The Perversions of Harry Potter

Ch. 1

Inheritance

The sixteenth year of a witch's or wizard's life is boring, normal, common, and so much the same as the fifteenth, only a little more anxiety inducing as they know that, in just one year, they will be seventeen and be considered an adult, gaining the ability to use magic anywhere and everywhere.

However, when Harry Potter turned sixteen, his year was proven to be anything but boring, even by his standards.

The boy was at the Burrow. He had arrived there shortly before his sixteenth birthday, after he had accompanied Dumbledore to recruit an old professor to come out of retirement. The Burrow, Dumbledore promised, was a safe place, guarded by enchantments the old man has designed himself against Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters. So, like any hormonal teenage boy, Harry took the safety as an excuse to relax in his bed in Fred and George's old room. It was hard to touch himself in the Dursley's home, the walls were too thin, and Harry was scared that Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, or worse Dudley, could jump in at any moment. The Burrow, however, offered Harry a chance to fantasize as his hands roamed through his body.

His fantasizes were usually about men. Strong men with muscles who caressed and cared for him gently before smacking his ass or cock. The rougher they were in his fantasies; the harder Harry came. And that was all they were: fantasies. Until the night of Harry's sixteenth birthday, when the clock struck exactly midnight.

He woke up screaming. Incredible pain shot through his body as his scar bled, feeling as though it was being stabbed by a hot poker. Every nerve of his body felt as if miniature explosions were happening all over him; he could feel his bones break, his muscles rip, and his skin tear. Tears fell from his eyes as he found himself levitating; the pain muddling his mind, his already blurred vision seeming becoming worse. He could feel his pajamas, which was usually just briefs, tear and fall off him as his body convulsed and trembled as if being hit by a Cruciatus Curse.

Through tear-filled eyes, Harry could see, much to his shock and horror, that his body was changing. His skinny cock hardened to its full length of five inches, and seemed to becoming thicker, fattening out as his balls burned with an unholy flame, he could feel the cum churn inside them as the stretched and pulled closer to his thicker cock. His ass expanded, ballooning with muscle and fat into two seductive, mesmerizing globes of pure tanned skin, his hole puckered, and his butt started to become wet, as if it was lubricating itself. What—what is happening?

His bones pushed against each other as Harry's five foot nine frame started to shrink, losing inch after inch as his body smoothed itself. He was starting to gain muscles, started to thicken up around his stomach, but all the extra muscle and fat melted away leaving a taunt, flat stomach and lean arms and legs that burned with an unseen power. His chest began to burn, Harry's voice turned from a scream to a lustful moan as his nipples hardened and began pushing themselves into the air, as if two very small mounds began to form but stopped immediately. In his sudden lust-filled mind, Harry did not care or noticed to see that his nipples were leaking a thick white milky substance. The boy stopped shrinking when he hit five foot four.

His back felt as if it was being torn open, the hot poker pressed against his scar seemingly transferred to his back and focused on his spine and shoulder blades. He could feel something moving, something growing behind him as the poker seemed tot slash down his back, invoking excruciating pain. Then, all at once, the changes came as his cock and nipples shuttered, all climaxing together. Two black leathery wings sprouted out of his back, as well as a pointed, black tail that was short and immediately wrapped around Harry's waist. Two black horns, both sharp as a knife and four inches long, sprouted from the boy's forehead, mixing in with his hair.

His cock and nipples continued to shoot their seeds into the air, which fell down onto his new body, baptizing him in a perverted flow of his cum as the remaining changes happened. His hair grew a little out, becoming messier as his mouth became fuller, puffing out slightly as if freshly bruised from a rough kiss. With a final moan, Harry's cock and tits leaked out the remaining of their juices, leaving the boy drenched in them as he continued floating, practically glowing in the sunlight.

That was how Mrs. Weasley found him, as he was lowered down to his bed, his wings unconsciously curling around his body.

.

Harry woke up in the late afternoon. He groaned as he reached for his glasses, only for a hand to grab his. Harry opened his eyes to see the clear face of Mrs. Weasley. He moved to sit up, but she stopped him. "Don't move, Dumbledore says you should stay still," she said. "How are you feeling?" She looked scared, uncertain, as if afraid that Harry would snap at her for some reason.

"What happened?" Harry slurred, his memories of last night were hazy at best, colliding with each other like a chaotic vortex. Mrs. Weasley did her best to hide her uncertainty behind a smile as she gave Harry his glasses.

He stared at them shocked, "I thought I fell asleep wearing them… I can see you perfectly!"

Mrs. Weasley frowned at that. Harry shivered, and looked around. His entire body was aching, as if he was hit by a semi-truck. He reached to scratch his back, "I'm so cold," he said. He looked down his naked body, now covered by a blanket given by Mrs. Weasley, and saw his ripped underwear. "What happened to my clothes?" he exclaimed.

"That… well… it is difficult to explain, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said.

Harry continued scratching his back, frowning, "I had wings… and a tail… and—" A hand shot to his forehead, feeling just his hair, "My horns! Where are my horns?"

