Date: Tue, 21 Jun 2011 08:37:34 -0700 (PDT)
From: Queer Bottom <queerbottom@yahoo.com>
Subject: Hogwarts Nights Chapter 1 TG

This is a Harry Potter-themed squicky fan/TG/slash/lemon/fic.
There will be plot.
There will be transgender stuffs.
There will be underage stuffs.
There will be pairings of various genders.
They may even be non-con or bestial bits.
Consider yourself warned.

I don't intend to write canon characters. If, however, you wish to see
canon characters included, I will respond positively to suggestions :)
I am open to requests regarding kinks, characters and pairings.
I do have an overall plot in mind, but I am open to requests and
suggestions regarding subplots, plot additions and other events you would
like included.

I also am very open to criticisms (as long as they're worded nicely), other
suggestions and general feedback. Please feel very free to email me with
whatever you wish!

queerbottom@yahoo.com

________

Hogwarts Nights, Chapter One.

This story is primarily about magical gender transformation and underage
relationships in the Harry Potter universe. The timeline is aimed roughly a
year or two after the final battle at Hogwarts. I'm not going to be
clinging strictly to Canon, however, but if I make any obvious mistakes
please feel free to let me know.

________

William Lell ran along the street as fast as he could, his lined face a
mask of desperation as he frantically pumped his legs. He careened off one
of the parked cars, managing to use the impact to redirect his headlong
flight down one of the side streets, although he now ran with a limp.

Blood pounded in his ears, and he was seeing spots now, lungs heaving as
his middle-aged body struggled to keep up with the demands he was putting
on it. Slightly overweight, definitely under-exercised, and, he had to
admit, old, he was as much worried about the strain on his heart as he
was...

At that point his rather hysterical thoughts were derailed by the whump as
a spell hit the car he'd bounced off, glass cascading out as the roof and
the boot folded in, rather like a giant had chopped the car with the edge
of a huge hand. The surge of adrenaline made his heart falter dangerously,
but it managed to spur him on again, unable to feel the bruised knee any
more.

The thing that finally slowed him down was the hiss of a black cloud as it
shot past him, then touched down onto the tar a little way ahead,
spiralling up to form a figure in black hood and robes, a skeletal mask
covering the face. The Deatheater laughed, then negligently flicked a
lightly grasped wand at him. He felt his legs and arms abruptly drawn into
his body, his hip and shoulder slamming into the sidewalk as he fell, his
momentum tumbling him onto his back where he stared helplessly at the sky.

"For too long you have defended these wretched creatures, these muggles and
mud bloods," the figure hissed as it loomed over him, eclipsing his view of
the grey clouds. It drew out the last two words with a malevolent pleasure,
then glanced up as the sentence was punctuated with a scream. William
managed to look left, unable to turn his head, just able to see the
struggling figures out of the corner of his eye.

A woman in her thirties, a man slightly older, and a young girl in her
teens. They were foreigners, accents thick on their tongues and a foreign
language merged in as they gabbled desperately at the shrouded figures
surrounding them, stumbling as they were dragged out by shimmering spell
lines, like magical lassoes.

William just stared, cold shock suffusing him, stripping away all emotion,
as three green flashes briefly lit the street. The three bodies slumped
lifelessly to the ground, lives snuffed in a harsh, brutal moment of
fear. The closest figure snorted with satisfaction, then leaned over him
again.

"The world is a little bit cleaner... but nothing so quick for you, I
think. There's something special I found, a spell that doesn't kill, it
just... separates the soul, the essence, from the body and sets it free to
roam unendingly. I found it in a book taken from Hogwarts when the Dark
Lord was murdered..."

"Murdered? He was put down like the rabid dog he was!" Anger, horror,
hatred, a surge of emotion flooding through William, enough to drive back
the spell binding him so that he could speak. The figure jerked back in
surprise, then leaned in again, raising the wand once more.

"Those, then, can be your last words. This is a great pleasure for me,
William. Isolas Kavadre!"

A purple flash this time, sickly and pale, filling his eyes and then
sinking into him. He felt a wrenching, as if every muscle in his body was
severed at the same moment, but without the associated pain. As the flash
cleared he felt himself rise, the feeling putting him in mind of a zepplin,
weightless and ponderous.

