Harry Potter and the Knife of Klingsor, Part 18

Harry awoke just as the sun was going down. The long, yellow rays spilled in through Seamus’ west window and fell upon his angelic face, warming it and waking him. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, unsure of where he was. He squinted, blinking, and fumbled for his glasses on the nightstand. He put them on, and it all immediately came crashing in on him once more.

All of his friends were dead.

He was all alone in a strange house.

The boy whom he loved was dead.

He’d just been paid a visit by a Time-tripping older version of himself, and he’d NOT liked the way in which his life had turned out since the battle for Seamus Finnegan.

And he was all alone in the bed which belonged to the boy that he loved.

Harry Potter, however, did not cry this time.

He was too angry to cry.

He threw back the blanket and stood up, naked except for the Time-Turner locked about his neck and his erroneous watch, and slammed one fist into his open palm with a loud SMACK! sound. He went to the desk, picked up his cracked Wand, and aimed it down at his dirty shoes and socks. He kicked his boxers over them as well, and fired a Cleaning Charm at them. Dirt and dust flew off of them, and when Harry picked them up to dress, they were clean and warm and as good as new. He paused only long enough to touch his once again erect and uncut cock, gasping.

“I don’t have time for this now,” he mumbled, yanking his shorts up and pulling on his socks. He used an Engorgement Charm on the black cargo shorts and a T-shirt, which he Charmed into turning black as well. He then looked in the closet, found a hooded sweatshirt of maroon, and zapped it black, too. He finished with his sneakers, and, dressed all in black, went down to the kitchen to find some food.

“Seamus was taken yesterday. Darby went to Ron’s last night. It’s evening, which means we left the Burrow this morning. We should be at the Kearnys’ now, which means that …”

Harry thought it over for a bit, and then bit his lip. It helped to talk it out, as Time travel confused him a bit.

“We spent the day there, spent the night … bad dreams, Darby woke up … and…”

Harry’s face suddenly went red and he grew very warm when he realized that Darby hadn’t been the only one who had … or would be having … problems sleeping that night. He grinned, rooting about in the pantry for something to eat.

“Ron’s going to fuck me up the arse tonight, late,” Harry mused, feeling his cock becoming erect again and shivering. “THA’S IT!”

“What’s IT, dear?” The mirror over the sink asked.

“Darby will get up, sleepwalking, and Mrs. Finnegan will give him a Potion. Ron will show me how to … er ... well, anyway, we’ll both be up late, too. I can spike the Potion with the Elixir of Life, and get Ron to take some too! I think we got up to pee sometime in the night, I got a drink, I think … or was it the water pitcher on the nightstand?”

Then Harry stopped, touching The Stone in his pocket. “But how do I get the Elixir OUT of it?!”

“How do you get juice out of an orange?” The mirror replied, snickering.

“I squeeze it?” Harry guessed.

“There’s hope for the boy, yet,” the mirror said, almost giggling.

“Thanks,” Harry muttered dryly.

Harry fixed himself a bowl of stew, which he’d found in a blue glass-canning jar in the pantry. He ate slowly, watching the sky turn orange and red, then orange and purple. Finally, he saw the first evening stars coming out through the huge windowpane. Very carefully, he took out The Stone and held it over his drinking glass.

“This HAS to work,” he breathed, squeezing at the red Stone and hoping that it wouldn’t cut his hand. “Please work,” he implored of The Stone.

Harry immediately discovered, that for a stone, The Sorcerer’s Stone was not hard at all as he squeezed it. It seemed to give a bit, and a trickle of what looked like pale blood began to ooze from between his fingers and drip into the glass. “I only want enough for four boys,” he said aloud, watching the Elixir of Life drip into his glass. “I only need enough to make them immortal for a couple of nights. Just enough to survive a few Avada Kedarva Curses each. Just enough to fuck up Voldemort for ONE more night.”

The Stone seemed to jump in his hand, and it rapidly filled the glass to almost brimming. Harry gasped. Then it stopped, seemingly hardening again, as the dripping ceased.

“Thanks,” he told The Stone, which seemed to glow in response. He then wiped it off, unconsciously licked his fingers, and put it back in his pocket. He then found three other glasses just like his, and divided the Elixir into four equal parts. He then discovered that he had a problem. How was he going to carry it without spilling it?

He thought about it for the better part of an hour, as the house grew dark. He lit some lamps and sat at the table, chewing on the tip of his Wand. “I need some little bottles,” he complained, “Something with a cork in it.”

“Make some,” the mirror suggested in a familiar voice.

“Yea, but I suck at Transfigurations,” Harry confessed, raising an eyebrow and wondering. “I can do this,” he finally said, fetching another matching glass and concentrating hard on it. He tapped it with his Wand, and it changed into a small glass bottle with a cork. It was perfect! He then filled it with one fourth of the Elixir, Transfigured the empty glass, and filled it with the Elixir from the next. He soon had three bottles, corked, and one glass of Elixir left. “Might as well,” he mumbled, and drank it down in one gulp.

A strange, warm sensation began to fill him, starting in his tummy and spreading from the inside out. Even the tip of his nose tingled, and Harry suddenly felt more alive and powerful than he had ever felt before! The dull ache in his leg and lightning bolt scar subsided, and he felt as if he were about to burst. He then stood up, stuffed the three bottles into his other pocket, and burped loudly.

“Excuse you,” the mirror said.

Harry ignored it, remembering that he had a Floo-call to make. It would be a few more hours before he could go to the Kearnys’ to spike some late night drinks, and he wanted to be sure that there were NO holes in his plans. He crept into the parlor, flinching as some candles Magically lit up for him, and sat down in front of the fireplace.

”Incendio,” he whispered, aiming his cracked Wand at the logs, which burst into flames. He then tossed in a handful of Floo powder from a small bag off of the mantle he’d found. The flames turned bright green and Harry was just about to make his call when he realized that he’d never Floo’d anyone before. He wasn’t sure if it was like Floo travel or not. He cleared his throat and said, “Er, um, Directory Assistance?”

Instantly, a young woman nibbling at the tip of a quill appeared in the Floo. She had horn-rimmed specs on and a garish job of makeup, along with a beehive style hairdo. “Aye, hun, who’ja needin’?” She asked in a nasal voice, munching at her chewing gum and popping it. Harry found it very annoying.

“Rubeus Hagrid, at Hogwart’s School, the Gamekeeper?” Harry choked, not sure of what to make of her.

“Haggy!” The overly made-up woman chirped, smiling and dropping her nail file, “I ain’t seen Haggy in ages! One moment please,” she said, turning her head and seemingly doing something with her free hand. Harry assumed she was waving a Wand or firing another Floo.

“I ‘av a collect call fer ya, Haggy,” she squeaked in a VERY annoying voice, “Will ya ‘cept the charges?”

“Well who IS it, Norma?” Harry heard Hagrid’s familiar voice reply. Hagrid sounded irritable.

“Dudley Dursley,” Harry lied in a loud voice.

“Blimey, Har-uh, er, Dudley!” Hagrid bellowed, his huge bushy face suddenly filling the Floo and knocking the ditzy Norma out of his way. “Where in hell ‘r ya? ‘R ya a’right?”