"Yes, well, something happened last night that nobody was expecting," Mrs. Weasley said. "Perhaps it would be better if Professor Dumbledore would explain it to you… and you must be hungry, I'll go get you some food…"

She stood up quickly and left before Harry could question her. Harry took the time to scramble out of the bed and run to the nearest mirror to check himself out.

His naked body changed dramatically. He stared at his new shorter, taunt form in disbelief. Where was the small patch of fat that refused to leave? Why was his ass so big now—what happened to his dick, he felt like it looked different! He looked more fit, but he felt like his fitter body was unnatural, he knew that he did not earn this body. Yet… the more he looked at his reflection, the more he liked it. He liked his smallness, he liked his fat bubble-butt, and his body was now completely hairless! And, surprisingly, he found himself more confident with this body. It was a shock, he was still freaking out about what happened to him—but still that confidence softly boiled underneath him, waiting for the shock to wear out.

"Harry?"

Harry turned, shocked to see Ron walk in, looking at him. "I saw Mum walking around, thought you didn't want to be alone," he blushed. "And that you had some questions…" His eyes roamed over Harry's body, having a hungry look that Harry did not see before.

"Yeah… let me just…"

"No!" Ron said a little too quickly, "I mean, I don't mind…"

Harry returned to his bed and covered his cock and ass with his blanket as Ron sat in the seat Mrs. Weasley was sitting in. "What happened to me," Harry demanded.

"Well… it really should be Dumbledore who tell you this but… I guess I can tell you, " Ron said. His cheeks were blushing, and he was openly leering at Harry's body. "You're an Incubus."

"A what?"

"An Incubus," Ron said as he forced himself to stare at Harry's face instead of his body. "It's a demon creature, a Dark Creature… Dumbledore and Mum are… a bit anxious about you, mate."

Harry frowned, "What… do you mean?" he asked.

"Well… you know about Incubuses, right?" Ron asked. Harry shook his head, his shock starting to wear off. "I don't know much about it," Ron said "But you somehow turned into a demon… only Dumbledore knows what's really going on, I think."

"I see… okay… thank you," Harry breathed. He looked at Ron for a moment before looking over his room, his eyes falling onto his trunk. "My clothes!" he said.

"What?"

"I'm like half a foot shorter! I can't wear any of my clothes!" Harry said. "I need new clothes."

Ron laughed, giving Harry an easy smile, "That's what you're worried about?" he asked.

"I'm worried about me being a bloody demon as well," Harry said hotly, "but now I need clothes!"

Ron laughed and shook his head. "Well, I'll help you in that end." Harry smiled and thanked him as they started looking for clothes that would fit the Incubus. "Maybe we can ask my Mum to let us go shopping for clothes later today," Ron said as he sorted through Harry's trunk, throwing rolled up socks on the floor. "I mean, with your height change and… additions, you'll need it."

"If you're talking about my ass, I rather you talk about it directly," Harry snapped. He gave a smile and patted his butt softly, "Though I will admit, it feels very nice."

"They look nice," Ron said, smiling goofily.

"Stop looking at it then!" Harry snapped. Ron frowned and muttered a "sorry" before he continued looking for clothes for Harry. In the end, they've found old clothes from when Harry was fourteen that fitted him.

The boy frowned, "I feel like a little kid," he complained, "I'm going to need to buy new clothes."

"I'll help you there," Ron smiled, "If you want, that is."

"Yeah, cheers… though from what you told me 'bout Dumbledore, I don't think he would allow that," Harry frowned. "I'm supposed to stay here for my protection, remember?"

"Then we'll sneak you out," Ron said simply. "Look, you want to keep wearing your old clothes or no?"

Harry was about to respond when his door opened again and Mrs. Weasley came in, looking astonished, "Ron! What are you doing in here? It is dangerous! Harry is sic—"

"I'm fine Mrs. Weasley," Harry smiled. "He told me about what I am, an Incubus, and helped me find clothes that fit."

"Yes, well… I am happy to see that you are awake now," Mrs. Weasley said. "I have brought you some soup and sandwiches to see if you are up to eating."

"Thank you Mrs. Weasley," Harry said.

"Not to worry dear… though Ron, you should have told me you were in here," she scolded, "what if something happened?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"Well, you know, things… Anyway Harry, Professor Dumbledore is here and wants to talk with you when you are done with your food," Mrs. Weasley said.

"Okay… Mrs. Weasley, I've been meaning to ask, but, can Ron and I go to Diagon Alley, or even Muggle London? My clothes don't fit me anymore," Harry said.

"I'll keep a close on him, Mum!" Ron said.

Mrs. Weasley's lips pursed. She looked between them and said, "That… might be difficult Harry… with You-Know-Who out there. Maybe it would be best to talk about it with Dumbledore… we do not want to take any unneeded risks with you, Harry dear."

Harry frowned, but nodded, Mrs. Weasley placed Harry's food on the nightstand next to him and left, leaving the two boys alone. "Looks like you're going to have to sneak me out," Harry said, looking at his friend.

"Yeah," Harry nodded. He reached for his soup and started eating. Ron sat with him as he ate. When the boy was done, Ron took Harry's empty bowl as Harry stood up, groaning. "I hope Dumbledore allows us to go," he said, "I am not wearing my clothes from fourth year."

