Harry Cotter and the Philosopher’s Brothel.
Harry, Ron And Genital Herpes
“His name’s Herpes”
“As In Genital Herpes?” Harry was very cautious of the gothic ginger boy, holding the rat named after a sexual disease.
“Yeah, it’s ‘cos…”
“I don’t want to know”
“Fair enough”
There was a long pause, Ron almost bursting with anticipation, there was a question he yearned to ask:
“Do you have the scar?” he could hold it in no longer
“Yeah” Harry sighed, lifting up his hair to reveal the penis shaped mark
“Awesome!”
“Really?”
“Ah-huh”
“Cool”
Both of the boys blushed slightly, loosing eye contact. Ron began to cradle the small creature in his lap, while Harry looked over Ron, almost checking him out. Other than the bulging lump in his pants, Harry’s eyes were drawn to the badges on his satchel, one for several bands, all Wizarding by the sound of it, but he had a few fuggle ones; Marilyn Manson, Green Day, My Chemical Romance and Elliot Minor. He’d ask later who they all were.
“So…” Harry tried to make contact “got any siblings?”
Turns out Ron, had 3 older brothers still at school, and two more that had left, with one sister due next year. Apparently also he was a Weevily, but this made no sense to Harry, who just smiled and nodded politely. Ron also was a fan of Digditch, supporting the “Latvian Sugar Fairies”; more nonsense as far as Harry was concerned.
At the risk of sounding stupid, Harry didn’t speak to Ron for a while, and only again made a discussion of the rumbling sound that emerged from his stomach, just as the sweets cart rolled round.
“Anything boys?”
“Give me it all” the dark haired boy handed a small purse of coins over to the women pushing along the trolley, tottering off, pocketing the extra cash while thinking of the new coat she could buy.
“You rich whore” Ron mocked, stealing a chocolate cockroach, while Harry tucked into a pack of ‘Barney Bean’s Every Flavour Bott’
“What’s a bott?” he mumbled, between mouthfuls
“Bugs Of The Trees; Basically Dead Bugs, but tasty”. Secretly, Harry spit out the contents, shoving the packet under the seat. Instead, he picked up another random bag:
“What’s a snottle?” he squinted through his glasses, trying to make out the ingredients. Ron seemed to be saying ‘you don’t want to know’ but it was hard to tell as his mouth was too full of ‘Shindy Beels’, whatever they were. Swallowing, he smiled, his teeth covered in red gloop:
“You have a lot to learn my friend”
“As In Genital Herpes?” Harry was very cautious of the gothic ginger boy, holding the rat named after a sexual disease.
“Yeah, it’s ‘cos…”
“I don’t want to know”
“Fair enough”
There was a long pause, Ron almost bursting with anticipation, there was a question he yearned to ask:
“Do you have the scar?” he could hold it in no longer
“Yeah” Harry sighed, lifting up his hair to reveal the penis shaped mark
“Awesome!”
“Really?”
“Ah-huh”
“Cool”
Both of the boys blushed slightly, loosing eye contact. Ron began to cradle the small creature in his lap, while Harry looked over Ron, almost checking him out. Other than the bulging lump in his pants, Harry’s eyes were drawn to the badges on his satchel, one for several bands, all Wizarding by the sound of it, but he had a few fuggle ones; Marilyn Manson, Green Day, My Chemical Romance and Elliot Minor. He’d ask later who they all were.
“So…” Harry tried to make contact “got any siblings?”
Turns out Ron, had 3 older brothers still at school, and two more that had left, with one sister due next year. Apparently also he was a Weevily, but this made no sense to Harry, who just smiled and nodded politely. Ron also was a fan of Digditch, supporting the “Latvian Sugar Fairies”; more nonsense as far as Harry was concerned.
At the risk of sounding stupid, Harry didn’t speak to Ron for a while, and only again made a discussion of the rumbling sound that emerged from his stomach, just as the sweets cart rolled round.
“Anything boys?”
“Give me it all” the dark haired boy handed a small purse of coins over to the women pushing along the trolley, tottering off, pocketing the extra cash while thinking of the new coat she could buy.
“You rich whore” Ron mocked, stealing a chocolate cockroach, while Harry tucked into a pack of ‘Barney Bean’s Every Flavour Bott’
“What’s a bott?” he mumbled, between mouthfuls
“Bugs Of The Trees; Basically Dead Bugs, but tasty”. Secretly, Harry spit out the contents, shoving the packet under the seat. Instead, he picked up another random bag:
“What’s a snottle?” he squinted through his glasses, trying to make out the ingredients. Ron seemed to be saying ‘you don’t want to know’ but it was hard to tell as his mouth was too full of ‘Shindy Beels’, whatever they were. Swallowing, he smiled, his teeth covered in red gloop:
“You have a lot to learn my friend”