Horny at Hogwarts

Chapter 1: Detention

Last summer, there were many ways I expected my sixth year at Hogwarts to go, but none of my wildest dreams even got close to the real thing. I recall putting on my green and black Slytherin robes over my knee high socks and tiny skirt that barely covered my ass, knowing that it was the second last time I would ever run through the wall to the platform, travel to school on the Hogwarts Express, witness the sorting ceremony. That year was bound to be special from the start.

It was the first year that the famous Harry Potter was at Hogwarts, and yet, as the months marched steadily onwards I found myself directing my focus not at the young celebrity in our midst, but instead at someone else entirely.

It all started in June. One month to the end of school. Up until then, I had spent my time pouring my heart and soul into my schoolwork, determined to achieve good grades in the leadup to my O.W.Ls next year. That was until it all came crashing down. Before I realised my true feelings.

That particular day, myself and my best friend, Angie, were feeling reckless. We saw our time at Hogwarts slipping away from us faster than we could blink, and we were determined to make our last month before seventh year count. And so we did it, constructing a careless and sloppy plan, not thinking twice about how we would pull it off. And yet I'm so glad that we got caught, because that one small failure set everything in motion.

We split up, and whilst Angie promised to cause a distraction elsewhere, I was busy planting dungbombs outside his office. That old bastard, the sworn enemy of all students at Hogwarts. We were determined to get him back for the years of misery. But it backfired in the most splendid way imaginable.

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Pumped full of excitement and glee, I plant the final dungbomb outside his door. Serves him right, the crusty old fuck. He's attempted to ruin the lives of every student under his roof, and it's time he got a taste of his own medicine. I straighten up, nearly bursting with wicked delight, when suddenly I feel something brush my thicc ass, hear a ragged breath barely released over my shoulder. I swing around, and to my horror, I find myself face to face with the stanky goblin himself. His expression is one of contorted anger, lines drawn over every inch of leathery flesh, hair hanging more lank than usual in damp waves around his face. But his eyes say only one thing. Bang me.

"Get in the office," He growls seductively, not breaking eye contact. I almost don't register his words, finding myself so lost in his filmy, watered down eyes. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, before following his tall, scrawny frame into the office.

Inside, I see that he's gone for a real homicidal maniac sort of aesthetic, with chains hanging on the walls and creepy bits and bobs scattered about the minimalist style room. I can't help but be drawn to it, wondering what he could've used those chains for. I love a bad boy.

He draws a deep, rattling breath before talking. I perch myself on the three legged stool sitting at one end of the table, and he sits at the opposite end. I want to avert my eyes, but can't. Stop being so obvious, I chastise myself, eventually managing to shift my gaze instead to the floor.

"I know you were planting dung bombs, miss Y/S." I feel my heart leap at these words. He knows my name. I'm painfully aware that I've never been in his company like this before. It's so different to how I always imagined it.

"I was sir," I respond, unable to deny it.

"I think," He begins, pausing for an aggressive coughing fit which lasts a rather extended period of time. During these minutes I attempt to locate a glass of water somewhere in the office, eventually realising my best bet it to tip some of the rancid juice from a pickled slug jar on the shelf down his throat, then realising that first impressions matter, and that I'm better off letting him die than doing that. Eventually, after coughing something slimy into an even slimier hanky he took out of his pocket, he continues his sentence.