The Benefits of Naivety

The Benefits of naivety

2. The noose around his neck

Harry stared at the giggling mermaid above, face flushed. Someone would have mistaken him as overheated, even though he was submerged neck deep in the humongous tub…but they would be dead wrong. An odd sound escaped his throat, the colorful bubbles near his body moving rapidly.

“Whoa… Harry? Is that you?” the shrill voice made him jump, his glasses slipping from his nose. “What are you doing in the prefect’s bathroom?”

He whirled around, eyes growing wide to see the pearly apparition of a teenage girl floating above the tub. “Myrtle! What… why are you here?”

“Who me?” Myrtle asked coyly before giggling like mad, following the mermaid’s caricature above. “You know…I sometime like to visit the bathrooms… to see if anyone is misusing them.”

“Um… excuse me?” Harry said, as she floated up next to him, causing him to lean back in panic. “Could you back off a bit? I’m not…I have got nothing down here.”

“Really?” Harry winced when she shouted that form barely a foot away. “But I can’t see anything. Why don’t you stand up, and prove it?”

The teenage ghost shrieked as the water surface broke and a blond head emerged from the depths, taking deep breaths. 

“Rita!” Harry shouted in panic. “Why the fuck did you come up?”

Wet hair clinging to her face, the famous reporter ignored him. She took in the newcomer with a smirk, waving at the ghost like an old friend, who, for some reason, had stalled her attempt at lung-bursting at the identity of the blond.

Her torso slowly emerged, glistening with some small bubbles clinging to her huge, heavy tits before she wiped them off, unintentionally (or maybe intentionally) mashing the globes together.

“Well, well, well… Myrtle, how nice of you to come here.”

“Rita…you…with Harry?” Myrtle trailed off, her silvery form turning transparent.

Harry jerked back when Rita took hold of his cock from underneath the water and hefted it above so that almost half of his length peeked outside of the surface.

“You were saying?” Rita asked Myrtle, completely ignoring his protest.

“Wow!” The breathless wonder of the ghost made him swell a little with no conscious effort. “That is the second biggest penis I have seen in all my years.”

He wasn’t sure about the slight affront he felt at the information. Considering Myrtle’s age and the amount of snooping the voyeuristic ghost must have had done.

“Seriously?” Rita kept her lazy ministration, shushing him when he groaned in discomfort at a rough tug. “I haven’t seen anything more impressive than this.”

“Yeah, I have once seen Hagrid, but his length was mostly hidden by thick bush.” Myrtle said in a matter-of-factly manner. Harry, who was trying to burrow inside the water, sputtered a mouthful after hearing unnecessary details about his large friend and Rita also seemed equally disgusted by her snort. 

“Let’s stick to humans, shall we?” Rita said, rolling her eyes at the blushing teenager ghost. “And you can stay and watch. Harry is a wonderful lover, which I’m sure he would like to prove.” The busty blond purred.

“Absolutely not!” Harry gathered enough courage to mount a proper protest. “I’m not comfortable with this. She could mistakenly reveal about us to someone and Headmaster is already suspicious of me.”

“Really, Harry?” Rita stood up from the tub, her long legs similarly wet like her torso. She turned around, thrusting her big bubble butt in his face before slowly sauntering out of the tub, all those mature fat in her arse jiggling and wobbling like jelly. “You will deprive a young ghost of her only joy? Just think about it—dying by accident while you have just entered womanhood and getting stuck in between hundreds of horny teenagers for decades with all that frustration boiled inside. Can you think of any severe punishment for a witch?”

Rita’s words made him swallow. The notion of ghosts trapped in a perpetual state between life and death had never entered his mind before. The thought of these spirits being stripped of all human emotions, unable to experience the simple joys that everyone else took for granted, sent a shiver down his spine. And if, by chance, the ghost happened to be someone his own age...

“And you don’t have to worry about her revealing our activities. It’s not the first time she will keep one of my secrets, isn’t it, Myrtle?”

