The Wet T-Shirt Contest
Disclaimer: Not Mine. No Profit. No Shit.
by Big D
Susan’s brow furrowed prettily. “But witches don’t wear t-shirts,” she said, “Those are for muggles.”
“That’s why I had these nice white silk robes made,” Harry answered, holding up an obscenely sheer garment that would barely reach hip length on her.
The entirely-too-gullible redhead pouted, a very nice look on her. “And you’re sure that this will help in the fight against Who-Know-Who?” she asked warily.
“Absolutely,” Harry stated confidently. “It’s all part of the ritual I’m using to steal his power. But the spell needs lots of ambient magical energy, and the best way to get it is by exciting the crowd. So you be real enthusiastic out there, all right?” He smiled at her. I’m counting on you, Susan.”
She stood up a little straighter, thrusting her chest out like a soldier. It was another good look on her. “I won’t let you down, Harry,” she declared, taking the scanty robe from him and holding it to her ample bosom.
He smiled at her again and she shivered slightly. “I know you won’t.”
Harry lingered near the door just long enough to catch a glimpse of her smooth, bare back as she turned away from him and began to change, then slipped out and entered the room across the hall.
“Lacereus!” an angry voice hissed as he stepped inside.
He had been expecting something like this, and batted the Slashing Curse away with his wand before returning with a Disarming Spell. Snatching Daphne’s wand out of the air and tucking it into his belt, he waggled a finger at her playfully.
“Now, now,” he admonished. “Is that any way to treat someone who rescued you from a fate worse than death?”
Smouldering dark eyes regarded him as her lips curled into a snarl. “Can’t I just spread my legs for you and be done with it?” she asked waspishly.
Harry frowned and thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. “Maybe on the second date. I don’t want people thinking you’re a scarlet woman or anything.”
She looked at him as if he had grown a second head. “You are so... odd,” she said distastefully. “How did you ever end up in Gryffindor, anyway?”
He flashed her another somewhat maniacal grin. “The Hat only put me there because Dumbledore took away it’s supply of German scat porn and it was being vindictive.”
She frowned again and mouthed ‘German scat porn?’ like she couldn’t imagine those three words ever possibly being put together in a sentence. “I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know what that means, but I’m absolutely certain that I’m not going to go out there and expose myself to those drunken perverts.”
Harry shrugged unconcernedly. “It’s your choice. If you want to live the rest of your life as a Squib, then you’re more than welcome to leave.”
A flash of fear swept across her face and she gulped worriedly. “You wouldn’t let that happen.”
Harry raised an eyebrow at her. “You’re the one who swore on your magic to do anything I asked of you after I rescued you from Fenrir Greyback,” he said pointedly.
She threw up her arms in frustration. “That’s because I thought you were a goodie-goodie Nancy-boy who would cave in and let me out of it,” she huffed. “I never figured you’d make me the entertainment at one of the Weasel boy’s bachelor parties!”
Harry shrugged again. “Live and learn. You should have caught me during fifth year. That’s when I went through my whiny pussy phase.” He tossed her a robe identical to the one he had given Susan. “Don’t forget to smile and pretend like you’re having fun.” He walked towards the door, then stopped. “And especially don’t forget to bounce.”
He stepped out of the back area and into the common room of the Hog’s Head, which was packed to the gills with people who raised their drinks and hailed him loudly as he passed. Bill’s constant work-related travel meant that he didn’t have a huge number of close friends, at least not ones who could make it to England before the wedding, so apart from the male Weasleys and a handful of disinterested-looking goblins, the room was filled with members of the DA, a few of the Order of the Phoenix, Puddlemere United’s starting seven, and rather surprisingly, one Dudley Dursley, who had somehow convinced Dedalus Diggle to escort him here from wherever he and his family were being hidden.
It was Harry’s own fault for accepting the olive branch that Dudley had offered back at number four and deciding to write to him. Somewhere in the letter he had casually mentioned that he was throwing a bachelor party for Bill Weasley, and the next thing he knew, Dudley was happily accepting a never-offered invitation. At the moment, he was sitting over in a corner with about a dozen empty bottles of butterbeer at his feet and Fred and George on either side of him, cheerfully slurring out a story about the time “these two dumb red-headed freaks” had enlarged his tongue, and describing in detail how he would mop the floor with them if he ever met those blokes again.
The twins shared a gleeful look over Dudley’s beefy shoulders and Harry made a mental note to convince them to hold off on whatever they were planning, at least long enough for him to track down a camera in order to properly document it.