“I’m fine,” Harry lied, his stomach twisting in guilt. Then he looked away. “Hagrid, have you got a moment? I really need to … talk … about something, an’ … an’,”

But Hagrid was leaning in closer, almost seeming to come out of the green flames. Harry jumped up and back just in time as the huge man burst forth from the Floo, scattering soot and ashes all over. He took one look at Harry’s bewildered face and swept the boy up in his arms, hugging him so tightly that his recently mended ribs threatened to break all over again. “Gods, ‘Arry, where are we at? Where‘ve YOU been? Where’s Ron and the others? There’s enough gold in rewards on yer heads now to buy Hogwart’s, ya know!”

Harry, however, couldn’t find his voice. He didn’t cry, but he couldn’t talk either. He simply clung to Hagrid as a drowning man clutches a life preserver, shaking and making strangled sounds as the prospect of revealing to Hagrid the enormity of what he’d done paralyzed him with guilt and fear.

Hagrid held him out at arm’s length then, and shook him gently. “Get a’hold’a yerself, ‘Arry,” he growled sternly, “I’d hate to ‘av to slap yeh.”

“OK,” Harry squeaked, genuinely believing that he’d do it.

“Tha’s better,” the huge man said in a gentler tone, pulling him close again. “Now, as I wuz sayin’, wha’s goin’ on? Every Magical person and critter in all of Europe is out lookin’ fer ya’s!”

“Hagrid,” Harry breathed, as the near-giant man rubbed his back with one hand and held him up with the other, “I’ve done something … monstrous. I ‘av to undo it, but … but … I’m afraid of what I have do. I hav’ta … somehow … an’ there’s really only one way, and you…,”

“Slow down, now,” Hagrid said, “Which way to the kitchen?” Harry told him that, and Hagrid carried him there, plunking him down on a chair and rooting about in the pantry. He mixed a Potion of some kind, and made Harry drink it. “Nerves,” he told the boy, once he’d finished it off, with only minor objections. Then he watched as Harry relaxed a bit.

Very suddenly, he wanted to talk. He wanted to tell Hagrid everything, beginning with how he’d first really noticed Seamus and how he’d felt when Madame Pomfrey had cleaned him out. He went on and on, and Hagrid’s ears began to turn pink. Harry covered everything from whacking off, to his views on circumcision, cheating on a Potions exam, and his thoughts about eunuchs and the Ministry of Magic cover-ups. He even went as far as to confess to having put a Purgative Potion in Mrs. Norris’ cat food, along with Ron, Neville and Dean.

“I shouldn’t’a mixed it so strong,” Hagrid mused, grinning beneath his bushy black beard as Harry confessed to the sinful pleasures he’d taken with Ron of late. “I did NOT want ter know THAT! Ol’ Filch cleaned cat shit outta his office fer a week! And Ron! Blimey, ‘Arry?!”

But then Harry’s mad, uncontrollable confessions began to turn darker. He told Hagrid about the trip to Diagon Alley, Darby, what he’d done with his POD account on his Vault at Gringotts’, Grimaldi’s take on castrati, and Ollivander’s story about the Wands. He only seemed to get a grip on his runaway tongue when he came to the part about finding Seamus, when Hagrid began to growl in anger.

“Damn Malfoy, should’a knowed,” he said in a dangerous tone. “Should’a guessed he was up ter no good when ‘e brought Draco ter Hogwart’s an’ used the Library, leavin’ me ‘n Poppy ter see ter his half-dead son.”

“They were at Hogwart’s?” Harry asked, amazed.

“O’er the summer,” Hagrid explained. “Showed up wit Draco, an’ the boy wuz bad sick. Lucius spent his whole time in the Library, diggin’ in the Restricted Section. Up ter no good, I bet. But the boy, found out he’d been … oh hell, since ya know ‘bout Seamus anyways … Draco Malfoy’s a eunuch, Harry. Cahn’t prove it, but someone castrated him an’ it were prob’ly his dad.”

Harry let that slide, since he already knew. From his perspective, Draco Malfoy was already dead anyway.

Hagrid filled Harry in on the details about the Malfoys’ visit to Hogwart’s, and their sudden departure. Harry nodded knowingly, suddenly wanting to talk again.

“They took Seamus,” Harry said, as Hagrid’s jaw dropped. “Malfoy is in with Voldemort (Hagrid flinched at the name), and they took Seamus to try and use his Wild Eunuch Powers to resurrect the Dark Lord. Lucius Malfoy castrated Draco, Seamus said, to try and make him a Wild Power Wizard, too. I don’ think it worked, though.”

“Seamus said? Where is he?” Hagrid barked.

Harry sighed, biting his lip. “Right NOW, he’s with the Malfoys. They’re headed for a cemetery about two hours, maybe three, outside of Waterville, Ireland. Here. Voldemort wants to possess him, like he did Professor Quirrell!”

“We’re on the fer side ‘o Ireland?” Hagrid gasped, looking about in amazement. “This is Seamus’ house?”

Harry nodded. “His folks are gone, at the neighbors. Just down the road are the Kearnys, they’re Magical Folk too, and tha’s where they are. Tha’s where Ron and Darby are, too. Hagrid, you cahnt’ tell. Not yet. I have something else to tell you.”

Hagrid looked confused, though, as the things that Harry had told him failed to add up. “You saw Seamus. But the Malfoys have him, an’ ya dint bat an eye when I told yeh that Draco wuz a eunuch a’ready, but ya dint know they’d been to Hogwart’s. Ya know where everyone is, yet yer here all alone. And You-Know-Who is in on it, too? A’right, I’m ready, ‘Arry. Hit me. This oughtta be a good’un, knowin’ you.” Hagrid sighed, pulling up a chair the almost vanished beneath him.

Harry got up and began to pace. He limped a bit, and rubbed at his forehead in consternation. How was he going to say it?

“Wha’s wrong wit’ yer leg and head, ‘Arry?” Hagrid asked, then his eyes went wide as Harry pushed his long black bangs aside. The scar was obviously redder and larger, deeper than Hagrid recalled, and he’d seen plenty of it. “Oh dear, yer scar!” Hagrid breathed. Then he took on an angry look. “You been, hurt, ‘Arry? Who did it?!” He demanded in a dangerous tone.

“Voldemort,” Harry replied, and Rubeus Hagrid nearly fell off of his chair.

“No!”

“Yes,” Harry groaned, letting Hagrid take him on his lap and hold him again. His touch was warm and gentle for one so large, and Harry began to imagine his older self’s tale of spending every night with him in his cabin. At that very moment, it didn’t seem like a bad idea.

“He tried to kill me again,” Harry whispered.

And then Harry told Hagrid the whole tale, picking up with their departure from Diagon Alley and stopping just short of describing the battle in the cemetery. He had to pause for breath and a drink of water then. Once he’d collected himself, Harry told his friend the rest of the story, pausing at the point where Seamus had begun calling down lightning bolts as Hagrid’s jaw hung open in disbelief.