It took a mere effort of will to make himself drift sideways, turning in
the air, rolling until he could see his own body, lying slack on the
ground. There was no emotion at the sight, no shock... he felt free,
somehow, but lost at the same time, and uncaring about either state.

Emotion returned as his slow roll brought the nearby bodies into view. He
caused himself to drift over to them, hovering above them, gazing down at
their lifeless, staring faces. A woman, beautiful and graceful, even in
death. A man, stern and neatly groomed. A girl, barely thirteen, pretty and
soft...

There was a faint tugging, drawing at his invisible essence, from all three
bodies. It was like three magnets, dragging at him, pulling at the psychic
equivalent of metal in his ethereal nature. Panicking he tried to move
away, but it was like swimming against the tide, dragging him back towards
them. There was the briefest moment of a sort of tug of war, as all three
bodies pulled at him, and then he was abruptly yanked into the younger
body.

Pain returned, the ache of lungs as they dragged in air, the bruising of
the fall to the road on flesh that was much more sensitive than his
previous body, the screaming of every cell in his body for nutriants,
movement, the pulse of life. He felt his heart start, the lungs convulse,
the muscles arch.

And then, as the cracks of Ministry agents finally apparating filled the
street, blackness tinged with red. His conciousness fled, and the girl
slumped back to the road, senseless, scraped and bleeding... but breathing.



 - * -



The caress of cool sheets woke him up with a bit of a shock... the
sensations were again more intense than he could remember for a long time,
almost electric. He shifted and three things were immediately, almost
shockingly evident... the first was that his chest and hips felt somehow
'padded', bulkier relative to his movement. The second, that he was naked
underneath the covers. The third, massively overwhelming the other two, was
a sharp reminder of how sensitive his new form now was.

The movement of the cloth over his form sent powerful shocks through him,
at first a simple sensation overload, and then undeniably sensual surges
racing from his nipples and hips and thighs. He gasped, and shuddered, eyes
flying open to stare at a white ceiling in bewilderment. Warmth suffused
the otherwise strange sensations between his legs, and he felt a flush rise
on his cheeks.

He glanced to the left and right, and then down... the view he'd normally
have down his chest to his swelling paunch had changed... now he was
looking down at two white mounds, the sheet lifted by what were undeniably
small but distinct breasts. The mounds were pointed now, the thin sheets
lifted a bit further as his new nipples responded to the caress of the
material.

Movement to his right made him jump again, and his head snapped right to
look. The shock washed away the sexual surge, leaving behind a deep ache in
his muscles, and a heavy weakness. He found himself staring at a stern,
rather stocky woman in nurses whites, and he was rather relieved to see the
familiar insigna of the Ministry of Magic's medical wing pinned to her
substantial bosom.

He cleared his throat, and tried to speak.

"Where... where am..."

His voice trailed away as he heard himself. Soft, high-pitched, distinctly
feminine. He cleared his throat again.

"Where am I? What... what happened?"

They were cliches, of course, but applicable under the circumstances. The
realisation of what had happened was slowly climbing across his fogged
mind, and the strong underpinnings of his training and experiences as a
Ministry agent, an Auror, were starting to kick in. He knew that the
Deatheaters would be looking for him, if they thought he'd survived in any
way. He knew... or at least could make an educated guess... that it would
be impossible to tell that it was really him inside this poor girl's
body. And he knew that the Ministry was still infiltrated by Deatheater
agents. If he was going to hide, it had to be from this moment.

The woman's stern expression softened as she looked down at the young girl.

"It's okay dearie, you're safe. You're in the Ministry medical ward."

She spoke as if the girl should know what that is, so William relaxed a
little more. At least he didn't have to pretend to be a muggle... the girl
must be a mixed blood then. The nurse hesitated, clearly warring with
herself as to how much she should say. William immediately felt compelled
to take pity on her.

"It's... it's okay. I know." He said, still hesitant at the soft voice he
heard as his own lips moved.

"My... my parents... I mean, I remember the... attack. I don't... I don't
remember anything from before the attack. Everything is a blank until I was
being dragged outside and then..."

He hesitated. The Deatheaters had been after him because he'd discovered
several of their moles within the Ministry. Here, at least, was a chance
for a bit of revenge that would also leave the moles wondering.