Accepting a drink from one of the Puddlemere players, he waived his wand and conjured a small stage just to the left of the bar and stepped up onto it. Holding his drink up, he motioned for everyone’s attention.
“We are gathered here today to bid a fond farewell to our good friend Bill Weasley, who... for some inexplicable reason, has decided to make me his best man, despite the fact that we barely know each other. He told me that he did it because I’ve saved the life of pretty much every single member of his family at one time or another... but the truth is that he didn’t ask any of his brothers because he secretly hates them and wishes he were an only child.”
This statement was met with good-natured boos and small projectiles from Bill’s brothers, and an agreeable nod and wave from the man himself.
“Normally at this point I’d say something about the tragedy of how he was consigning himself to a lifetime of stale, boring sex with only one woman, but I think we can skip over that part for two reasons. One, she’s pretty much the hottest bird I’ve ever seen in my entire life, to the point where I’ve often had to skive off lessons so that I could go have a good wank while thinking about her in a dripping wet bathing suit during the Second Task. And two... well, let’s face it, she’s way too good for him and will probably get bored and divorce his mutilated carcass before the end of the year, which means that we will all very soon be gathering again for a ‘Welcome Back to Bachelorhood Party’, which will be much more fun than this one because it will involve scores of hookers polyjuiced to look like Fleur so that we can all have a go at her.”
A happy cheer filled the common room. Oddly enough, Bill didn’t join in.
Harry waived a hand to quiet the crowd. “But enough of this rubbish. What would a bachelor party be without a few pairs of barely legal teenaged breasts?” Thunderous applause. “So in the spirit of dirty old men everywhere, I proudly present... Slytherin versus Hufflepuff, the way it was meant to be!!!”
He flicked his wand and a deep gong sound rang out. A second or two later, the back door opened and Daphne and Susan emerged with huge smiles plastered across their faces. Susan’s was more or less genuine, and she happily skipped up to her place on the stage, light auburn hair swinging from side to side as her silk robe swished around her hips. Her hazel eyes sparkled as she waived at the guests, and she took their hoots and catcalls with her normal good cheer, even once spinning around in place so that her criminally brief robe flared out to show off her long, smooth legs and adorable white cotton knickers.
Daphne’s smile didn’t quite touch her eyes, but she played her role to perfection. Rather than jiggle her way to the stage as Susan had done, she strutted like a professional model, swaying her hips from side to side and making eye contact with seemingly every man in the room. As she passed Bill, she reached out with the back of her hand and trailed her fingers lightly across his scarred cheeks, an act that proved that even the coolest Weasley brother could blush just as deeply as the rest of his kin.
The look that Daphne flashed at Harry as she glided past him was just as passionate as the other ones she had been passing around the room, but rather than smouldering sensuality, it was filled with dry, angry fire. It was a look that promised that, one way or another, she would get back at him for this... what’s more, she was looking forward to it.
Harry returned the look with a feral grin that made her blink uncomfortably for a moment before the mask of cheerful enthusiasm settled over her face again and she turned back to the crowd, striking a pose with her hips cocked playfully to the side and one hand settled on her waist, a brilliant smile filling her lovely face. He couldn’t help but admire her poise. He’d half expected to have to drag her up here, spitting and biting like the angry serpent she was.
Of course, just because his respect for her had shot up a few notches didn’t mean that he wouldn’t be selling pictures of this event to every horny teenage boy at Hogwarts. It just meant that he might summon up enough chivalry to blot out her face in the photos.
“Wood,” he barked, hopping down from the stage and addressing his former quidditch captain. “I told you that if you wanted to come to the party you and your friends would have to do something useful.” He grinned and jerked a thumb at the nearly naked girls. “Now’s your chance.”
Oliver cottoned on immediately, clapping his hands in excitement. “Come on, boys,” he said to his Puddlemere teammates, hopping up from his seat and drawing his wand, “Harry here needs a firing squad, and we’re it.”
Harry dropped himself into the seat next to Bill as the rather-sloshed United players staggered from their seats and tried to get themselves sorted out in a row just in front of the stage. He flicked his wand again, levitating the platform half a meter or so, then added a simple perimeter vanishing charm for good measure, so the place wouldn’t flood from the runoff.
Bill leaned over and nudged him. “Not that I’m not appreciative or anything,” he said, “but how the heck did you convince those two to do this?”
Harry shrugged. “Daphne owed me a favor for pulling her out of that wolf den in Kent,” he explained, skirting around the fact that, in her desperately relieved and babbling state, she had unthinkingly sworn him a magical oath that practically amounted to a servant bond.