“H-hag-gr-rid,” he stammered then, unsure if he wanted to cry or to destroy something and finding himself almost unable to talk, “Th-they’re all d-d-dead. I k-k-killed them all. I w-wasn’t strong enough. S-sh-seamus, ‘e took on V-v-voldemort an’ … he killed them all, Hagrid! Voldemort killed all my friends to get at me!” Harry said in hardly more than a whisper.

The tears, however, did not come. Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, was beyond crying.

Hagrid sat staring at him, unable to fathom it. A long pause followed, and finally the huge man asked, “How can they be dead if’n they’re with the Kearnys and the Malfoys has Seamus?”

Then Harry reached inside of his black shirt and pulled out the Time-Turner. He held it up, and it sparkled in the candlelight. Hagrid recognized it, his black eyes going very, very wide.

“BLOODY HELL! WHERE DID’JA GET THAT AT?!” He shouted, very nearly dropping Harry as he jumped up. “Those ‘r illegal! Ya cain’t ‘av that, ‘Arry, unless you’re … you’re a real high-up Ministry ‘o Magic fella, but … You’re not MY Harry, ‘r ya? Yer a Harry Potter that hasn’t come to be yet!”

The boy nodded and slid down out of his arms. “After tomorrow night, when Malfoy and Voldemort kill all of my friends, I’ll live for almost 200 years. I’ll flunk my Second Years, be a cripple, but eventually I’ll get a very powerful job somewhere, at Hogwart’s I think. I came back, Hagrid. I came back to find ME and give myself another chance to set it right. But I need your help. Maybe, if we do it right, then I won’t ever exist.”

Stunned, Hagrid only nodded. “I’m list’nin’,” he replied, “Go on.”

“Right before we found Seamus, the Malfoys and Voldemort, I heard a sound while I was out flying. I thought I knew that sound. I saw three people flying over Ireland, here, tomorrow night, near Midnight. Two of them were on Broomsticks, but one was so big he blotted out the moon. I think it was you, Hagrid, on the flyin’ motorbike. Was it? Because if it was, I’m going to need your help very soon.”

Hagrid nodded. “Been out lookin’ fer YOU every night,” he growled, but smiled, holding his arms out again and taking Harry in them once more. “And Ireland was NEXT on the list. I don’t care WHEN you came from, you’re still ‘Harry’,” he said comfortingly, tussling Harry’s wild black hair and kissing his cheek.

“’Just Harry?’” Harry asked, repeating his words he’d said when Hagrid had told him for the very first time that he was a Wizard.

“You’ve never been ‘just Harry’,” Hagrid replied warmly, shifting the boy on his over-sized lap and squeezing him. Then he flinched. “Ya got enough stuff crammed in yer pockets, er what? Wha’s pokin’ me?”

Harry flushed, and pulled out The Sorcerer’s Stone. Hagrid’s face blanched.

“I don’ wanna know,” he said flatly. “You shouldn’t’a showed me that. You should NOT have showed me that!”

“There’s one more thing I need Hagrid,” Harry said, swallowing hard, having made up his mind. “You remember the nightmare I told you I had?”

“Ya mean the one where I castr…er…hurt ya, onstage in the Great Hall? With the … The Knife?” He asked slyly, as if someone would hear him.

Harry nodded.

“I’d never hurt you, Harry,” Hagrid promised.

The boy looked away, and swallowed hard with an audible GULP sound again. He had to ask. It was the only way.

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to, Hagrid. I cahn’t go to anyone else, and YOU have The Knife of Klingsor in your kitchen.”

Hagrid cleared his throat, obviously shocked at Harry’s request.

“I kin understand WHY you would want to, ‘Arry, after all, seeing all yer friends die and thinkin’ you need more Power an’ all, but, oh dammit, Harry – the ruddy Knife’s been stolen. I think Malfoy took it. After they left, I went to cut up a summer sausage an’ it wuz gone!”

Harry’s face blanched this time. “G-gone?! But, but why would HE take it? Did he use it on Draco?”

“No,” Hagrid replied, “Draco was a eunuch before they came to Hogwart’s this summer. I dunno ‘ow he did it ter ‘im, but he dint use The Knife of Klingsor on Draco.” Then Hagrid paused. “It ain’t the same if’n ya don’ use The Knife of Klingsor. Works, but not right. These nightmares ‘r getting to ya, Harry, I think. Jus’ because yer buddy Seamus is a Eunuch Wizard an’ all don’ mean that you …”

“Yes it does!” Harry interrupted in an uncharacteristic heat. “I got them all killed, Hagrid! Seamus took the Curse that would have killed me, because HE was strong enough and he knew it. In the end, HE took on Voldemort, not ME!

“I’m not strong enough, Hagrid. If I’m to save them, if they’re to live, then I have to be stronger. I have to be the one who takes down Voldemort at the end, not Seamus! If I ‘av to…if it costs me…bloody hell, Hagrid,” Harry swore in a tone that the huge man had never heard him use before and made his ears turn pink, “If’n it costs me my cock ‘n balls, so be it!

“I’d rather be a eunuch with my friends, with the boy I love, than be a miserable old man who spends 200 years all alone and unloved and thinking about how bad his life is! He said it was bad enough to risk going to Azkaban when he got back, Hagrid, but he did it anyway.”

Hagrid’s jaw dropped again.

For a long time, neither one said a thing. The big old house was quiet as Hagrid held Harry, finally getting up to carry him back to the parlor. Hagrid borrowed Harry’s Wand and used an Engorgement Charm on a rocking chair, so that it would accommodate him. They sat together in front of the fireplace as it grew late, rocking and staring into the dancing flames. Harry simply let himself be held, taking what comfort he could in it. He wondered if Seamus’ father had ever held him, rocking him in that same chair in front of a warm fire. Surely he had. To Harry, it was perfect.

I wonder what it’s like to grow up with a loving family? He thought, thinking of the Dursleys and how they despised him so, while at the same time showering their own son Dudley with affection.

Hagrid finally broke the silence after a while.

“Yer awful tight,” he told Harry, massaging his shoulders while Harry sighed in contentment. Having been raised with basically no affection at all from the Dursleys, Harry found that he enjoyed being touched. It filled some deep need within him that he didn’t understand, but didn’t object to either.

He groaned in contentment as Hagrid’s hands moved down his back, wincing a bit as he touched his ribcage.

“You got banged up bad, dint’cha?” Hagrid asked in a hurt voice.

“Real bad.”

Hagrid sighed heavily. “I wish I knew what ter do, ‘Arry. It’s yer choice, of course, to get cut er not, but The Knife is gone. An’ any ol’ Knife won’t do the trick. It has ter be THAT Knife.”

“I know,” Harry replied, thinking hard, “I had another dream about it.” He told Hagrid about it, too.

“Odd dreams, boy. Almost seems like that Knife is TRYIN’ to get to you,” Hagrid mused. “They say it’s drawn ter boys like you, boys who want Power.”

“I don’t WANT it, Hagrid. I wish I dint have to, but I DO. There’s no other way I can take on Malfoy and Voldemort at once and fix this mess I’ve made.”

“Slick one, that Malfoy,” Hagrid mused, “No one kin find ‘em. Hid good, he did. Musta planned this fer a long, long time.”

