Chapter 6: The Cutting of the Lambs

Harry's day was just beginning.  Fudge soon arrived, flanked by two aurors.  He questioned Harry first, to be followed by the Weasleys and Hermione, bringing them individually into a room set aside for the interrogations.  "Harry, my boy," Fudge said when Harry walked into the room, "first I want to say how sorry I am about your emasculation."

This time, Harry just looked up and sighed.  What was the use explaining that he still had balls?  No one seemed to listen.  Beside, he wasn't sure he cared what Fudge thought. 

"You didn't even expect," asked Fudge, "that Weasley was a Death Eater?"

"Ron's not a Death Eater!" said Harry.

"I'm surprised you would defend him," said Fudge, "after what he did to you.  Did you ever get...uh...any before you...uh...lost everything?"

"My sex life is none of your business."

"Sorry, boy.  I was just curious.  I just can't imagine what it must be like for a boy in the prime of his life to lose his sex organs.  I'm really sorry, Harry."

"I didn't lose them," mumbled Harry.

"What was that, Harry?"

"I said, I didn't lose them.  They've just been age regressed.  They'll be back to normal -- some day."

"Um...yes...uh huh," Fudge's response indicated he didn't believe Harry.  "I'm afraid you've only been the first, Harry.  We've received reports that other boys have been castrated -- all former Hogwarts students classmates of yours, I'm afraid,  many, members of Griffindor house.  It looks like Mr. Weasley has been busy."

"Other students -- hit with the Infantiliamus spell?"  If someone was using the Infantiliamus spell, it must be Snape -- or Ron.  As far as Harry knew, the three of them were the only ones who knew it.

"Infantiliamus spell?" said Fudge..  Someone's used a modified version of Neuterus on them."

"But, that's a spell used to neuter animals," said Harry  "I didn't think it worked on humans."

"The original spell didn't," said Fudge, "but someone has changed it so it works on boys who are younger than seventeen.  Isn't that what Weasley used on you?"

Instead of answering  Fudge, Harry said, "What does the spell do?" asked Harry.

"It completely removes a boy's genitals, not even leaving a pee hole.  I understand several boys are already in the hospital here at Hogwarts awaiting treatment from Madam Pomfrey."

"In the hospital here?  Not in St. Mongo's?"  St, Mongo's was the hospital for treatment of magical maladies.

"Yes," said Fudge.  There's been an attack on St. Mongo's by Death Eaters.  We've had to close it and disperse the patients to other locations.  Hogwarts seemed the safest place to send the boys.  Madam Pomfrey has a potion to treat them.

"Is she going to be able to fix them?" asked Harry.

"You mean their genitals?  No, Harry those are gone for good -- just like yours, unfortunately.  Madam Pomfrey can only provide an opening for their urinary tracts. 

It looks like this is another tactic by You-Know-Who to destroy those opposed to him.  It's just like him to attack the children.  By neutering our boys, he's taking away our future. 

If this continues, the only males able to propagate will those aligned with He-Who-Can-Not-Be-Named.  I'm afraid you were only the first.  Weasley has been busy since he attacked you.  At least six boys have been castrated at last count

"All Griffindor boys?" said Harry, horrified that such had befallen his friends.

"Most were," said Fudge.  "Maybe some from other houses, not Slytherin, though.  So far, none from it have been attacked.

"I don't think Ron did this," said Harry.  Even if Ron was under an Imperious curse, why would he switch from using the Ifantiliamus spell -- and where would he have learned the other?

"Who else could it be?" said Fudge.  "He used the same spell on you."

"No he didn't," said Harry.  He used a different spell on me.  I still have genitals."

"Oh," said Fudge, "but Madam Pomfrey said you had been emasculated."

"Only in a way," said Harry.  "My genitals have been age regressed.  I still have them, but they' only as big as they were when I was a baby."

"I think we need to see," said Fudge.  "I'll have to ask you to drop your pants."

Thinking, What the hell, everyone else -- except for the Weasleys and McGonagall -- had seen them anyway, Harry dropped his pants, exposing his crotch to Fudge and the two aurors.

"Um..." said Fudge, "They are quite small, aren't they.  You think they'll grow, do you?"

