Tadgers Ahoy!

With a wooden leg, and two regular legs, Captain Twanger looked out upon the calm sea, his owl companion perched on his shoulder much like a parrot. Sighing in satisfaction at the white foam upon the water, he zipped up his pants, took a letter out of his pocket, and handed said scroll to his owl lover. The owl, hooting drunkenly as it was a pirate-- and pirates are always drunk--, flew off into the sunset, never to return again… or until tomorrow, maybe. Depending on how it was feeling. You know.


"I am so angry right now." Harry stated at breakfast one fine and sunny morning. It was about 90 degrees, he reckoned, since Hermione was wearing a tube top and no panties.

"Sdfiofgui?" Ron said around a mouthful. Of sausage. The food kind, not the man kind. That was last night.

"No, Ron, I've told you before. I can't have a wank to relieve myself of my frustrations."

At the word wank, Hermione's ears perked up. Hermione had a bad case of penis envy, you see. Ever since she was a little girl of about 15, and first heard what a "penis" was, she had wanted one. It was like having an extra magic wand, and Hermione felt that wasn't very fair that girls didn't have one. She had begun a crusade much like S.P.E.W entitled "Women for Attaining New Genitalia", or W.A.N.G. She never could figure out why Ron made a face when she abbreviated her new cause. She was wondering if he wasn't just debating whether to join or not. In any case, Hermione had created a spell and cast it upon herself to be alerted whenever supposed "strictly male" conversation occurred, so that she could butt in and show she didn't know what she was talking about. She was very witches-rights.

"Talking about wanking, I see? Yes, wanking is very natural, and is not restricted to just those of us who have penises." Hermione said with a huff.

"You don't have a penis, Hermione!" Ron said, spitting out his sausage and pooping himself.

"You don't either, Ron!" Hermione cried, and ran to the girls lavatory to sob and make-out with a troll, a.k.a. Viktor Krum.

"Um, hello, we were talking about me?" Harry said, rolling his eyes, waggling his fingers, and throwing his head back. Ron could never figure out why he suddenly had the urge to try some of Harry's sausage when the Boy-Who-Lived did that. The sausage off of Harry's breakfast plate, that is. Ron was strictly asexual.

"Sorry, Harry. Anyway, I've always wondered… why can't you wank? I mean, I don't have anything down there, but you do! I've seen you in the shower."

Harry would have been creeped out more if Ron had a penis. Or a vagina. Or brains.

"I can't tell you Ron." Harry sighed deeply, picking at his eggs. Pushing his pet chicken out of the way, Harry then started eating the eggs on his plate.

"Oh, is it part of the… what's it called again? Phallic Sea?"

"You mean 'Prophecy', Ron? There's no such thing as the Phallic Sea, I don't know how many times Hermione has to tell you. She definitely looked it up, because she wanted to live there." Harry said, flobberwormed and flabbergasted.

But as these words left his mouth, a purple owl flew into the Great Hall, perching on Harry's shoulder and drunkenly hiccupping. Sticking out its leg with the letter attached was too much for the owl to do in its state of inebriation, and so it fell off and died. I mean dyed. Its feathers. A lighter shade of purple for the summer.

"What's this?" Harry wondered aloud, holding the letter in different ways in the light to try and figure it out.

Hermione, who had returned with Viktor Krum's Pomegranate Pink lipstick smeared all over her face, looked at Harry with a little disgust. "It's a letter, Harry."

"Oh!" Harry shouted unnecessarily loud. This time the owl really did die. I mean dye-- the dye before was semi-permanent… now it was using demi-permanent.

Opening the letter, Harry quickly scanned the paper. Hmm, no pictures. Tossing the letter to the side in boredom, Harry didn't stop Hermione, who quickly snatched the parchment up and actually read it.

"Harry! Did you read this?! You've just been invited to go aboard a pirate ship on the Phallic Sea!"

"Holy shit, Hermione, if you mention the Phallic Sea one more time…" But even as he said this and flicked off Hermione, Harry grabbed the letter and read the postscript. "What's this? 'P.S. This letter is a portkey and will transport you in 5...4...'."

And with that, Harry disappeared from the Great Hall.

"Well fuck!" Ron yelled loudly in surprise.

"I know, Ron. Who knew that was a portkey!" Hermione said.

"What? Portkey? I was just realizing that us eating sausages was blatantly a sexual innuendo!"


"Ahoy there, matey!" Shouted Captain Twanger to Harry from across the poop-deck.

"This is disgusting." Harry said, sludging his way towards the distinguished looking pirate captain. And by distinguished, he meant rugged, shirtless, and with a patch over his eye.

"Ah, yes, well. We all had some issues with what the cook made last night; I apologize. But welcome aboard the Tadger! I am Captain Twanger, the fiercest pirate on the Phallic Sea!"

"Um… thanks. I'm Harry."

Captain Twanger eyed Harry appraisingly. "Ah, yeah, you are a bit hairy. Particularly around your nips."

Looking down, Harry squeaked in surprise. "Where'd my shirt go?! And why am I wearing a loin cloth?"

"Hmm. Must be part of the spell. My leader spelled the letter to bring you to our ship. He was very insistent that you come onto his Tadger."

"Wait, what?" Harry questioned.

"His pride and joy. His Tadger. You know, this ship."

"Oh… and leader? I thought you were the captain?"

"Er, I don't think I was supposed to tell you that… Anyway. Welcome aboard. Have a look around-- you're meant to have free reign over the ship." Said Captain Twanger.

"But, why am I here?" Harry pouted, placing his hands over his nipples. He was still stung by the "hairy" comments.

