Dirty Harry Potter Fanfic

I could sit here and make “wand jokes” all day, but that would be cheap. The fact of the matter is, I don't have to make off collar remarks when referring to the fact that, yes, I have had sexual relations with Professor Snape. In fact, I'm proud of it. It all happened when I went to see him for extra credit, and being that I'm not the most skilled potions student in school, I had to perform in wizardly requirements. He laid back and said, "Pretend I'm your broom and you're down to 20 seconds left in the Quiddich final." Easier said than done, but I was in it for the win and immediate went to town on his mandrake, lighting the Lumos in his Triwizard Cup. I really got him going when I tamed his basilisk with some butter beer and wowed him with the versatility of my Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Bean. Once I found his Horcrux, I used my Philosopher's Stone to rub gently up the base of his Hippogriff. He seemed a little overwhelmed, and told me I lost house points for quaffle-pocking, but in the end, I got his golden snitch.
//JJ Brewis

Neville Longbottom entered the empty Hogwarts dining hall. At least, he thought it was empty, but a bellowing yet soothing voice greeted him by name. “Neville! Come hither.” The voice belonged to the Sorting Hat. Neville approached the hat, wearing nothing but his school-issued silk pyjamas that perfectly enveloped his chiseled, sixth year physique. “That’s a good lad, now why don’t you try me on?” Neville was confused, and therefore vulnerable. “But Sorting Hat, I’ve already been sorted. It’s forbidden to put you on my head again!” SH slyly crinkled his hat-face, “Then I guess you’ll have to put me on something else.” Neville was apprehensive “You want me to...” but before he could finish, his erect phallus had begun to ache beneath his trousers, as though it had been hit by a Petrificus Totalus spell. “Yes, Neville. I want you inside of me.” Neville complied, with gusto. The Sorting Hat gasped, learning all too quickly that Longbottom only told half the story. “You fuck as bravely as a Gryffindor, but as cunningly as a Slytherin.” The folds of the hat’s insides grew tighter with every thrust, until Neville just couldn’t hold it in anymore. He filled the hat with his pure-blood pure-semen. Beaming with post coital satisfaction, the Sorting Hat remarked “69 points for Gryffindor!”
//Jordan Potter

Thinking of Fleur in her well-fitting dress robe, Ron sighed. Like a Hungarian Horntail awakened after a lengthy sleep, Ron’s penis hardened in his pants. Sneaking upstairs to the privacy of his room, where the somewhat risqué edition of The Quibbler lay waiting for him, Ron revelled in his privacy. Before he could get down to business, however, a familiar voice shouted his name. Any chance of a Floo Powder explosion was gone.
Ron opened the door to find Hermione and Malfoy. “Oh hey,” he said, trying to cover up his illicit activities and wishing that he had some Felix Felicis.
“Hey Ron,” Hermione breathed, giving him the once-over. She was certainly a sexy schoolgirl.
“Malfoy was wondering if he could participate in our ... activities this afternoon?” She sighed. “He’s having trouble with his studies and I thought a little role play could help him out.”
Ron looked up in surprise. “Yeah,” said Malfoy, loosening his tie slowly. “You know, like a hero-villain-damsel-in-distress type deal?” He walked into Ron’s room and sprawled onto the bed.
Before Ron knew what was happening, Hermione pushed him back into his room, slamming the door behind them. He could tell that this would be one of the most magical nights of his life. Holy Hippogriff, yes.
//Samantha Thompson


Brought closer together by the threat of dark magic and the guidance of Dumbledore’s Army, twin sisters Padma and Parvati can only find comfort in each other, but what of their deeper desires? The mind of a twin is a complex emotional broomstick-ride, that no ordinary man can handle. It would take the heart of shared experience as a twin to be the broomstick in the Patil sister’s ride. Luckily for them, one night, after a DA meeting, the Patil sisters are approached by the brothers, Fred and George Weasley. Their crimson coifs held strong and their wands steady, “Your spell casting skills are much to be admired,” they quip together. “As is your aggressive yet elegant wand-work,” the Patil sisters return the compliment. Caught in the sheer lustful magnetism and the utter freakiness of it all, the Patil sisters soon discover that the only thing that can subdue their desires would be the twin blazing fires of Fred and George.
//Sam MacDonald

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