"I remember a man... an older man... he shouted some names as they
c...cursed him."

The slight hesitation was a touch he was proud of. The Auror within him was
in control now, the rigid mental lock that had made him such a reliable
agent now guiding his every step, smoothing away the vestigial shock and
outlining goals and plans. The nurse responded predictably, tensing at the
words, making some soothing platitudes, then rushing out.

It was less than ten minutes before a portly figure appeared through the
door, breathing heavily from having run through the teeming
corridors. William had spent the time testing his new body, lifting his
arms and bending his legs slightly, trying to get an idea of his new
strength as well as get used to the new sensitivity. He could hear sounds
from outside, the clatter of the busy wards, with a precision he was sure
his old ears would never have managed. He recognised the figure, of course,
as it was his old boss; Reginald O'Mare, head of the Ministry's Internal
Affairs department.

"Rebecca," the man began. Willian stared blankly for a moment before he
realised it must be the body's name. The damage was done, however, as
Reginald looked uncertainly at the nurse who'd followed him back in.

"She has had some memory loss, we're not sure how much," the woman said
helpfully. Reginald frowned, but William was unable to hide a smile. The
suggested memory loss might actually be useful.

"I don't remember anything before, um... the attack." He was getting used
to the voice already. Habits built into the body gave it the correct
modulation as he spoke.

"I just... the first thing I remember is being dragged outside. I remember
my parents killed... I remember who they are, but I don't remember anything
about them now... and then I remember the man. He shouted three names."

William tried to keep his new voice calm as he said the names, although he
was buoyant inside. The names had been the result of a lot of very
difficult, very dangerous work, and the reaction on the face of the older
man was gratifying. He turned pale, reaching out to brace himself against
the bed.

"No," he muttered. "No, it cannot... are you sure?"

William nodded, feeling long hair brush his cheek from the action. Of
course, he had long hair now. The man smiled weakly, staring into space as
he muttered to himself.

"So... so it is. There will be a reckoning, to be sure. But... that means
there is someone in Hogwarts as well, because... but how to tell who it
is."

The comment struck home. At least one of the moles had been recommended by
Hogwarts, William knew that much, so the school must be infiltrated as
well. This could be the break they were looking for, the link back to the
core Deatheater cell. He had to be a part of this.

"I could... um, I mean, can I... I want to help," he said. The man turned
to stare at him.

"I know they... killed my parents. I mean I have to go to Hogwarts, right?
So I could... look around, report things back to you? Like... like a secret
agent? I really want to."

The man shook his head.

"You were home-schooled, Rebecca," he said. "Your parents didn't want you
to go there after the... battle. I'm sorry, we'll have to find a foster
home for you, and arrange for tutoring..."

William interrupted him, grabbing his hand... inwardly horrified at how
weak his new grip was, but burying it under the urgent stare he was
directing at the man.

"No. Please. I need this. I have to... have to be a part of this. I will do
whatever is needed, whatever you want, I'll be careful, I'll follow the
rules, just... please, there are people dying, people like my parents, and
your man. This will... it will help me, and it will help everyone
else. Please."

The man was clearly taken-aback at the forceful urgency in William's voice,
and it was clear that the idea appealed to him. Nobody was likely to
suspect one of the students as being a hidden agent. He stared at the young
girl thoughtfully, and then answered slowly.

"It would be easier to have Hogwarts take you for now. And I suppose you
could keep an eye out, report anything strange. You are not an agent,
however, do you understand? No poking about, no snooping, no making
accusations. You see or hear anything strange, you contact me and me alone,
otherwise everything will be as usual."

William nodded quickly, unable to hide a much bigger smile. Reginald turned
to look at the nurse.

"Is she... okay? Well, I mean? Physically?"

The nurse nodded, eyeing William uncertainly.

"Physically she is fine... a bit bruised, weakened, but nothing a bit more
sleep and a good feed won't cure. Whatever the curse was, it didn't seem to
do any lasting damage."

Reginald nodded, clearly satisfied. He stood, clapped his hands together,
and strode towards the door, talking over his shoulder as he tramped out.

