The Hogwarts Express looked different when it wasn't packed with students.
Lavender stood on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, her trunk floating beside her, watching the scarlet engine steam gently in the morning light. The year-round schedule was a recent addition—a concession to the growing number of adult learners who needed regular access to the wizarding world beyond Hogwarts' gates.
"Finally," Ron said, slinging an arm around her shoulders. "A whole weekend at your place. No classes, no homework, no Hermione nagging me about revision schedules."
Lavender smiled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "It'll be nice to see my parents."
"Yeah, them too." Ron's hand drifted lower, settling on her hip with unmistakable intent. "But I was thinking more about having some privacy. Your room has a lock, right?"
"Ron—"
"I'm just saying, it's been ages since we've had proper alone time. The dormitories are useless, and the broom cupboards are too cramped for anything good."
Lavender's stomach twisted. She'd been dreading this trip for exactly this reason. Ron had been increasingly... eager lately, and she'd been running out of excuses to avoid intimacy. The condition made everything complicated—how was she supposed to explain why she wouldn't let him see her naked anymore?
"Let's just get on the train," she said, sidestepping the conversation.
They found an empty compartment near the back. The train was sparsely populated—a few Ministry workers, some older witches who looked like they were visiting family, a handful of seventh-years who'd gotten permission for a weekend away. No one Lavender recognised.
Ron stowed their trunks and sprawled across one of the benches, patting the space beside him. "Come here."
Lavender sat, maintaining a careful distance. "The journey's only a few hours. We'll be at my house before you know it."
"A few hours is a long time." Ron's hand found her knee, sliding upward. "And this compartment is very private."
"Ron, we can't—"
"Why not?" He leaned in, nuzzling her neck. "No one's going to bother us. Live a little, Lav."
"Someone could walk in—"
"I'll close the blinds."
"That's not exactly foolproof—"
"Since when are you such a prude?" Ron pulled back, frowning. "You used to be up for anything."
The accusation stung, even though Lavender knew it wasn't fair. She had been adventurous before—before she'd grown a cock and her entire sense of self had shattered into pieces.
"I'm not being a prude," she said carefully. "I just think we should wait until we have actual privacy."
"This is actual privacy." Ron gestured at the empty compartment. "Four walls, a door, no portraits to spy on us. What more do you want?"
I want you to not see the penis I've spontaneously grown, Lavender thought hysterically. I want things to go back to normal. I want to not be terrified that my boyfriend will leave me if he finds out what I've become.
"I need the bathroom," she said abruptly, standing. "I'll be right back."
"Lav—"
She was already out the door.
龴ↀ◡ↀ龴
The train's bathroom was cramped and smelled faintly of industrial cleaning charms, but Lavender barely noticed. She locked the door, cast a silencing spell, and then leaned against the sink, breathing hard.
Think. Think think think.
Ron wasn't going to let this go. She knew him—knew his stubbornness, his single-minded focus when he wanted something. He'd keep pushing and pushing until she either gave in or they had a massive row, and she couldn't afford a row. Not when it might lead to questions she couldn't answer.
She could try to satisfy him another way. A handjob, maybe, or oral. Keep his attention on his own pleasure rather than her body.
But Ron would want reciprocation. He always did, in his clumsy, well-meaning way. He'd want to touch her, see her, make her feel good too. And then he'd discover—
No. Absolutely not.
There had to be another option.
Lavender stared at her reflection in the grimy mirror. Her cock was half-hard already, just from the stress and the proximity to Ron. The bloody thing had no sense of timing.
Concealment charm.
The thought came suddenly, desperately.
They were designed to hide specific features, often used for cosmetic purposes or covert operations. But if she could hide her cock, make it invisible or at least unnoticeable...
It was risky. The charm might not hold under physical contact. Ron might feel something even if he couldn't see it. A hundred things could go wrong.
But what other choice did she have?
Lavender pulled out her wand and hiked up her skirt. Her cock jutted out accusingly, flushed and insistent. She pointed her wand at it and concentrated.
"Abscondo."
The spell washed over her, and her cock... flickered. It didn't disappear entirely, not to her eyes at least, but it became somehow harder to focus on, easier to overlook.
Like a Notice-Me-Not charm.
It would have to do.
Lavender straightened her clothes, checked her reflection one more time, and headed back to the compartment.
Ron had already closed the blinds.
The compartment was dim now, lit only by the grey light filtering through the edges of the window coverings. Ron stood as she entered, his expression eager.
"Took you long enough."
"There was a queue," Lavender lied.
She barely had time to close the door before Ron was on her, kissing her hungrily, his hands roaming her body with familiar possessiveness. Lavender kissed back automatically, her mind racing.
He's not going to cast privacy charms. Of course, he's not. Why would he bother with something as sensible as that?
"God, I've missed this," Ron muttered against her mouth. "Missed you."
"The door—"
"It's fine. No one's coming."
He was already fumbling with his trousers, pushing them down along with his pants. Lavender caught a glimpse of his cock springing free—hard, eager, and...