Dislcaimer: J.K. owns Harry Potter, I just play with them from time to time. I don't make any money from this, it's only for my own sick entertainment.

Pumpkin Juice

A One Shot

Harry gritted his teeth and shifted in his chair.

Oliver woke the team up at the crack of dawn for Quidditch practice, and then afterward sat them all down together for breakfast. He had insisted that each member drink a full liter of pumpkin juice to re-hydrate after the difficult practice, and hadn't left them alone until every drop was gone from their goblets.

Now, sitting in Potions class, Harry had begun to feel the juice starting to fill up his bladder. He should have taken the twins' advice and banished the juice when Oliver's back was turned.

He squirmed a little more and crossed his legs at the ankles. Hermione was sitting just next to him. He had to be careful or she would notice. Or worse, Snape would notice. How he would be humiliated then!

His abdomen began to ache from the fullness and pressure. Maybe he could just ask Snape to go to the bathroom.

"And furthermore, the properties of - oh for Merlin's sake, Potter, what do you want?"

Snape yelled irritably.

"Ah, sir? Can I go to the bathroom?"

"No, Potter. Put your hand down. You're old enough to be able to hold it. Now, as I was saying . . ."

Harry gave a little huff of breath and slipped a hand down into his lap. This would not end well. He shifted again, this time bumping into Hermione. She turned and looked at him angrily.

"What are you doing?" she mouthed.

Harry's brow furrowed and he tapped the toe of his trainer on the stone floor.

"Got to pee," he mouthed back, squirming again for good measure.

Hermione gave Harry a blank look and then turned back to her notes, trying to ignore his desperate squirming.

Harry exhaled slowly, trying to think of anything he possibly could to take his mind of his over-full bladder.

He bounced his left leg up and down very quickly and cupped his penis through his robes and trousers. Bloody hell did he have to go.

"Pssst! Potter!" Malfoy whispered across the dungeon.

Harry turned his head to look. A tiny piece of folded parchment flew in his direction and landed perfectly on his desk. Harry opened it carefully, hoping Snape didn't see it. It was a magical drawing of him wetting his pants. The flow of pee dribbled down his legs and puddle on the floor. Malfoy smirked triumphantly.

Alarmed, Harry realized that this drawing was about to actually become reality. A little squirt of warm liquid escaped into Harry's trousers.

He almost yelped at the sensation. He hadn't been focusing fully. Harry redirected his attention to his nether regions and shifted again, feeling that one little squirt soak into his underwear and spread out.

If he didn't do something soon, more urine would follow. He clamped down hard inwardly, holding so hard that his muscles were cramping.

Snape droned on and on with his lecture, completely oblivious to Harry's discomfort. That wouldn't last for long, however. Harry gave a particularly loud gasp as another couple of drops leaked out.

"Potter, if you cannot contain yourself I must ask you to leave my classroom. Ten points from Gryffindor for being obnoxious during class. Shut up and stop fidgeting."

Harry gave a quiet whimper and shifted around again, pressing his legs tightly together and squeezing himself harder. In just a minute, all would be lost. He now fought with a very difficult decision. Dare he just let go in his trousers in front of everyone, or could he try to hold on for the rest of class?

His bladder contracted. He whimpered again. Any second now and the pee was going to seep out. If he didn't want to wet himself in class, there was only one thing to do . . .

He leapt to his feet, drawing everyone's attention to him. He turned, ignoring Snape's commands to sit down and behave, and bolted out of the classroom.

The nearest bathroom was two floors up. He took the stairs two at a time, trying to pretend that the movement wasn't bothering his poor bladder. His cock was dribbling constantly now. If he could only make it to the toilet before . . .

Too late. There it was. His bladder contracted. A stream of hot urine escaped down his leg.

Harry froze in shock and humiliation.

The stream was so strong that most of it was passing right through his pants and pooling on the floor. Harry hoped that no one was nearby. They would hear the pee hitting the stone floor.

It felt like forever before his bladder was empty. He continued to stand there, shaking. How on earth could he have let his happen?

"Damn, that was hot," someone said in a whisper.

Harry whipped his head around to see Oliver Wood leaning against the wall. Had he been there the whole time?

"I was hoping that would happen to at least somebody today," Oliver said with a smirk. "I'm sorry if it caused you any trouble."

"I was in Potions," Harry gasped. "And Snape wouldn't let me go."

"Yeah, er, sorry about that. But it's not exactly easy to get guys to do this willingly. It seems to turn most people off."

"You get off on people pissing themselves?"

Oliver grinned, his cheeks flushing a bit. "Yeah, well. As I said before, it's hard to get guys to do that willingly."

Harry took one squishy step forward. "You really enjoyed that?"

"Yeah. How about you? I didn't traumatize you or anything?" Oliver took a few steps forward.

"Could we maybe talk about his later?" Harry asked, blushing as red as Ron's hair.

"Um, sure. I expect you'll need help cleaning up." Oliver pulled out his wand and flicked it at Harry. The pee dried up immediately and Harry felt immensely better. He sighed in relief.

"So – we'll talk later, shall we?" Oliver said, obviously embarrassed.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Sometime after dinner, maybe."

As Oliver took off down the corridor, Harry started to think about what had just happened. Had he liked it? He wasn't sure. Maybe he needed to test this out a little. Perhaps a pre-dinner goblet or two of pumpkin juice might help him decide. He turned away from the dungeons and headed toward the Hogwarts kitchens.