Grazhir :: Harry Potter :: FFT :: Little Skipping Tidbit

Little Skipping Tidbit

Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Slash, crack, OOC-ness
Pairings: Harry/Remus/Sirius

Summary: Another take on a fractured fairytale. Featuring cross-dressing Harry as Little Red Riding Hood.

Notes: I blame Bats for this travesty. She’s evil, making me consider seriously for even a second doing this. And then I did.


Harry skipped along the path through the forest, on his way to see his grandpa. He liked to skip, as with every little jump his short pleated skirt flipped up to show off his naughty bits, flashing anyone he passed.

The people of the village thought he was quite strange; after all, he was a boy, but really preferred girl’s clothing. Harry also liked to pick flowers, as when he’d crouch down to gather them up, the long grass would tickle his unmentionables in a pleasant sort of way.

So he was skipping along when a very strange sort of man appeared between two trees a short way down the path. Harry stopped, feeling quite curious.

“Why hello, my dear . . . tidbit,” the man said.

Harry smiled and nodded. “Hello. It’s a lovely day out, isn’t it? Surely you’re enjoying it as much as I am.”

“Yes, yes I am. And where are you off to, tidbit, and in such a lovely outfit?”

Harry pranced in place, making his skirt flirt up briefly. “It is nice, isn’t it? I’m on my way to see my grandpa. He’s been feeling a bit poorly lately so I’m bringing him a basket of food.”

“I’m sure he will be pleased,” the strange man said. “And are you very near the end of your journey there?”

Harry swung the basket around behind him and bent over slightly. “It’s not too much further. I’m sure you know of it. His cottage is just there where the river approaches the lane.”

The strange man nodded and said, “Surely you’ll not be bringing only food, tidbit. There are so many nice flowers growing wild here. Perhaps you should pause to pick some to help further brighten your grandpa’s day?”

Harry bounced and nodded his head. “That’s a wonderful idea!” He stepped sideways and bent over to put the basket down, then crouched to begin assessing the available blooms. “I think grandpa will love some flowers.”

The strange man stayed to watch for a while as Harry crawled around on hands and knees in the grass and picked very specific blooms to add to his basket, then silently melted back into the darkness of the forest.

Eventually Harry thought he had enough and got back up, taking a few moments to brush off his knees and shins, then bent over to pick up his basket. As he did so he realized that rather a lot of time had passed and it was beginning to get dark.

He looked around almost warily, then quickly skipped off down the path, deeper into the forest, hoping to arrive before nightfall claimed the light. Harry arrived at the cottage and heaved a big sigh of relief; the forest at night scared him. He knocked quickly and loudly, then whipped the door open when he heard a voice inside acknowledge him, stepped in, and shut it tightly behind him.

“My dear child, it’s very late,” his grandpa said in a growly voice. “Whatever took you so long?”

Harry gasped slightly. “Grandpa! Have you become worse? Your voice. . . .”

“I’m fine, child, just fine. Now that you’ve come to see me, that is.”

“Are you sure?” he asked in concern. “I may have some cough drops to help soothe your throat.”

“I’m fine,” his grandpa assured him.

“Well, I’ve brought you some lovely soup, though I suppose it’s cold now,” Harry said with a cute little frown. “And some bread and cheese. And flowers! A nice man I met in the forest suggested those.”

“How very kind of him.”

Harry stepped a bit closer, then paused, only just having noticed something odd in the low light available from the fireplace. “Grandpa! When did you get colour-changing lenses?”

“They are a lovely shade of amber, aren’t they? And it’s so much nicer to not worry about my glasses.”

Harry took another step closer, then paused. “Grandpa! Whatever have you done to your hair?”

“Isn’t it nice?” his grandpa said, reaching up to tweak a lock. “Makes me look decades younger.”

“Oh! I quite agree. You look practically like a different person!” Harry exclaimed as he bent over to set his basket on the floor and open it. Out came the flowers he had picked, and when Harry turned back he noticed something quite peculiar.

“Grandpa! What a wolfish smile you’re sporting. Do you like the flowers so much?”

“Why, yes, I do. They’re lovely. And . . . you said something about bread and cheese, my dear child?”

Harry bounced in place and nodded, then skipped over to get a vase for the flowers. Those went on the little table under a window at the front, and then he returned to bend over the basket to fetch the requested food. Perhaps he could heat up the soup in a bit.

Harry turned back and approached the bed, getting quite nearly beside it. “Grandpa!” he said as he held out a delicate china plate bearing the impromptu sandwich. “Why ever are your blankets poking up so strangely?”

His grandpa reached out, saying, “Because what’s underneath is all the better to violate you with, my dear little tidbit!”

Harry shrieked as a strong hand wrapped around his wrist in an iron grip; the plate went flying, bread and cheese separating and heading off in opposite directions. He continued to shriek as he was yanked onto the bed, finally realizing that it was not, in fact, his grandpa, but that strange man from earlier.

And then, the front door burst open!

A man charged through, and Harry held hope that he might be saved from a terrible fate, and thus began struggling even harder against the impossibly strong arms which held him captive.

“Oh, ho!” said the rescuer, a man with shiny dark hair and grey eyes. “What have we here?” He slid a sword out of a sheath strapped to his belt and advanced, his entire body promising a swift death for the horrible man holding Harry against his will.