Bill frowned and unconsciously touched one of the ragged scars that adorned his face. He had been part of the team that had gone to Kent, having gone there over the objections of pretty much everyone except Harry, hoping to get some payback from Fenrir. Except Harry had found the werewolf leader first. “I don’t remember her being in any of the dungeons,” he said quietly. Bill’s eyes tightened at the memory of blood splattered walls and cold stone floors with drains in them; of exhausted, terrified people, most of them muggles and far too few of them still alive, who were being kept as human cattle for the voracious monsters above. They had found small bones and clothing there, but no living children. The wolves had already eaten them.
“She wasn’t in the dungeons,” Harry answered, glancing over at the girl in question. “Grayback had her in his personal chambers. He was still in the classic ‘tell-the-naked-sobbing-girl-about-all-the-vile-and-disgusting-things-that-you’re-going-to-do-to-her-and-then-later-to-her-corpse’ phase when I was able to get the drop on him.”
Bill picked up the smoking firewhiskey on the table beside him and downed it in a single gulp, shaking his head to clear the images behind his eyes. Tonight wasn’t the night for those kinds of thoughts. Tonight was a night to forget the war that was raging across Europe and widening by the day, consuming more and more lives by the second and threatening to destroy both the Wizarding and Muggle worlds. Tonight was a night to celebrate.
Tonight was a night for barely legal teenaged breasts.
“So what about Susan? You slay a dragon for her or something?”
Harry chuckled. “Nah, I just told her it would help me defeat Voldemort,” he said with a grin. “Some kind of ritual thing, she won’t know the difference.”
Bill shook his head, but chuckled as well. “You’re a sick man, Potter.”
He shrugged. “Not my fault she’s dumb as a broken post.”
Bill sighed. “She’s not that stupid, she just trusts you.”
“Sounds stupid to me.”
“Sick, I say.”
“You’re just jealous that you didn’t think of it first.”
The Puddlemere boys had finally gotten themselves set up in a line on one knee, wands at the ready with Oliver off to one side playing sergeant-at-arms. Daphne and Susan were doing their part, twisting and preening for the rapidly heating crowd in preparation for their soaking. Susan looked a touch nervous, biting her lip and unconsciously tugging at the hem of her tiny robe, which only served to stretch it taught across her breasts in an innocently sexy way, showing off the full swells and an impression of the narrow valley that separated them. Through the sheer garment, the partygoers could see just a hint of the perfectly round, light pink tips that were slowly growing firmer and tenting out the fabric under the lustful stares of a roomful of drunk men.
If Susan was giving off the impression of a slightly horny angel, then Daphne was clearly her infernal counterpart. She managed to shamelessly pander to the crowd while somehow doing nothing more than suggest and entice. It was all in the way she stood, the way she held herself so that your eyes were almost inevitably drawn to her feet and forced to slowly work their way up along the lightly rounded calves and smooth, slender thighs covered in perfect, naturally tanned skin, to the place where the pure white of her robe cut off the view with disappointing suddenness.
From the way she shifted and posed, Harry kept getting the impression that what was hidden underneath that hem was just about to be revealed, but every time he thought it might be, the fabric seemed to settle around her hips again. If he wasn’t holding her wand, he might have thought that it was magic. His eyes moved up, watching the shadows play across the folds of her thin covering... even that seemed artistic. He took a moment to watch her hands as she moved them from place to place, first running the tips of her fingers along the exposed part of her thighs, then moving to trail her palm across her abdomen for a brief moment, showing the impression of a nicely trim waist and flat stomach in the cloth before reaching up to touch her lips, pulling the bottom one down into a sultry half-pout. With just her index finger, Daphne traced a line down her chin and throat, swirling the pad of her digit around the hollow of her throat. Harry glanced up at her eyes and found them boring into his, the anger replaced by wry amusement for the moment, as if some private joke had just occurred to her.
Harry didn’t need Occlumency to know what she was thinking. She had just realized that, while he may have had a certain amount of power over her, she also had her own power over him. The proof was evident by the growing bulge pressing against the front of his trousers. He returned her look with a challenging one and could almost hear the mocking laughter trying to bubble out of her.
“Reeeaaaa-dddy,” Wood barked to his teammates.
Susan closed her eyes and turned her face to the side slightly, taking a deep breath that pushed her chest out.
Daphne tilted her head back as if she were luxuriating under a warm shower and brought her hands together so that her arms pushed her breasts against each other, pressing them up and forward.
