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Harry Potter and the Potion of Desperation


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This is a story I've had mulling about in my brain for a while in various iterations. This first chapter is just to set the scene, so not much desperation here. The rest of the story..... well, the tags say it all. 

Hope you all enjoy!

Chapter 1

'Why won't this damn potion thicken up?' Harry thought, stirring his cauldron slowly. 'I followed all of the directions exactly as Snape wrote on the board!'

Sweating slightly, he looked at Hermione's potion next to him. It was the exact same color, though her's had thickened to the consistency of ketchup while his was still as runny as water. Slowly adding in the final six porcupine quills, he prayed for a miracle. If he was successful, this would be the first potion he'd made all year that hadn't been an abject failure. If he was honest, with the color being correct, he still held out hope for at least and A this time rather than the T he had been getting on every potion this year. 

Looking in dismay at his potion, he was saddened to see that nothing had changed of the consistency. If anything, it looked almost more thin than before. Sighing, Harry turned off the flame under the cauldron. It was supposed to be a simple hair dye potion, but he doubted it would work in the current consistency.

"Bottle and label your potions," Snape said harshly, sneering at the Gryffindor side of the room. "Except you, Longbottom. Just get rid of that monstrosity, you idiotic child. Are you colorblind? Mustard yellow is not sky blue."

Harry sighed once more, bottling his potion and quickly labeling it. Grabbing a second vial, he quickly bottled the last of it and slipped the vial into his rucksack. Maybe Hermione could tell him what he had done wrong after class? The sooner he could get out of this class, the better. If only potions wasn't a required class to become an Auror, he wouldn't be worried about it. When would an Auror need to know how to make potions anyway?

Snape huffed slightly as he looked at the potion Harry placed in front of him. Obviously he was expecting a different color or something more obvious to nitpick the boy over. He didn't have time to, however, as Harry was not the only one turning in his potion at that time. 

'Would it even work being this thin?' Harry thought, packing the rest of his belongings up. 'Maybe it's just a variant on the recipe? I kind of want to try it to make sure it does work.'

Glancing once more at the vial he had tucked into his pack, he waited until the other students had turned in their assignments. It was just hair dye, nothing more or less. The way it was supposed to work was it would change your hair once into the color of your choice. The color would then last for a month without fading then change back to your natural color. 

Harry had been wondering what he would look like if he had gotten his mother's hair rather than his father's. It was a simple thing, but he doubted that he would be able to get the right shade using only muggle hair dye. He really hoped he had gotten a variant of the potion right. 

Leaving the potions classroom, he was rather disheartened when Hermione rushed off without saying so much as a goodbye. Ron and her had been fighting for a few days now and she had been strategically trying to avoid them both. So much for her looking over the potion to make sure he had done it right!

"Girls," Ron muttered as the walked out of the dungeons. "I didn't even say anything!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Ron, you asked why she didn't put the same effort into other parts of her life as she did studying."

"All I wanted to know was why she didn't ever try to fix her hair!"

"That's obviously not how she took it!" Harry said, exasperatedly.

"She was the one complaining about it!"

Harry sighed once more then dropped the topic. Ron could be so dense sometimes. He was notorious for putting his foot in his mouth. 

"Did you nick some of your potion?" Ron asked after a minute.

"Yeah," Harry said, looking around suspiciously. "I don't think I did it right though, it's more thin than it should be."

"You still on about having red hair then?" Ron grinned. If it worked, Harry would look like another member of the Weasleys. It would be hilarious for the Gryffindors to have yet another red-head at the table.

"I just want to see what I'd look like," Harry said, blushing slightly.

"I think you should try it anyways!" Ron said, enthusiastically. "What's the worst that could happen?"

Harry nodded, smiling. It was just hair dye. He was worried it could permanently change his hair color, but maybe if he took just a small dose he could see if it worked at all. If he did it right, a small dose would only tint his hair slightly and only for a few days.

What could possibly go wrong?
 

------------------------------

 

"Alright, you ready to do this?" Ron said excitedly as the entered the dorm.

The decision had been made to wait until after dinner to try out the potion. Harry didn't want to try it in the middle of the day and risk missing classes if it went horribly wrong. Besides, if he took it during classes, he wouldn't be able to check it in the mirror to see if it was changing progressively. The last thing he wanted was to go completely blonde like Malfoy! Not only that, but it was Friday and he would now have all weekend to figure out how to fix any issues which may have arisen. 

It was a perfect plan.

Fishing out the spoon he had nicked from the Great Hall for this purpose, Harry poured himself a spoonful and swallowed it down. He focused on his mother's hair, hoping that his hair would at least gain some of the red color she was known for. If it worked, he would only have to wait a few minutes for the potion to take effect.

He and Ron sat there for nearly half an hour waiting.

"Hate to break it to you, mate, but I don't think it worked," Ron said, sounding rather disappointed. 

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "Oh well. I'll just have to get Hermione to brew me some."

"You don't feel any different do you?" Ron said, now worried about the potential consequences of taking an untested potion.

"No, I feel fine," Harry said, yawning. "Just tired, but Katie damn near killed us in Quidditch practice today, so I don't think it's related to the potion."

Ron nodded. He, too, was absurdly sore and tired for the fifth time that week. Katie had taken up the mantle of Quidditch Captain quite well once Oliver left. Unfortunately for the team, this meant long, grueling practice sessions as they wanted to continue to better themselves as well as integrate new team members. 

"I'm utterly wiped, too," Ron said, mimicking Harry's yawn.

"You going to go to bed then?" Harry asked, pulling out his transfiguration book. There was an essay due in a few days and he wanted to get it done soon in case Katie decided to increase the length of practices more than what she already had.

Ron nodded and collapsed rather comically into bed, barely managing to take off his uniform before sleep overtook him. 

Harry chuckled at the sight of his friend laying half on the bed before turning back to his book. The properties of advanced transfiguration of matter from one state to another was a rough topic to slog through, but he wanted to get this chapter done before bed. If anything, it would put him in the mood to sleep anyways.

He was just finishing the chapter when he realized he really needed to use the loo. It was also getting quite late, so he took this as his cue to call it quits. He needed to get ready for bed anyways; he had never been able to fall asleep as quickly or easily as Ron. 