The ghost bobbed her head, her eyes looking magnified beneath her thick glasses. 

“Now be a good boy and come here.” Rita summoned one of the fluffy towels from the rack and spread it on the bathroom floor. Harry wondered for a moment about the necessity of her action when she got on her hands and knees, thrusting her butt in his direction. “Hurry, didn’t you mention about visiting Hogsmeade with you friend this afternoon?”

A stronger male would have complained and remained firm in his stance, but Harry was a recently deflowered teenage boy hooked on the mature body of the busty woman. He could barely think of anything except Rita’s touch and the feel of her pussy around his cock, and he was certain of doing everything possible to keep that immoral relationship going as long as possible. Even if a creepy ghost watched him have sex with the reporter from a few feet away.

With burning cheeks, he stood up, his dick wet and hard, and got out of the tub, getting in behind the blond like an obedient student.

“Oh my, you have him completely trained.” Rita’s laughter followed Myrtle’s gloating. The air was filled with their amusement, with the scented bubbles still clinging to their bodies, making his nose twitch. “It’s like he can’t think about anything except having sex with you.”

Harry impotently glared at the smirking ghost, whose entire demeanor had done a complete one-eighty in the last few minutes.

“You have seen nothing yet, Myrtle.” Rita rested her cheeks against the towel and spread her ass apart with her hands. “Harry dear, see how my holes are wet and needy for you? See them weep for your cock?”

Harry groaned from the back of his throat. “Oh Merlin! Yes! I can see that.” His knees collided with the floor as he got behind her and angled his cock to the red lips that were spread wide open.

“Not so fast, lover boy,” Rita said, tilting her ass away the moment he tried to force his cock inside her inviting pussy. “You remember our deal, don’t you?”

Harry gnashed his teeth. The knowledge of the second year, especially the location of the Chamber and the monster underneath, was known to just a few people: Headmaster and the Weasley family plus Hermione. Now that there was the possibility of the entire wizarding world knowing about it—Headmaster’s warning became clear in his mind. 

Just as he was gathering enough willpower to stay strong in the face of the blond reporter’s teasing, she shook her booty, her pussy lips spread wide open, a clear liquid of her arousal seeping from the petals.

Fuck!

His body shook, his cock getting so taut that the vein flared as if they were trying to burst out of his skin—the heady feeling of arousal too much to handle in his age.

“Fuck It!” Harry snapped his hips forward, his cockhead colliding against her fat lips. “Damn it, Rita, just get on with your work!”

Now familiar sound of Quill and paper came from somewhere in his vicinity and he started regaling the sorry details of his second year while Rita took hold of his cock and pushed the fat appendage to her squirming hole.

“Good boy,” she whined hard when most of his length forced their way inside her. “Keep giving me those juicy details and keep fucking my juicy ass.”

“His cock looks so big going inside you, Rita?” Myrtle floated to Rita’s side, her eyes glued to their joined parts. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

Harry snorted at the childish pout on the conniving ghost’s face. Myrtle, the perverted ghost, had undoubtedly witnessed countless intimate encounters within these very walls, yet here she was, playfully portraying a mix of innocence and curiosity.

“HURT….Right there, Harry, right there. Keep hitting that spot!” Rita’s body jarred forward as he angled his cock and lurched, the blunt dome of his massive monster touching her most sensitive nerves. “It hurts like fucking mad but also feels so goooood….”

His anger flared after retelling the story of his ostracization and getting found out as a parselmouth. Teeth bared, he took hold of her shoulders and hunkered down, dragging her entire body in his thrusts.

“MORGANA’S CUNT!” Rita hollered, and only the knowledge of the dozens of privacy charms gave him enough courage to continue drilling into the naughty reporter.

“He’s fucking you even harder than the Prewitt brothers combined.” There was wonderment in Myrtle’s voice. 

“HNNNGGGH!” Rita’s reply was unintelligible, her face pressed into the towel.

