Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Christmas Shopping, Returns, and Other Headaches
Disclaimer: Not mine, I own nothing. I’m not making any money.
WARNING: Harsh Language, adult themes, sexual situations (i.e. smut), bad spelling and grammar.
Author’s Notes: This story is a broad farce with over the top humor (a good deal of it is crude and sexual) and OOC actions (that’s Out Of Character if you don’t know). Also, this is my first smut-ish fic. If you don’t like sex and sex-based humor, do NOT read this!
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Christmas Shopping, Returns, and Other Headaches… and pains in the arse.
The next morning, after a good long rest, thirteen naked, sweaty, and fairly sticky people fumbled around in blindness.
“No one remove your blindfolds,” one Hermione commanded. “We don’t want to risk aparadox.”
“It’s funny that we’re worried about a paradox when this whole thing was created by aparadox,” another version of the witch commented.
“Good point,” the first agreed. “We don’t want to create further paradoxes so no one remove their blindfolds.”
“So, what do we do now?” asked one Harry.
“Hhmm, let’s see; we’re all nude… lying on top of each other… what should we do?”another Harry asked mockingly.
“Hey now, you back off,” a Hermione commanded a Harry. “I had two of you at the same time last night. I could use a bit of rest.”
“I’m the Hermione from a few days from now. I could use two Harrys,” another Hermione offered.
“You know, it would be terribly rude not to grant her wish,” a Harry stated.
“True,”another agreed.
“Watch where you step,” a different Harry protested as some of his counterparts began to move about. “I don’t want a knee in my groin as you blokes crawl around.”
“Sorry about that,” a Harry apologized. “Where’s the Hermione who wants to be double teamed?”
“Over here,” a witch answered. “Just follow my voice.”
“Gotcha.”
“Let’s see… one penis,” the eager Hermione began counting. “Two penises… three penises. I only agreed to being double teamed, boys. The owner of this third penis, go find another me.”
“Ooh, I’ll take your extra one,” another Hermione offered.
“Okay, let’s all start… again, except for the current time’s Harry and Hermione,” a Hermione said over the squelches and moans. “You two need to go back in time.”
“Um, Ialready started,” one Harry admitted.
“Well then hurry up. We’ve got a tight schedule to keep.”
~*~
Odd but incredibly fun was the best way for Harry to describe using the Time Turner to re-participate in the Morgy Ritual. It was odd tapping the past version of himself and suggesting to double-team Hermione, but it was definitely fun doubling up on her.
By his seventh and final pass at the Morgy Ritual, Harry had memorized the sporadic conversations his past selves and the various Hermiones had. For example, when one Hermione complained about her mouth going numb, Harry knew that in a few seconds the version of himself that had not used the Time Turner yet would freak-out when the third time through’s Harry’s discharge landed on the former Harry’s foot.
“EW!EW! GET IT OFF!”
~*~
It was a very hectic period over the next few days. Hermione would stop what she was doing every eight hours (and seeing that it was Hermione, it was precisely eight hours; not seven hours and fifty-four minutes or eight hours and six minutes, but eight hours) and head back to their shared bedroom to utilize the Time Turner. Harry on the other hand, was not as punctual as his girlfriend. At seemingly random points, sometimes after five hours, others after ten, and any length in between, Harry would stop whatever he was doing and used the Time Turner.
And during this time, our heroes’ peers would get very confused. They would pass either Harry or Hermione several times while they walked down the halls. And that wasn’t the half of it. Take for example the morning where Ron was enjoying a chess match with Harry in the Head Students Chamber only to hear peculiar sounds coming from the spare bedroom.
“Don’t pay that any heed,” suggested Harry as he moved his bishop. “It’s nothing.”
“It sounds like you and Hermione going at it,” Ron said while staring at the closed door. “And I can swear that I hear two birds in there who both sound like Hermione.”
“It’s nothing,” Harry countered with a bemused smile, “just the wind blowing and the old castle creaking and whatnot.”
Then, as if to challenge Harry’s explanation, Hermione’s voice filtered through the door, saying quite clearly “That’s it Harry, cum on her titties!”
“See, just the wind,” a smiling Harry stated.
“This castle sure does make weird noises,” Ron said with a shrug.
~*~
The Morgy Ritual was a resounding success. The morning after they performed the aforementioned ritual, the Daily Prophet’s headline read in great bold letters:
“MASSIVE BLOW TO DEATH EATERS!
/ /St. Mungo’s, which was just sacked yesterday, was overrun once again by the minions of He Who Must Not Be Named. Nearly one hundred and ten Death Eaters rushed the hospital late last night. This time, however, the Death Eaters did not come to raid the hospital, but rather begging and pleading for help.
The scores of evil doers were screaming in agony. Initial diagnostic charms couldn’t reveal the source of the suffering. Many Death Eaters claimed the pain was worst than You Know Who’s dreaded Cruciatus Curse. Some were even bleeding from various orifices.
Ministry Aurors were quick to sweep up the scores of Death Eaters, many who were wanted and dozens more who were not known to the Ministry as members of the Death Eaters. Several of these previously unsuspected Death Eaters, including Hilbert Rogers and Lantana Smyth-Billings, were actually spies for He Who Must Not Be Named, working deep undercover within key position in the Ministry. These spies, according to an anonymous informant in the Magical Law Enforcement Department, could have done ‘great harm to the Ministry and its people.’