Standing up from his bed, Harry was surprised at how badly he needed to pee. He hadn't been studying for that long, had he? Squeezing himself slightly, he walked as quickly as he dared to the loo, wincing as he walked down the stairs and felt the liquid slosh around in his bladder. 

Reaching the nearest urinal, he quickly unzipped and barely managed to whip his member out before urine began jetting out almost uncontrollably. That would be the last time he drank so much pumpkin juice at dinner? Or maybe it was the new tea the house elves had put out?

'Yeah, that was probably it,' Harry thought, washing his hands and yawning. 'The tea.'

He went back up to the dorm and changed into his nightclothes, ready to climb into bed as soon as possible. Climbing under the covers and putting his glasses on the nightstand, he closed his eyes and quickly drifted off into a dreamland filled with red-heads and leaky taps.

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I'm glad you are enjoying this! I thoroughly enjoy reading reviews. I have some ideas for how I want this story to go, but if there is anything in particular that you would like to see in this, just let me know! In the mean time, enjoy!

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Chapter Two

Harry woke the next morning feeling completely unrested. He had had a rough night. He had needed to get up and use the loo at least three times throughout the night and each time he felt as though he wouldn’t make it. One of the times, he had to pause mid dash to squeeze his legs together because he was beginning to leak already. 

And waking up this morning, he was rather dismayed to find he needed to go just as desperately as he had the other times. 

‘How is this even possible,” Harry said, crossing his legs as his bladder violently protested the movement. ‘I just went like 2 hours ago!’

He didn’t have much time to concern himself with the timing of his bladder, however, as he needed to go NOW. Throwing his feet off the bed, he padded as fast as he could to the loo and peed for what felt like the millionth time. His pee didn’t smell or burn, so he knew it wasn’t a bladder infection. So what was going on?

“Morning, Harry,” Ron said, having woken up and followed the smaller boy into the loo. 

“Morning, Ron,” Harry said, finishing up and tucking himself away. “Hey, did you have any of the new tea last night?”

“No, I’m not a big fan of fruity teas,” Ron said, stretching. “Neville did though. Why?”

Harry couldn’t help but feel dismayed. Neville was still sleeping in the dorm and he hadn’t heard the boy getting up and down to the toilet nearly as frequently as he had been. 

“Nothing,” Harry said, trying not to blush. He was not going to admit this issue to his friend. Not a chance in hell. Nope. 

Ron shrugged as he washed his hands. “You going to the game today?”

“How could I miss it!” Harry said, excitedly. Today was the Slytherin v. Ravenclaw game. Both houses were extremely good players and routinely had long games simply due to the skill of them both. It was also a good opportunity to watch the teams plays and strategize how to beat them.

“Come on, lets get some breakfast!” Ron said, rubbing his stomach. “I’m starving!”

Harry snorted lightly and followed his friend back up to the dorm. Ron was always hungry and his appetite was beginning to garner quite a following with the younger years as they found it interesting to see how much he could actually shovel into his mouth. 

Quickly throwing on a simple shirt and jeans, Harry was dismayed to feel as though his bladder was filling again. It wasn’t bad yet, but he definitely could feel the growing pressure. He probably could make it through breakfast without having to go again. 

“Alright, lets go!” Harry said, urging Ron towards the door. 

The walk to the Great Hall seemed to stretch on for much longer than usual to Harry. Every twist and turn in the building reminded him of those dreams where you needed to pee but the toilet was just a bit too far away. It seemed almost surreal. As though he were moving through molasses.

“You ok?” Ron said, looking at his slightly dazed friend.

“Yeah,” Harry said, shaking himself slightly. “I didn’t sleep very well last night.”

“Really? I slept like a log!”

“I noticed,” Harry said, laughing slightly and tensing his lower abdomen as his bladder reminded him of how full he was becoming. What on Earth was going on? He was now beginning to doubt his earlier statement of not needing to go until after breakfast. At this rate, he’d definitely have to leave the table at some point. 

“Did… did you have anymore… you know?” Ron said, suddenly serious. The last time Harry looked as tired as he did was when he had been having nightmares/visions of Voldemort and hadn’t been able to sleep for more than a few hours at a time. 

Harry shook his head. “No, just wasn’t feeling very good last night for some reason.” 

Ron shook his head in understanding. He’d had nights like that as well, where he just felt overwhelmed or sore and just couldn’t get to sleep. Maybe Katie had been pushing them a bit too hard. They did have OWLS this year, after all. 

“Do you need to go to the Hospital Wing?” he asked, concerned as he noticed Harry wince slightly. 

“No, I’ll be fine,” Harry said, pausing as they neared the Great Hall. He wasn’t going to make it through breakfast without a pit stop. “I’ll meet you in there in a minute.”

“You ok?”

“I’m fine. I just need to use the loo,” Harry said, struggling to hold back the urge to cross his legs. Just the walk down from the Common Room to the Great Hall and he already felt full to bursting. 

“Ok,” Ron said, eyeing  his friend up slightly before turning and heading into the hall for breakfast.

Once Ron had turned, Harry strode as quickly as he could to the loo. He couldn’t believe it. He had gone less than fifteen minutes ago, how had he managed to fill up again so quickly? And to the point his whole body felt as though it were quivering for release. If it wasn’t the tea, then what was it that was causing this?

He tried to think of a reason for why this was happening, but could hardly focus as his bladder continued to send frequent signals to his brain warning of impending release.

‘Come on, come on comeoncomeon,’ Harry thought to himself as he squirmed in front of the urinal as he struggled to undo his jeans zipper. There! Finally! The zipper slid down just as a large spurt of urine made its way out into his underwear. 

‘Dammit!’ he thought, whipping himself out and pointing at the urinal. ‘Thank Merlin I made it!’

Sighing with relief, he peed for nearly thirty seconds. His bladder ached in relief as the act of holding had made it over stretched. Harry rubbed his hand over his lower stomach as though that would help the ache and was surprised when he pressed on where his bladder was and another small shot of urine came out. Standing there for another few minutes, he pressed on it again and was surprised to find a rather large amount of urine came out despite him feeling empty.

‘What the..?’ Harry thought, squeezing with all his might to make sure as much came out as he could manage. He did not want to have to use the toilet as frequently today as last night. Besides, it would be rather hard to explain why he kept leaving the Quidditch game today to relieve himself.

Pushing on himself once more to make sure he was well and truly empty, he tucked himself back into his now slightly damp pants. Thankfully, there was no obvious wet spot on the jeans themselves, but it was quite concerning how quickly he had gone from not needing to pee to desperate. 