“Ron’s uncles?” The new information was enough of a shocker that he stopped his monologue of his second year, the quill halting its scratching. “You slept with Mrs. Weasley’s brothers?”

“Only them?” That obnoxious cackling of Myrtle was unbearable this time. “Harry…Rita here has slept with dozens of wizards during her time here. How did you think she snooped for her rumors?”

A burning started in his chest. He hadn’t thought about the blond’s previous relationships till then, but with the new knowledge of her promiscuousness, an angry, jealous beast suddenly erupted inside him. 

This slut!

He should have realized that the blond was too comfortable in his bed for it to be her first time in the Gryffindor dorms.

Taking hold of her wet hair in his hand and dragging her head back, Harry channeled his anger into his thrusts, his hips clapping against her fat arse as he drilled into the sloppy hole.

“UNGGGHH?” Rita kept babbling, spittle flying from her open mouth, but Harry’s cock reached a new level of savagery, continuing his pounding without a care of the blond’s well being or her pleasure.

Her entire body shook, curves jiggling as she made a keening noise from her throat, her cunt passage turning into a hot, angry furnace.

Harry’s own orgasm rushed to the forefront, what with her earlier underwater blowjob and now this incredible feeling of being massaged by her pussy muscles.

“Fuck! I’m coming! I’m going to cum inside you.” Harry groaned, “Let’s see you deal with my spunk.”

“Pull out!” Rita finally gasped out, her eyes bloodshot as she turned to look at him. “Today’s not a safe day…Please pull out!” 

“Not my problem.” He enjoyed her panic, not thinking about the consequences in his lust addled mind.

“OH…he’s going to give you a baby, Rita. How sweet.”

The blond reporter grimaced, pleading for a last time, “Please…I’m not sure about the charm working today.” Before her voice tapered down, eyes rolling in the back of her head.

“Harry! Fuck!”

“Damn it!” With a roar like a lion, Harry’s cock turned into a cannon, jettisoning rope after rope of hot cum inside the squirming witch, who groaned emitting a sound similar to a dying goat.

He twisted his hips, keeping the pleasure going as long as possible, enjoying the way her pussy refused to release their death grip of his thickness.

More than a minute later, she thumped into the towel, her grip loosening over his cock, and Harry stuttered back, wiping the sweat from his brows.

There was only tired panting in the prefect’s bathroom for the next five minutes as Harry and Rita cooled down, with only the silvery ghost zooming around the large room, almost vibrating with enthusiasm.

His stare was on the open petals of Rita’s pussy, blood flowing into his semi-soft cock after seeing his cum slowly seeping from the messed up folds.

She turned around, now lying on her back, and stroked her folds, lathering his release around her crotch. The vision was arousing, with her red nipples bared, tits quivering and pussy properly fucked, and his dick agreed, rapidly reaching its pre-orgasm state.

A wave of her wand brought her notepad, and she grimaced, looking at what her quick-quoted quill had jolted down.

The tiredness slowly vanished from her eyes. She bit her lips, putting the notebook down and waving her wand over the quill. Harry gulped when she took hold of her thick thighs and dragged them to her torso, pushing her large tits together, making her gumdrop nipples almost touch each other. 

Her sloppy folds opened slightly at the new position, the deep pink of her insides looking delectable and inviting.

“Now that you have done with your rebellion, why don’t you come here and be a good boy?” She tweaked her nipples. The wetness from their long soak had evaporated a bit, but still the large enticing funbags glistened, making their enormous size appear even more huge. “Start from the camera boy’s petrification and if you come clean fully, then maybe I will gift you my other hole.” She smiled coyly, presenting that hole in prominence. “I have barely let anyone touch that place.”

Oh no! The view was enticing enough, but the added promise…

He stumbled ahead in his eagerness, mouth going for those perfect breasts while she stroked his hair lovingly. 

“Yes, Harry…Now that you have cum inside me once, no point in stopping at once, is it?”

“Mmmph…” He mouthed out with a face full of tits.