Ron chuckled and led Harry downstairs. Dumbledore was waiting in the kitchen, his hands folded onto each other on the kitchen table, smiling softly when he saw Harry. "Ahh, Harry, good to see you are up," he said.

"Thank you, sir," Harry said, sitting down, "Mrs. Weasley told me you want to speak with me. Is this about me being an Incubus?"

"Very perceptive, yes, it is indeed about that dreadful manner, Harry," Dumbledore said, taking a serious persona. "Now, what is it that you know about Incubuses?"

"Ron told me that I'm a Dark Creature, and that is it," Harry said. "I remember, I have a tail, wings, and horns. What happened to them?"

"They have faded away, or, more precisely, they have grown back into you," Dumbledore explain. "I theorize that your problem is a bit akin to lycanthropy, where your secondary physical appendages grow out at times, hopefully never again." Harry hid a frown when Dumbledore said this. Instead he looked at the old man and asked, "What do you mean?"

"Simply, Harry, that through, if I may be a little egotistic here, my own genius, I was able to quell and seal the demon inside you," Dumbledore said.

Seal the demon inside me? Harry thought to himself. "You mean that my wings and tail cannot come out?"

"Nor any of your other devilish traits," Dumbledore said. "After all, Incubuses are Dark Creatures, one of the darkest and most dangerous, actually."

"He lies…"

Harry frowned. Neither of them whispered that. The voice was like his own, yet somehow different.

"However Harry, I fear that my own magic will not be enough. Though I hate to tell you this, however, on top of your responsibility as the, as the Daily Prophet now call you, Chosen One, I fear you must also fight to keep control of the Incubus inside you. Though I am sure there are many of the faith who would gladly argue otherwise, this dark creature inside you cannot be excised from your body. Not without great risk and pain, which we both cannot afford at such a time," Dumbledore said. Harry frowned, however not for the reason Dumbledore believed as he continued, "Not to worry, however, I have Professor Snape working with me in order to make potions for you to consume to help quell your Incubus until such a time where it can safely be removed."

Remove… my Incubus? But what if I don't want that…

"He will kill you…"

Harry frowned at the voice again. He looked at Dumbledore for any sign that he could hear it, but the old man continued to be oblivious to it. "Sir," he said, quickly deciding that it would be best not to mention the voice, "I actually have a question to ask you…"

"Ask away, Harry," Dumbledore smiled, "This is a troublesome time for all of us, and I am certain that it is most troublesome for you. Your mind must be full of questions of what will happen to you, and what did happen to you, and I am all to glad to answer them."

"Can I go with Ron to buy clothes? None of the pairs I own fit me anymore since I have shrunk half a foot," Harry said.

Dumbledore laughed softly, clearly not expecting such a question. "Always being practical, Harry," he said. "I'm afraid, however, that that cannot be allowed. Due to the everlasting threat that Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters offer us, I am afraid to say that you must find a way to deal with the problem yourself until you receive your school letters, during which I am sure I will be able to organize some friends to watch over you."

"Oh… okay," Harry said. He stood up and said, "Thank you Professor. I'm feeling a little tired actually, so I'm going to go sleep a bit."

"Of course Harry, I am sure after everything you have experienced today, sleep will be just the thing to soothe your mind," Dumbledore chuckled. He stood up as well and shook Harry's hand.

Harry escorted Dumbledore out of the Burrow and walked through the house looking for Ron. He found the redhead in his room looking over a Quidditch magazine. "What did he say?" Ron asked.

"He somehow locked the Incubus inside me," Harry frowned. "I don't know how to feel about that. I mean, that's part of who I am, yeah?"

"I guess so," Ron nodded. "So… that's got to be a bad thing, yeah? I mean, so far there's nothing horrible about you being an Incubus! I mean look at you, you're so sexier than you were yesterday!" Ron smiled wildly as Harry stared at him. His friend realized what he had said a moment later as his face turned a bright, vivid red.

"Right… well, more importantly Ron, while I was talking to Dumbledore, I was hearing voices, well one voice," Harry said. Ron snapped out of his dazed look, and stared at Harry alarmed, "But it wasn't a snake," Harry said, "it sounded different… like me almost. I have no idea what this means, though. If only Mrs. Weasley or Dumbledore would allow us to go to Diagon Alley, then I could at least look for some books about it." Harry gave a sigh and fell on Ron's bed. He looked at his best friend and casually asked, "How do you feel like sneaking out there tonight?"

"Tonight? How are we going to get there?" Ron asked.

"We'll use my broom," Harry said. "I'm sure that we both can fit. It will be a tight fit though."

"And you're fine with that?" Ron asked.

"Why not?" Harry shrugged. "It'll be easier than you trying to follow me on one of the brooms here. So how about it?"

Ron thought for a second before nodded, "Yeah, let's do it."

"Great," Harry said. "Tell no one of course. We'll leave once everyone is asleep."

PLEASE READ! Yes I am posting this story again! Last time everything went away from me, but now with a tighter focus and vision I hope to give this story its due and finally fix it. That said, this version is DRASTICALLY different. How? You'll have to read to find out!