"The Ministry will arrange for everything, the disposal of your belongings
and whatnot. As far as anyone knows, you died in the attack. You'll have a
new surname, and the Ministry will provide for your financial needs. The
train leaves in a week, we'll help you get to the station in time. Between
now and then you must stay out of sight, understood? We already found as
many of your clothes as possible, they're in a suitcase underneath your
bed. The rest of your belongings are, I'm afraid, locked in your
home... you won't be able to go back there, it'll be watched. We'll be in
touch. Get some rest."

He strode out almost before he finished talking. The nurse hesitated,
smiled weakly at William, and then scurried out after him.

William lay back and closed his eyes.



 - * -



It was dark when he awoke. The wards had settled into the silence of
night-time duty shifts, a sort of gentle silence with the comforting
feeling of benevolent eyes. William pushed the sheets, shivered as the cold
air hit his exposed skin, then padded naked over to the long mirror that
covered the nearby cupboard door.

A very pretty face looked back at him. Big eyes, cupid's-bow lips, pale
high cheekbones, a narrow chin and masses of dark, slightly-curly hair sat
on top of a slender neck and straight shoulders. The girl in the mirror's
breasts were small and high, surprisingly large for the age she appeared to
be, but still with some way to grow.

A pleasingly flat stomach led to surprisingly wide hips. The promise in the
pubescent bosom was matched by a very hippy figure, hilighted by the narrow
waist and long, coltish legs. The mound between the thighs was small and
smoothly hairless, as was the rest of the body. He turned to view the
profile, and the curvy shape was matched there too, the small, jutting
breasts balanced by a plump, rounded, larger-than-ideal bottom.

He sighed, trying to push away the inevitable thoughts the sight of the
nubile shape awoke in his very male psyche. He forced himself to turn away,
padding back to the bed in his bare feet and bending to drag the suitcase
out. Someone had packed it neatly, neatly folded piles of shirts, pants,
skirts, underwear and accessories. A battered bag beside the case held a
selection of shoes.

And there, in a neat sheath along the side of the case, was exactly what he
was looking for. The girl's wand, a delicate length of dark wood that
settled comfortably into his hand. He waved it briefly, testingly, and then
set it onto the bed and picked up the small handbag that had also been
squeezed in to the corner of the case. A small purse held an acceptable
handful of coins, and there was a small pack of barely-used
cosmetics... probably her first experimental attempts... and a comb.

He bent to rummage through the clothes, pulling out anything that was dark
in colour and laying it on the bed. Shoving the case back under the bed, he
bent again to pull on the panties he'd selected... and then had to brace
himself against the bed again. The soft cloth, sliding over his smooth
flesh and settling against his nether regions, had been almost dizzyingly
sensual, erotic warmth rippling through him at the touch against his
sensitive new body parts.

He had to take a moment to catch his breath before he pulled on the rest of
his clothes, dark jeans and a dark blue top with a grey hoody over the
top. The sneakers he'd chosen were originally white, but age and irregular
cleaning had turned them a sort of muddy grey. The coins went into one
pocked, the wand sheath tied to his arm under the hoody sleeve, and he was
ready.

As an afterthought he darted back to scribble a note on some paper he found
in a drawer beside the bed.

'Gone to clear my head with a walk around the building. I'll be careful. Be
back soon.'

He leaned out to check the corridor, long hair a brief distraction as it
brushed his cheek, then he stepped out into the silence and walked
purposefully down to the elevators at the end. The nurse was presumably on
her rounds... the duty station was empty, and he could hear soft footsteps
from the far end of the other corridor.

Once he was in the elevator it was easy... he'd been working in the
building for twenty five years, and he knew every odd back-passage and
hidden entrance possible. A quick nip down a dark corridor, a push through
some old boxes, and here was one of the emergency exits, pressing through
the wall like it was not there. It was a one-way portal similar to the one
that led to the Hogwarts Express platform.

It was while he was walking down the dark corridor that he realised what
was bugging him... it was the way the body walked. While he was
concentrating he could override it, and no doubt walked in a rather mannish
way. As soon as he let the body's instincts take over, however, it felt
rather odd... the female pelvis, the arch of the girl's healthy posture,
and what were presumably her original habits turned the walk into a rather
wiggly sway, almost as if she was wearing high heels. The broad hips the
body was saddled with would make the walk rather slutty.