His cock flopped against her belly, which she angled toward her pussy, the loosed lips of her cunt spreading apart in the face of their now familiar invitee.

“Damn…he is even more whipped to you than Selwyn heir in your seventh year, isn’t he?”

As a mocking laugh echoed in the ornate bathroom, resonating through the air, Harry’s face turned crimson, his body quivering with anticipation. His pulse quickened, feeling his cock twitching with an insistent desire to be buried deep inside the blond.

Damn It, Myrtle!

-oOo-

“Have you…has Ron spoken to you yet?” Hermione asked, eying him discreetly. “Maybe he will come around if you tried?”

Harry refrained from blurting out the first thing in his mind—that his redheaded friend could sod off for all he cared. Hermione was genuinely remorseful when she had come back to him after the story about his childhood, bawling her eyes out and repeatedly apologising for not doing enough. 

No amount of comforting had stalled her attempt to soak his shirt with her tears. 

Harry had somehow mollified her with enough reassurances. Their earlier estrangement wiped away with no conscious effort on their parts. 

Though Harry had noticed her not mentioning anything about the last few weeks.

Then why did she have to bring that up now? 

The fourth champion of the Tri-wizard cup lengthened his strides, carefully avoiding the eyes of her companion and the other Hogsmeade stragglers. The scattered badgers among the village seemed especially mutinous, what with them sending open glares when they thought he wasn’t looking at them. What? Were they angry that he had showed up in the Hogsmeade weekend, not moping in some hole in the castle?

“Harry?” Hermione’s pleading made him grimace. He returned to his previous measured steps as he saw his bushy-haired friend panting while trying to keep up with him.

“I will not go there and beg him to forgive me, Hermione. Certainly not when I have done nothing wrong,” Harry said, turning and facing her front on. “If he wants to think of me as a cheater and keep his distance, then good for him. At least now I can eat without his disgusting habit of open mouth chewing killing my appetite.”

Hermione’s pale cheeks reddened at his words. Well, she had been the more vocal of them about Ron’s eating habits, so she can’t even deny his words. When she opened her mouth, he raised his hand, stalling her.

“We could enjoy this beautiful weather and have fun or we could talk about an insecure prat who left me for the wolves during my time of need.” Harry said, hearing her mouth closing with an audible click. “But rest assured, Hermione, if you insist on mending whatever imaginary grievance he has with me, you could look for him. I have heard he was coming with Dean and Seamus.”

Hermione stared at the ground, as if she had been just reprimanded by a teacher, making him wince. For Merlin’s sake. He really didn’t want to ruin the good mood a certain reporter had put him in.

“Just leave him for the time being, all right?” Harry closed the distance between them and gave her a side hug. “I have heard Madam Rosemerta serving some exotic Dragon meat to his customers. Let’s have a taste!”

“Gross!” Hermione flinched back, staring at him in disgust. “I still can’t believe wizards eat such disgusting things. And what about you?” When Harry stared at her uncomprehendingly, she smacked him in the chest. “You grew up in the normal world like me.” Harry shrugged. “Then why don’t you stop emulating those horrible practices? Dragon meat? Seriously? Next I will hear they probably eat troll intestine or something.”

“I overheard someone claiming that trolls have a flavor similar to chicken. Maybe we could check if it is the truth?”

“Harry!” Hermione shrieked, chasing him while he ran away, laughing, straight at the three broomsticks.

With Hermione back and a certain blond hounding him, life was finally looking brighter. Nothing could go wrong today.

 -oOo-

“Will you please turn that frown upside down?” Harry said, chuckling as she huffed. “You wouldn’t want everyone to think I’m a terrible companion, would you?”

“I can’t believe you really ordered that!”

Harry looked around the bustling pub, taking particular stock of the Slytherins huddled at the corner, with Malfoy glaring at him, like always. Though he blanched when he saw what was the dish currently in front of the blond. Hopefully Hermione wouldn’t look in that direction…

“Oh, wow! Look who have you started mimicking.” Hermione’s said with a deadpan. “Why don’t you go there and shake his hand as well?”

