red.  He sputtered for a moment, then seemed to calm down  "Well, I guess that was to be expected.  She is fifteen."  His eyes glazed over for a moment, as if he were thinking.  "Yes, her mother and I had done it by the time she was fifteen.  What are your intentions for my daughter, Harry?"

"I -- I love her.  I want to marry her."

"But, Harry.  You've been emasculated.  How can you be a husband to her?"

"I -- I still have...everything.  They've just regressed.  Madam Pomfrey says they'll mature -- in time."

"How much time, Harry?"

"I don't know.  Thirteen or fourteen years, I guess."

"Do you think Ginny will be willing to wait that long?"

"I think so.  I love her and she loves me.  That's what's important, not whether on not I have a mature penis."  Harry was a little embarrassed to be discussing such a personal subject with Ginny's father, but he felt he had to defend himself.  Having no viable penis was already against him.  He didn't want to add Mr. Weasley's objections as well.

"Well, I imagine that'll be up to Ginny.  I imagine her mother will discuss it with her."

"Are you going to have to tell Mrs. Weasley?"  Mrs. Weasley had always been obviously fond of Harry.  He hated to have her think poorly of him.

"Of course, I'll have to tell her.  She's Ginny's mother.  Besides, I wouldn't know how to discuss this with Ginny.  Now, about Ron.  Have you  seen him?  Do you have any idea where he might be?  Fudge, acting for the Minister of Magic, will be here soon with several aurors.  I would like to find Ron before they do.  I'm afraid they plan to put him in Azkaban."

"But, he's no Death Eater," said Harry.  "Perhaps, if I said something.  After all, I am the aggrieved party, and -- in a way -- I did bring it on myself."

"There's no excuse for what Ron did.  He violated Ministry laws.  Perhaps in calmer times, he would have been let off with probation, but now, they'll throw you in Azkaban at the drop of a hat.  I don't know," he said, his face crestfallen, "any way of keeping him out of Azkaban."

Harry really felt bad.  Even if it would take fourteen years for him to reach puberty, he didn't want his friend to be put in Azkaban.  He was determined to talk to Fudge when he arrived.

They walked over to the table where Mrs. Weasley and the girls were talking.  Harry sat down next to Ginny.  He couldn't bring him self to look at Mrs. Weasley.  "Ginny told me what happened," she said, "how you and she were..." her voice tailed off.  Then she reached over to pat Harry's hand.  She must have noticed the look on his face.  Harry wondered if it was as anguished as he felt.  "That's all right Harry.  I'm surprised the two of you waited this long.  Why, Arthur and I..."  She was interrupted by the sound of Mr. Weasley clearing his throat.  "Oh, well, she continued.  I taught the protective spell to Ginny when she had her first period.  I'm sure she's been careful."

"Mother!"  Ginny said, apparently not wanting to hear her mother talk about her periods in front of Harry.  "Of course, I've been careful."

"That's all that matters," said her mother.  "Although, I wouldn't mind having a grandchild.  Ginny tells me she plans to marry you.  Although you're awfully young, these are unsettled times.  With You-Know-Who on the loose, we have to take whatever opportunity we can for happiness."

"I love Ginny," Harry said, "but, I can't marry her.  Not yet, anyway."  The look on Ginny's face almost broke his heart, so he quickly added, "If I married her, Voldemort would come after her.  I love her so much that I can't marry her.  I can't put her in that kind of danger."

"Don't I have anything to say about it?" said Ginny.

"Not about this, Ginny.  Voldemort's killed everyone I've loved.  I don't want him to kill you, too.  That would be more than I could bear."  He saw Mr. and Mrs. Weasley wince at the sound of Voldemort's name, but then, he and Hermione were the only ones who used it openly.  Even Ginny usually said, "You-Know-Who."

"We can't even tell Fudge the real reason why Ron attacked me.  If we do, everyone will know I love Ginny.  Voldemort will know and come after her; and with Dumbledore gone, I don't know anyone who can stop him.  I can't.  I'm protected for now  -- until I'm seventeen -- but Ginny isn't.  We can't let Voldemort know she's special to me."

"You saved her when he attacked her before," Mrs. Weasley said. 

"I couldn't have without Fawkes and Griffindor's sword," said Harry -- "without Dumbledore.  I'm alone now."

"I'm going to help you," said Hermione. 

Yes, Hermione was going to help him.  Ron had said he would, but now...

He noticed Mrs. Weasley crying.  "We're forgetting about Ron," she said.  "He was wrong, doing what he did, but he always was hot-headed.  What's going to happen to him now?  Not Azkaban..."

"There, there, dear," said Mr. Weasley, patting her hand.

"I'll speak up for him," said Harry.  "They'll have to listen to me."  But he knew they wouldn't.  He'd already made an enemy of Scrimgeour, the Minister of Magic, who didn't like Arthur Weasley either.  Scrimgeour would relish putting Ron into Azkaban.