“I think he took The Knife so that no one else could get it,” Harry reasoned, “So there would be no more ‘good’ Eunuch Wizards, or maybe only Dark ones from now on. Maybe he just made Draco look like a eunuch, and he was going to cut him later when he’d gotten The Knife? Or maybe some other Slytherin boy, or more. It could be bad, Hagrid. A whole platoon of Eunuch Slytherin Wizards, all Bad?” Harry cringed at the thought.

Hagrid nodded. “At least they couldn’t breed then. So what do we do about yer castration, then? Since yer so dead set to get it done.”

Harry fingered the Time-Turner and shook his head. “I’ve got work to do tonight, Hagrid. You don’t happen to recall castrating me earlier this year, do you?”

Hagrid poked him in the crotch, and Harry yelped. It didn’t hurt, but it surprised him as the huge man poked him in the privates. “Obviously not,” Hagrid replied. “But I do have an open mind, ya know. Why don’t’cha spin that thing one more time after you’re done here tonight an’ come see me, oh, a few days after school lets outta First Year? I seem ter recall havin’ a really slow coupla weeks there, and I think we can keep Madam Pomfrey on the sly to patch yeh up afterwards. MIND, now, I won’t touch ya! I won’t cut ya, ‘Arry. I’ll be there ter help clean ya up, but I won’t DO it to ya!

“YOU wanna be a Eunuch Wizard, then you’re gonta ‘av ter do what the first ever Ravenclaw boy did almost 1,000 years ago. Yer gonta ‘av ter do it yerself.” Hagrid sighed with a note of finality.

Harry grinned at him and nodded, looking out the window longingly. “It’s almost time,” he said, as Hagrid shook his head in disbelief.

“I cahn’t believe yer a’doin’ this, ‘Arry,” he grumbled, but then he seemed to realize something. “I’ll be lookin’ fer a sign from you tomorrow night, MY tomorrow night, that is, when I fly over.”

“One more favor?” Harry asked, raising his eyebrows.

Hagrid nodded.

“Can you Floo by The Burrow and get my Invisibility Cloak from Ron’s room? I think Fred and George will be happy to help you out and not let their mum know you came by.”

Harry waited until Hagrid came bursting back out of the Floo about an hour later. He was grinning from ear to ear as he tossed Harry the Invisibility Cloak. “Those two are relieved to hear yer all OK, fer now that is. I did NOT tell ‘em about yer Time trippin’. I dint tell ‘em much, jus’ that ya needed that.” Hagrid tossed him the Cloak, and his lap vanished as it landed on him. “They were hot to come back with me, but I told ‘em no.”

“Thanks, Hagrid,” Harry replied sincerely. “I have to go now. I’ll see you, oh, about a month or so ago then? An’ then I’ll see you tomorrow night?”

The huge man nodded and swept Harry up in his arms again, spinning him around and planting a rather wet kiss on his cheek. He looked almost as if he were about to say something, but then cocked his head. “I should catch up on me mail, ya know,” he said in a mysterious tone, “Been neglectin’ it lately. Owls come an’ go an’ I never get ‘round to readin’ it all.” Then he stepped back into the Floo and vanished.

Harry gathered up his supplies and flew his Nimbus 2000 over to the Kearnys. It was quite late when he finally arrived. He parked it in the barn and slipped down to the house, wondering where Hedwig was as he threw the Cloak over his head, vanishing. He was having enough trouble worrying about his Time travels, however, to bother with thinking about it too much. He slipped into the house and sat down at the far end of the kitchen table, waiting for Darby’s nightmare to begin. In a few moments, the sleepwalking boy came out with Mrs. Finnegan right behind him. Darby’s pitiful cry for Seamus from out on the front porch sent a chill through him, and he bit his bottom lip hard until it bled.

It wasn’t long until she’d put him back to bed, and he could hear Mrs. Kearny talking to her in a low voice. Very quickly, he pulled a bottle of The Elixir of Life out of his pocket and waited. Sure enough, she came to the kitchen and got him some Sleeping Potion, just as he’d been told she had. He crept back into the other room, following her carefully, and poured it into the cup while she wasn’t watching. He sighed in relief as Darby drank it down and went back to sleep. Tha’s one, he thought. Then he glanced over at the stairs, wondering just what his former self and Ron were up to at that moment.

He was sitting there wondering if he should sneak up the stairs and check when Harry Potter got the shock of his life.

“Bad dreams, Harry?” He heard her say from the other room, and then Harry Potter saw himself coming through the door wearing only his Gryffindor boxers and walking funny. Oh, hell, I came down for a drink of water, he thought, suddenly wondering what to do. He’d already taken his own Elixir dose, and he wondered how to get Ron to take some without revealing himself. He watched as his former self got a drink and headed back through the door.

“Ron might wanna drink,” he said aloud, wondering what he’d do if in that situation and realizing too late that he’d ask questions.

Former-Harry stopped in his tracks, turning slowly around to see a small bottle sitting on the table. He came back over and picked it up, examining it closely. As he started to put it back down, an idea seized Present-Harry so strongly that he almost choked. He pulled his Wand out and tapped his throat, thinking hard of Seamus Finnegan and how much he wanted him back in his arms.

“Make ‘im drink it, ‘Arry,” Present-Harry said in Seamus’ voice, perfectly at that. “Iz gon’ta be bad if’n ‘e don’ drink it.”

“Seamus?” Former-Harry breathed, looking around, confused.

“Bad dreams, ‘Arry,” he said, trembling, “Wizards’ Dreams, ya know. Make Ron drink it, please! It’ll protect ‘im, I know!”

“What if it’s a trick?” Former-Harry asked suspiciously. “What if it’s poison?”

Present-Harry swallowed hard, his mind racing. Then he said, “When ya come to me room in Gryffindor Tower, an’ found me cryin’, all alone, and me flower dyin’, we cried, ‘Arry. It come back ter life, it did, and it wuz all ‘cuz ‘o you! We sat in the window an’ jus’ touched. You sneezed, too, an’…”

Former-Harry’s jaw dropped. “A’right! A’right! No one knows that!” He whispered excitedly, his emerald eyes wide.

“We do.” It wasn’t really a lie, after all.

“What about ME then?” Former-Harry asked the empty room, obviously convinced that Seamus had somehow Magically succeeded in contacting him.

“Ya don’ need it, yer fine. Ron’s in danger, though. But don’ let on. Don’ tell the adults! An’ don’ tell RON what that is! Jus’ make ‘im drink it all!”

Former-Harry snatched up the bottle and ran back to the stairs, pounding up them two at a time. Present-Harry followed, arriving just in time to hear Ron protesting. It seemed as if he were drinking, or had drunk it, however. “That wudn’t bad,” Ron was saying, “Got any more?”

Present-Harry slid down the wall to thump heavily on the floor, sighing in relief. Darby and Ron and he were safe, although he had no clue whatsoever about what was going to happen at the cemetery when he finally intervened in the battle.