"I dunno… I'm sure you'll figure it out. Besides, you look stressed. What's a better way to relieve stress and frustration than come aboard a dirty pirate ship in the Phallic Sea? And by come, I mean…"

Covering his ears, humming, and closing his eyes, Harry wandered away from the perverted captain.


After awhile, Harry figured it'd be a good thing to walk around without his eyes closed, as he was on a ship out at sea. Upon opening his eyes, however, Harry instantly regretted his decision. He had wandered into the hull of the ship, where the rest of the ship's all-male crew was stationed.

And they were completely naked.

Harry now understood the reasoning for the name of the ship.

"Ahoy there!" Said one of the crew-members. He was a tall, black man with a long white beard and half-moon shaped spectacles. Harry had a funny feeling they had met. He also had a funny feeling when he looked down at the man's nakedness.

"Uh… sorry… I should go." Harry said uncomfortably. He was getting uncomfortable in his very short loin cloth, and knew he would be able to do nothing about it. The Prophecy's warning rang in his head.

"Stay a while!" Drawled another crew-member, who was gawky, red-headed, and fire-crotched. Harry was getting freaked out… and turned on. If only he could wank! But the Prophecy…

"Psst, in here!" Said Captain Twanger-- who at least was wearing tight leather pants-- from what appeared to be the ship's kitchen. Bouncing past the sausage fest-- the naked men were eating hot dogs--, Harry popped into the kitchen, and shut the door behind him.

"Thanks, Captain. I was having a hard time in there." Harry said with relief.

Looking down at the burgeoning tent in Harry's loin cloth, Captain Twanger nodded. "Ah, yeah, I can see that."

Blushing, and attempting to squash his very large predicament, Harry tried to change the subject. "So you're also the ship's cook?"

Nodding, the Captain sighed and looked at Harry. "Let me mince words, Harry." The Captain said, taking some words off a Scrabble board and slicing them into a pot. "Okay, now let's not mince words… My leader brought you here under evil pretences. He's trying to fulfill the Prophecy." Captain Twanger said very seriously.

Gasping at how good little wooden tiles with letters smelled in soup, and gasping in shock at the captain's pronouncement, Harry instantly lost his erection. "How do you know about the Prophecy?" Harry asked in amazement.

Raising his head to look directly at Harry, the Captain took off his eye patch.

"Oh my goose! Oliver Wood?!" Harry exclaimed. "That was quite the disguise! I didn't even recognize you!"

"Yes, Harry, that was the point. I've been a spy here on this ship for months, and I will protect you no matter what. You see, Harry… I love y--"

At this very critical plot point, however, one of the walls of the ship's kitchen was blown off to reveal Captain Oliver Wood Twanger's leader…

Draco Malfoy!

"Malfoy!" Both Gryffindors exclaimed as a very naked Draco Malfoy walked into the expanded kitchen.

"I knew I couldn't trust you, Twanger. I must destroy Potter! Once the Prophecy is fulfilled, the Dark Lord will reign supreme over Hogwarts, and I will eat Lemon Supreme cake shaped like Harry!"

Harry was definitely squicked at this statement, and was terrified at Malfoy's knowing the Prophecy. For if the Prophecy came true…

"Not so fast, Malfoy! I will protect Harry with my life!" Oliver said, stepping in front of Harry and giving the raven-haired boy a good view of his tight, leather-clad ass. This was getting very difficult for poor, sexually frustrated Harry.

"Well, let me just whip out my wand, and we'll duel!" Draco exclaimed. "Oh wait, I'm already naked!"

"We'll duel till completion! I mean, death!" Oliver said, yanking down his pants.

"OH PLEASE, STOP IT!" Harry shouted, unable to take it any longer. Yanking his hair in agony and falling to his knees, Harry began crying. This was it. The Prophecy was about to come true-- he had fallen right into Draco's hands. "Can you please stop cupping me like that, Malfoy?" Harry whined, shifting his position away from Malfoy.

"Afraid not, Potter. I must make the Prophecy happen!"

Oliver Wood, however, kicked Malfoy away from Harry just in the knick of time. However, it was no use-- Harry once again was greeted with Oliver's wood.

"I'm so sorry, Oliver! I can't take it anymore!"

And with that, Harry ripped off his loin cloth to reveal a three foot erection.

Every eye on deck was riveted to the masterful sight of Harry's wanger.

"Damn, he's got me beat." Said the black man from earlier.

"You'd make a fair beater, Harry!" Oliver exclaimed.

Unfortunately, these comments went unnoticed to Harry, who was experiencing the Prophecy. Harry's death had been spelled by one of Trelawney's drunken predictions many years ago in a pub. The Prophecy warned that Harry would die if he ever got a hard-on. Thus, Harry had never been able to wank, and had had to fight arousal all his life-- for his penis was so large, that upon getting horny, all the blood would rush from his head straight to his wanger. Which it did. And he died.

"Noooooo!" Oliver Wood shouted in agony. He never got to tell Harry that he loved… how he played Quidditch! He had been the best seeker they had ever had! Unable to deal with the thought of a lost Quidditch Cup, Wood threw himself from the ship.

As the rest of the crew followed suit, and Draco wanked happily to killing Harry Potter, Hermione Granger appeared as she scrambled over the side of the deck.

"Finally, I made it! I could sense the gender inequality for miles. This ship should be friendly to all sexes!"

"Oh, but it is, baby." Draco said, winking and continuing to wank. "Butt sex, kinky sex… you name it."

Looking around at the chaos that was happening, Hermione frowned. "Wait, the Prophecy doesn't have anything to do with Harry dying from a massive erection. This isn't canon!"

"No, but this is one!" Said Ginny from behind her, before igniting one of the ship's canons right up Hermione's…

The End!


Note: This was really bad. I hate myself. But I love you KP and Jessie!