Heading back to the Great Hall, Harry quickly found Ron (who was already stuffing his face) and sat down and began filling his plate. This morning, the elves had chosen to provide them with the elements of a traditional fry-up for breakfast. The sausages, tomatoes, and toast seemed to be the most appetizing, but Harry’s biggest concern wasn’t so much the food. 

He was thirsty. His mouth felt as though he had swallowed sawdust. All of the peeing he had been doing was rapidly drying him out. 

Maybe this was the sign he was done with the absurd desperation?

Grabbing a glass and filling it nearly to the brim with orange juice, Harry quickly drained it not once but twice before turning to the apple juice and doing the same. He was so thirsty! It wasn’t until he had finished his fourth cup of juice that he began to no longer feel as though his throat were full of dust. 

“Geez, Harry,” Ron said around a rasher of bacon. “Thirsty?”

Harry just nodded as he finished off yet another glass of juice before finally beginning to dig into his food. His stomach was still not too used to having large amounts of food in it, a sad throwback to this summer where the Dursley’s were restricting his food intake yet again. Water was easy enough to come by as he could just drink from the hose, but food was restricted heavily. 

“Yeah,” Harry said finally, lying through his teeth. “Making up for practice yesterday.”

“Ah,” Ron nodded. “I was thirsty too, but I guess Katie did keep running you on more strenuous drills.”

“What about my drills?” Katie said, sitting next to the boys and grabbing a few slices of bacon for herself. 

“You keep running us ragged, but we’re showing progress,” Harry said diplomatically with a smile. 

Katie huffed exasperatedly. “Well I would hope so! Are you both planning to go to the game today?”

Both Ron and Harry nodded, though Harry was already wondering how much of the game he would actually see if his bladder didn’t stop acting up. With the amount of liquid he had just consumed, he doubted he would have been able to make it through a full game without needing a break anyways, but with the way his bladder had been today, he was beginning to wonder if he would even be able to make it to the game at all. He had been so thirsty though!

Mentally taking stock of the situation, he was rather dismayed to find his bladder already felt nearly half full and was filling rapidly. It was starting to get slightly uncomfortable, but not bad enough to need to go immediately. 

“Good, good,” Katie said before turning back to her other friends.

“Who do you think is going to win?” Ron asked, shovelling the last of his toast in his mouth and taking a swig of his juice.

“I’d bet on Slytherin, to be honest,” Harry said, crossing his legs unconsciously. “Malfoy is a good seeker and I think O’Byrne is probably the strongest keeper they’ve had in a while. You?”

Ron slowly sipped on his juice, ignoring the fact Harry tightened how crossed his legs were at the sight. 

“As much as I hate to admit it, I think you’re right,” He finally said, setting his now empty glass down. “Ready to go?” 

Harry nodded, uncrossing his legs and taking stock of his bladder. In the few minutes they had been talking, it had continued to fill and was now over three quarters full. He couldn’t believe it. Less than an hour and he had already needed to pee twice. And not even a little bit. 

Making their way out of the Great Hall, Harry looked longingly at the loo. He really should go again, but he didn’t want to admit to Ron how badly he needed to go so soon after having just gone. He could make it back to the dorms. He was sure of it. They were only up seven flights of stairs.

His bladder protested weakly the idea of going up that many flights. 

Ron babbled on about how ready he was for the second game of the year and how he really hoped Ravenclaw would win. Harry ignored him in favor of focussing on his bladder. They were now on the second floor and making their way to the third, he could do this. It was only a few more flights, then he could sneak into the loo and….

A spurt of urine shot out before he had a chance to react. 

He wasn’t going to make it. It was too far. 

“Ron,” Harry said, stopping and clamping his legs together, bobbing in an effort to keep the pee in his bladder.

“...but Ravenclaw is more diverse in their tactics, see. They are more adaptable in how they play, making it harder to predict what they are going to do next,” Ron continued to prattle on. 

“Ron!” Harry said, jamming his hands into his crotch and attempting to keep up with his friend. “Stop!”

“What’s wrong?” Ron said, looking at the state of his friend who was now having to put a hand into his pants to try and add pressure to the area.

“I need to get to a loo, right now!” Harry said, frantically. 

“You just went before breakfast,” Ron said, looking rather confused.

“I don’t care, I need to go NOW!” Harry said frantically as another dribble made its way out. 

“Well go then!” Ron said, motioning in the direction of the nearest toilet.

Harry made a mad dash towards the toilet, hoping his bladder would last just a moment longer. Dribbles were coming more and more frequently as his bladder continued to try and fill beyond its current capacity. He felt as though he were several months pregnant with the liquid. 

Skidding into the second floor toilets Harry was dismayed when he felt his bladder beginning to let go. 

“No nononononono!” Harry said, frantically trying to undo his jeans. “Please no!”

His bladder continued to spurt, leaving a softball sized patch of wet on the front of his jeans. Slamming his legs together, he finally got the zip undone and pulled out his penis as fast as he could. But it wasn’t fast enough. As soon as he freed it from the confines of his pants, his bladder spasmed in protest to the filling it was undergoing causing him to shoot urine onto the wall and floor around the urinal. Finally getting it aimed appropriately, Harry gasped in relief as his bladder finally was allowed to empty. 

“Damn, Harry,” Ron said from the door. “You really had to go!”

Harry moaned in response as his bladder continued to empty. It felt so good to finally pee. In fact, it felt more than good. The relief he felt bordered on orgasmic. 

Sighing with relief when he finally finished, Harry tucked himself away and looked at his jeans in dismay. They weren’t obviously wet, but they were definitely not dry. And his pants were rather sodden. 

“Are you ok?” Ron asked as Harry made his way to the sink with rather weak knees. 

“I… I don’t know,” Harry admitted finally. “I hardly slept last night because I kept having to get up and pee and this is the fourth time this morning I’ve had to go and every time has been really really desperate.”

“Do you feel sick?” Ron asked, looking concerned.

“No, I just feel like I constantly need to pee,” Harry said, leading his friend out of the bathroom and towards the next flight of stairs. Maybe this time they’d make it all the way up to Gryffindor?

“Do you think you were cursed or something?” Ron asked, continuing to look concerned. 

