Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/306148.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Harry_Potter/Ron_Weasley
  Character:
      Harry_Potter, Ron_Weasley, Vincent_Crabbe, Gregory_Goyle
  Additional Tags:
      Polyjuice_Potion, Masturbation, Mutual_Masturbation
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-12-28 Words: 1946
****** Know thy Enemy ******
by Donna_Immaculata
Summary
     Polyjuiced into Crabbe and Goyle, Harry and Ron get distracted on
     their way to the Slytherin common room. Set during CoS.
"What d'you think is the matter with her?" Ron had asked the question in a
hushed, concerned tone, but the low grumblings of Crabbe's voice stopped Harry
in his steps.
"Dunno," he said, and startled when the words left his mouth as a hoarse rasp.
"Probably too embarrassed to show Millicent's ugly face in public." Ron gave an
odd grunt at that, and Harry shot him a worried glance, before he realised that
Ron was, in fact, laughing.
Ron saw him looking. "What?"
"Nothing."
"You're gaping."
"That's not me. It's Goyle. I'm looking."
"Oh. All right then.
Having descended the marble staircase, they looked around hesitantly. There was
nobody around.
"Any ideas?" Harry asked.
"The Slytherins always come up to breakfast from over there." Ron nodded at the
entrance to the dungeons, from where a girl with long curly hair and a very
pretty face appeared. Ron stomped towards her.
"Excuse me," he said, "we've forgotten the way to our common room."
She looked down her nose at him and Harry could not help noticing that she had
very beautiful dark eyes. The thought had hardly formed in his mind, when he
felt a sudden jolt in the area of his groin. He shifted his gaze away from her
face and his eyes fell on her chest. There was another jolt, stronger now, and
Harry's groin felt as though someone had squeezed his crotch with a warm hand.
He gasped, feeling himself blush and break out in sweat.
"Listen, you all right?" Ron asked. It was very odd having Crabbe stand right
before him, eyeing him closely with a very human expression on his face.
"Wha-" Harry croaked. He broke off and cleared his throat. "What did she say?"
"Weren't you listening? She's in Ravenclaw." Ron kept staring at him, and Harry
felt himself turning hotter and hotter still, and the feeling in his pants was
getting really uncomfortable. In order to mask his confusion, he turned away
from Ron to look after the girl, but it only served to make him notice how long
her legs were and how her hips were swaying when she walked. Her hair was
swaying, too, and Harry's hands itched to touch it.
"Harry, you look really ill. Is it the Polyjuice? It must be the Polyjuice-
There was something wrong with it- You've got to go to see Madam Pomfrey- Oh,
I'll kill Hermione!" Ron said it all very hurriedly and he started to pull
Harry away from the entrance to the dungeons and back upstairs, but Harry freed
his sleeve from Ron's grip.
"No, it's-" he looked down at Goyle's enormous hands. They were shaking
slightly. They were tingling funnily, and Harry blushed even more when he
realised what it was his hands wanted to do.
"What?" Ron breathed in Crabbe's voice.
"Ron," said Harry desperately. "Ron, it's… started!"
"Wha-" Ron began, but Harry made a jerky movement, pointing at his crotch, and
Ron's eyes widened.
"You mean…?" he rasped. "Harry-"
"I know!" Harry moaned. He thrust Goyle's hands into his pockets. "Why now? I
thought it all happened, y'know, at night. During sleep."
"Yeah, well," said Ron. "Maybe, y'know, it's because you're in Goyle's body,
and he's, er, bigger and probably more mature-" Ron broke off, looking slightly
green. "Oh no…!"
"What?"
"I haven't thought about it… I mean, about Crabbe's… bits" Ron's face went from
green to red in a flash. "It's disgusting."
"What now?" Harry asked, increasingly desperate. "It's not going away. I can't
go to the Slytherin common room like that."
"We-ell," Ron said, slowly, and it was weird to watch Crabbe's big, stupid face
look screwed up in the agony of embarrassment. "Harry, we've got to do
something."
"What?" asked Harry, on the verge of panic.
"You've got to wank off!" said Ron, looking around frantically. "C'mon."
Crabbe's large hand grabbed around Harry's wrist, and Ron pulled him towards a
door on the right-hand side of the staircase leading to the West Tower. It was
odd, being dragged away by Crabbe, but Harry's feeling of unease was smothered
by the hot burning sensation and the uncomfortable tightness all around his
crotch. Was this really what it was all about? In that case, he didn't
understand all the fuss. It didn't feel good at all, more as though someone had
gripped his prick and were squeezing it too hard. It was also itchy and the
material of his pants was scratching against it most uncomfortably. He wanted
it to go away. When Ron and Dean were talking about it, it always sounded as
though it was the best thing in the world, having a hard-on and wanking off.
Seamus would listen enviously, and Harry had caught him once or twice in the
shower, playing with his prick. But he knew Seamus had never yet really come,
because Seamus would always check his pyjama pants for traces of spunk in the
morning, and he had never found any. He, Harry, knew that he was very small for
his age and probably much behind in his development and that it would take
years before he would catch up with the others. He had got hard before, but it
had never felt like this: now, it was as though something was really happening
inside him, inside his balls, and he cursed his luck for it to happen while he
was in Goyle's body.
"In here," Ron said and pulled Harry into a broom cupboard.
They were standing there for a few moments. Harry could hear his own breathing,
and Crabbe's sniffling. He had never before noticed that Crabbe sniffled
instead of breathing, as though his nose were permanently blocked.
"What now?" Harry asked, feeling very stupid. He was happy that the inside of
the broom cupboard was completely dark, but no sooner had he thought that, when
he heard Crabbe's voice mutter "Lumos," and the Ron's wand flickered into
light. Harry's insides clenched, and his prick gave a sudden twitch.
