Chapter 7: Betrayal

As it turned out, Harry and Ginny had one more night to spend together in the boys' dorm.  Mr. Weasley had gone back to work, but Mrs.  Weasley and Ginny were remaining at Hogwarts, hoping Ron would be found.  Bill was still in the hospital wing, in a private room.  His wounds had become infected.  Although Ron no longer seemed to be at Hogwarts, it was the last place he'd been seen.

In more than one way, it was a shame it was the last night they would be alone in a place they didn't have to worry about being interrupted -- caught in the act.  They had spent hours making love in Harry's bed, Harry becoming a better lover than he'd ever been with functioning balls -- with a penis long enough to penetrate Ginny. 

No longer engrossed in his own orgasms, he'd observed Ginny, learning to prolong her orgasms, especially when he used his tongue on her.  With his tongue on her clitoris and his fingers in her vagina, he could bring her off, time and time again.  Once, when Ginny had been screaming -- probably loud enough for Hermione to hear in the next dorm -- he had paused, but she had screamed even louder, "No -- no.  Don't stop!   More.   I want more."

Her orgasms were like riding a roller coaster, thought Harry, a peak followed by a valley, followed by another peak, but -- different from a roller coaster -- the peaks seemed to be higher with every orgasm, until, limp from exhaustion, Ginny collapsed, her eyes rolled back in her head.

The first time had frightened Harry.  He'd been afraid he would hurt her, but when he'd suggested that they take it easy, Ginny had said, "DON'T YOU DARE, HARRY POTTER.  Don't you dare!"

His orgasms had transported him -- when he'd been able to have them -- but Ginny's were more intense than anything he'd ever experienced.  "What's it like?" he asked.

"What, Harry?" she said.  It'd been a full ten minutes since her orgasm -- since she'd stopped screaming.  She'd been lying on her back.  Harry had gone down on her.  Finally sated, she had stopped thrusting her clitoris against his tongure and was lying, seemingly unconscious, her mouth open as she panted, trying to catch her breath.

"What's it like when -- you know --  you have a climax?"

"I -- I don't know, Harry.  I don't really remember them when they're over."

"And you still like them."

"I love them, Harry.  I crave them.  I don't know how I ever lived without them."

"But if you don't remember them," said Harry, "why do you like them?"

"Because, afterward I feel like I've seen God."

"But you know the muggle's god doesn't exist."

"It's not a god like the one they talk about.  It's a god that we're all a part of.  It's us -- you and me -- and it's everything else as well.  It's like I become part of the universe.  No one part is more important than the other.  The sun is no greater than a grain of sand on the beach."

"How can that be?" asked Harry.

"Because they're one and the same.  Separations, individuals, things, are all illusions.  Everything is the same.  We just don't see it  When I'm having an orgasm, I can't tell where I leave off and you begin.  Actually, I don't have an orgasm.  I become the orgasm.  That's all there is.  That's why I can't remember it afterward -- because Ginny no longer exists and, as Ginny, I have no reference point from which to discuss it."

"It takes me to a place where words have no meaning -- to a place where I, as an individual, or you as a person, has no meaning."

"I don't understand," said Harry.

"I don't understand it, either, Harry.  No one can.  It's beyond understanding.  It's beyond comprehension -- beyond rational thought.  It can only be experienced.  It can not be explained.  I wish I could take you there with me.  That's the only way you'll ever know."

Harry was feeling jealous -- left out.  He thought of sex as a way of becoming closer to Ginny, but she was leaving him behind, going on some cosmic journey, leaving him back on the bed.  He told her.  "I don't know whether I like it, your going off, leaving me behind."

"I'm not really leaving you behind, Harry.  I can't leave you behind because you're me and I'm you.  There's no difference between us.  You just don't realize it.  The rational part of your brain -- your thinking -- is holding you back.  If you could shut off your thoughts, you'd be there, too.  I'm able to get there because my orgasms drive all thought from my head."

"I think that's why," said Ginny, "people crave sex so much.  I think everyone, during an orgasm -- at least with another person -- is transported -- however briefly -- outside of themselves.  When they both come together, they merge, becoming one, and experience a little of what I have."

"But I can't come," said Harry.

"I know," said Ginny, crying.  "I wish you could.  I wish I could do something to help you come, but, Harry, someday you will.  Someday," she said, holding his two inch penis in her hand, "this will grow, and you'll be able to come again.  I'll be there when you can, Harry.  I'll never leave your side."

