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11:18 p.m. The orange line toward Montmorency.
Still 12 more stations before arriving home.
I’m absent-mindedly reading The Goblet of Fire—the fourth book in the oh-so-popular Harry Potter saga.
The fact that I’m not 100% focused doesn’t really bother me. This is probably the eighth time I’m reading the series, so Harry and his gang don’t have many secrets for me anymore.
I admit having thought long and hard about what I should do when J.K. Rowling started appearing in the press in 2019 for the wrong reasons (transphobic tweets). What do you do when the author of your favourite novels makes remarks that go against your values?
To be honest, I’m still thinking about it. For me, the Harry Potter universe has had an incredible impact on my life, imagination, and creativity. My childhood would have been much more drab without it.
The compromise I settled on was to restrict myself to re-reading the books I already own and not further contribute to J.K.’s wealth in any way, while also educating myself on trans issues and vocally disapproving of her dangerous and erroneous comments on social media.
All this to say that I’m struggling to stay awake
while pursuing my Harry Potter reading and thinking about what had happened earlier today.
Don’t ask why, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell Henry where I work. Instead, I had lied and told him that I worked in a thrift shop in Hochelaga.
I was embarrassed to tell him that I was actually working as a waitress downtown at Ladies in Red. It’s so stupid: I claim female emancipation, but when I finally meet a guy I’m really into, I can’t even tell him that I earn my living by serving spare ribs , scantily clad (out loud, this sentence could have led people to believe that the ribs were the ones that were sexed up… thank goodness for the written word!).
The expression on his face when he walked in at the bar with his buddies and saw me was therefore priceless.
Thankfully, he took it pretty well. He seemed to think it was cool and not a big deal.
Significant green flag.
Distractedly, I started thinking about last night.
I had rarely seen such beautiful collarbones on a human being. I don’t know why I hadn’t noticed them before.
I can see myself sitting on the kitchen counter. His hands clutching my thighs, his head buried between them.
His acrobatic tongue twisting and dancing lasciviously between my legs.
My lower abdomen is warming up just thinking about it.
More than eight stations before arriving at Jarry.
I have a bit of time to rest my eyes.
When I reopen them, 10 or 53 minutes later, I realize that I snoozed past my stop. Fuck.
I’m almost at the end of the orange line, but… something’s off.
Michèle Desrosiers’s familiar voice blares on the intercom: “Next station, Hogwarts.”
Before I even have the time to understand what’s going on, the train stops and the doors open. I realize that I’m no longer wearing my denim coat and backpack but a black cloak and a bookbag.
Surprisingly, I don’t clash at all with my surroundings: everyone seems to be dressed the same.
I exit the car and follow a crowd of young people, each more breathtakingly beautiful than the next, who are chatting and laughing among themselves.
I notice a map of the metro system on the wall and the names of the stations tell me that I am definitely not close to home: Ass-Kaban, Platform Nine Inches and Three Quarters, and The Moaning Shack, to name a few.
I feel a hand on my arm.
“Charlie! What are you doing? We’re waiting for you for class to begin.”
Ok. So, I don’t know where I am, but it looks like people know who I am. I feel like I should be panicking, but I can feel magic in the air, and it makes me feel good.
The girl holding my arm leads me out of the station and we begin to wander down a narrow path, which, according to a small sign on a brick wall, is called the Diabox Alley.
“Charlie! Hermyhoney! We were waiting for you!” says a tall, handsome guy with dark hair and green eyes as he catches up to us.
“Neville Longdong! How kind of you,” replied the one-whose-name-I-now-know.
“It’s just that you’re always top of the class and I know we’re going to learn a lot from you,” the hot young man added, kissing my new friend on the cheek.
As we walked towards this mystery class, I took a look at the shops on the street: a rather interesting mix of Hogwarts and Amsterdam.
Through the window of Ollivander: Magic Wands and Other Naughty Toys, I see a young woman sitting on a stool, writhing in pleasure. In front of her, a woman in a suit, who I am guessing works there, gently inserts a vibrator between her spread legs. All around them, hundreds of dildos in all shapes and colours float in the air in front of a sign that reads “Which wand is made for you?”
On the other side of the street, an aphrodisiac candy store advertises that Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Peens, Chocolate Rods, and Cauldron Coochies are on sale.
Totally distracted by everything around me, I don’t look where I’m going and I bump into a mischievous-eyed man wearing a large blue cloak.
“Don’t mind us, Professor Fapwick, we’re late for class!” shouts Hermyhoney before leading me further down the alley.
We turn onto another small alley and enter the first room on the left. It looks like a normal classroom, except for the stage at the front on which a bed and four velvet armchairs (one red, one green, one blue, and one yellow) are arranged.
Imitating my two new friends, I sit in the front row and open my briefcase. Surprise: in it, I find the 2054th edition of the Kama Sutra, a small bright red vibrator, a pair of glittery handcuffs, two golden snitches serving as Qi Gong balls, and condoms (including a condom with three “heads”).