Harry’s gaze shifted towards the bustling bar, contemplating if he should change his order. A blush crept up his cheeks as his attention was caught by the enchanting Madam Rosemerta, the object of desire for every Hogwarts male student. As she leaned forward to serve a bewildered third-year boy, her ample bosom threatened to spill out of her snug, blue bodice. Harry squirmed in his seat, adjusting his trousers before anyone noticed his stiffy.

“Is she serving alcohol to the students?” Hermione muttered distastefully while glaring at the busty barmaid who was now flirting with three seventh year boys. “I can’t believe Hogwarts allows that!”

“They are of age, Hermione. And might I remind you, so are we.” 

“Of course, you don’t want to hear anything about that skank. Just like every other boy.” Harry rubbed his neck, almost missing her next mumbling. “Just like Ron.”

Clearing his throat, Harry dragged her attention to more worthwhile things, like asking her if she had done any research about the Tri-wizard in the last few weeks. And like a switch being flipped, her entire demeanor changed. She sat up straight, the beautiful caramel-hued eyes bright.

“Of course I did!” she said, clearly affronted. “The earlier tournaments were all focused on—”

Harry tuned her out, doing an admirable job of pretending to listen while he twirled the shiny silvery spoon in his hands, angling it this way and that, so it followed the stacked barmaid flittering between her customers. His eyes were downcast, though it would have hardly mattered as Hermione was in her own world, listing names of books and articles she had checked for any relevant news about the past tournaments.

“—and then ICW decided the proper test of champions could be held just after they tried to kill each other—”

The spoon cluttered from his hand when the reflection of the gorgeous older blond sauntered their way; swaying her childbearing hips, tits wobbling and a tray in her hand. His mouth opened unknowingly, causing Hermione to stop her monologue.

“Well, here are your orders,” Madam Rosemerta put the vegetable salad in front of Hermione before pushing a butterbeer can her way. “And for you—my champion—the sautéed Dragon liver with asparagus… and plenty of my love.” She purred as she gently put the meat-laden plate in front of him. 

“Th…Thanks…” Harry cursed himself for stuttering. His eyes grew wide when she leaned forward, almost barring her entire cleavage to him. Was that — Harry focused with all his might, trying to somehow will the daring light-colored blouse to ride a bit lower and reveal more than the slight hint of pink areolas peeking from behind.

“I know you asked for just meat,” madam Rosemerta bit her lips, sky-blue eyes looking at him coyly. “But I gave you the special liver portion. Hope you don’t mind?”

“Umm…why?” 

Stupid! Fucking stupid! Why was he questioning her choice? 

“My champion… Don’t you know Dragon Liver makes someone’s magic stronger?” Harry shook his head, glancing at the dark organ meat before quickly focusing on the more appealing thing. Well, things. “You will need all the power when you compete with others.”

Please stay for a little longer…

He couldn’t confess what his heart was crying for, grumbling inside, when she finally straightened and turned around. 

“Oh! Did I mention?” She whirled around dramatically, her long blond hair flinging from the motion. “Dragon Liver also supposedly enhances stamina,” she winked exaggeratedly. “I am sure you will need that after winning the tournament.”

Harry gaped, staring after her bulging arse as she swaggered to the front of the pub.

“Wow.” He breathed, sliding forward in his seat so nobody could see the massive tent of his trouser.

“Disgusting!” Hermione ejaculated, swiping her fork angrily in her spinach. “A woman of that age flirting with teenagers!”

“What’s disgusting about her?” Harry asked, his tone hardening. “And she is hardly that old.”

Hermione’s eyes widened, fixed on him as if he had grown a grotesque horn. Then, her gaze shifted to the dark, unappetizing slices of meat on his plate. A mixture of disbelief and disapproval filled the air as she spoke, her voice laced with incredulity. “Please tell me you’re not actually going to eat that.”