"If Voldemort lets me live that long."  Then, remembering what Ginny had said about everything being the same, Harry said, "You said everything was part of a whole.  Is Voldemort part of the whole?"

Ginny looked down for a minute, then raising her face, looked into Harry's eyes, and nodding her head, said, "Yes.  Voldemort's part of everything, too.  He just doesn't realize it."

"Voldemort's not part of me," shouted Harry.

Ginny didn't reply; but then, Harry wasn't rational when Voldemort was the topic.  Instead, she kissed him, whispering afterward, "Everything is everything."

Harry wasn't yet where he could understand.  He hadn't experienced what Ginny had.  Feeling left out, he -- for a moment, anyway -- was almost glad it was their last night together. 

By the next night, in bed by himself for the first time in days, Harry would miss Ginny -- miss her warmth, her smell, the feel of her skin next to his.  It wouldn't have mattered that -- on some level -- she left him, as long as she left her body behind.

He would understand a little of what she had said, because he would feel incomplete without her.  A part of him would be sleeping in the Girls' dorm with Hermione.

Colin was the first boy to arrive at Griffindor Tower the next day, rushing into the dorm and up to Harry's bed.  Ginny had only left Harry's bed a few minutes before.  It was fortunate -- probably for Colin's peace of mind -- she had, because She and Harry had been lying in bed naked.  Taking only a towel, she'd gone to take a shower. 

Luckily, Harry had the sheet pulled up to his waist, or Colin would have discovered that they were different -- that Harry had more left than he did.

Harry was in that in-between zone, not quite awake, but not really asleep.  Colin rushed into the room.  Almost as if nothing had happened to him, he rushed up to Harry's bed, shaking him until he was fully awake.  "Harry," he said.  "Wake up, Harry.  Which bed can I have?  Can I have this one?" he said, indicating Ron's old bed.

"No, that's Ron's bed," said Harry, a hint of anger in his voice.  He didn't appreciate being awakened -- at least not by someone other than Ginny.  Although she had kissed him when she had left, he didn't recall that right away.

"Which one can I have, then?  Why can't I have Ron's.  He's a Death Eater.  He emas -- emas-kyou-lay-ted you.  He's going to Azkaban when they catch him."

"Ron is not a Death Eater," said Harry, "and he didn't..."  Harry stopped.  He'd been about to say.  "He didn't emasculate me, but he'd remembered how Colin had reacted to being told he was "just like Harry."  To be told the truth, would probably crush him.  Harry couldn't do that, even though Colin was once again the same irritating boy he'd been for the last several years.

"Please," said Colin, patting Ron's bed.  "Let me sleep here,"

"All right," said Harry, giving in, wondering what Ron would think when he came back and found Colin in his bed.  Ron couldn't stand the boy, who irritated Ron more than Harry.  Colin had always inserted himself between Ron and Harry.  Everyone could tell he was jealous of Harry's friendship with Ron. 

Harry knew Colin would love to see Ron in Azkaban, but considering what the boy had been through, losing his genitals and his parents , Harry didn't have the heart to reject him.  He had possibly lost everything because of Harry.  Possibly all the boys had been castrated because of him.  It had happened after the Daily Prophet story about his being emasculated.  Except for the story, it might never have happened.  Harry felt just guilty enough to accede to Colin's wishes.

"You can sleep there for now," he said, "but when Ron comes back, you have to move."

"All right!" shouted Colin.  Obviously, he didn't expect Ron would return.

"Now," Harry said, remembering he'd wanted to ask Colin who had castrated him, "who attacked you?"

"The 'Colin grin,' which had been on the boy's face a moment before, disappeared, to be replaced by tears.  "It was a Death Eater...and..."  He hesitated, apparently needing some time to regain his composure.

"It wasn't Ron, was it?" asked Harry, hoping against hope that his friend hadn't been involved.

"No," said Colin, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.  "It was a Death Eater and...Malfoy."

"Malfoy?  Draco Malfoy?"

"Yes," said Colin.  The Death Eater killed my parents, but Malfoy did..." He ran his hand over his crotch, apparently searching for his lost parts.  "Malfoy did it to me.  I took a picture of him.  Do you want to see it?"