He tried to banish the thought from his head as he pushed through the
secret exit, emerging into a dark, box-filled alley on the side of the
building. He sighed, leaned back against the wall, and held out his new
wand. A distant humming turned into a whoosh of air and the knight bus
crashed into the alley, boxes cascading out of the way.

William trotted up the stairs of the bus, ostensibly ignoring the leering
gaze of the pimply young man, probably around sixteen years old, acting as
the conducto,r and dropping a handful of copper coins into the driver's
tray, before settling into the chair. In truth he could almost feel the
eyes of the boy, examining his new pretty face and then dropping to the
damnably tight jeans as they clung to his hips and bottom. He thought he'd
be annoyed or revulsed by the blatant leering, but the tight clothes had
been moving against him as he'd walked through the Ministry, and the
movements together with the feel of his new body had made him rather
flushed again. It was certainly an effort to keep his head clear.

"Number Seventeen Endelbert street, please," he called to the driver, and
braced himself as the bus shot away and into the maelstrom of London's
nighttime traffic, plunging through impossibly narrow gaps and hurtling
over curbs and through intersections. The conductor's stare was fixed on
him the whole way, and it was inevitable that he would eventually look up,
meet the boy's eyes, and flash a smile that was, in retrospect, rather too
warm.

Blushing hotly, he avoided the boy's gaze for the rest of the journey while
his inner agent yelled at him for the loss of control. The bus finally
crashed to a halt in the deserted lane, and he rose and headed to the
front, pushing past the boy to head down the stairs to the street. He
immediately felt a hand cup his bottom, warm even through the jeans,
settling there to give it a good firm squeeze as he pushed past, then
darting away. He hesitated for the briefest moment, emotions warring
through him... the agent training demanding that he simply ignore it, the
rather prudish side of his original personality demanding that he react
with outrage.

It was the sensations of his new body, the arousal from the shifting of
clothes against him, and the definite sexual overtones of the grope that
overrode his response. He paused, let his eyes lift to glance at the boy,
flashed him another smile, and then gracefully descended the rest of the
stairs before turning to smile again and give a little wave. The boy
mock-swooned as the bus pulled away, and William was horrified to hear
himself give a girlish giggle.

He sighed, shook his head, and then turned to face a house at the end of
the street. Small, unremarkable, dark and silent, it didn't seem to have
any worthwhile characteristics about it. It was his own house,
however... William's house, that is, not Rebecca's house. It was hidden
behind a Fidelius charm, as most Auror houses were, so he was assured that
no Deatheaters were watching it.

A second Fidelius charm covered the spare key tucked into a little notch in
one of the window sills. He pushed open the door and trotted confidently
through the darkness. His first stop was to pick up a rather modern-looking
muggle backpack, sturdy and reliable. The bag was soon filled with a
smaller bag of money... his stash of cash for emergencies... some enchanted
items he had come to rely on, and a pile of notes on his undercover work up
til that point. He'd have to anonymously mail them to the Ministry, an
uncomfortable loose end, but he couldn't think of a more graceful way to
get them into Reginald's hands.



 - * -



It was about two hours later. He'd found a magical postbox and posted the
notes, then summoned the bus again. The conductor had been very pleased to
see him, and his bottom had been groped twice by the boy, once as he'd
climbed onto the bus and again as he'd climbed off at the Ministry
entrance. He was still trying to convince himself that he hadn't stood
still to let it happen, although he'd given up on the idea of acting
outraged.

He'd simply walked in the front entrance of the Ministry, told the guard
that he was expected up on the medical wing, and headed for the elevator
after assuring the man that he knew where he was going. He was always
amused by how a confident and friendly approach was good for getting into
most 'secure' buildings, although he was developing a new respect for how
much a pretty face and a sweet smile could add.

The ward was still dark and quiet, and he had more than enough time to stow
bag, money and items into Rebecca's suitcase before the nurse appeared,
seemingly unfussed.

"There you are, dearie. Did you have a nice walk? Feeling better? You need
to let us know next time, love. We were a bit flustered until we found your
note. It isn't really safe to wander around the building alone."

William just smiled noncomittally as the woman chattered on, then finally
managed to escape into the ward bathroom for a bath.