“It’s a thousand years til Seamus,” he said in a hardly audible voice, listening to his former self getting back into bed with Ron and wishing that he could join him … them. After a bit, he got back up and slipped back out to the barn, watching Hedwig circling the farm high overhead on silent wings. The white owl almost seemed to glow in the dark, the moonlight painting her in a very pale blue color.

He was just on his way out to the barn to leave when something happened. The world seemed to almost jump sideways as Hedwig came swooping down and landed on his shoulder. Harry almost fell down. She had a dead vole in her beak.

“Hedwig!” Harry cried, realizing what had just happened. “Y-you’re supposed to fly up to the window an’ … an’ try to give me the vole! Y-you cahn’t SEE me! I’m under the Cloak!”

Hedwig grunted at him, munching the vole.

“Shit, I’ve changed the Timeline,” Harry mused, as what appeared to be a solitary owl hovered along to the barn without using her wings.

They arrived in the barn and Harry pulled off his cloak, becoming visible. Once Harry had mounted his Broomstick, he told Hedwig to stay. She didn’t seem to believe him, though, until the upstairs window slid open and Harry could just make out the form of his naked self sitting on the sill, staring out into the night. Hedwig looked back and forth a few times and nodded in irritation. “It’s Magic,” Harry told her, which seemed to satisfy her. She nibbled his ears affectionately and hooted, flying up to join Former-Harry on the sill so that he could tell her all about his bad dreams.

Nodding, Present-Harry got on his Nimbus 2000 and took off into the night, setting a blistering course back to London to follow the railway tracks to Hogwart’s while he still had the darkness to hide him. Figuring that he could see any oncoming aircraft with their lights on, he fixed his gaze upon the tracks far below. They glowed like two infinitely long silver-blue snakes, and he focused on them. He pushed the Broomstick as hard as he dared, backing off only when the handle began to vibrate between his legs. He grew erect and annoyed, and frightened as well, realizing that if all went as according to plan, he’d never have to worry about erections again.

It was getting on towards daybreak when he finally saw the towers of Hogwart’s Castle looming in the distance as the night began to just give way to the first gray rays of dawn. Yawning and putting on a burst of just a bit more speed, Harry swooped down to see the lights of the village just coming on to greet the day. No one seemed to be moving about yet, though, and he landed behind the train station, quickly throwing his Invisibility Cloak back on. He fingered the Time-turner and swallowed hard, realizing that this was his last go with it.

Tempus Defugit, he whispered in a shaking voice, as the world spun away from him in an icy chill. He thought hard about the last day of First Year, Hagrid, the cabin, the morning he’d gone home with his photo album full of images of his parents…

He came to his senses after what seemed like an eternity, standing right where he’d been when he’d said it. The Time-turner was hot in his hand, but it was still there. It was not, however, mirrored and shiny. Instead, it had turned dull and gray, its Powers exhausted. Then the silver chain snapped and fell off in his hand, taking a great weight from his shoulders as the burnt out Time-Turner vanished.

Wherever … whenever he was, Harry Potter was stuck there until Time caught up with him.

Harry blinked and looked around, still invisible. The early risers were coming out, he saw, and there was light at the train station. He saw the shining bright red Hogwart’s Express, looking dark maroon in the dim light, just beginning to be fired up; he saw the first belch of steam from her stacks as someone tested the whistle.

In a few hours, as he lost track of time watching the people come and go and making ready, Harry had accepted his fate. He was going to wait for Hagrid, follow him back to his cabin, and then take The Knife. He knew he’d have to do it himself, as Hagrid had already … hadn’t yet … refused to help him, but he was sure that he could do it. The sight of Seamus begging him to come and find him had been burned into his brain, and the taste of Seamus had been stained upon his lips as well.

He had to have him.

It didn’t matter what the cost.

He HAD to have him.

It didn’t matter what the cost.

The sight of Seamus’ lying cold and dead in the wet grass was as fresh in his mind as if it had happened only yesterday (and it had!), and he’d made his decision.

He HAD to save him.

It didn’t matter what the cost.

And then a bell began to toll up at the Castle as carriages filled with workers began to roll down towards the station. Harry stepped back, watching them unloading as more carriages came down the hill, these carrying students. They milled around, said their goodbyes, boarded the train, and a few lingered. Harry saw teachers and porters alike ushering the stragglers onto the train, all of them just filled with a warm breakfast, and the whistle sounded shrilly.

“All ahh-booooooooooooooooooooard!” The conductor called out, blowing the whistle again. Harry watched, blinking back tears, as his former self hugged Hagrid goodbye. His face was scratched up and his hand bandaged, but he was smiling. And then he saw Seamus come running down the platform, puffing and yelling, “Wait fer me!”

He saw himself leaning down from the train car’s door then, and Seamus took his hand so that Harry could hoist him up as the train began to move. Hagrid stood there beaming, then pulled out a small Muggle-type disposable camera and snapped a few pictures, the flash popping while the boys waved at him.

He watched the train leaving, so slowly, but picking up speed. The shining red cars almost glowed in the morning sunlight, as if on fire, and Harry yearned to be in that car with his friends again - far away from the horrors that THEY were soon to face that summer. He sniffled and wiped his eyes, pulling off his specs and having to blow his nose. When he’d gotten ahold of himself, he saw Hagrid turning to go and followed him.

It was quite the hike back to Hagrid’s cabin, and Harry’s left leg was in agony when they finally arrived. He’d just thought he wasn’t going to make it when Hagrid turned around, just about to open his door, and called out, “Here, Fluffy, here boy!”

Harry’s heart stopped, and he jumped onto his Broomstick, ready to fly away. Fluffy was the LAST thing he wanted to see. But instead of a slobbering, monstrous three-headed dog that was bent on eating him, Harry saw an average sized, tail-wagging three-headed dog instead. Fluffy came running around the corner of the cabin, stopped, hiked his leg and peed on it, and then came bounding over to Hagrid. All three of his heads licked his master as he yipped happily.

“Now, ain’t that better, being back ter normal size an’ all? You done a good job, though, Fluffy, and daddy’s proud ‘o ya! Yeh wuldn’t ‘a ate those three kids, would you now? There’s a good boy, yea!”

Fluffy rolled over and Hagrid rubbed his tummy.

An Engorgement Charm, Harry thought in disgust. All I had to say was ‘reducto’, and Fluffy would have been a puppy again, like he really WAS to begin with? It was an act? He’s friendly?! Damn!

Harry was still watching in shock, though, when Fluffy jumped up, sniffing. The dog trotted over towards him, and then suddenly jumped at him. His tail was wagging, though, and Harry’s Cloak slid off, revealing him and hiding Fluffy. Hagrid made a small sound, and then smiled broadly, following Fluffy’s yips and yaps until he’d located him and taken the Cloak off. Fluffy ran to Harry, all three tongues licking at him and his tail wagging in delight.

“Wonderin’ when ye’d show up, ‘Arry,” he said, “Er shud I say, show up AGAIN? Yer a bit younger, this time, though.”

“You … you knew?” Harry squeaked, rubbing at his leg and wincing as Fluffy washed him down with his three long, wet tongues.

“Course I knew! Yer older self told us quite a story. Course, that dint stop him from doin’ it in the first place, though. Here, lemme,” Hagrid said happily, scooping Harry up in his arms again and carrying him into the cabin as Fluffy nipped at his heels.