“Aquamenti!!!” the other six Puddlemere members shouted together. Streams of water erupted from the tips of their wands, in differing sizes and strengths, but all reasonably gentle. Susan and Daphne both yelped as the cooler-than-expected water struck them, pasting the white silk to their skin as it happily sluiced its way down their bodies.
Susan laughed and turned a slow circle, letting them soak every inch of her. She waggled her backside playfully at Harry and the others, the wet cloth adding to the allure of her well-rounded cheeks, framed as they were by a second layer of tiny knickers. One of the boys got a little cheeky and aimed his spray lower. Susan squeaked loudly and jumped as she felt a healthy flow of water splash across her most tender area and flashed an uncharacteristically dark look at the Chaser in question, who had the grace to blush and mutter an apology.
Daphne was leaning forward at the waist, her head still tilted back to show the full expanse of her slim throat as she swayed from side to side, letting the water course its way down her neck and cascade over her breasts. She wasn’t quite as lusciously curved as Susan, but her long, toned frame made what she did have seem just that much more delectable. Suddenly, she whipped her head around, droplets flying off of her wet hair in every direction as she faced the crowd through a wavy curtain of dark, limp strands. She moved her hands up along the plain of her stomach to cup her breasts, her tongue slithering out to lap at the beads of water building along her top lip.
Susan stretched her arms far over her head, shaking her shoulders, setting her jubblies to jiggling nicely. After a few moments, she let her hands drift back down to slide through her hair as she turned to the side and showed off her impressive profile, back arched and twisting sinuously for the full effect.
Harry could sense the men around him getting worked up to the point where it was becoming vaguely uncomfortable, and made a mental note to crucio the first motherfucker who tried to whip out his cock. A bit of male bonding whilst ogling naked women was all well and good, but he didn’t want anyone starting rumors about him like the ones that had popped up about Dumbledore after he died.
A slow smile quirked one side of Daphne’s mouth as she looked to her right and noticed that Susan was facing away from her. The smile became a smirk in an instant, as she smoothly glided up behind the Hufflepuff girl and pressed herself firmly against Susan’s back, wrapping her arms around the other girl’s waist and dipping her head to lay a soft kiss along the side of her neck.
Susan stiffened and blushed, glancing over at Harry questioningly. He was just as surprised as she was by Greengrass’s actions, but simply shrugged and nodded encouragingly at her. Susan gulped, but didn’t resist as Daphne’s lips worked their way down to her shoulder, pulling the neckline of her robe aside to reach the pale, smooth skin underneath. She kissed her way to the place where Susan’s collarbone and shoulder met, then made a show of biting down softly. Susan shivered, and this time it didn’t have anything to do with the cool water drenching her.
Greengrass gently but firmly nudged Susan to turn so that she was facing the crowd with Daphne mostly hidden behind her, and let her left hand drift down to the hem of Susan’s robe, gathering it up and slipping underneath it to caress the lower part of the other girl’s abdomen. Her littlest finger ran teasingly along the edge of Susan’s knickers before traveling slowly upwards, pulling the front of her robe with it, exposing more and more delicate flesh as it moved up towards her ribcage. Susan shivered again, her breaths coming in soft little gasps as Daphne’s stroking fingers tickled and caressed their way up her midriff to the bottom of her sternum. Her right had hand replaced her left at Susan’s waist, her thumb rubbing circles just beneath Susan’s navel. She pressed the left one flat against the other girl’s diaphragm and slid it slowly up into the water slick valley between Susan’s breasts, beneath the part of the robe that still covered her.
Susan had apparently forgotten about her earlier reservations, because she now eagerly leaned back into Daphne, silently urging her onwards. Greengrass didn’t disappoint, bringing her hands up to cup and fondle Susan’s breasts, so that her the back of her palms and splayed fingers were what showed through the damp fabric. She leaned in close to nip at Susan’s ear, making the girl jump, then smile in a surprisingly naughty way.
Harry got the sudden feeling that the two of them had completely forgotten that anyone was watching them.
Susan pushed her hips back against the Slytherin girl, grinding her backside against Daphne’s pelvis and thrusting her chest forward into the other girl’s hands, seeking even more skin to skin contact. Her own hands worked their way behind her to caress Daphne’s hips and flanks, any place she could reach from that position. Apparently it wasn’t enough for her, because she let out an annoyed little huff and spun around in Daphne’s grasp, bringing them face to face.