The hot water and slick soap were new levels of intense sensation in the
new body, and William was squirming and breathing hard by the time he'd
finished cleaning himself. Finally it was time to head back to his room,
climb into a rather skimpy nightie, and clamber back into bed for another
long sleep, once he'd managed to banish a number of impure thoughts from
his head.

The next few days were a comfortable cycle. The ward food wasn't bad,
Reginald's visits were infrequent but pleasant as he chatted about the
Hogwarts staff and suggested some things to look out for... things William
had already thought of, of course, but he played the young girl
dutifully... and he even managed to get a relatively unsupervised visit to
Diagon alley to pick up his Hogwarts items.

He discovered that Rebecca's birthday was in the middle of the school year,
so to play it safe the Ministry had decided to put him in his second year
at the school... home tutoring being rather unreliable to compare to the
school syllabus. It suited him fine... he'd be able to practically sleep
through classes, leaving him more time to snoop about as needed.

The final day was rather more nervewracking. Packing and heading out with
Reginald was simple enough, but this was his first real interaction with
people of his new age. It had been easy enough to avoid them in Diagon
alley, but now he was expected to interact with them. It was, at least,
unlikely that any were already friends of Rebecca... she'd moved to England
from somewhere in Europe during the Voldemort crisis, and the family had
been rather isolationist since then.

Reginald left him near the entrance to the station, watching as he crossed
into the building. It was easy enough to slip onto the Hogwarts platform,
even with the now heavy suitcase to lug around, but from that moment his
challenges started. The first challenge was from a slip that, almost
literally, came back to bite him in the ass.

Rebecca had apparently been a fan of tight clothing, possibly the onset of
her initial teenage rebellion. Her jeans all seemed to be painted on, her
shirts all clung to her body, and her skirts were all either snug or
short. Tired of the distractingly clingy caress of the tight jeans, William
had settled on a short skirt... and was already regretting the choice. Not
only was it cold, but he was feeling very exposed, especially since he'd
equally unwisely chosen a rather skimpy pair of panties that were also a
little too small. As a result they kept on riding up over his broad hips
and vanishing into the crevice of his rear.

The cold and exposure was abruptly brought home when a warm hand slipped
under the hem of his skirt and lifted to settle onto the bare curve of his
ass. The heat and intimacy of the contact sent a surge through him that
froze him in place, rather than send him into an indignant spin, and then
the correct moment to respond was missed... no matter what he did now, it
would seem like he originally approved of the grope, and was now just
protesting for forms sake.

He turned and looked up into the face of the conductor, who grinned
laciviously, his hand still nestling on William's bottom.

"'ello darlin'," he grinned, then turned to chuckle at some other teens who
were standing nearby, watching with their own leering grins.

"See, told you she was a sport!" he laughed, their laughs echoing
his. William definitely couldn't make a scene now... it would draw far too
much attention, raise questions about his nocturnal journey, and generally
unravel everything. He settled for simply stepping away from the invading
hand, but this too turned out to be a bit of a mistake... the boy raised
his hand as he stepped away, briefly lifting the skirt. With the panties
having been 'eaten' by his rounded rear, the view was far too easy to
mistake, and one of the boys commented accordingly.

"Oi, she's goin' commando. Sport is right!"

The chuckles had a definitely dirty edge to them as William turned bright
red and hurriedly pushed the trolley with his case away, heading for the
baggage section of the train. There, at least, the attention was
useful. The boys chased after, chuckling and passing comments to each
other, and 'gentlemanly' helped with the case, getting it on the train and
settled. William tried to fob them off with a curt thankyou, avoiding their
pleas to 'g'a kiss luv', and escaped onto the train.

The truth, a truth he was desperately trying to hide, especially to
himself, was that the caress had inflamed him somewhat. He was feeling an
uncomfortable dampness between his legs, a sensation he was still unused
to, and more heat travelling through his lower regions.

This might have been why he didn't protest too much when two of the boys
followed him into the carriage he'd found, pushing the door shut behind
them and locking it, then pulling down the blinds on the corridor-facing
windows. The train shuddered as it blew the final whistle and then pulled
away, the boys sitting on the bench facing him, grinning at him.

"So, darlin'" the one said. "I reckon you're a sport. I also reckon you
weren't supposed to be runnin' about outside the Ministry at
midnight. That's fine, though... my friend and I like to keep secrets. Long
as they're secrets from people who are... nice to us."