“Looks like yer gonta ‘av a LONG summer with me, ‘Arry,” Hagrid said, still grinning as he sat Harry down at the table. Harry winced. “Hurt bad, do it?”

Harry nodded. “Long walk,” he said, putting his head down. Then he took a deep breath, looking around the one big round room at the kitchen area. “You know why I’ve come back then?”

Hagrid poured him a cup of tea and mixed some Willow Potion into it. Harry drank it gratefully, the pain in his leg subsiding a bit. “I know,” Hagrid said in a low voice, full of apprehension. “If’n yer sure it’s the only way, then I won’ stop ya. I won’ help ya, but I won’ stop ya. Like I said, yer older self dropped by, and he had quite a story to tell us.”

Harry sat in silence for a long time as Fluffy tried to climb into his lap. His little cock was throbbing in his shorts, and he rubbed at it, wondering what it would be like to reach down there and not find it. He wondered what it would feel like when he peed. He wondered how he’d feel about Seamus then, once he was just like him.

Cock ‘n balls er not, I’ll still love him, Harry told himself, his resolve strengthening.

He had another cup of tea, mulling it over in his mind as Hagrid watched him. He reached down absently and scratched Fluffy’s ears, wondering where Fang was at.

Finally, he got up. “Hagrid, there’s something I’d like to do if you don’t mind. Could you uh, well, you know…” Harry faltered, but Hagrid was laughing at him!

“Ya wanna have a last wank, do ya?”

Harry nodded glumly, averting his eyes.

“I’ll wait outside,” Hagrid said, his voice trembling as he adjusted his trousers. “I do NOT wanna know,” he said resolutely, taking Fluffy and heading out the door. “I am NOT gonta watch!”

Harry got up and made his way over to the great chair in front of the fireplace. He found the reclining lever and tested it, then kicked his sneakers off. He pulled his black sweatshirt off, along with his T-shirt, and then slipped out of the black cargo shorts. He pulled down his boxers, and sat in the chair, flicking the lever to recline. His cock was already hard and throbbing, waiting for its last go.

It was quite different this time, however. Harry fondled himself slowly, retracting his foreskin and letting it slide back. There was too much of it to reveal his glans, even when erect, and the sensitive tip was already leaking a bit of fluid. He looked it over closely, noticing for the first time how a boy’s penis is really built. It’s a fascinating little thing, he thought, making small noises of pleasure as his other hand moved over his hairless sac and gently squeezed the stones within.

There were so many terms for ‘testicles’, Harry realized with a grin, as his fingers felt the round smoothness of his doomed jewels and moved along to follow the path of the connecting cords up to his body. Of course he knew all about how boys were built, and why, but it still made him wonder. As he was toying with his foreskin, shivering with the feelings that it gave him, he wondered WHY anyone would want to cut that off of their son when there didn’t seem to be any real reason to do it. He’d heard that it was all the rage in the United States, half a world away.

Then, unable to resist any longer, he began moving his left hand up and down the shaft of his quivering cock, the foreskin sliding around as he did. He moaned softly when his fingers touched the exposed glans, wondering what it felt like to have it out in the air all of the time. Wasn’t Lee Jordan circumcised? He seemed to recall Ron mentioning something like that, when they’d been talking about it.

As Harry’s mind filled with thoughts of different aspects of cutting the male genitals for whatever reason, he thought about Darby and how his little cock was so tightly circumcised that it seemed to be about half up all of the time. One of his fingers moved to the frenum, the small connecting flap of skin just under the edge in the front that ran back to the shaft. I don’t think Darby had one of these, he recalled, realizing that if one were circumcised, that should still be there as well.

And then he thought about Seamus. Visions of that little freckled face and that piping voice filled his mind, and once again, he saw the cup of water at the Gryffindor dinner table explode as the Irish lad tried to transfigure it into rum. Hermione was sitting there, fanning the smoke away, and everyone was laughing. And then there was Neville, hopping into the Great Hall with his legs locked. Seamus was offering to undo the Curse, but Neville wouldn’t have it.

“The last thing I need is ter ‘av YOU settin’ me bloody kneecaps on fire,” he’d drawled, and Seamus was mightily offended.

Harry groaned as the first contractions began somewhere within him. It wasn’t going to be long.

“I’ll have you all know,” Seamus had yelled at them in his high, piping voice that made Harry shiver as he recalled it, “That my eyebrows have all grown back in!” Seamus had then turned to go, leaving Neville with his legs locked together. There had been a huge chunk of hair burnt off from the back of his head, but he’d hadn’t known it.

Every memory of Seamus can rushing back at Harry then, even some that he wasn’t really aware of. He was flying his Broomstick at the Quidditch match against Slytherin, passing in front of the Gryffindor stands. There was Seamus, the smallest boy on the front row, waving a gold and maroon flag and screaming and smiling! I saw him, I know, or I’d not recall it, Harry thought, his breath coming in short little gasps as his body started to seize up in preparation for ejaculation.

And then another face came to his mind’s eye.

“Malfoy,” Harry groaned, and Draco was standing over him, a foot in the small of his back and pointing his Wand at him. They were in the old cemetery, and he was so close to getting away with Seamus.

Draco Malfoy was a eunuch.

So was Seamus.

And Harry Potter was about to become one.

That final thought sent him over the edge as a stream of much thicker ejaculate shot from his cock and struck him in the glasses. He looked down, but everything was blurred and fogged by the stuff running down his lenses and dripping onto his face, as his whole body seemed to take fire inside. He shot again and again, and for the first time, Harry noticed the smell. It was a musky odor, with a hint of wintergreen. All in all, he fired about six times as the rest dribbled out and ran down his hand.

But what was happening on the outside was nothing compared to what was happening on the inside. It felt as if, when he first began to cum, that he couldn’t get it all out. As the blasts continued, it felt as if there were more that needed to desperately get out. His little balls pulled up tight, and something deep inside of him felt like it was blowing into small bits, threatening to take the rest of him with it!

Biting his lip, Harry made only small sounds as he orgasmed for what he believed must surely be the last time. He wanted to cry out badly, fighting against it, for fear of attracting attention. After all, Hagrid had said that he dint want to know.

It was the most violent orgasm of his short sexual career.

When it was over, Harry lay there with his own juices splattered all about himself and the chair. He didn’t realize it, but he was quite the mess. He groaned once, still shivering a bit from the pleasure, and pulled his glasses off. “Yuck!” He said aloud, amazed at the amount of stuff that had just come out of him. He sniffed. He was going to need a bath.

Just about then, the front door opened and Harry jumped. Hagrid walked in as if nothing were amiss, carrying a large dead chicken and an axe. “All done?” He asked cheerfully, glancing over at Harry with a broad grin, as if seeing a cum-soaked boy in his chair were an everyday occurrence.

“H-how’d you know?” Harry replied, his face redder than it had ever been. He didn’t move, though. What was the point? After all - and it confused him to recall it at that time - hadn’t Hagrid said that he’d changed his diapers when he was a baby, before he’d been left at Privet Drive?