Rather than answering her, Harry skewered a slice and put it inside his mouth. 

“First Ron eating like a pig, then you eating things that even a pig would steer clear of,” Hermione’s snort got swallowed by his chewing. “I should look for more friends.”

“Yes, you should, Granger.” Harry swallowed his mouthful, not looking toward the sudden butting in of his nemesis from Slytherin. “I thought you have used that big brain of yours and ditched Potter and his cheating ass. But clearly I gave you more credit.”

A lumpy shadow fell over their table. The bright sunlight from the open windows got eclipsed by a few brain-dead morons.

“Malfoy… We’re… eating,” Hermione ground out, her words oozing with disdain. “Please, just leave us be.”

“Eating?” Malfoy’s cronies chortled obnoxiously, forcing him to look up from his meal. “Eating what? Rabbit food?”

Oh shit! Harry gulped as Hermione fisted the fork. He remembered well the punch that she had delivered to the ponce’s face last year; but clearly the blond fool had forgotten about it. And insulting her food choice—Harry winced, remembering about dragging Ron to the Hospital wing after he had similarly made fun of her healthy eating habits. 

‘C’mon mione, why don’t you try these pork chops and chicken drumsticks? Maybe you don’t have big breasts like the others because you keep eating those leaves and vegetables.’

“Sod off, Malfoy.” Harry said, crossing his fingers under the table. He breathed a sigh of relief when the blond turned toward him, leaving Hermione alone. For the time being. “Nobody’s asking your stupid self about your opinion here.”

“Cheater Potter,” gloated Malfoy, a smug expression on his pale, pointed face as he flaunted the badges pinned to his chest. “Finally emerging from whatever hole you had buried yourself in. It’s a pity. I thought you were too embarrassed to reveal your hideous scar anytime soon.”

“That was hurtful the first time I heard it.” Harry measured up Crabbe, Goyle and Zabini standing behind the ponce, as if guarding him. Which probably was true, what with Malfoy’s penchant to mouth off to everybody. His lips twitched as he saw the blond had pinned another of those stupid badges over his shirt. Just at the left of his chest, directly over the Slytherin symbol.

“What’s this?” He rightly pointed out his finding. “Putting my photo over your heart. I am flattered Draco, I really am; but it’s a shame that I just don’t have such inclinations.”

Draco flushed, getting the insinuation rather quickly. His jaw tightened before he leaned toward him. His eyes went to his plate and his unfinished lunch, a sick grin twisting his pale features. “Enjoy your meal while you can, Potter. I doubt there will be many such occasions.”

And with a final smirk in his way, he turned around and strode out of the pub, his companions following their leader after glaring at him.

Harry snorted at their childish attempt at intimidation. Maybe Malfoy should ask his head of the house or, better yet, his father’s old master for lessons.

“That jackass!” Hermione’s angry muttering brought him out of his musing. His bushy haired friend kept stabbing her vegetable with a viciousness that was frightening and Harry was doubly relieved about aborting whatever impulsive action Hermione would have meted out to Malfoy. As much as she badgered him and Ron about their reckless ways, Hermione could be even more impulsive when she felt rightly slighted.

Shaking his head, Harry focused on the exotic meat in front of him. The taste was odd, but that might be because he was having it for the first time. 

Harry ignored Hermione’s disgusted snort, focusing more on Madam Rosemerta’s departing remarks. Could Dragon liver really increase magical potential? Or what about the second part of her assertion? About the stamina of the wizards?

A small tingle started at his legs, gradually spreading along his thighs. Was it working already? Was it the increase in his magic?

Hermione said something which didn’t reach his ears, the tingling quickly roaring into an uncomfortable burning all over the body. He grimaced, tongue feeling swollen to the triple of their normal size. 

What was going on?

He blinked behind his glasses, his vision darkening with alarming speed. With Hermione’s panicked expression being the last thing registering in his mind, Harry Potter lost all feeling of his body, surrendering himself to the sweet embrace of unconsciousness.