Staring into Crabbe's face, Harry felt absolutely sick by the idea of having to
expose his most private parts in front of the other boy. But then he realised
that he wouldn't be exposing himself. He'd be exposing Goyle.
And the moment this thought occurred, Harry was struck by a sudden idea: What
did Goyle's bits look like? He couldn't believe he was thinking this, but there
it was: he was curious to see the prick of one of the most disgusting,
appalling people he knew, and he felt a weird hot sensation rise up inside his
belly.
"All right," he said, almost eagerly, and began to unfasten Goyle's robe.
Crabbe's face twitched in horror and his mouth fell open, and Ron gaped down at
Harry's hands, which were busying themselves with the flies of Goyle's
trousers.
"That's so sick," came Crabbe's grunt from somewhere near Harry's ear.
Harry took a deep breath, clenched the waistband of Goyle's trousers so tightly
Goyle's knuckles whitened, and pushed them down. He closed his eyes for a
moment, breathing deeply, and then looked down.
He wasn't sure what he had expected, but certainly not that: His own underpants
were too small to accommodate Goyle's bulk, and they had ripped during the
transformation. Harry could see Goyle's prick poking out through a hole at the
front; it was pink and…
"Small!" rumbled Crabbe's voice. "Harry, it's tiny!"
Harry blinked. It was disgusting, the idea of touching Goyle's prick was
disgusting, but at the same time, he felt strangely compelled to do so. And it
would make the weird swollen feeling go away.
"Gryffindor courage, Gryffindor courage…" He had intended to mutter the words
under his breath, but Goyle's voice was much louder than his and carried much
more audibly. There was a very Crabbe-like grunt as Ron snorted with laughter,
but Harry didn't mind. He pushed his underpants as far down as the girth of
Goyle's thighs allowed and gripped Goyle's prick with one meaty hand. Goyle's
fingers were so short and thick that it was difficult to wrap them around the
small dick.
"Oh," Harry sighed. And, "Oh!" he repeated when he moved his hand up, and there
was a sudden contraction somewhere inside his lower belly. He moved his hand
back down, pressing his hand into the coarse, damp hair that grew all around
Goyle's prick. It felt weird, but not entirely unpleasant.
"That is so gross." Harry looked up from Goyle's prick to Crabbe's face. It was
scrunched up as though in pain, and his eyes were fixed on Goyle's hand.
Crabbe's hand was kneading Crabbe's crotch through the robes.
"Come on!" said Harry. "Do it properly!"
"You sure?" Crabbe's voice was lower than ever.
"Yeah," said Harry. "I won't feel quite as much a freak then."
"Okay," Ron said eagerly, and pushed aside Crabbe's robes. His underpants were
too small for Crabbe, too, and Crabbe's prick had got stuck under the elastic.
It was much larger than Goyle's, its head very purple. Harry's eyes widened.
"Wicked!" he muttered. Ron pushed Crabbe's underpants down his legs and stared
down at Crabbe's thick prick. It was dark and veiny and it didn't stuck out
straight, like Goyle's, but to the left.
"It's all… lopsided," said Ron. "Ew!"
"Come on!" said Harry. "Touch it!"
Crabbe's large hand took a firm hold of Crabbe's prick. Unlike Goyle's, it
didn't disappear entirely in Crabbe's hand and the purple head poked out at the
top.
"What does it feel like?" asked Harry, Goyle's prick completely forgotten in
his hand.
"Weird," said Ron. "It's all… knobbly."
"Knobbly?" Harry stared. That sounded scary.
"Yeah, look," Ron let go of Crabbe's prick. "Here. There are all these… veins.
They're like small lumps."
"Can I touch?" asked Harry.
"Okay."
Harry reached out one thick Goyle finger and prodded Crabbe's prick carefully.
It bobbed up and down, and Harry gripped to explore the thick veins standing
out against the pink skin. Ron gave a sharp hiss.
"All right?" Harry asked, and Ron nodded. "Wanna touch mine? I mean, Goyle's?"
"Okay." Crabbe's hand took a firm grip of Goyle's prick. It disappeared in it
completely. "It's so small!"
"I know!" said Harry. "That's not fair. I wish I was Crabbe!"
Ron stared at him for a moment, and then broke out in loud, rumbly laughter
that shook Crabbe's whole body. As he hadn't let go of Goyle's prick, Harry
could feel the vibrations thrumming through his body in turn, and it felt
really, really good. He moaned. Goyle's hand began stroking Crabbe's prick,
going a little bit faster with every stroke, and Ron stopped laughing abruptly.
Crabbe's eyes widened, and Crabbe's hand tightened around Goyle's prick.
Another heat wave flooded over Harry, and this time it kept going on and on,
and in the next moment, he heard Goyle's voice cry out as something inside him
clenched and snapped and he felt a hot gush of spunk shoot out of Goyle's
prick. He barely registered that Ron gave a loud grunt and that his hand on
Crabbe's prick was suddenly covered in something sticky.
Harry opened his eyes and shook his head dizzily. Crabbe's body was slumped
against the wall, his trousers gaping open and his prick hanging out, shrunken
and damp.
"Oh," Harry said weakly. "Oh wow!" Ron gave a shaky laugh.
"That was," Harry said. "It was… We should do it again some time!" The words
had left his mouth before he could check them, and he froze, horror-struck at
Ron's reaction. But Ron merely gave another shaky laugh.
"Yeah," Ron said, and Crabbe's voice had never sounded so good in Harry's ears.
"When we're ourselves again."
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