I don't own Harry Potter. I don't own rights to the Harry Potter characters. I don't own a signed, autographed copy of War and Peace. I don't own the island of Madagascar. I don't own a gun. I don't own a Swedish meatball (though I may have in the past.) I don't own an elephant. I don't own Harry Potter ... oh, wait, I already said that last one.
Harry Potter had not been having a good week.
Though he had tied with his schoolmate Cedric to win the prestigious Tri-Wizard Tournament, the final task had been nothing more than a trap by Voldemort to lure Harry out. After a harrowing fight in a graveyard, Harry had lost a friend, a bit of blood, and perhaps the protection his mother had died to provide him with. Moreover, Voldemort now had a new body, and had called his followers back to him.
While Harry had managed to escape with his life, and had even managed to bring Cedric's body back with him, the price was far too high ... especially for victory in a tournament he'd not wanted to compete in, anyway.
Once Harry was safely back at Hogwarts, Professor Dumbledore asked him to stay away from the rest of the students, until Dumbledore had a chance to let the student body of the prestigious School of Wizardry know what had happened. While Harry understood the Headmaster was trying to help him avoid the hundreds of questions the students would ask about Cedric's death and Voldemort's return, it unfortunately left Harry with far too much time to brood over what Voldemort's return would mean for the wizarding world, and how his noble intention to share the Tri-Wizard trophy with Cedric had led to the rival seeker's death.
So he'd spent two lonely days in the hospital wing, recovering from his minor injuries, only to be fed breakfast, then released, right as the rest of the school was eating in the Great Hall. Dumbledore asked him to pack his belongings for the trip home on the Hogwarts Express, still keeping him away from the rest of the student body, as much as possible.
Harry had returned to the Gryffindor Tower, and had quickly slung his school supplies back in the trunk, muttering all the while on how pointless it all seemed. He'd finished packing, and was just about to head down and look for some of his classmates when he spotted it ... a bit of paper sticking out from under Seamus Finnigan's mattress.
"I wonder who this hottie will be?" Harry thought, reaching for the paper. Throughout the year, Seamus had managed to find a succession of erotic photos, first of the muggle variety, but slowly more and more wizarding photos. The young men of Gryffindor had greatly enjoyed watching the last blond witch pleasuring herself. But when Harry pulled the paper free, he found himself with a parchment, not a photograph.
"'Length Beyond Measure ... a spell to enlarge man's greatest treasure,'" Harry read. He knew it was unlikely to be a valid spell ... Seamus had been trying spells the older students told him about for two years, and none had ever met with any real success. True, he claimed one had provided an illusion of a little extra length, but it was only visual, and the Irish student had eventually decided that an illusion that neither he nor whatever witch he might wish to share his 'greatest treasure' with could feel was actually rather worthless.
Harry was about to put the sheet back when his thoughts returned to everybody down at breakfast. He still couldn't join his classmates for perhaps another twenty minutes, and in truth he hadn't had the privacy for a good jerk-off since before the end of the Tournament. He needed to pass a little time, anyway; why not relieve a little pressure, try the spell, and reduce his boredom all at the same time? He didn't want to stay in the tower. Too much chance of being interrupted. But he still had a password for the Prefect's Bathroom, and nobody was likely to be using it right now.
It took Harry less than three minutes to reach the bathroom, and as he had figured, nobody was was using it. He removed his clothes, and took a seat on the edge of the massive tub, laying the aged parchment on the floor next to him. He thought back to the blond witch with her hands between her legs, and felt his cock twitch. He could just picture her, legs spread wide, large breasts gently swaying with her frantic fingering, and he felt the bloodflow increasing. He reached down and gave his cock a tug, and was pleased at the speed at which it began to harden in his grasp.
Harry knew he didn't really need any spells. Though they'd never directly compared lengths ('Ick!' he thought) he'd seen what the others were packing in the showers, and he had them all beat. He'd even measured it, and he knew his eight-and-a-quarter inches were larger than the average. Still, just for fun on his last day at Hogwarts for the term ... "Phallacio Engorgio," he muttered, waving his wand in a sort of stretching motion, trying to follow the diagram on the parchment. Of course, nothing happened. But it usually took a few tries to get a new spell to work. And he was still trying to sound out the proper pronunciation.
"Phallacio Engorgio!" Still no result, but he felt he was getting the chant closer to how it ought to sound. "Phallacio Engorgio!" His mental image of the blond was now frantic, her fingers pistoning in and out of her dripping lips, showing far more energy than the actual picture ever had. Harry was rock-hard, and his left hand was pistoning back and forth on his length. He could feel he was close to cumming, and he figured he only had one more chance with the spell.