Harry wasn't surprised Colin had taken a pictures of his attackers -- he always had his camera around his neck -- but he was surprised his attackers hadn't taken it from him.  Apparently, they didn't care who knew who they were.

"I still had the camera around my neck when I was brought here," said Colin.  "Mr. Fudge took a copy, but left me the original."  Pulling a snapshot from his shirt pocket, Colin handed it to Harry.

Malfoy, with an inscrutable look on his face, swirled his wand, pointing it at the camera.  Harry could see his lips move as he said, "Neuterus."  A red flame shot toward the camera from his wand.  That's where the photograph ended.  "That's all I remember, said Colin.  "He must have done Dennis next.  He doesn't have any --"  He looked down at his crotch.  "anything down there either."

"Who was the Death Eater?  asked Harry.

"That werewolf guy," said Colin.  He ripped my mum and dad's throats out, even though he hadn't changed.  I thought he was going to rip mine out, too, but he told Malfoy, Do it, Malfoy.  Do it, or I'll do you.  That's when Malfoy pointed his wand at me.  That's the last thing I remembered until I woke up here in the hospital.  I was naked and I hurt.  I had to pee, but I couldn't.  I didn't have any -- you know what.  I thought Madam Pomfrey was going to fix me, but she just made a little hole down there.  Don't you hate to have to pee sitting down, Harry.  You can't stand at a urinal anymore."

As before, once Colin had begun talking, he wouldn't quit, but Harry let him talk, hoping to gleam some useful information from his ramblings.

"Am I still a boy without --"  Colin looked down again.  "it?" he continued.

"Of course, you are," said Harry. 

"Filch called me something else.  When I passed him in the hall on the way up here, he said, Well, look at the little eunuch.  What's a eunuch, Harry?"

Harry wasn't sure how to explain it to the boy.  "Do you know anything about cows?" he asked.

"Sure," said Colin.

"Well," said Harry, not certain this was the best way to explain it.  "when they cut off a bull's nadgers, they call him a steer.  After a boy's nadgers are cut off, he's called a eunuch."

"That's not right," said Colin.  Tears were again flowing from his eyes.  When a dog's nadgers are cut off, he's still called a dog.  Why should a boy be called a eunuch, when --" he felt his crotch again, rubbing it where his balls had been.  _-- his nadgers are cut off.  I don't want to be a eunuch, Harry.  I want to be a boy."

"You're still a boy, Colin.  Don't pay any attention to Filch.  It's just a word some people use."

About that time, the other boys began coming into the room.  Dean Thomas was with them.  He hadn't been in the hospital when Harry had been there earlier.  Although Harry was surprised to see him, he wasn't entirely unhappy that Dean had been castrated.  His was the only other penis Ginny had ever touched.  The idea of it still made Harry mad.

"They got you, too, Dean?" he asked.

"No," Dean said.  My parents sent me here, thinking I'd be safer at Hogwarts than at home."  Looking at Dean's crotch, Harry saw the bulge of his dobber and nadgers -- a bulge none of the others had.  It wasn't as bad having no genitals, when none of the others did, but to have none -- and effectively he didn't -- when Dean Thomas had his, was unfair.

What if Ginny decided she wanted Dean instead?  He had something that Harry didn't.  Harry could picture Dean poised above Ginny's naked body, about to plunge his hard pecker into her vagina.  Wouldn't she rather have his six inches than his two?   She'd said she would wait for him, but would she when faced with a choice between his dobber and Dean's? 

Ginny liked to screw.  Harry was certain she missed it, despite her claims to the contrary.  Harry had never felt so inadequate.  He'd been the Chosen One, the Boy-Who-Could-Not-Be-Killed, the boy who had defeated Vodemort.  Right now, he would trade all that for a penis the size of Dean's.

The other boys followed Dean into the room.  None of them had his swagger.  Apparently, he knew he had something none of the others had.  He was still a boy.  Maybe Filch had been right.  Maybe the rest of them -- even Harry -- were something less, something deserving a different name -- eunuch.

Although the others greeted Harry, none of them wanted to talk, but when questioned, each said that Malfoy, accompanied by Fenrir Greyback, had castrated him -- although few of them -- used that word.  Most of them said, "Did it," or something similar, as if refusing to name it would make it not so.