Madam Pomfrey says they will.  She says there's nothing wrong with them.  They're just young, that's all."  He pulled up his pants now that Fudge's curiosity was satisfied.  "You see, I'm not really a eunuch."

"No," said Fudge -- neither of the two aurors had spoken.  They had stared at Harry's crotch, but neither had said anything -- "It appears you've been luckier than the other boys.  So, the spell Weasley used on you was different than the one he's using on the other boys?"

"It's not Ron," said Harry.  "He's not a Death Eater.  He might be under an Imperious curse, but I don't think he's the one castrating those boys.  Even under an imperious curse, I don't think Ron would do that."

"What about what he did to you?"

"He didn't castrate me.  Mine will -- in time -- be back to normal.  Has any of the boys said it was Ron?"

"We haven't had time to interview any of them yet," said Fudge.

"You said some were here at Hogwarts in the hospital wing.  Let's go see them.  Let's ask them who did it to them.

"All in good time, my boy," said Fudge.  "All in good time."

"Then, I'm through," said Harry.  "I'll go ask them myself."  Turning, he walked from the room, ignoring Fudge's insistence that the interview wasn't over.  At least, Fudge didn't send the aurors after him.

When he arrived at the hospital wing, he saw that many of the beds were occupied -- all by boys.  Most were asleep.  Apparently Madam Pomfrey had given them a potion to so they would rest.  Harry imagined that losing their genitals had been a traumatic experience.  Having his changed, certainly had been.

A small, naked, blond haired boy was standing in a tub beside a bed with his back to Harry.  His legs were apart; and Madam Pomfrey was applying a potion to the nether portion of his crotch.  "Stand still, Mr. Creevey," said Madam Pomfrey, "and move your hands."

The boy was hopping from one foot to the other and kept placing first one hand, then the other, on his crotch, interfering with Madam Pomfrey's attempt to apply the potion.  "I can't," said the boy.  "I need to pee.  I need to pee real bad."

Harry recognized the boy.  He was Colin Creevey, a student a year behind him.  Colin had made a nuisance of himself ever since he'd arrived at Hogwarts, pestering Harry to the point of stalking him. 

It had seemed that, every time Harry had turned around, Colin had been there, snapping his picture, blinding him with the camera's flash.  The boy worshipped Harry.

"It'll just take a moment,  Mr. Creevey," said Madam Pomfrey.  "The potion works quickly."

Poor Colin, thought Harry.  Had they attacked him because he was a mudblood, the son of two muggles? 

He was the first wizard in his family.  His younger brother, Dennis -- a couple of years younger and smaller for his age than even Colin, was also a wizard, but it appeared he would be the last. 

He, too, was in the hospital, asleep in the bed next to Colin.  Apparently, he'd already been treated.  A sheet was pulled up around his shoulders. 

Harry assumed he'd been castrated, too.  Colin obviously had -- even though Harry hadn't yet seen him from the front.  Madam Pomfrey was applying a potion to make him a new pee hole.

Suddenly -- the potion must have taken effect -- a golden stream of urine gushed from between Colin's legs, flowing down into the tub, splashing all over his legs. 

The boy sighed  -- apparently in relief.  He must have been holding it for hours.  Then he wailed, "Oh, look.  I wet myself all over."   He began crying.

"There, there," said Madam Pomfrey.  "You'll learn how to pee without wetting yourself.  You'll see.   You'll just have to pee sitting down like girls do."

"Like a girl," said Colin, wailing even louder.  What will Harry Potter think of me if I have to pee like a girl?" 

Colin had seemed to always need to pee when Harry did, following him into the bathroom, standing at the urinal next to Harry, trying -- Harry thought -- to sneak a peak at his willie.  He might not have, but Harry had always turned a little sideways away from Colin to prevent him from seeing it.

"I won't think badly of you, Colin,"  said Harry from behind him. 

Turning around quickly, Colin almost tripped on the tub.  When he saw Harry, he turned red from head to toe, as he quickly placed his hands on his crotch, bending over almost double at the same time, trying to cover himself so Harry couldn't see.

"Harry!  Oh," he said, crying even harder.  "Don't look at me."

"Colin...didn't you know?"  said Harry,  "The same thing happened to me,"  

It hadn't, but Harry didn't think this was the time to quibble about the difference between having an infant's pecker and having none at all. 