“I don’t know!” Harry said exasperatedly as they climbed to the third floor. The chafing from his wet jeans already beginning to get to him. “It only started last night right after I took … the potion!”

“You think the potion did this to you?” Ron asked.

“I can’t think of anything else that would have done this to me!” Harry griped as they continued on up the stairs. “I thought it wasn’t going to work right, but I didn’t think that this would be the outcome!”

“Do you want to go to the Hospital Wing? It’d probably be a good idea.”

“Yeah, but let's get the potion first. I still have some left in my bag and Madam Pomfrey may need a sample of it to find the antidote.”

Ron nodded and looked at his friend in concern. While he hated that Harry had obviously been struggling with his bladder all morning, he couldn’t help but wonder what it felt like to be that desperate. Ever since he was young, Ron had noticed how much more pleasurable it was to do...anything with a full bladder. He would occasionally try to see how long he could go before needing to empty himself and was pleased when he found he could easily go all day without needing to go. 

The downside to this was it took much longer for him to actually feel as though he were full or even remotely filling up. Maybe he could convince Harry to let him keep some of the potion to … experiment with. 

Merlin, that sounded like something Hermione would say.

They were nearly at the portrait of the Fat Lady when Harry had to pause once more and shove his hands in his groin.

“Again?” Ron asked, curious and mildly aroused at the sight of his friend’s obvious desperation. How he wished that were him.

“Yeah,” Harry whimpered, dancing in place slightly as his bladder protested his movement any further down the corridor. “Oh, god. I don’t know if I can make it!”

“You can make it, come on Harry!” Ron said, urging his friend along, trying to ignore his own rather swollen cock.

Limping forward as he attempted to continue squeezing his thighs together and walk at the same time, Harry finally made it to the portrait of the Fat Lady only to find her missing from her frame. Panic over took his brain as he looked around desperately for the portrait. 

Squirming violently, Harry turned his eyes to a portrait of a garden party which was right next to the Fat Lady’s frame. There she was, eating and carrying on with the other members of the party in the frame. 

“Madam! Please!” Harry said, begging her to come back to her frame as he felt his sphincters begin to fail and dribbles of urine make their way down his leg. Why did he have to drink so much juice at breakfast!

“One moment dear!” She said before turning back to her friends and laughing at one of their jokes.

“NOW!” Harry nearly screamed as a rather large rivulet of urine ran down his leg.

“How rude!” the Fat Lady huffed as she re-entered her portrait. “Password?”

“Felidae!” Harry moaned as another spurt of urine ran down his leg. These jeans were done for. 

Ron came behind him and helped him into the Common Room where, once again, he had to stop and grab himself. 

“Please!” Harry begged as his bladder throbbed and pulsated as it continued to refill and make up for what he had lost in his spurts. 

Slowly, he made his way to the toilets, pleading openly with his bladder to last just a few more seconds. He made it just inside the toilets when the sound of running water of a shower being used did him in. Every last muscle in his bladder gave up the fight and, slowly at first, he began to lose control. 

Desperately, he dove for the urinals only to find that the zipper he had been struggling with all morning was finally well and truly stuck. Frantically he pulled his jeans down, not caring in the slightest that Ron was standing right behind him. There was really no point to pulling the pants off, however, as his bladder continued to empty despite his valiant attempts to stop it. Leaning forward and aiming his still peeing member at the urinal, Harry let out a massive sigh of relief. He hadn’t made it, not by a long shot, but he at least was getting relief, and it felt so good. 

“Wow, Harry, you still going?” Ron said as he had ran up to the dorm room to grab a fresh pair of trousers and pants for his friend when Harry had first made it into the loo. 

Harry just nodded, eyes rolling back in his head slightly as the relief washed over him. This was fantastic. As frustrated as he was at the situation, he couldn’t help but wonder why he had never done this before.

Finally feeling empty, Harry quickly pulled the fresh clothes on that Ron had brought for him. 

“Did you grab the potion while you were up there?” Harry asked.

“Right here,” Ron said, pulling out the half empty vial. “You good to go down to the Hospital Wing?”

Harry nodded, though he doubted he would be able to make it there without stopping at least once. He honestly doubted he could make it without two stops in between. If it weren’t for the fact that he was having to go as frequently as he was, Harry didn’t think he would have a problem with the level of desperation he was consistently experiencing. It was rather nice, after all. 

Maybe he could get Madam Pomfrey to just tone it down a bit?

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Chapter 3

Harry was right in his assumption that he would need to go several times on the walk down to the Hospital Wing. He needed to go not once, not twice, but three times on the walk down, and still he felt the urge to pee as soon as they entered the Hospital Wing. 

It hadn’t been entirely necessary for him to go that many times, but every time they came upon a loo, he decided to take advantage of the situation. And his bladder thanked him dearly for it as he noticed it was beginning to become rather sore from holding for so long. 

“I’ll be right back,” Harry said, rushing for the loo in the Hospital Wing. The walk between the last toilet and the infirmary was the longest stretch of all of the distance and he was quite desperate by the time they got there. It wasn’t to the point of leaking, but if he waited much longer, it could be. 

Ron watched in concern as his friend raced for the loo yet again. If he was going to experiment with the portion of the potion he had stolen while Harry was using the toilet in the dorms, he would have to be careful. Maybe start out with just a drop or so rather than a spoonful? That sounded like a good plan.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Weasley?” Madame Pomfrey asked as she came out of her office and into the main room of the infirmary. 

“It’s not me, it’s Harry,” Ron said, motioning towards the toilet doors. A flush could be heard from the other side. 

“Has he been vomiting?” the matron asked.

“No, he took a potion last night that was supposed to dye his hair, but it didn’t work,” Ron started as Harry came out of the loo.

“I don’t see how that warrants a visit here.” Madame Pomfrey scoffed. 

“I’ve been needing to use the loo a lot since, ma’am,” Harry said, politely. “I had to pee every couple of hours last night and today I’ve gone maybe eight times since seven o’clock this morning.”

Madam Pomfrey looked at him rather skeptically before asking more questions.

“Are you feeling as though you are emptying your bladder fully?” she asked, motioning for him to sit on one of the beds. 

“I believe so,” Harry said as he sat down, wincing as his waistband dug into his stomach. He may have just gone, but he could tell he would be needing to go again sooner than previous times due to the tightness of his trousers.

“Are you urinating a large amount or a small amount each time?”

