Summer Vacation

I dreamed I was back in the model changing room of the college, except instead of that cute graphics major student there was the house elf Tebby and he was sticking a wand into my pussy. Those things seemed far too slender to do the job, but apparently my sleeping mind thought otherwise, because I was moaning like a cat in heat.

“Ooooh, fuck me with that wand good, E.T.!”

And with that particular cry stuck fresh in my mind, I woke up. Panting. I felt between my legs and found warm slick liquid. Didn’t orgasm though. Woke up before that. With a snarl I got up. I needed a shower to get THAT particular image out of my head – preferably a cold one.

Tried to give myself some release in the shower. Got frustrated and gave up when Liz banged on the door and demanded that I hurried up. It was like the dorm days of fighting over the narrow stalls with butt-ugly yellow shower curtains all over again. If things continued like they were, it would be a long summer. Hopefully exploring this Diagon place would make up for the awful dream.

My aunt lectured us both before we left. Me, for five minutes on the do’s and don’ts of the wizarding world and not letting Liz get me into any trouble, and then Liz for what seemed like half an hour on not getting into trouble, not getting me into trouble, and listening to what I tell her. I noticed that her eyes had glazed over by the last one. That did not bode well. Then she instructed me on the use of floo powder, Liz went first, and off we went.

Floo powder is marginally better than a portkey. Strange, but not as gut-wrenching. You’d think that after all these years of using magic they’d have developed a better way of traveling. None of this floo powder of broomstick nonsense. That spurred off another thought. How many quiddich players were gay..? I mean, they’ve got that big long stick stuck into the crack of their bum for hours. I made a mental note to borrow a broom and ride it at some point, just to see if you could get off on having it stuck between your legs while flying.

Liz dragged me down the street at breakneck speed. I was trying to look at everything and everyone. It seemed I was the only person in ‘normal’ clothing; everyone else looked like the Ren fair rejects who thought they were the reincarnated soul of a Salem witch. But it fit somehow, with the lopsided buildings, impossible architecture, and sheer flash and bang of the store signs. Graphic design majors, eat your hearts out. This was advertising at its finest. Shiny lights for a generation of caffeine addled ADD diagnosed kids.

Sure enough, we went to that “totally phat” candy store Liz had been talking about.

“Liz, did you just say phat?” I asked as we entered.

“Yeah, isn’t that American slang?”

“Well, yes, I guess, but if I ever hear you use it again I’ll kick your scrawny schoolgirl ass.”

“Couldn’t!” She stuck her tongue out at me. “I’ve got a wand.”

In response, I pulled the wand out of her pocket, stuck it in my own, and grabbed her about the waist and threw her over my shoulder. She kicked and screamed and once she had attracted enough attention to ensure total humiliation, I put her back down. Besides, I thought I saw the chocolate frogs and wanted to see if they were indeed moving or if I was just imagining things.

We loaded up on sweets. A while back I swore off excessive amounts of junk food, as my fanny was really packing on the freshman pounds. However, this was vacation, and c’mon, wizard candy. Honestly.

The bookstore was next; we popped in at Gringott’s just for a peek, and then visited the wand shop and some other attractions that Liz swore I just couldn’t miss. I eyed a couple clothing stores and made a note to stop back in there later in the day, after I abandoned Liz to her friends. That was accomplished at an ice cream parlor. I stayed long enough to finish mine, a variety that changed flavors about three times during the eating, and then slipped off, telling Liz to meet me outside the bookstore at five. It wasn’t until I was out of sight and earshot of her gaggle of girls that I realized I still had her wand in my back pocket. Briefly, I considered returning to give it back to her. Then I remembered that as an underage wizard, she wouldn’t be able to use it anyways, and besides, she was supposed to stay out of trouble. This would probably help that cause. So I set off, feeling rather saucy. American, foreigner, young adult, with a wand in her back pocket, an attitude, and not afraid to use it. Oh yeah. I was one badass bitch.

Stopped in at the clothing store. Found some stuff that I’d have to come back and try on, when the store wasn’t so busy. Wandered in and out of a variety of other stores, including one that sold familiars, another that had broomsticks (I could not banish the lame “quiddich players like the stick” jokes that kept running through my head), and another that sold ingredients of potions. The last one kept my interest out of morbid curiosity. Those poor newts!

It was around two that I found Knockturn Alley. The only reason it caught my eye was because I saw a glimpse of what appeared to be a very fine cloak vanishing into it. The place was dark, damp, and had ‘rapist hiding in the shadows’ plastered all over it. But I heard the click of a cane and saw the back of fine clothing and long, long wispy pale hair and was curious. Besides, if this was the sort of place that gentlemen visited, that meant there was something interesting down here. Maybe the place where my aunt got that dildo.

I followed. Didn’t do a very good job at it. Because I had almost reached the end of the alley, passed a handful of dingy shop signs I couldn’t decipher, and had completely lost the person I was following.

“Hell,” I said, “What a waste.”