Maybe Colin would feel better, if he thought he weren't alone.  From the full beds in the hospital wing, he must know he wasn't, but perhaps he would feel better knowing Harry's condition was similar.

"You, too?" said Colin, the look on his face changing from mortification to curiosity.

"Didn't you see the story about me in the Daily Prophet?  I thought everyone had read the story about my emasculation." 

Harry thought he was the one who had the right to be mortified.  He was certain only few people knew that Colin had been castrated.  Everyone in the magical community thought he had.

"No," said Colin, standing up a little straighter, although his hands still covered his crotch.  Harry could see a wisp of blond pubic hair beneath them.  "My parents are muggles.  We don't get the Daily Prophet."

"Tears began streaming down his face again.  "My parents, Harry.  A Death Eater killed them.  My mum and dad are dead. 

There was nothing they could do against the Death Eater -- and I couldn't save them.  My wand was locked away in my trunk.  He killed my parents and I couldn't do anything to stop him.  Why hadn't I kept my wand with me?"

Recounting what had happened to his parents, Colin forgot about his empty crotch, raising his hands to wipe away his tears. 

Harry couldn't help but stare.  Other than a light dusting of blond pubic hair -- a small patch above the V of his groin, Colin was smooth from his navel to the bottom of his crotch.

  Smoother than even a girl.  Harry, having closely examined Ginny's crotch, was aware of the difference. 

Her vagina formed a distinctive fold in her crotch, the lips of it protruding.  Colin was completely smooth. 

It was as if he'd never had a penis or testicles.  No-- smooth as he was -- he couldn't be mistaken for a girl.  He was something different.  Not a boy or girl, he was sexless -- a eunuch, a neuter. 

Would people still call Colin and the others boy?  And if they did, would they just be doing it out of courtesy, to keep from hurting their feelings?  Didn't a boy have to have a penis to be a boy?  Wasn't that the determining factor? 

Harry sometimes wondered what he was.  Without the hormones his balls had produced, he no longer felt the same. 

In many ways, he no longer felt like a boy.  He was never turned on anymore, not even by Ginny.  After two years of puberty he'd come to expect to be sexually excited.  Now he wasn't -- ever.

After puberty -- that's when Harry had really begun to feel like a boy.  That's when he'd begun to notice girls, to realize the differences between the sexes -- to become interested in certain parts of a girl's anatomy, to notice that some had breasts -- to be curious about what was between their legs.

That, too, was when his penis had become something more than a convenient object to use to pee. 

That's when he'd come to realize it could actually be an instrument of pleasure, an instrument he'd learned to play -- with some instruction from Ron.-- using it to conduct a symphony of pleasure, as he stoked it, feeling the tempo increase, the change in timbre transporting him, until, with a crescendo of ecstasy, he had an orgasm.

He remembered the first time as it had been yesterday.  Did anyone ever forget that first time -- the first time ropes of come spurted from his pole, shooting out as he thrust out his hips with each squirt? 

Harry never would; but memories of orgasms were all he had now.  No matter how much Ginny attempted to stimulate him, nothing happened, not even a twinge in his groin.

Would it be the same for Colin, he wondered?  Although -- from the hair on his crotch -- he must have attained puberty, Harry doubted Colin had ever masturbated.  With only a wisp of hair on his crotch, he must have recently entered puberty; and because he had always seemed immature, Harry doubted any other of the boys had told him about masturbation. 

Colin had made such a nuisance of himself -- fawning over Harry -- he had few friends.  He had seemed to want only one -- Harry.

"My mum and dad, Harry," Colin was saying.  They're dead.  I saw them die, and I couldn't do anything to stop it."  A waterfall of tears, running down his face, streamed from his chin.

Harry hadn't really liked Colin.  He had been too much of a nuisance, pestering him all the time; but his heart went out to the boy. 

Stepping up to him, he reached out to him, pulling Colin toward him, helping him from the tub, holding him tightly in a hug.  "Voldemort killed my parents, too, Colin.  Now, we're both the same.  We're both orphans."

Colin sniffed.  His sobs subsided somewhat.  "We're the same, Harry?  I'm just like you?"

