Disclaimer: This story contains content that should not be read by people underneath the age of 21. The author cheerfully condones every action described . I don't own Harry Potter series, or any of the characters and make no profit from this story. Please read the story codes. Flashfic written in reply to prompt, 'Quidam'
Description: A hooded cloak to hide their face, a cubicle to hide their body. Who is giving head in the toilet?
Content Codes: Mm, mm, cons, oral, bukkake
Harry Potter: Assumptions
by JD ([email protected])
During Harry Potter's sixth year at Hogwarts, one of the few sources of respite from the increasingly bleak world was to be found in a cubicle the second floor girls' lavatory; a figure of mystery. Normally a cloaked individual spending time locked in a toilet cubicle would raise little comment at the school. However, a hole appeared in the cubicle's wooden wall first. Myrtle, knowing the whys and wherefores, declared it a glorious discovery when she pointed it out to Draco. Though he normally spent time in Myrtle's company for the benefit of their unexpected friendship, and respected her opinions, he was initially unimpressed with an apparent petty vandalism.
"Somebody cut a hole? Well? I'm sure Filch will come up and fix it."
"Draco, put your willy in."
"Come on, trust me."
Draco did. He later claimed the mouth on the other side seemed far more enthusiastic than skilled, though he could only base his claim on his own hand. After recovering from his initial surprise at finding the cubicle occupied, he found the eager tongue working around his shaft removed his flaccidity. Myrtle giggled at his changing facial expressions. His anxieties seemed to melt away into a spaced out, slack jawed wonderment. It was over quickly. Draco pulled away in shock as his seed spurted, splattering the edge of the hole wetly as he withdrew.
"Did you like it, Draco? I'd do that for you if I were still alive."
"Tell others to come at this time. Don't tell everyone though..."
He didn't need too. He just told a few people, and they told others. Rumor earned her keep. The following week five of Draco's fellows followed his example in feeding their organs through the hole.
"That girl," he proudly declared, "will suck everything without complaint."
The following week there were more, and yet more the week after that. The quality of the oral sex increased exponentially with practice. By the end of the third week's session, Crabbe reported that even his freakishly thick, if average length, cock had been immediately swallowed down into an incredibly tight throat.
"It was amazing, like hot, and wet, and really gripping. I said I was going to come and she just held her lips right on until I finished!"
Word soon reached the ears of saner Hogwarts faculty members. They added their own speculations and increasingly wild theories,
"I heard they thought it was Bulstrode, but when they shouted they'd brought bags of food she still didn't come out."
"What if it's one of us? Trelawney is mad enough!"
"I heard her cloak covers her so completely that even Myrtle doesn't know her face!"
Yet Myrtle was involved from the start. Later, she assisted unknown person by interfering with those few eager enough attempt forced entry in search of a name. Though the cubicle was engaged for the same period each week, none had been able to confirm who she might be from counting other girls amidst Hogwarts' rambling corridors.
As it was generally seen as harmless fun (at Hogwarts, unharmless fun left holes which smoked), nobody was too keen to get involved and put a stop to it. It wasn't as if the thirsty minx in question would be getting pregnant from the experience. The assumption was that the matter would blow over if they didn't intervene, but could lead to copycats or worse escalations if they proscribed it. That attitude prevailed until whispered gossip twice interrupted Professor Snape while he was engaged in the instruction of students. On furiously regaining control of his wayward class, he resolved immediately to mix an obscure potion. If not nullified by Polyjuice, it would've been considerably more useful to wizards: When ingested the unfortunate drinker was forced to divulge their true name.
The next time the cubicle was occupied, Draco as ever headed up the queue. Knees trembling and eyes rolled, he had to be helped away by his cronies after the most intense climax of his life. He'd grown used to Myrtle's affectionate giggles while he gurned and grunted.
"That thing... with the tongue..." he managed, just as the door opened.
Snape entered. He walked past the line of boys who collectively suddenly wished to be elsewhere. They knew there was never a good time to be caught in a girls lavatory at school. Even Myrtle was temporarily silenced. Snape simply flicked his hand towards the door. As they tumbled out hurriedly he smoothly drew his own penis from within his robes. Myrtle gasped, for in matters of proportion, shape, even skin texture, Snape's organ was the one thing of physical beauty about the greasy haired, sour faced, potions master.
He stood before the recently used hole. It remained spattered and splashed by those boys who didn't manage to finish between slurping lips or perhaps across a hooded face. Snape's cock stiffened as if with the determination he felt. His height meant he had to angle it downwards, but welcoming lips accepted him with a slight tilt of the hood.
His eyes widened. It was amazing. Snape's forehead left a sweaty imprint against the wood as he humped forcefully through the hole. He genuinely doubted any of the staff or students possessed such skill in the art of pleasure. An old fantasy of Lily Potter surfaced. Snape's entire body trembled under the onslaught. He'd been behind many a metaphorical tongue-lashing, but the sensual equivalent was entirely heavenly in comparison.
It was only as he felt his balls tighten up that he recalled the purpose of his visit was not merely to ejaculate. Tugging a vial from his robe, he poured the contents down his shaft just as he pulled back from that exquisite throat, and came across the tongue. The mixture of potion and spunk was eagerly swallowed with loud gulps. It worked quickly.
"Harry James Potter," came the undoubtedly male voice of the mysterious cocksucker.
"So," panted Snape, "the quedam was a quidam!"
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A/N: Story written for prompt Quidam. This is a Latin (later French) term. Not just the title of a Cirque Du Soleil show! It's apparantly used only rarely as a direct borrow word in English, especially by 16th and 17th century writers (or so the writer BronxWench's research showed me. Thanks again for the assistance!) and presumably by any other pompous ass with a desire to sprinkle Latin or French into their writings. C'est la vie. So, Definition here is 'Somebody; one unknown...' while my latin grammar vocab/grammar shows 'quidam' means 'a certain,' with the masculine form being 'a certain man' and so the feminine nominative 'quedam' (being gratuitously and un-grammatically misused by a therefore hideously out of character Snape) indicates 'a certain women'.