I turned to go back the way I had come and attempt to figure out which scary shop door to try first. A hand closed on the back of my shirt. My cousin’s wand was pulled from my back pocket. I was spun about and slammed against the brick and found myself with an elegant black wand shoved in my face. The wielder of it was a very handsome man with the same pale blond hair I’d seen earlier, very fine clothing decorated with snakes, albeit a bit out of place in my world, and a haughty expression that bordered on anger. I concentrated on the wand that was just inches from my nose. Oh, so many wisecracks, so little time.

“You,” he said evenly, “were following me.”

“Way to go genius. If you can’t tell by my accent, I’m visiting here, and figured I’d explore the slummy side. So which of these fine establishments do you frequent?” I jerked my head towards the stores to our right. He pressed his wand closer.

“None of your business. You will leave now, and forget you saw me.”

“Righto. Just get your wand out of my face, I don’t give blowjobs for free.”

His nostrils flared. I’m sure he was trying to figure out if he’d just heard what he thinks he did.

“Yeah, that’s right,” I said, clearly not knowing when to stop, “I don’t appreciate your compensation for dick size shoved up in my face, thankyouverymuch.”

The man slammed me against the wall again, harder this time, and knocked all the air out of me. Pinned me there. He was surprisingly strong under all that arrogance and fancy clothing.

“You do not speak to me in such a manner!” he hissed, his eyes dilated with anger, “Do not forget, I am currently holding your wand.”

I saw it sticking out of his coat pocket.

“Except I was at a disadvantage to begin with – can’t use a wand – I’m a muggle.”

He let go of me as fast as you’d let go of a sewer rat you just found out wasn’t, in fact, a puppy dog. I took the opportunity to knee him in the balls, grab my cousin’s wand, and run.

Something like an invisible fist hit me in the back. Grabbed me. Held me in the air, and everything went white and it was like my innards were being ripped out – again. Three times in the past 48 hours. I was really starting to like Europe now. Then it released me and I collapsed on the ground. I heard measured footsteps towards me and I pretended to just be balled up agony. I always got the boyfriends with the interesting fetishes and that had left me with a decent pain tolerance. I doubted he knew that.

“Filthy muggle,” he hissed, “How did you even GET here? Worthless trash.”

And he continued on that vein for a minute. I calculated distance and how much force it would be to break his kneecap or if I should go for the wand first. Well, he eventually wrapped up and pointed the stick at me. I was on my feet and lunging. Didn’t hear his incantation. Don’t know if it was the one he intended to get off. All I knew is that – for the fourth time – my innards were rearranged and when I regained my bearings, I was no longer in Knockturn Alley. I was no longer in the city. I was somewhere in the country, alongside a dirt road, and I was completely naked.

“Well, SHIT.”
To make matters worse, I could hear a car coming. Well, roaring more like it. Sounded like someone was out for a joyride. I didn’t waste time lamenting my prospects, trying to figure out what had just happened, or even modesty for that matter. I just stepped back, struck a sexy pose so the incoming traffic would get a full view of my boobs, and waited.

The car was an old model convertible and piloted by what appeared to be two teenage boys with flaming red hair. They screamed up over the ridge, saw me, slammed on the brakes, and slid past before coming to a full stop. I waited while they backed up. They were both freckle-faced and wearing sunglasses. The one in the passenger’s seat took his off and ogled me up and down.

“Well, hello there,” he said. I was impressed. He didn’t appear rattled at the sight of a naked girl on the side of the road.

“Hello yourself,” I said, “Going into town?”

The other practically climbed over his passenger. They were very similar in appearance and I figured they were brothers, if not twins.

“We are if you are,” he said, “Hop in!”

I gladly complied, leaping over the door and sprawling in their back seat.

“Have to ask,” I said, “Where is here, anyways?”’

“Near the Burrow,” the driver said, “Errr, you the sort that would know that place?”

“Depends on what sort you’re referring to. If you’re talking about the sort that likes handcuffs, lemon meringue pie, and nipple clamps then I don’t, but would like to. If you’re talking about the sort that gets blasted by a man in a dark alley with a magic wand and dropped in the middle of nowhere without her clothing, then yes, and that was not meant to be innuendo.”

I honestly didn’t expect them to be wizards. Last I checked, wizards didn’t use cars. They had brooms. But the two swiveled to stare at me.

“If that’s not innuendo, are you saying that someone hexed your clothing off-“ the driver said.

“-and forcibly apparated you elsewhere?” his brother/twin finished.

“Uh, I didn’t understand a word of that, but it sounds about right. There was a wand involved and maybe I shouldn’t have insulted his masculinity,” I said thoughtfully.

The two exchanged glances.

“Actually, forget going into town. We’re taking you to the Burrow – that’s our home. Mum will need to hear this.”

"George, she’s going to go crazy when we drag in a naked girl,” the other hissed.

“I know Fred,” he replied with a laugh, “It’s gonna be great. Let’s go.”

And he floored it.