The other boy nodded enthusiastically, chuckling. William's mind raced, but
he couldn't see any other way past the same problem... the boy could
unravel his story with one comment to the wrong person. Besides, it wasn't
like it would be the worst thing he'd ever done in the course of his duty.

Part of him realised that these were largly excuses. The truth was that,
after the unintentional teasing he'd been doing to himself with the
sensitivity of this body, he really really wanted to do something sexual
with it. He was aching for it, and here was both opportunity and moral
excuse. He nodded.

"Okay. What... what do you want me to do?"

"Well, luv... we believe in good, obedient Hogwarts students. You better be
gettin' into yer uniform. To do that, yer gonna have to get undressed."

The implicit instruction hung in the air. William nodded again, heart
pounding, breath quickening. He stood up, kicking off his sneakers, and
then hooked his thumbs into the hem of his skirt and into the band of his
panties. Both came off easily, although the panties stuck slightly. It was
quick enough, however, especially as he bent, that it still looked like he
hadn't been wearing any panties.

He crossed his arms next, taking hold of both hoody and shirt, and pulled
them swiftly over his head, then dropped them on the floor, leaving his
pale, smooth body bared to the boy's gaze. It was almost surreal, the noise
of the students clattering past outside, the stares of the boys, his
exposure in this wonderful body. The pair had clearly not expected to get
this far this quickly, and they didn't seem to know what to do
next. William had to take control.

"If I'm nice to you now, then you keep all my secrets," he said, stepping
over to the boys and kneeling before them.

"If you break the secret, then I'll be... very mean. There's all sorts of
stories I can tell, stories with tears on my face, that will get you into a
lot of trouble... understand?"

The two nodded as one, one of them swallowing. William grinned, then
reached out for the closest one's pants, undoing the buckles and reaching
inside to find the boy's length. The boy immediately leaned back, legs
spreading, his already rock-hard shaft poking out.

"You'll find that I can be very, very nice then. To those who keep my
secrets," William said softly, then bent forward. His soft lips settled on
the head of the boy's shaft, then spread around it, taking the hard member
deep into his mouth. It was an action that his previous self couldn't
imagine even considering, let alone doing, but at this moment it felt so
easy, so natural, and so arousing, that his current form couldn't imagine
stopping.

It didn't take long, his head bobbing for quick seconds before the boy
exploded into his mouth. The taste was a lot more pleasant than he
imagined, and he knew enough about his own previous anatomy that the
warning signs were easy to spot, so he wasn't taken by surprise. He
swallowed easily, then shifted to one side... the other boy had taken his
cock out already, so he sank his mouth over it and bobbed his head even
more enthusiastically until another wave of cum filled his mouth.

The sensations, the sounds, the knowledge of what he was doing, was all too
much. He fell back against the seat behind him, one hand sliding down,
fumbling briefly as it didn't find what it expected... and then adapting,
stroking over the wet folds it found, pressing in to find the engorged
focus of pleasure and strumming it frantically. Female moans of pleasure
quickly filled the carriage, then turned into gasps as cascading waves of
orgasm washed over him in a way he could never have imagined.

He slumped to the floor, gasping and quivering, drained and dizzy. The two
boys had clearly enjoyed the show, whooping and shaking hands with each
other as William came, then laughing as one of them whispered to the
other. Before William was really in touch with what was happening they'd
pulled down his suitcase and opened it, then pulled out all of his panties,
one dipping quickly to grab the pair in his pile of clothes on the floor.

"We'll keep these as trophies, as a promise, right? A good sport like you
don't need none anyway."

They chuckled again, stuffing the soft scraps into their pockets, then
ducked out of the carriage before William had enough of a presence of mind
to protest. He barely had enough sense to lock the door again behind them,
before he wearily packed his clothes away and pulled on his uniform.

His bare nethers, still chill with his drying juices, was a permanent
reminder of what had happened, as was the taste in his mouth and the faint
stickiness on his chin and breasts where some of the cum had spilled. As a
result he was almost squirming again when the train finally arrived at the
school, the clatter of the disembarking students abruptly loud in the
silence of the halted train.

queerbottom@yahoo.com