“Large,” Harry said, blushing as he remembered the state of his jeans from earlier. 

“Does your urine smell or burn when you urinate?” Madame Pomfrey asked, jotting down notes as they spoke. 

“No, ma’am. It hardly smells at all,” Harry said honestly. It was as though he kept peeing straight water as there was very little tint to the urine which was coming out of him. Urine which he was already feeling building back up in his bladder. 

“And have you had any accidents since this started?”

“Yes ma’am,” Harry blushed an even deeper red. “I couldn’t make it to the toilet in time.”

Sighing, Madame Pomfrey put down her notes. She had a sneaking suspicion as to what had happened, but she needed to be sure. If she was correct, poor Mr. Potter was going to be in for one hell of a week. 

“You didn’t happen to bring in a sample of the potion, did you?” she asked, hopeful she was wrong.

“Yeah,” Ron said, pulling the half-full vial out of his pocket. 

Harry frowned, he didn’t think he had taken that much of the potion! He was sure the vial was still nearly completely full after he took the spoonful last night.

“Oh dear!” Madame Pomfrey exclaimed, her fears verified. “How much did you take?!”

“Only a spoonful!” Harry said, trying to rearrange the tight waistband on his stomach in a way that would relieve some of the building pressure. 

“Sorry,” Ron interjected, quickly thinking up a lie to cover his theft. “I spilled a little of it when I grabbed it before coming here.”

Madame Pomfrey nodded and quickly tucked the potion away in her desk drawer, which she promptly locked. 

“Do you know what it was that you accidentally made?” she asked once the potion was secure.

Both boys shook their heads. Harry hoped this lecture wouldn’t last too long as he was really starting to feel his now much more squashed bladder. Crossing his legs, he couldn’t help but bounce his foot in an effort to stave off the desperation feeling. 

“I believe, Mr. Potter, that you missed a step in your brewing process,” Madame Pomfrey said. “It was a small step, but did you dust off your bicorn horn before you began to chop it into pieces?”

“I was supposed to do that?” Harry said in shock. He had seen Hermione quickly shaking off the bicorn horn before beginning to work with it, but he thought it was because she just didn’t enjoy the feeling of the dust on her fingers.

“Yes, Mr. Potter. Also, had you purchased new ingredients before school this year?”

“No, but I wasn’t out of some of the dry ingredients yet.”

“Oh, Harry,” the matron said, hanging her head slightly. “Your bicorn horn went bad and was beginning to ferment. Add the dust to the equation and you didn’t create a hair dye, but rather a very strong diuretic.”

“Oh,” was all he could say as he shifted his legs around. What he really wanted to do was undo his trouser button, but he didn’t want it to seem obvious.

“Yes, ‘oh!’” Madame Pomfrey continued berating him. “The diuretic you made is not only extremely strong, it's quite long lasting and the antidote takes over a month to brew. How much did you say you took again?”

“Just a teaspoon full,” Harry said, blushing in humiliation. 

“With that amount, you’ll be peeing like this for a week if not two,” she said, frowning.

“Can you fix it?” Harry asked, eyes widening as he continued to shift around.

“Unfortunately, no. We don’t keep the antidote in our standard stores. There are a few things I can give you to help, but I don’t think you’ll like any of them.”

Harry doubted that, but didn’t say anything. At this point he was willing to try anything. Anything to not wet himself anymore. Anything to lessen the desperation. Anything to get out of this conversation so he could use the toilet again. All this talk of pee was reminding his bladder of the fluid inside it.

Merlin, he had to pee.

“Before I do anything, I need to know what your maximum capacity is. Do you know how much you are normally able to hold before you cannot hold any longer?”

Harry shook his head. 

“No-oh!” he gasped as his bladder lightly spasmed. Not now! Please not now!

“Do you need to use the loo again?” Madame Pomfrey asked, noting how his squirming had increased.

“Ye-es!” Harry whimpered, locking his ankles and shoving his hands in his crotch in a desperate bid to salvage his pants. 

“On a scale of zero to ten, how full do you feel right now?” she asked.

“Ten!” Harry gasped.

“Please void in this then,” the matron said, handing him a large jug with measurements on the side.

Not caring Ron was watching or that Madame Pomfrey was watching as well, Harry frantically dug his now-leaking penis out of his pants and jammed it into the jug. He sighed in relief as he began to fill the jug, worrying as he did so that he may overflow it.

“I’m going to scan your bladder quickly to make sure you are fully empty,” Madame Pomfrey said, whipping out her wand and scanning his lower abdomen. “Good, good. Only a few milliliters left. You really have quite an impressive holding capacity, Harry.”

Harry blushed and looked at the jug filled with his urine. He was honestly surprised by the amount in the jug. No wonder he had needed to go so badly! There was over three quarters of a liter in there!

Ron, too, was impressed. He was fairly certain his holding capacity was greater than Harry’s, but he would have to wait and measure his at a later time. 

“So what can you do to help me until this potion wears off?” Harry asked. Any relief would be better than no relief at this point.

“There are a few options. First, I can make it so your bladder is much more pliable. You’ll be able to hold for a longer period of time, but when you go your stream will be much weaker and you’ll need longer to finish voiding and when you have to go, you have to go. You’ll also need to apply some charms to your trousers to make sure they can stretch over your stomach. Second, I can make it so your sphincters are stronger and can hold back the flood of urine, but this will make it more difficult for you to start voiding. You also will feel extremely desperate. The third option is for you to wear diapers which are charmed to get rid of any mess you make in them. These, however, will be quite bulky and obvious.”

Harry nodded, mulling over the options in his head. She was right, no option was ideal. Each of them had some rather … interesting consequences he wished to explore. 

“Could these be combined?” Harry asked, noting Ron’s eyebrows shooting up to his hairline.

“I suppose so, though I wouldn’t recommend it,” Madame Pomfrey said. 

“What if I wanted to do just the spells,” Harry asked impulsively. The combination would definitely allow him to attend classes and Quidditch practice.

“Your bladder would fill to three times its normal size before you were desperate, the muscles which prevent your bladder from emptying may not allow it to empty fully, and when you needed to go you may not be able to control where you go so you may have to wear the diaper anyways.”

“That’s fine,” Harry said, looking longingly at the jug of urine. He wished she would spell it away so he could go again. His bladder was so irritated it was wanting to empty again. 