Suddenly, with a "pop," Kreacher materialized above the table in front of them, startling everyone.  Harry detested Kreacher, a house elf, but since he had inherited him from Sirius Black, he was the elf's master.  Kreacher felt the same about Harry, but was bound to him.  Kreacher had to obey Harry, however reluctantly he might carry out his instructions.

"Kreacher," said Harry.  "What are you doing here?"

"The Potter brat is to report to Professor McGonagall.  The Potter brat is in trouble.  Maybe Professor McGonagal will disapparate him and never put him together again.  Kreacher is ashamed, ashamed, ashamed, ASHAMED,"  he shouted the last, "ashamed to have a EUNUCH for a master," he said, shouting eunuch.

"I'm not a eunuch!" said Harry.  "I order you never to call me that again."

Kreacher struggled, seeming to be attempting to say it once again, but failed.  "Don't mean you aren't," he said, disappearing with another "pop."

Harry hated being called a eunuch.  He wasn't.  He still had balls.  They were small, but they would grow -- in time.  Even Mr. and Mrs. Weasley seemed to be thinking of him as a eunuch.  In a way, he guessed he was.  His desire for sex had evaporated.  Apparently, with the regression of his genitals, all sex hormones had been flushed from his body.  His underarm hair had disappeared, and in place of the dark hairs on his upper lip, he had peach fuzz.  It was as if he'd never experienced puberty. Without the Viagramus spell, he couldn't get an erection.  His pecker just hung from his groin -- well, actually, it was too short to hang -- it protruded from his groin.

Excusing himself from the table, Harry went to Professor McGonagall's office.  She, now the headmaster, had moved into Dumbledore's office.  Arriving at the portal to the spiral staircase, Harry tired the password Dumbledore had given him.  It still worked.  He entered and walked up the moving spiral staircase, stopping at the door to knock.  "Come in, Potter," he heard Professor McGonagall say. 

She had changed nothing -- although Fawkes' perch was still empty.  The office was as Dumbledore had left it, except for the portrait of Dumbledore on the wall among the other former headmasters -- dead former headmasters.  The figure in the portrait was awake this time.  It had been asleep the last time he'd been in to see Professor McGonagall.  "Hello, Harry," it said.

"Hello, Professor," Harry said, feeling a little weird talking to it.  It was a representation of Dumbledore, possessing his characteristics and memories, but it wasn't Dumbledore.  Dumbledore was dead.  After greeting Harry, Dumbledore -- of the picture -- adjusted his glasses and went back to reading.

"Come in, come in, Potter," said Professor McGonagall.  Have a seat," she said, pointing to a chair in front of her desk, the one he'd used when he'd visited Dumbledore in his office.  Professor McGonagall had never asked him to sit down before.  "Potter.  I wish you'd tell me what Professor Dumbledore was up to before he died."

"I can't, Professor.  I promised Dumbledore I wouldn't."

"But, he couldn't have anticipated his own death.  That changes everything."

"I don't think it does, Professor," said Harry.

He remembered what Dumbledore had said, "You must obey me, NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS."  Harry intended to honor that promise.  Even though he didn't know what harm it would do to tell McGonagall, he would remain true to his word.

"Well, we have other problems, don't we Potter?" said McGonagall.  Harry wasn't certain what problems she was talking about.  He definitely had problems -- below the waist, anyway -- but he didn't know if those were the ones she meant.  Turns out, that was part of it.  "What's this about your being emasculated, Potter."

"I HAVEN'T BEEN EMASCULATED!"  said Harry, tired of everyone referring to him as a eunuch.  "I still have...everything."

"Yes," said Professor McGonagall, "but...uhm," she was apparently uncomfortable discussing such things with a male student, "they're not quite right, are they?"

"Madam Pomfrey tells me they will be -- in time," said Harry.

"Yes, that's what she tells me -- in thirteen or fourteen years."

Harry looked down at the floor.  Wasn't it bad enough having the genitals of infant without everyone's wanting to talk to him about it?  He was adjusting to it the best he could, resigned to having to wait fourteen years before he had another orgasm.  At least everyone could just shut up about it.  Ginny didn't seem to mind -- or at least, she had accepted it.  She's the only would that should be concerned.  She's the one who would be giving up the pleasures of intercourse to be with him. "Why did she tell the Daily Prophet?" he asked.

"She didn't," said McGonagall.  "She had to put it in her report to the Ministry.  Someone at the Ministry reported it to the Daily Prophet."

Scrimgeour, thought Harry.  He probably did.  Since I won't be his mascot, he was probably delighted to embarrass me.  It's not so important to have the Chosen One on board, if the Chosen One is half a man -- a eunuch.

"Weasley did this to you?"