"Phallacio Engorgio!" He almost screamed out. This time, his wand pulsed with a golden light, and he watched, impressed, as his cock stretched an extra two or three inches, just in time for his orgasm to hit. His now-massive cock twitched violently, and suddenly he launched a stream of cum a good seven feet through the air before the white goo hit the water. He followed it with four more thick strands of cum as he let out a groan. The sound mixed with the sizzle as Harry's discharge bubbled into nothingness in the water, leaving the tub clean once again.
'Sometimes I just love magic,' he thought to himself. He muttered a quick cleaning spell on his semi-limp dick, then grabbed his clothes and started to dress. Now ought to be a good time to join his friends in the Great Hall ... and it was almost time to catch the Express. As he jammed his manhood into his pants, he found himself already starting to get hard again. Seemed the spell was a potent one. He quickly pulled his robe over his head, hiding his 'growing' problem from sight, then opened the door of the Prefect's Bathroom and strolled quickly for the stairs.
He'd descended two floors, and was just about to climb down a third flight when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye, and heard a low mutter. He started to turn when he saw a flash of red light as a beam of magic hit him in his side. He felt a strange tingling as his eyes met the eyes of another student. Malfoy!
"So, Potter, none of your friends around to save you this time."
Harry jerked his wand up, ready to counter whatever Malfoy might want to throw at him. "Can't even wait until we get on the train for your end-of-the-year curses?" Harry asked. "You forget, it'll be easier for me to curse you without Crabb and Goyle around."
"Go ahead and try something," Malfoy sneered. "It'll be the last time I need to deal with you." His wand was also at the ready.
"Your last curse didn't seem to do much," Harry replied. "Losing what little power you had, Malfoy?"
The blond ponce actually laughed. "My spell had plenty of power to it, never you fear! You'll find out what it can do in an hour or two. Call it a gift. I've given you something you'd probably never have the balls to experience, if not for me." He laughed again, then turned to walk away. "See you around Potter. Or maybe I won't!"
Harry watched his junior nemesis as he quickly rounded a corner in the corridor, then looked himself over. He didn't seem to be bleeding, all of his body parts seemed to be normal, and he felt perfectly fine. He couldn't help but be slightly nervous because of Malfoy's confidence, but he couldn't find anything wrong with himself. He finally decided to chalk it up to Malfoy being an incompetent idiot, and continued down to the Great Hall.
As he entered the large hall and moved toward the Gryffindor table, he heard what sounded like a loud "SQUEEEE!" and Hermione hurtled into his arms. The bushy-haired witch was obviously glad to see him. As she pressed against him, Harry noticed again, as he had daily since the Yule Ball, just how much Hermione had grown and changed over the past four years. He must have liked what he'd seen, because his cock was once again rock hard in his trousers. And by how very constricted it felt, he figured Seamus's spell must still be working. Thankfully, Hermione had come at him from the side, or she'd probably have something unpleasant to say about his massive hard on.
"Come on, Hermione," Ron squabbled,"Let him breath already!" His best mate walked up and clenched his shoulder for a moment. "Sorry we haven't been around much," he muttered. "Dumbledore's orders." Harry nodded his understanding ... Dumbledore liked giving orders. The three students chatted companionably, while a couple of Harry's closer acquaintances wandered by and said hello. It was obvious most of them wanted to ask questions, but Harry was glad to see they held themselves back.
Soon the three of them returned to Gryffindor Tower to collect their luggage, then headed out of the castle and on to the Hogwarts Express. Except for a brief visit from Malfoy and his cronies (they left them on the train, victims of a wide variety of conflicting curses) the three students talked quietly about what Harry had gone through. They'd had a brief visit with Fred and George, and Harry had eventually had a private word with them and had given them his Tri-Wizard winnings to help them as they prepared for their joke shop.
Harry was pained to discover that the headache that had started shortly after he'd reached the Great Hall just continued to get worse and worse. His massive erection continued unabated as well, and he found his eyes constantly drawn to Hermione's figure, his mind reminding him of how she had looked at the Yule Ball. He'd certainly looked at his friend differently since that night. When it came time to remove their robes, he kept his folded robe in his lap, as his erection was visible even through Dudley's king-size cast-offs.
Though he would miss his friends, and was not looking forward to returning to the Dursleys, he couldn't wait to get to his room and try to sleep off this miserable headache.
AUTHORS NOTE: A few slight differences in the end of the fourth year, here. The book makes it sound like there was at least a week at Hogwarts after the final task, and maybe longer, but I don't think Harry would have been left alone nearly as much as the book makes it seem like if that were the case. Instead, the Express was leaving three days after the tournament ended, and Harry spent two of those days in the hospital. He was not at the end of term banquet when Dumbledore told the students what happened, but only heard about it from Hermione on the trip home. I can see the students leaving Harry mostly alone for a couple of hours, but almost a week? never!
This story will have enough lemons to keep a carnival in drinks for a century, even if we don't see much of it in the first chapter. Don't worry, you'll see more than you might want in chapter two.