Hagrid grinned at him, shaking his bushy head. “Don’ take boys long, nope,” he mused, “I knew yeh was done by the time I went out and found dinner,” he laughed, proudly holding up the dead chicken. Harry stared at him, naked and messy in the recliner, with his blush spreading down his neck to his collarbone.

“D-dinner?” He managed, as a drop of juice dripped off of the end of his nose. Hagrid laughed, then sniffed.

“Oh, Harry, yeh need a bath, bad, I’d wager! What a mess yeh’ve made!”

Harry felt like crawling under the chair and hiding.

Fluffy fled at the mention of the word ‘bath’.

Hagrid laid his chicken and axe aside, and went over to the far side of the cabin. He pulled out his pink umbrella and tapped the side of his enormous bathtub, which was large enough for Harry to swim in. “Fill’er up,” he said, and the tub began to fill from an unconnected set of taps, just like the tub at Seamus’ house had. Hagrid then pulled out a washcloth the size of towel, a towel large enough to be a blanket for the boy, and a bottle of something that filled the cabin with a floral, relaxing scent as it bubbled up in the hot water.

“Ah, there we are,” he said in a satisfied tone, turning back to Harry, who was still red. It had spread down to his shoulders, and he was beginning to get sticky. Hagrid scooped him up, laughing, and carried him over to the tub. His face was a mystery.

“I wanted to keep yeh so bad,” he said in soft tone, lowering Harry into the hot water. Harry had to sit up and tilt his head back to keep from going under. “I begged Dumbledore to let me ‘av ya, I did, but no … had to give ya to those damn Muggles, he did. Broke me heart, leavin’ ya there on the doorstep that night,” the huge man said, taking Harry’s glasses off and swishing them about in the hot, soapy water. Then he sat the specs aside. Harry squinted up at him, unsure of what to say as Hagrid rubbed a bar of soap at the washcloth and began vigorously assaulting Harry’s ears with it.

The boy relaxed in the soothing bath as Hagrid scrubbed him down from head to foot. His touch was surprisingly gentle for a man so large, and Harry thought he saw a tear in his eye a few times. Without his specs, he couldn’t be sure, though. Anything beyond six inches from his nose was a lost cause without them. Hagrid carefully went over every inch of his body, and Harry closed his eyes and just floated in the pool sized tub, sighing in contentment.

“Yeh know, they’re all still alive, boy,” Hagrid then said without warning, and Harry’s eyes snapped open. “It’s a long, long time until July 20. Yer lucky, yeh know. I mean, one ‘o you is goin’ home now, but yer here. Yeh get to redo yer summer holiday, with me!”

Harry thought about that, realizing that he was right! He wasn’t going to lose the time he’d spent locked up in his room, miserable, thinking that all of his friends had forgotten him as Dobby the House Elf stole his mail. Very gently, Hagrid’s washcloth made its way to Harry’s middle, and he laughed despite himself. “That tickles!” He cried, and Hagrid dug in a bit, making Harry laugh harder and splash, soaking the huge man in the process as he squirmed in delight.

When he’d settled down a bit, Hagrid’s hands moved beneath the bubbles to take hold of his cock. Harry gasped as he felt his foreskin slide back, and trembled as the washcloth scrubbed him clean down there. He felt himself getting hard, and his face flamed again.

“I remember whut it wuz like, bein’ young and full ‘o hormones,” he laughed, tenderly making sure that the boy was clean enough as Harry felt that familiar feeling of an explosion building up again. Even though he was certain that he WAS totally clean down there, Hagrid didn’t stop wiping him with the soapy washcloth. He continued his scrubbing, moving up and down the pounding shaft under the bubbles until Harry cried out in ecstasy, blowing what was left inside of him into the bathwater and crying out in pleasure.

“That outta hold yeh,” Hagrid told him, gingerly lifting Harry’s injured leg to look it over. “Yer older self told us ‘bout this,” he said softly. “I don’ know that it’ll ever be right again,” he wondered as he scrubbed at the smooth skin, broken here and there by a small scratch or bug bite that all young boys seem to have on their legs in the summer.

“It hurts to walk on it, still,” Harry told him, still a bit shocked that Hagrid had wanked him off in the bath, and not sure of what to make of it! He wasn’t objecting, though. “He said … he said I had to use … to use a crutch for six months!”

“Things are changin’,” Hagrid informed him, taking his other leg in his large hands and scrubbing at it. “I don’ know much about Time, ‘Arry. All I know is this – if’n yer older self laid hands on a Time-turner, two of ‘em, actually, ‘cause no one’s EVER been able to Apparate back in Time, then yeh musta done somethin’ right. From the looks ‘o him, when ‘e wuz here, looked like ‘e done pretty good ter me. Hell, yeh see someone flunk a grade now an’ then. Not unusual.”

“But he did it all alone,” Harry said sadly. “I cahn’t do that, Hagrid. I cahn’t come back here without Ron and Seamus and Darby.” Then he paused for a bit, thinking. “And I think I’d even miss Malfoy. I’d have no one to keep me riled up and thinking!”

“It’s jus’ awful, whut they did ter Draco, Harry. Yer older self told us that too, when ‘e wuz here. It’s wrong to hurt a boy like that, it is. Unfergivable, it is!” Hagrid growled, suddenly very angry and losing his grip on Harry’s leg. Harry slid under the water and came back up, spluttering. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“s’OK,” Harry replied, wiping at his eyes and feeling totally relaxed. “But tha’s why I have to do it, you know.”

Hagrid nodded, draining the tub. When the water had run out, Harry held up his arms and Hagrid wrapped him in a soft towel, picking him up once more. Hagrid hugged him close, making small noises. “Maybe someday,” he sighed. “If’n I e’er meet the right woman.”

“What?” Harry asked.

“I always wanted a boy ‘o me own. Like I said, I wanted YOU so bad. Look at how them damn fools raised yeh, ignorin’ yeh and makin’ yeh miserable all them years, when yeh coulda been here with me! Yeh wuldn’t ‘av come here knowin’ nothin’, and yeh’d ‘av knowed all there wuz to know ‘bout this place by the time yeh was 11! Could’a been a real one’up on ‘em all.”

Harry thought about it, and wished that it HAD turned out like that. He could see himself following Hagrid around the grounds, raising monsters as pets, and meeting all of the strange creatures who dwelled in the Forbidden Forest. He laughed at the vision of himself dressed in a miniature version of Hagrid’s moleskin coat and heavy boots.

But it hadn’t turned out that way, for reasons that only Albus Dumbledore knew. Harry sighed as Hagrid held him in one arm, clearing off the kitchen table with the other. He then shook his head, going for his umbrella again. “This jus’ won’ do,” he mumbled, waving the umbrella at the table.

The tablecloth began to change and smoke, turning white. Dust and dirt literally fled from the room, and the whole cabin began to smell of antiseptics. Harry sniffled. It smelled like the Hospital Wing, which he was so familiar with. Hagrid laid him out the sterilized table, taking the towel, and positioning him in a spread-eagle position.

“Yer sure?” He asked one last time.

Harry nodded. “I think I gotta pee first.”