“Do not make this decision lightly, Mr. Potter,” Madame Pomfrey admonished. “The spells will last for a week and at the rate you are producing urine, you’ll still have to go quite frequently, though likely only once an hour.”

Harry nodded. That didn’t sound too bad. He’d keep the desperation, the frequency of peeing would decrease, and he could actually have a rather normal week rather than having to pee every five minutes!

Standing, Harry sighed as the waistband was no longer digging into his bladder. He could wait a few more minutes so long as he remained upright rather than sitting down. 

“I’m ready for them,” Harry said, shifting his weight.

“If you say so,” Madame Pomfrey looked at him skeptically. 

Harry looked at Ron briefly for reassurance before almost nodding, then stopping himself. 

“Actually, can I pee first?”

Edited by JungleMoon (see edit history)
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  • 2 weeks later...

Ask and ye shall receive! Sorry, updates will come in rather sporatically as I have a job with a really weird schedule. Reviews keep me motivated to continue though! 

As always, if there is something you wish to see in the story, let me know. I don't have anything overly planned with this story, so I can easily work in reader requests. 

Enjoy!

 

Chapter 4

The spells were a damned miracle in Harry’s eyes. Walking out of the Hospital Wing, he sighed with relief as he knew he could make it back up to the dorms without needing to run to the toilet. He never thought he would have to celebrate such a little thing as not having to go to the toilet, but here he was. 

Having opted for both spells, Harry was rather surprised at how little he noticed them. True, he noticed a small bulge in his stomach beginning to form by the time he made it back to the dorms, but it wasn’t overly large or obtrusive. What he was more concerned about was how the sphincter strengthening spell would affect him. He had assumed that the spell would give him a cramping sensation, but was pleasantly surprised to find he couldn’t tell if it was working or not. 

Making it to the Quidditch match was a definite possibility now. 

“You ok, mate?” Ron asked as they climbed the stairs to the boy’s dormitories. 

“Yeah,” Harry said, rubbing the small paunch he was developing. “It’s weird, Madame Pomfrey made such a big deal out of how the spells might affect me, but I haven’t felt anything yet.”

“Your stomach is looking a little bigger there,” Ron said, looking furtively at his friend’s lower abdomen.

“Yeah, I noticed that too,” Harry said, looking at himself in the mirror. “My trousers are getting a bit tighter, but nothing too bad.”

Ron couldn’t help but feel jealous. Why did everything good always happen to Harry? He wished he could get his bladder to be that size. He wished he could feel that same urgency. Maybe he could try the potion tonight? Just a drop ought to do it. In the meantime, he could enjoy watching Harry’s growing urgency. 

“Might want to apply those resizing charms soon,” he said, continuing to eye up Harry’s stomach. “Best get it done before they get too tight.”

Harry nodded. He had been hoping Ron would forget about those spells, honestly. It was rather… nice… to feel the added pressure on his bladder. He could play around with it later, maybe with his pajama pants? They had a bit of stretch to them, but if overstretched would add additional pressure to the situation. 

A quick flick of his wand and the trousers loosened significantly around his waist as they resized to fit his considerably larger abdomen. The jolt of the change in pressure made Harry inadvertently cross his legs as though he needed to go. He did feel somewhat like he needed to, but nothing like what he had been feeling throughout the morning. 

“You sure you’re ok?” Ron asked, not having missed his friend’s squirm.

“Yeah,” Harry said, straightening back up. “Pressure change. I do want to try to pee though. I feel about as full as I would if I would need to go normally.”

“Alright,” Ron said. “I’m going to grab my transfiguration book and get started on that essay.”

“Alright, I’ll join you in a minute,” Harry said, calmly walking to the toilet. 

Strange how little time it took to realize how much you took a normal bladder for granted. Before today, Harry never had thought about how often he had to pee, he would just go and be done with it. Now, however, it felt like his entire life revolved around the porcelain god and how soon he could make it. And it hadn’t even been twelve hours since he took that potion!

Standing in front of the urinal, Harry undid the zip on his trousers and pulled himself out calmly as ever. It was nice to not feel utterly desperate while standing in front of the loo. Harry took aim and waited for the flow to begin. 

And waited. 

And waited. 

The urge to pee was there, but he couldn’t get the stream started. The longer he stood there, the more his bladder tried to contract down but it felt much weaker than before. And he felt as though something were blocking his bladder from emptying. 

Harry stood there for another few minutes before calling it quits. He managed to get out a few drops, but he couldn’t pee. He felt more desperate for a wee now than he had before going in, but hadn’t managed to actually do anything. If anything, the few drops he did manage to get out made the entire thing feel worse. 

Madame Pomfrey hadn’t been lying. The combination of spells was making it so he couldn’t empty his bladder easily, but he could hold for a lot longer. 

Rubbing his increasingly large bladder, Harry sighed before tucking himself away. There was still several hours before the match, hopefully he would get this figured out before then. 

Walking back to the dorm, Harry was rather shocked at the sensation his bladder was giving him. It was as though he could physically feel the extra water sloshing about. If it hadn’t been for the spells, he would have likely gone to the loo at least four times by now. While it wasn’t likely it was actually doing anything to him, Harry felt as though the extra weight of the urine building in his bladder was making him slightly off balance. 

“Right then,” Ron said, without looking up as he rummaged through his backpack and pulled out a spare bit of parchment and his inkwell. “This essay is going to be rubbish, I can feel it already.”

Harry grabbed his backpack from the floor where Ron had dropped it by the table they were studying at and winced as his bladder reminded him of his failed attempt to pee. He wasn’t dying for the loo yet, but he certainly wished to empty his bladder soon. 

‘You’re going to feel desperate long before you are able to go,’ Madame Pomfrey had warned as she applied the spells. 

She wasn’t kidding.

Pulling out his transfiguration book and turning to the required chapter, Harry found himself bouncing his leg slightly in an effort to try and quell the urge to get up and run back to the toilet. He knew that that would make no difference in the urgency he was feeling at the time, in fact it might make the urge worse if his previous attempt was anything to go off of. 

“Um, Harry?” Ron said, having finally looked up from his bag. “Did you pee? Your stomach looks larger than before you went to the loo.”

“I know,” Harry signed. “I tried, but I couldn’t manage to get more than a few drops.”

“You still need to go?” Ron asked, skeptical. 