“Say, my stunningly handsome would-be executioner,” came a suddenly smooth voice near Harry’s ear. “Don’t suppose you’d like to . . . join me instead? He’s a tempting little tidbit, don’t you think?”

The man actually paused, causing Harry to struggle again in disbelief. Then the man extended his sword and used the tip to lift up Harry’s skirt, and let out a low whistle. “Well, I don’t know. How do you feel about animals in the bedroom?”

Harry stilled as the man behind him began laughing; it was strangely melodious. “My handsome friend, I’m a werewolf, so I hardly think having animals in the bedroom is anything to worry myself over.”

Harry thought he might well pass out at that bit of unwelcome information. Instead he began whimpering in fear, knowing his doom was fast approaching.

“Well, well. My name is Sirius. It hardly seems polite to not introduce myself under the circumstances.”

“What a lovely name. Mine is Remus. Apropos, hm?”

Sirius threw his head back and laughed, then sheathed his sword. Within a minute or two, before Harry’s astonished eyes, the man had divested himself of his weapon entirely and transformed into a huge black dog with frighteningly intelligent eyes.

He shrieked again as it leapt onto the bed and shoved its muzzle between his legs. Within seconds his unmentionables were being licked by a very wet tongue. Harry was beyond shocked! But . . . it felt . . . so good. No! He tried his hardest to resist the strangely beguiling feeling, but felt himself not only relaxing but trying to arch his hips!

Harry couldn’t bring himself to shriek again (aside from having the start of a sore throat) when strong arms lifted him up. The dog pushed in even closer and began swiping that long, wet tongue over his anus. With each and every drawn out lick he felt himself slip more deeply into a haze of pleasure, unwilling as it was, of course.

Eventually the dog’s tongue worked its way back to his unmentionables, but he backed off when Remus said, “Need a little help here, Sirius. I can’t deal with the covers and keep our tidbit from escaping at the same time. And while we’re at it, there’s some lubricant in the side drawer there.”

The dog barked softly and changed back to human form, then yanked the covers away from Remus’s body. It barely took any time at all for him to retrieve the lubricant, either.

“Fabulous. Be an angel and slick me up, would you? And maybe the tidbit?”

A few minutes later found Harry moaning without thought and attempting to ride the fingers inside his ass. He felt bereft when they disappeared, and whimpered, despite a part of him trying desperately to object to this horrible, horrible fate he was forced to.

Sirius returned to dog form and barked, then sat back on his haunches to watch as Remus eased his cock inside Harry’s virgin ass. He whimpered in pain, but was quickly distracted as that wet tongue once again began licking his unmentionables.

Shortly thereafter he was quite nearly being split in half (or so it felt) as his body was lifted and lowered, but that was mitigated by the intense pleasure he felt at the same time. The dog was devilishly clever with its tongue, and Harry’s moans expressed his feelings for what both men were doing to him.

It wasn’t very long at all when his traitorous body betrayed him completely, and Harry began jerking around in Remus’s grasp, his head thrown back in ecstasy. The dog licked him more fervently, capturing every single drop of the almost pearly fluid spurting from his. . . . Oh, blast, a part of him thought in faint exasperation—from his cock!

And barely had he relaxed, sort of, when the arms holding him tightened painfully and he was being quite nearly slammed down onto Remus’s cock. Seconds later the man behind him let out a howl; Harry fancied he could feel the cock in his ass pulse as Remus was claimed by orgasm.

Things were eventually quiet, and Harry dared to hope he might be released. He would surely run away, even through the scary dark forest, to the village. But that was not to be. The dog became human, and Sirius said, “So, my turn fucking the tidbit?”

He moaned and struggled weakly, but to no avail. Even as Sirius was stripping off his clothing, Remus was manhandling Harry into a new position, and then the horrible torture began all over again. Sirius was quick to take advantage, and sheathed his cock in Harry’s now not-so-virgin ass and began thrusting, altering his angle of attack after a bit, something that made Harry begin moaning in almost sheer pleasure.

And it didn’t hurt when a hand snaked over to begin stroking and playing with his already recovering cock.

Not so terribly long later Sirius was slamming into him with exceptional vigor, and the hand at his cock was leading him to another mind-blowing (yet unwilling) orgasm. When they did finally release him Harry was just too tuckered out to try to escape.

“A few more days of this,” Remus commented, “and our dear little tidbit won’t even dream of denying us.”

Harry reached up to lazily smack the werewolf. “As if I ever deny you anyway. That was an absolutely fantastic little game, by the way.”

“It was, wasn’t it,” Sirius said with a smug grin. He also received a lazy smack, but Harry quickly found himself being hauled up and kissed lustily.

On being let go he said, “I’m tired. Can we go to sleep now?”

“Aw,” Remus said. “We wore tidbit out. Aren’t you proud, Siri? Well, fine, time for bed. And in the morning you can skip about like you always do, Harry, and tease us until we can’t stand it any more.”

“And then you’ll ravish me,” he said sleepily, wriggling around until he could rest his head on Remus’s chest. Sirius slipped in behind him and molded himself to Harry’s back, and the three quickly drifted off into dreamland.