He went and did that, limping only slightly as he came back to be placed on the table again. His cock was beginning to grow erect again, and he realized that he’d just peed standing up for the last time.

“Hold up yer hand,” Hagrid told him, and he did that. “Now think about The Knife, Harry. Think about the Knife of Klingsor and WHY yeh need to do this.”

Images of the failed battle filled his mind then, and Harry focused on only one thought. He could see himself in the cemetery once again, as the green fireballs of the forbidden Killing Curse struck him over and over. He was advancing upon Voldemort, and there was murder flashing his red eyes. But Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, could not be stopped. Bristling within an aura of raw Power – Wild Power that had come from The Knife of Klingsor – Harry simply could not be stopped!

Very suddenly, the drawer in the kitchen burst open and The Knife of Klingsor flew across the room, landing with a soft WHAP sound on Harry’s tummy. He stared down at it in wonder, his fingers almost itching to take the blade in his hand and be done with it. He could almost hear a rough voice, whispering in his ear, encouraging him.

Those who know what they desire, it rasped at him, And are not afraid to go after it, THOSE are the ones I will take into MY House. Only those who are dedicated and true, those of any parentage, Pureblood or not! Leave the snobbish Purebloods to Slytherin; I will take the true ones who crave Power! I will take them all, especially the boys who desire Power above all else!

“I can hear him,” Harry breathed, his eyes wide as his fingers closed upon the bejeweled handle of The Knife of Klingsor. “I can hear Klingsor speaking to me.”

“I’m goin’ fer Madam Pomfrey,” Hagrid said sharply, “I do NOT want ter see THIS!” And he fled, leaving Harry to listen to the voice of Klingsor the Wizard, the first Eunuch Wizard to be possessed of Wild Power.

Is it such a sacrifice, for what you will receive in return? It asked in the disembodied voice, wheedling, coaxing, encouraging. All this silliness with sex, all of this unnecessary equipment dangling between your legs. Be off with it, Harry! Be off with it and take The Power which calls to you! Come, join MY House! Join the House of Klingsor, which is no more!

But Harry Potter wasn’t thinking about Power.

He was thinking about Seamus.

And Ron.

And Darby.

He was even thinking about Draco Malfoy, forced into becoming a mere plaything, a Power supply for Voldemort.

The Knife was warm in his hand, and he stared at it for a long while, wondering how badly it would hurt.

With an insatiable thirst to make things right, Harry raised the Knife. His cock throbbed, pressing back against his belly as if in fear – as if it knew! His balls pulled up tight, and just at the edges of his senses, he could hear Madam Pomfrey screaming at Hagrid as the door burst open. He positioned The Magical Knife just under his scrotum, the razor sharp blade drawing blood as it simply touched him.

He took a deep breath, and then yanked The Knife of Klingsor upwards in one smooth movement.

It wasn’t painful, though, and Harry stared in wonderment as his boyhood slipped over the top of the blade and fell to the tablecloth with a wet, SPLAT/SLURP sound. Blood poured from the wound, but The Knife – not wanting to lose its latest boy – released a burst of cyan light that filled the wound, staunching the flow of blood and making Harry’s groin tingle and sting only a bit. He stared, fascinated, as his hand moved The Knife up and away from himself. Blood sizzled and smoked in the cyan light of the shining blade, and suddenly Hagrid and Madame Pomfrey were there.

“Oh, it’s you again,” she said in a disgusted tone of voice. “I thought you just went home on the train? I thought I was rid of you for a few months?”

Then she spied his severed genitals, and scooped them up, dropping them into a ceramic jar that sealed with a puff of purple smoke and a loud POP! “We might want that later,” she mused, as Harry dropped The Knife on the table with a loud clatter.

“Harry, er yeh OK?” Hagrid begged, taking his small hand in his huge one and trembling visibly.

“It dint hurt much,” Harry sighed as Madam Pomfrey tended to the rapidly and Magically closing wound in his groin. She deftly made some adjustments, then began working with her Wand and some assorted tools that frightened Harry more than The Knife of Klingsor had.

“I’d hoped that Finnegan was the last Eunuch Boy Wizard I’d see in my career here. Job security, I suppose,” she complained, “As long as you and your gang are here, I’m sure to have a job at Hogwart’s!” She then proceeded to clean the wound, which hurt more than the actual cutting had!

Harry squirmed and yelped in pain, but Hagrid held him down as Madame Pomfrey shoved a clear tube up into the wound. It filled with a bit of oddly colored urine, and Harry felt as if he were being stung by a bee somewhere deep inside of him. He felt like he had to pee, but couldn’t. But he also felt like he was peeing and couldn’t stop. It was very confusing. She then finished, bandaging him up and instructing Hagrid to put him to bed and to keep him there.

“I KNOW this one,” she said to him, “Watch him! He’ll sneak off when you least expect it, no matter how badly he’s hurt! You should have come and got me before, Rubeus. I’d have given him a good cleaning out before the surgery!”

Harry stared up at her in disbelief. He’d just emasculated himself, and she was no more perturbed than if he’d shown up with a simple cut or bump on the head! In fact, she was upset over a missed chance to give him a good ‘cleaning out’. It was unbelievable.

He found himself being put in Hagrid’s huge bed, without pajamas, as Madam Pomfrey attached the catheter to a large bottle on the floor. She made him drink a vile tasting Potion, which quickly made him feel numb and stupid. Harry’s eyes drooped as Hagrid tucked him in and kissed his forehead, shaking his bushy head in disbelief.

“Tha’s not OUR Harry Potter,” he could just hear him telling her as they began to clean up the mess. “Ours IS on the train home. This one come back, Poppy. Come back in Time ter … ter do … this. Ter save ‘is friends.”

Harry fought to stay awake, to listen to them. He was losing his fight, though.

“Something bad happened to him, this summer, then?” She guessed. “Something so horrible that he had to come back and find The Knife of Klingsor, Rubeus? What could be so bad as to drive a boy to cut off his own genitals?”

“Something real bad, Poppy. Something that made him – Harry from 200 years in the future – come back to set him on this track to begin with.”

“Just what I need,” she groaned, packing up her things to go, “TWO of them running about the School causing chaos!” Then she turned as Harry began to drift off. “Keep him in bed for two weeks, change his bandages daily, and plenty of liquids! Make sure he eats, too, I know this one. I’ll leave some more watered down Draught of Living Death to keep him knocked out, so he won’t wander off on you.”

She was just going out the door when Harry felt a warm hand on his smooth cheek as his eyes fell shut. Something wet was on his face as well, and he assumed that Fang had come in and found him at last.

Then, warm and relaxed and snuggled down into Hagrid’s great soft bed with the giant of a man guarding him, Harry Potter – the newest Eunuch Wizard and Bearer of Wild Power – fell asleep with a smile on his angelic face.

Outside the front door, Fluffy expanded to epic proportions once again, growling ominously at anyone who even looked towards Hagrid’s cabin. His three heads looked in three directions at once, but his tail wagged in anticipation as he caught the scent of the wounded boy whom he was guarding.

It was going to be a while before they got to run off and play, Fluffy realized.