“Yeah,” Harry said, recrossing his legs. “Madame Pomfrey did warn me that might happen. She said…”

“You’re still going to be going a lot, Mr. Potter,” Ron said mockingly. “I know, Harry. I was there.”

Harry laughed lightly at Ron’s good natured mocking before turning his attention back to the essay. He knew ‘Mione would have already been done with it, but she had taken to hiding her essays in the girls dorms so the boy’s wouldn’t be able to copy it. It wasn’t that they ‘copied’ it, per se. More like they gained inspiration from it. 

Lots of inspiration. 

Sighing, Harry started working on the essay. It was slow going, however, as the subject manner was difficult and trying to find enough words to fill the length requirement was nearly as hard. The continuously increasing size of his bladder was making it even more difficult to get anything done as he constantly had to keep readjusting how he was sitting so as to give his stomach more room to expand. 

Less than a quarter of the way through the essay, Harry gave up. He couldn’t focus with his bladder this full. He needed to go, now!

Standing up from where he had been sitting, Harry accidentally bumped the edge of the table with his now greatly protruding stomach sending waves of desperation rocketing through him. A small spurt of urine exited his bladder unbidden and wet his pants slightly. Not enough to leak through, but enough to send him scurrying to the loo.

“Hey!” Ron said as the table jerked and he nearly spilled his ink on his partially completed essay. 

“Sorry, mate,” Harry said as he waddled to the loo, looking several months pregnant. “I gotta go.”

Ron grunted in response before turning back to his essay. He really needed to focus on getting this done. He could focus on Harry’s bathroom woes later. 

Harry made it to the urinal which was rapidly becoming his best friend and quickly pulled out his penis from his slightly damp pants.

And waited. 

And waited. 

‘Come on!’ Harry thought, bearing down slightly in an effort to push some pee out of his over-wrought bladder. ‘Please!’

It took nearly five minutes for him to finally begin to pee. Five minutes of agony, standing in front of the urinal, squirming, desperately shaking himself, trying anything he could think of to start the stream. 

Finally, a dribble started. Slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, he started to pee. 

‘Thank you, Merlin!’ he thought as he tried to add some additional top pressure to his bladder. Nothing he did would speed it up though, and if he added too much pressure, the flow would stop suddenly. And when it would stop, it would take nearly thirty seconds to start again. 

Thirty seconds of him bobbing in front of the urinal trying to convince it he wasn't empty and still needed to go. 

Finally, nearly ten minutes after starting, he finally felt mostly empty. Comfortably empty. He could still feel there was some left in, but it was far more of a comfortable amount. He no longer looked as though he were a pregnant mother. 

The spells were more potent than he thought.

Now that he wasn’t overly full and focusing on his own desperation, he couldn’t help but worry. Madame Pomfrey had said there was a chance he would need diapers at some point to help with his… leaks. He had hoped this wouldn’t actually be the case, but if he continued to leak like what had just happened, he may need them. 

“Better?” Ron said, noting the smaller stomach with a touch of dismay.

“Much,” Harry said, sitting down to continue working on his essay. “It hit me so suddenly.”

“You going to make it to the game?” Ron asked, trying to keep his voice down in case anyone else in the dorm was listening. 

“I think so,” Harry whispered back. “I just hope I don’t have to go in the middle of the match!”

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  • 1 month later...
  • 2 weeks later...
  • 2 weeks later...

Two things: First thank you to all of you who are reading this! I really do appreciate the feedback and suggestions! 

On 10/26/2020 at 8:30 PM, ilikeblankets said:

since you'd mentioned suggestions I'd love to see some female wetting/desperation too if possible, loving it so far!

I will work some female desperation in! Like I said, I do like suggestions! If you have any particular characters or situations you'd like them to be in, feel free to suggest those as well. Thank you!

Second: Not gonna lie, this is my first time writing full on masturbation... Boyfriend suggested I give it a try, so I thought 'why the hell not.' If something seems off or wrong, please let me know. I'm always open for critiques.

But without further ado:

 

Chapter 5

The walk out to the Quidditch pitch had never seemed so long in Harry’s school career. All of the students were excitedly talking about the match, frequently jostling into one another as they made their way down the narrow path.

“Harry!” Katie’s voice cut through the crowd. “Good, you made it!”

“Of course I would,” Harry said, grimacing internally. Try as he might, he hadn’t been able to convince his bladder to pee before the match. If it wasn’t for the robes he wore, there would be no hiding the fact his stomach was once again beginning to protrude.

“I know you wouldn’t miss it, but, see, I need you to keep some notes on what the seekers do. See if you can find any patterns in how they fly when they see the snitch, ok?” Katie asked, though Harry knew it was not a question. She would thoroughly question him on his notes as well. 

“Ok,” Harry said, hoping he would be sitting far enough away from her that he would be able to sneak off when the urge finally got to be too much. 

“Ron, you do the same for the keepers,” Katie said. “I want a full report and breakdown on the match next practice. We play Slytherin next and we can’t afford to miss any of their tricks.”

Harry groaned as Katie ran towards the pitch with her other friends. With no time limits to Quidditch matches, there was no telling how long the game would actually go for. If he couldn’t manage to go before the game, he would definitely have to leave or risk peeing himself. 

“I’m going to swing by the loo, see if I can’t go before the match starts,” Harry whispered to Ron.

“You sure that’s a good idea? You just tried to go in the castle and just ended up feeling even more desperate,” Ron replied, attempting to keep the grin off of his face. Now that he could focus on it, he was finding Harry’s predicament increasingly arousing. If he could manage to prevent his friend from using the toilet for as long as possible, well, he was certainly in for the most interesting Quidditch match ever. 

“I know, I know, but I gotta try!” Harry whimpered as they climbed the last hill to the pitch. “I feel full to bursting!”

“Fine,” Ron lamented, doubting his friend would actually be able to go. “But don’t say I didn’t tell you so.”

Harry rolled his eyes and quickly scampered to the men’s toilet which was outside of the pitch. If he didn’t at least try to go now, he would have to traverse all the way down through the stands and back out here before being able to go. It would be much better if he could empty his bladder here and now. 

Half running into the loo, he was thankful to find the entire room empty. Quickly whipping out his member and aiming it at the nearest urinal, he sighed in frustration when nothing happened yet again.

‘Oh, come on!’ he thought, bouncing slightly as the urge increased. ‘Please! Even a little!’