Harry caught a quick look of surprise on the portion of Daphne’s face that he could see as Susan grabbed hold of her and crushed their lips together. Her eyelids fluttered for a moment before she let herself be drawn fully into the kiss, her own hands reaching around to slide across the damp, silky smooth flesh of Susan’s back, rubbing along the low groove which started just below her neck and led all the way down to her well-rounded cheeks. Disappointed cries went up from the crowd due to the fact that most of the action was now hidden from them, but neither girl seemed to notice or care. Harry flicked his wand and rotated the stage so that the girls were now in profile.
Daphne let out a low, growling moan as Susan nibbled lightly along her lower lip, her hands kneading the Slytherin girl’s rump with rhythmic, open and closed motions, like a cat settling down for a nap. Greengrass leaned her head back to let Susan nuzzle her neck and kiss all the way down to her collarbone. The two girl’s breasts were pressed tightly together, pushing and sliding against each other with the motions of their bodies.
If Harry needed anymore proof that the two of them had become lost in each other, it came when Daphne’s hand drifted around Susan’s waist to slip between them to press against her lightly-furred, barely covered snatch. Susan gasped and the boys cheered, but then a moment later they all jumped as the sound of the front door crashing open reached their ears. Harry jerked around, instinctively grasping his wand in preparation to draw. In his experience, crashing doors were almost never followed by anything good.
Minerva McGonagall stalked into the room, furious brown eyes taking in the gaggle of drunk and horny boys surrounding two of her female students. Her hands went to her mouth in shock as she got a good look at Susan and Daphne, who jerked away from each other as if they were on fire. Angrily, the Hogwarts Headmistresses eyes scanned the crowd, looking for the person she knew must be responsible for all this. Sure enough, they quickly fixed on Harry.
For the first time in a great while, Harry felt a shiver of fear run down his spine. McGonagall drew herself up with all the indignation she could muster, and opened her mouth to speak. “Mister Pot-”
Oh, fuck dealing with that. “Oblivate!” he chanted, whipping out his wand and pointing it at his former Head of House. McGonagall blinked and stood there, her eyes blank, swaying slightly as the spell swept through her brain, forcing her mind to rebuild the recent sequence of events around the holes that Harry had poked in her memory.
The room was dead silent as Harry stood. He glanced around and saw that most everyone was staring at him in shock and a small amount of fear. Except for Daphne, who had a wry smirk of approval on her face.
“Is that... legal,” one of the Puddlemere chasers asked tentatively. “You know, just... memory charming someone like that?”
“What’s a memory charm,” Dudley wondered out loud. “Hey, Harry, is the old lady gonna dance too, because if she is, I’m going home.”
“Oh, bollocks,” Harry muttered in annoyance. When he committed a crime, he generally preferred doing in front of fewer witnesses. He frowned and shot a significant look at Daphne, who caught on immediately, reaching up to clap a hand over Susan’s eyes while closing her own and turning her face away from him.
“OBLIVIATE!!!” Harry cast again, sweeping his wand so that it covered the entire room. A moment later, Bill and the others were in the same state as McGonagall, staring blankly into space. Daphne grabbed a confused Susan by the hand and led her towards the door while Harry summoned their clothes from the back and quickly vanished the stage.
Greengrass shot him a fierce grin as she wrapped her cloak around her and peeked outside to make sure no one was looking. “Do you suppose we could call this the second date now,” she purred seductively, “Seeing as we were so rudely interrupted.” She glanced at Susan and licked her lips. “A double date, even.”
Harry returned the smile, along with her wand. “I know just the place.”
Susan frowned. “What are you guys talking about?”
Harry chuckled. “Nothing, sweetie. We just need to go finish the second part of the ritual I told you about. You still wanna help?”
Her cheeks reddened and she nodded eagerly. “Is it going to be as much fun as the first?”
He smiled again and wrapped an arm around each girl as the three of them left the pub.
AN: I suppose technically this is a cliffhanger, but for the moment I’m not planning on writing a second part (that could change, but I’m not promising anything). I was just having trouble deciding where to wrap this one up, and leaving it somewhat open-ended seemed like the best way.
I began this not long after I published the Hermione/Tracy mud-wrestling installment of “What Would Slytherin Harry Do?”, but stuck it on the back burner due to the fact that it felt too much like that story and I wanted to put a little distance between the two. This one-shot does not occur in the WWSHD universe, but as you may have noticed it’s very much in the same vein and can be taken as a kind of omake of that story. An alternate of an alternate, if you will.
Anyway, hope you liked it.
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