"Yes," said Harry, "but he didn't mean to."  Harry had decided to tell the Ministry that Ron had done it by accident.  He might as well start with McGonagall.

"That's not what you told Madam Pomfrey.  Ginny Weasley said her brother had done it on purpose.  I want the truth Potter.  This is no longer something that can be handled by the school.  The Ministry of Magic is involved now."

"But, I don't want them to put Ron into Azkaban.  He only did it because of what Ginny..."  He stopped.  If he went on, he'd have to admit to Professor McGonagall that he and Ginny had been having sex.  It wasn't that he was afraid he'd be kicked out of Hogwarts -- he was leaving and not coming back -- but Ginny might want to return next year -- if Hogwarts reopened.  He didn't want to sully her reputation.

"You and Ginny Weasley were having a sexual relationship?  Is that what you mean, Potter?"

"Oh, leave the boy alone," he heard the portrait of Professor Dumbledore say, "Of course they were having sex.  They're healthy young people, not old crones like you and I."

"Quiet, Albus," said McGonagall,  "I'm headmaster now.  I'll conduct this interview."  Then to Harry, she said, "I don't approve of sex between students of Hogwarts, but it's been happening since the school opened.  I don't expect there's any way of stopping it.  I'm not looking to punish you -- or Miss Weasley -- but I have to know the truth, so -- the truth -- Potter.  Tell me exactly what happened."

Harry told her that he had Ginny had been caught in the act by Ron, who had used the Infantiliamus spell on him, regressing his genitals back to the time he was a baby.

"Does it make any sense to you that he would do that, Potter?"

"Well, he was mad that I was...uh..." somehow boffing didn't seem to be a proper word to use in front of Professor McGonagall, "that Ginny and I were...uh..." with an effort he said, "having intercourse."

"Did he catch you doing it?"

"Well...in a way."  It was perhaps more difficult discussing such a subject with Professor McGonagall than with anyone he could think of.  He would rather describe the scene to Mrs. Weasley than to Professor McGonagall.  "Ginny had my...uh...my thing..." that was the most innocuous term he could think of, " in her mouth." 

He'd been right to be hesitant to tell McGonagall, because her face turned red, and she stammered, "Ah...um...I see.  That's when he used the spell?"

"Yes.  I didn't see him.  The flash from the spell blinded me, but Ginny saw him."

"Did he know it was an irreversible spell -- and did he know what it would do to you?"

"Yes.  We searched together for a counter spell -- he and Ron would have used it on Malfoy, had they found one -- "but couldn't find one; and we knew what it would do."

"Yet," said McGonagall, "he still used it on you?"

"Well, he was really mad about Ginny and me."

"I was under the impression that you and Mr. Weasley were inseparable -- closer than brothers in many ways?"

"We were --" said Harry, "until Ginny and I --"

"Do you really think that Weasley would use an irreversible spell -- one with such consequences -- on his best friend, no matter how angry he was at the time?

"Ron can be pretty hot-headed," said Harry.

"Yes, Mr. Weasley is impulsive, but I can't see his doing this to you -- unless.

"Unless what?" said Harry.

"Unless he was under an Imperious curse?"

"An Imperious curse?"  asked Harry, "but who could have done it?  Hardly anyone is here.  How about Filch?  Could it have been Filch?"

"No, Potter.  Not Filch.  I realize he is a little eccentric, but I trust Filch implicitly.  It wasn't Filch."

"Who then?" said Harry.

"I don't know," said Professor McGonagall, " and that's what worries me.  We might have a Death Eater among us."

"You don't think it's Ron, like they say, do you?"

"No, Mr. Potter.  I don't think it's Ronald Weasley.  Do you have any idea where he is?"

"No, said Harry.  "No one's seen him."

"I had Mr. Filch search the grounds," said McGonagall.  "He no longer seems to be at Hogwarts."

Ron, no longer at Hogwarts?  Harry had thought he was just hiding, possibly frightened by what he had done.  What did this mean?  Had Ron been under an Imperious curse?  That would have explained his actions. 

Ron had boffed Lavender, and he had wanted to do Hermione.  How could he expect that Harry wouldn't want to make love to Ginny, even if she were Ron's sister. 

Harry knew Ron was funny about Ginny.  He had always turned away when Harry had kissed her, but Ron had been afraid that Dean was boffing his sister, and he'd never used the Infantiliamus spell on him. 

What Professor McGonagall had said made sense.  He and Ron were mates.  Ron might be angry because Harry boffed his sister, but the Ron he knew would have never used the Infantiliamus spell on his best friend.  It was Harry's guilt that had made him think he would.

"If he's under an Imperious curse," said Harry, "he's not responsible for his actions.  They can't put him in Azkaban for it."

"That's true --" said McGonagall, "if we can prove he was under an Imperious curse.  First, we have to find him."