After nearly five minutes of desperately moving his hips, bouncing, and trying to strain, a small stream began. Harry sighed with relief, only to groan when he heard Lee Jordan’s voice projecting the entry of the players onto the field. The weak stream he had managed to produce was still flowing, though stutteringly and acting as though it wanted to stop at any time. Relaxing as best he could, Harry was distraught to realize it wasn’t going any faster. He was going to have to stop the flow and go back to the game. 

Rubbing his stomach in frustration, Harry squeezed his sphincters as hard as he could, shutting off the small stream he had going. The waves of desperation that stopping peeing caused left him gasping and locking his knees together and plunging his hands into his crotch. His stomach may have looked slightly smaller, but it still felt as though gravity were trying to pull the whole of his bladder through his pelvis. 

Glaring desperately at the urinal he had been standing at, Harry turned around and quickly washed his hands, dancing slightly as the sound of running water made his already irritated bladder contract once more. 

Leaving the loo, he slowly started up the long staircase to the seats. He made it nearly to the top when his bladder contracted violently once more. He knew if he went back down to the toilets, nothing would happen, but the idea of continuing on up the stairs was equally unenjoyable. But he had to get there, the match was on and he wouldn’t dare miss the opportunity to gain some intel on the newest Ravenclaw and Slytherin recruits. 

Finally reaching the stands, he quickly found Ron and Hermione and made his way over. 

“Any luck?” Ron asked, trying to yell over the screaming fans but not be heard at the same time. 

Harry shook his head slightly before turning his attention to the match. Or trying to. 

Ravenclaw was in the lead by 10 points, with Slytherin already making moves to get their own goal. Suddenly, one of the Ravenclaw Chasers peeled away from their group and dropped low to the ground. The Slytherin Chasers made their move towards the goal when out of nowhere a bludger was hit towards the group causing them to scatter. The Chaser with the Quaffle tried for a goal but missed, allowing the Ravenclaw Keeper to hit the Quaffle down to the low flying Chaser, who was not being guarded due to their odd position. The Ravenclaw Chaser raced along the ground towards the goal posts, underneath the chaos above her, and made it to the goal posts before the Slytherins even knew where the Quaffle had gone. 

The crowd erupted into screams and cheers when the Quaffle went into the goal millimeters before the Slytherin Keeper made it to the goal. 

“Didja see that?!” Ron exclaimed, jumping up and down and hugging a rather disgruntled but smiling Hermione.

“Ron. Ron. RON!” Hermione laughed, shoving the taller boy off her and knocking him into Harry. “Stop it! I saw!”

“That was amazing! Even the pros don’t do that! How did they come up with that?!” Ron exclaimed.

“They were thinking in three dimensions, Ron,” Hermione laughed. “Other than the Seekers, most Quidditch players only think in two dimensions as though they were playing football on a field, isn’t that right Harry?”

Harry didn’t answer her, however, as he was no longer there. Instead, his cloak lay on the seat, a small wet spot on the back could be barely seen if one looked hard enough.

“Where’d Harry go?” Hermione asked, looking around.

“Probably to the loo,” Ron said truthfully, looking at the wet spot and feeling more aroused than ever. “I’m gonna go check on him.”

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The crowd erupted into screams and cheers when the Quaffle went into the goal millimeters before the Slytherin Keeper made it to the goal. 

Harry had jumped up when the Quaffle went in just as everyone else had, but for different reasons. They were barely five minutes into the match and his bladder had decided enough was enough. It was time to go. Right. Now. 

Looking around desperately for a way out, he was dismayed to find both exits blocked with screaming fans waving their flags in his face. He was trapped and his bladder was not calming down. He had minutes, maybe seconds, to get down the flight of stairs to the loo. 

Suddenly, Ron slammed into him, knocking him onto his seat. Immediately, his overworked bladder began to release, try as he might, he couldn’t get it to fully stop. Throwing off his now slightly wet cloak, Harry dashed as quickly as he could along the seats until he got to the stairs thanking all that was holy that everyone was entranced with the game and not him for once. 

He could tell the back of his trousers had a small patch of wetness on them, but more concerning was the front. He paused once on the landing to try and make it stop, but only found that he was continuing to leak. The front of his trousers were beginning to show a rather large patch of wetness on them and Harry could feel small rivulets of urine running down his leg. 

‘Oh please,’ he thought as he dashed to the toilet, larger and larger spurts coming out. ‘Please stop, please!’

Skidding to a stop in front of one of the urinals, he frantically danced as he pulled down his trouser and pants, not bothering to worry about undoing the buttons as they were already quite sodden. He had nearly gotten them down when a wave of desperation hit him and he found he was no longer just leaking, but rather full on wetting himself. Right in front of the urinal. 

Frantically, he shoved his hand into the front of his pants and grabbed onto his penis while continuing to struggle with removing the trousers with his other hand. Grasping his cock, he squeezed in an attempt to stem the flow. 

Finally, the trousers and pants slipped below his hips and he let loose a stream of urine into the urinal, gasping at the release. The hand which had been gripping his cock relaxed and slowly began stroking almost involuntarily as the pressure in his bladder and abdomen was released and copious amounts of urine spilled into the urinal. It felt wonderful. It felt fantastic. 

It felt orgasmic. 

Harry realized with a start that, now that his need to pee was diminishing another need was beginning to take over. He still felt like he needed to pee, but more importantly, he needed to cum. The feeling of his wet pants rubbing along his shaft had started it, then the utter and complete relief of finally being able to go, and now his own stroking of his cock had left him with a raging erection the likes of which he hadn’t expected nor could he ignore. 

Starting slowly, then increasing in speed, he rubbed his cock to full attention, gasping and trying to keep the sounds of what he was doing down in case someone should happen to walk by. 

“Oh, fuck,” he whispered as cum began to shoot from the end of his penis. “Oh, fuck that felt good.”

Despite the heat rushing through his body and the slight lightheadedness he felt, he realized he couldn’t leave the urinal just yet. Apparently, mastrubating made it easier for him to urinate and now his bladder was back to trying to empty itself, but fully this time. 

Leaning over and resting a hand on the wall behind the urinal, Harry sighed in relief as his bladder finally finished emptying. 

“Damn, Harry,” Ron’s voice suddenly sounded from the corner. “Damn…. That was…. That looked…. amazing.”

Edited by JungleMoon (see edit history)
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