Dennis Creevey was the only one that didn't seem particularly upset.  Sitting on Colin's bed, he shot admiring looks at Harry.  He was almost as fixated on him as his brother was; but, maybe, since he had been prepubescent, he didn't realize what he had lost -- just as Colin seemed more upset about not being able to pee standing up than anything else.

Harry had become somewhat accustomed to his condition, but the others still seemed to be in shock.  He guessed it would be difficult to make small talk, to talk about Quidditch or school, when all you could think about were your missing genitals.  He'd had Ginny to help him beyond his sense of loss.  Harry wasn't sure what he would have done without her -- what he would do without her now. 

That's why Dean's presence, his having a six inch -- or possibly longer -- dobber bothered him.  Ginny had never told him how big Dean's pecker was, whether it was bigger than his had been or not.  As far as he knew, Dean could have one seven or eight inches long.  Pictures kept creeping into his mind -- pictures of it in Ginny's hand as she jacked him off, pictures of it in her vagina -- in her mouth.  A serpent coiled around his heart.  He hated Dean.  If he caught him with Ginny, he swore he'd use the Infantiliamus spell on him.

It had become difficult for he and Ginny to find time alone.  It seemed as though someone was always in the commons room, and because of the recent attacks, a spell had been put on the fat lady.  She wouldn't open after 8:00 PM.  Although they could have used the Concealimerius spell, it wouldn't pass close inspection.  If someone put his hand on the fake wall, it would pass through it.

 Maybe they would have done it anyway, if Harry could still become aroused -- Ginny had wanted to try -- but Harry hadn't wanted to take the chance.  If still subject to the hormones raging in his body as they had been the other time, he wouldn't have been able to say, no, but now, the only reason he engaged in sex with Ginny was to please her.  Besides, he was still a little jealous of her orgasms.

If they'd still been able to sleep together, Harry would have continued to be a good lover.  It was a fair price to pay to have her next to him.  Perhaps, if he hadn't felt as inadequate as he did with Dean around, he would have made more of an effort to please Ginny.  When he thought about it later, he realized it had been as much his fault as hers, but -- even with magic -- it's hard to put the toothpaste back in the tube.

Dean spoke to Ginny whenever he could, referring frequently to Harry's misfortune, even when Harry was around.  Harry could imagine what he was saying when he wasn't present.  Sometimes Harry would come upon them in the hall.  If he left Ginny for a moment, Dean seemed to take that opportunity to be with her.

A week had passed since Dean and the other boys had moved into the dorm.  Other than some quick snogging, Harry and Ginny had done little.  Sometime after everyone had gone to bed, Harry saw Dean crawl out of bed and leave the dorm.  He could have just been going to the bathroom, but Harry didn't think he was.  He put on his invisibility cloak and followed him.

Dean walked toward a wall of the common room -- then through it.  Someone had used the Concealimerius spell.  Harry followed.

Ginny was sitting on the same couch she and Harry had used.  Dean sat down beside her, attempting to kiss her.  Ginny put out her hands, holding him off.  "First -- we only do this if you understand it's only about sex.  I don't love you.  I love Harry."

"But he doesn't have this," said Dean, pulling out his penis.  It was hard; and it was larger than Harry's had been, a good seven inches.

Harry saw the look on Ginny's face when she saw it, the look of a women who had found a long-lost, prized possession.  Reaching her hand out toward it, she hesitated, then grasped it, biting her lower lip as she did.  Dean reached for her breast.  Ginny didn't stop him from touching it.

Still holding onto Dean's dobber, Ginny lay back on the couch.  Dean kissed her.  She kissed him back.

Next, Dean pushed down Ginny's pajama bottoms, exposing her red pubic hair -- her vagina.  He stuck his finger into it.  Ginny moaned and thrust her pelvis into his hand.  Her head was thrown back, and her eyes were closed.

With his other hand, Dean pushed down his pajama bottoms.  His bollocks were tight against his dobber.  A thick bush of brown hair was above his penis and short curly hair covered his balls.  He climbed on top of Ginny, his dobber poised above her vagina.  He moved, aligning the head of his penis with Ginny's vagina..  Harry saw the head of it disappear inside it, then, with a thrust of her hips, it was completely inside her.

Moaning, Ginny began thrusting with her hips while she clutched Dean to her.  It didn't take long for Dean to come.  "Oh -- oh," he said.  His balls were so tight against his dobber that they almost disappeared.  He collapsed, lying on top of Ginny, taking quick shallow breaths.