"Yes, Colin," Harry said.  "You're just like me."

That seemed to help.  It seemed to ease Colin's pain.

Madam Pomfrey came back with a potion for Colin.  "Here," she said.  "It'll help you sleep.  You'll feel better when you awake."

He drank it, then she handed him a washcloth and a towel.  "Clean yourself up, then climb into bed," she said.

"Harry took the washcloth and towel from Madam Pomfrey.  "Here," he said.  "I'll help."  He wiped the urine off Colin with the washcloth, taking the opportunity to examine the boy's groin as he did. 

As he'd noticed before, it was smooth, except for the wisp of blond pubic hair.  A small hole opened, below where his balls had been -- between his legs.  At least Harry could still pee standing.  Colin couldn't without wetting himself.

He dried Colin off with the towel and helped him into bed.  Since the potion was already taking effect, the boy yawned, rubbing his eyes.  When Harry pulled the sheet up to his chin, he asked, "You'll come back to see me, won't you, Harry?" 

"Of course I will, Colin."

"You promise?"

"I promise.  Besides, you'll be joining me up in the dorm soon."

"Can I sleep next to you?" asked Colin.

"I -- I," but the boy, falling asleep, was snoring -- soft almost inaudible snores.  Harry looked at him for a moment, then -- for some inexplicable reason -- kissed Colin's forehead. 

It was the first time he'd ever kissed a boy, but it wasn't like kissing Ginny.  This had been a kiss of compassion. 

After leaving Colin's bed, Harry went to the next one, where Colin's brother, Dennis was lying.  Had he been neutered as well? 

Needing to satisfy his curiosity, Harry pulled down his sheet.  Since the boy was asleep, he would never know Harry had looked.

Dennis' crotch was bare, too, smoother than Colin's since, he hadn't yet hit puberty, even though he was thirteen, confirming in Harry's mind that boys in that family were late bloomers. 

He didn't have the sprinkling of hair Colin did.  Prepubescent, he looked younger than he was -- and he always would be prepubescent.

Damn, thought Harry.  He'd forgotten to ask Colin who had attacked him.  He'd said a Death Eater, but he hadn't named him.  It was too late.  He was asleep, as were all the other boys. 

Looking over the sleeping boys, he recognized all of them.  In one bed, lay Neville Longbottom, his face pale and slack-jawed.  Poor Neville.  It didn't surprise Harry.  He always got the worst of it.  Harry would have been surprised if he had escaped castration.

So many of the boys were his friends, Seamus Flinnigan, Ernie MacMillan from Hufflepuff, and two members of his Quidditch team, Jimmy Peakes and Richie Coote. 

It was as if they were choosing those closest to Harry.  Since their homes were no longer safe, Harry had heard they would be staying at Hogwarts for a time.

But he and the Weasleys were leaving the next day -- or would they?  Would they leave Hogwarts with Ron missing?  Harry didn't want to.  He doubted the Weasleys would either.

But, if the Griffindor dorm was again full of boys, where would he and Ginny sleep?  She couldn't very well sleep in the boys' dorm if it were full of boys, could she? 

And, although Hermione was the only one in the girls' dorm, he couldn't make love to Ginny with Hermione in the same room.  Besides, there was a spell on the girls' dorm that kept boys out.  No one had ever seen the need to put such a spell on the boys' dorm.

With school out, there was no noon meal, so Harry stopped by the kitchen for a sandwich, taking it with him to the Griffindor common room, hoping to find Ginny, but he didn't. 

At least -- if they stayed at Hogwarts -- with all the boys who had arrived -- it wouldn't be such a lonely place; but he would have to give up the privacy he and Ginny had enjoyed.

What would it be like at Hogwarts with a bunch of boys who had been neutered?  How different would it be?  Would they all be depressed because they'd lost their masculinity? 

Harry was at times, and he knew he would someday regain his.  They never would.  Of course, with Voldemort after him, he might not live long enough for his to grow back.

Harry had at least known love.  He had known the pleasures of intercourse.  How many of those others in the hospital had? 

He was fairly confident Ernie had, and probably Jimmy Peake, a third year student.  Neville -- certainly not; and of course not Colin and Dennis.  Ritchie Coote, he had no idea about, one way or the other.