A bell is rung that sounds a bit like this famous striptease tune, prompting a Penelope Cruz doppelganger sporting a long black dress to appear on the stage.
“Welcome to Cumming Against the Dark Arts!” she says. I am Professor Dominatrix Lestrange and I am in charge of teaching you the basics of pleasure. As this is your last class at Hogwarts University, I expect you to apply everything you have learned over the past few years. Any questions?”
A redhead next to me raises his hand: “Can we have your help with the exercises in this course? Professor McDeepthroat was rather hands-off during her Trance Training class and it was a bit difficult at times.”
“Here, I believe it is my duty to guide you as much as possible to help you prepare for the real pleasure that you will face in your post-Hogwarts life,” replies the professor. “So, I might join you quite often, Mr. Ron… Weiner. Is that right?”
“Yes. How did you know?”
“Let’s just say that after having taught all your brothers… Your red bush is a good clue.”
The classroom fills with laughter.
I turn to Ron and realize that his cloak is open, exposing his cock. He laughs before winking at me and covering himself.
The teacher hastens to add: “It’s ok. You’ve simply gone ahead of us, Mr. Weiner. So let’s start with you and a partner of your choice. I’d like everyone to remove their cloaks for this first exercise.”
Everyone immediately drops their cloaks. Some students are completely naked, others like Hermyhoney are wearing underwear. Hers are black lace with gold thread. Longdong, on the other hand, is completely naked and, without much surprise, lives up to his name.
So, I go along and take off my cloak, only to find that I’m wearing nothing but a white feathered thong.
“I’d like to pair up with Luna Fucksgood, Professor Lestrange,” says Ron.
The platinum blonde in a blue corset next to him gets up and they both join the professor on the stage.
“Today’s lesson is likely to be challenging,” explains Professor Lestrange. You will titillate each other in a very pleasurable way without allowing yourselves to experience orgasm. We will first work on the rise of arousal and pleasure so you can understand the power of patience.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
On the bed, Luna lies on her back and begins to subtly sway her hips, calmly and distractedly, as if she didn’t have an audience of 48 students (of age and vaccinated) right in front of her.
Ron slowly approaches her and begins to kiss her ankles. He then lingers on her calves, which he strokes and kisses sensually.
He slowly works his way up to Luna’s inner thighs. She sighs and her long sky blue nails get lost in Ron’s red mane.
I see him gently nibbling on his partner’s flesh before she sighs, “I want you”.
Understanding this as his cue, Weiner grabs a long dildo and exclaims “AlohoVulva!” Luna’s corset unlaces and flies to the floor.
The blonde arches her back and spreads her legs, revealing her pussy to the redhead in front of her, to Professor Lestrange, who is biting her lip, and to the rest of the class who suddenly seem to be warming up on the benches.
Filled with excitement, Ron buries his head between Luna’s legs.
She sighs and I lose sight of Ron’s face as he eats out his partner. She runs her hands over her own body, focusing on her breasts, then her nipples, which immediately harden.
“Let your pleasure increase without going all the way, Luna,” shouts Professor Lestrange. “Try rippling your pelvis under Ron’s tongue.”
Luna does so, panting more and more.
Suddenly, she turns and looks at us. I followed her gaze and quickly realized that Hermyhoney had caught her eye by having taken out her burgundy magic dildo and licking it while staring at Luna. Without taking her eyes off her classmate, she makes the dildo disappear between her thighs.
Luna is moaning now, holding Ron’s head.
Next to me, Hermyhoney closed her eyes and spread her legs, also putting on a show. Quickly, she begins to shiver, one hand under her ass and the other clinging to her desk.
Luna, unable to look away, moans even louder, throwing in the odd “oh yeah” and “come on, don’t be a Muggle: go ahead”.
Suddenly, sparks start flying out of Luna’s fingertips, her entire body becomes electrified and inflamed, a big pow! rings out, and she lets out a deep sigh.
“Two minutes and thirteen seconds. Not bad, but not excellent,” says the prof.
“It’s not fair! It’s Hermyhoney’s fault,” Luna replies with a laugh as she gets off the stage.
“Actually, what Hermyhoney did was excellent. She has shown you that there is more beyond what goes on between your legs that can contribute to your pleasure. We’re going to work on that. The next two guinea pigs will be… Charlie Magic and Draco Malfornicate.”
Hermyhoney whispers “Good luck!” in my ear as I see a young Chad Michael Murray lookalike approach me.
“Come on,” he says softly, putting his hand on my shoulder.
I open my eyes and look out the train window.
Shit. Montmorency. I missed my stop.
“Come on, you need to get off, it’s the last station,” a carbon copy of Penelope Cruz tells me, her hand on my shoulder.
I get up and step out of the car, a bit sad to have missed what was in store for me at fantasy Hogwarts.
See you in a future dream, Draco.