Ginny opened her eyes.  Harry knew she wasn't satisfied.  He and Ginny had made love for hours.  Once wouldn't be enough for her.  Rolling Dean over, she pulled off her pajama top, and shoved her pajama bottoms off her feet.  They had been gathered around her ankles.  Harry saw the breasts he loved. 

Then, she unbuttoned Dean's top pulling it off.  She didn't bother with his pajama bottoms, which were gathered around his ankles.  He kicked them off.  They were both naked.  Dean was already becoming hard again.  Harry wondered if it had been his first time.

When he reached for Ginny, she held him off, saying, "No, now it's my turn."  She had him lie on his back, then straddled him. reaching back with her hand to guide his penis into her vagina.  It slid in -- the whole seven inches -- disappearing inside her. 

Dean lasted longer this time.  Both of them had an orgasm, Ginny's evidently triggered by his.  She collapsed on top of Dean, but continued to grind her pelvis into his.

Harry pulled out his wand, determined -- the next time he had a clear shot -- to use the Infantiliamus spell on him.  If he couldn't fuck Ginny, Dean wouldn't be able to either.  When Ginny rolled off Dean he had his chance.  To himself, he said, "Infantil --" but didn't complete the spell.  If he had, he would have been no better than the Death Eaters, maybe worse.  They thought they were fighting for a cause.  He would have done it out of jealousy. 

Ginny and Dean were still screwing when he left, going back to his bed.  He couldn't watch any longer.  For a moment, he didn't think he cared whether Voldemort won -- whether Voldemort killed him.  He had lost Ginny.  Even if she still wanted him, how could he take her back, knowing that she might give in to any hard dick that came along?

She had told him that he didn't need a dobber, but her actions had proved that was a lie.  One week without sex and she was already letting another guy boff her.  How could he ever trust her again?  That's when he made the decision.

There was a potion in Snape's book, the very potion Voldemort had used to become the world's most powerful wizard.  It was  difficult to make, having to age for six months before the final ingredient was added.  Although Harry had knowm about the potion, he hadn't considered using it, because the last -- essential -- ingredient was his own genitals.  Voldemort had sacrificed his for power.  If Harry wanted to be equally strong, he would have to sacrifice his.

Before, it would have been too great a sacrifice, but now, what good were his anyway?  He'd lost Ginny, and Voldemort would probably kill him before his had a chance to mature.  Tomorrow, he would start the potion.  It would be an irrevocable decision because, as part of the preparation, he would have to dip his genitals into the potion. 

In six months -- when the potion had matured -- they would fall off, ready to be added to the potion.  Once dipped into the potion, no magic could prevent that from happening.

Once back in the dorm, about ready to climb into his bed, Harry paused, then climbed into bed with Colin instead.  Colin was the same age as Ginny -- and Harry knew Colin loved him.  It wasn't as if he intended to have sex with the boy.  Neither of them had the ability to have sex, anyway, did they? 

Betrayed as he had been by Ginny, he needed the comfort -- the touch -- of another person, someone who cared about him.  He was confident Colin wouldn't reject him.

Colin woke up when Harry lay down on his bed.  "What is it, Harry?" he said.

"Shh," said Harry.  He kissed Colin -- this time on the mouth.

Colin's eyes flew open; then he returned the kiss, inexpertly running his tongue into Harry's mouth.  Harry was still in bed with Colin when Dean returned to the dorm hours later.  Harry had been lying awake, awaiting his return.  He hoped Dean noticed that he was in bed with Colin.  He wanted him to tell Ginny, hoping it would hurt her at least a little.

It wouldn't be the first time a boy had been caught in bed with another boy.  It happened from time to time.  Harry knew that boys buggered other boys.  Although he and Ron had masturbated together, they had never done anything else.  Both had been interested in girls.  But it wasn't about sex, anyway.  He just wanted the physical comfort of another person's body.

The next day, he took off the Enhacmentarius spell.  He would no longer need it.  His penis shrank to less than one inch.  It  wouldn't matter to the potion.  To it, size, didn't matter.  It only mattered that he used his genitals.  No others would do.

Not waiting around to see Ginny, he walked to the dungeon -- to the potion classroom where he would find the other ingredients he needed.