The Ministry is unsure how or why the Death Eaters were in such immense pain. Some believe that these hundred plus Death Eaters offended their master and he punished them (although this theory is not without its debunkers; such a loss of manpower has surely hurt You Know Who and therefore punishment on this large scale could only cripple himself and his aims). Some have speculated that aritual, intended to raise their power, backfired in some way. Still others believe that it was an attack against all marked Death Eaters.
~*~
The last Harry was charged with taking the Time Turner back to the Ministry.
“Now you have to go back to the day I fetched it,” Hermione said.
“Right, so I’ll meet the past you in the Department of Mysteries and once you take the Time Turner, I’ll put the future version in its place,” Harry summarized. “That way, no one will miss it.”
“Take some migraine relief potion with you,” Hermione added in a serious tone, clearly telling her lover that he should do as she suggested. “You’ll need it.”
Shrugging in acceptance, Harry took both the Time Turner and the potion. After placing the chain of the Time Turner around his neck, Harry spun the hourglass several time. The world dissolved away and he felt as her was flying backwards. Moments later, Harry found himself standing in the Head Students’ quarters alone. Harry glanced at the calendar hanging on the wall to confirm that he had traveled far enough back.
Knowing that since not being seen was imperative, Harry fetched his Invisibility Cloak and threw it over his head and shoulders. Harry then crept out of his room and down to the entrance of the castle. He passed the Great Hall where the past version of himself and Hermione were reading the Daily Prophet article about the Death Eater raid on St. Mungo’s which had originally inspire Hermione to fetch the Time Turner and perform the Morgy Ritual. Quickly and quietly, Harry made his way out of the castle and out onto the grounds. Walking briskly for several minutes, he finally passed the outer gates of the school and its protective wards.
Wrapping the Cloak around him tightly so it would not get lost while in transport, Harry squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated on the Ministry building. Harry tried to ignore the unpleasant squeezing sensation as he Apparated.
He opened his eyes and found himself exactly where he wanted; in the alley just ashort distance away from the payphone that hid the lift to the Ministry Building. While still safely covered by his precious invisibility cloak, Harry took the lift down into the Ministry. The lobby was packed full of witches and wizards bustling back and forth. Harry was taken back slightly at the lack of noise in the overcrowded room. Normally, he assumed, with that many people milling about, there would be much more noise. Most of the witches and wizards had their heads down, as if they dare not look each other in the face. Only ahandful of people were speaking, and their sparse and soft conversations consisted of “excuse me,” and “pardon me,” as they bumped into each other.
Pushing his ponderings to the back of his mind, Harry moved through the lobby to the lifts. He had to get to the Department of Mysteries in order to replace the Time Turner as Hermione picked up the past version of it.
It took a good long while for Harry to find an appropriate lift, well over half an hour. Each time the doors would open, Ministry employees rushed the small compartment, jamming it full with their bodies. Harry realized that he’d have to wait for a less crowded car. He knew that if he entered the lift when it was so full, people would bump into him and realize that he was there. So he waited while lift after lift filled up.
Finally, an empty lift dinged open and there was no one there to enter it. Harry rushed into the compartment and mashed the button. With no one else in the lift, Harry didn’t have to worry about bumping into anyone. Unfortunately, before the doors closed someone entered. And sadly, Harry didn’t need to worry about bumping into this person, because this wizard could easily see Harry under the Invisibility Cloak.
“Potter,”Mad Eye Moody grumbled and hobbled up to the invisible-to-everyone-else Harry. The scarred wizard’s magical blue eye pointed directly at Harry’s face and Moody demanded, “Just what are you doing here, boy?”
“Um… I’m… uh… Just out for a stroll,” Harry lied. He didn’t need Hermione telling him that it would’ve been a bad idea to tell Moody that he was planning to go into the Department of Mysteries.
“Out for a stroll, huh?” Mad Eye asked disbelievingly. “In the Ministry? Under your Invisibility Cloak?”
Harry answered weakly, “Yes. Good for the constitution.”
With his normal eye still fixed firmly on where Harry stood, the electric blue eye swiveled in Moody’s head and back, apparently, at the buttons on the wall behind him. The magical eye snapped back to Harry and Mad Eye asked, “You’re not planning on making a trip to the Department of Mysteries by any chance, are you?”
“No, sir.”
“Because that would be stupid,” Mad Eye continued. “Ever since the war restarted, the Ministry has beefed up security around the Department; loads of wards and traps. Besides the traps that’ll turn you into dust, there are sensor wards that’ll spot you the moment you approach the Department. You’d need some sort of Legendary-Super-Invisibility Cloak that no one could see through to pass by them. And since you don’t have one of those,” he said and patted /’invisible-to-everyone-but-Moody-and-Dumbledore’/Harry on his shoulder, “you shouldn’t go mucking about in there.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Why don’t you head back to Hogwarts boy,” the old wizard more ordered than suggested.
Nodding his head in defeat, Harry walked out of the still opened lift. Harry meandered through the lobby, lost in thought. How was he supposed to get into the Department of Mysteries with all the added security? Obviously, Hermione was able to pass these wards somehow because she was able to retrieve the Time Turner. Harry came to the conclusion that he’d have to wait for Hermione to show up. That way she’d be able to figure out a way into the Department. She was, after all, the smartest witch in their generation. With this new plan, Harry headed to the lift that would take him to Muggle London.
Without using his cloak to hide within, Harry waited for Hermione; he stood just a few feet away from the payphone that hid the lift to the Ministry lobby. Shortly after twelve noon, he saw Hermione trot toward the lift.
“Hermione,”he called out.
“Harry, what are you doing here?” she asked while walking up to him. His girlfriend seemed quite surprised to find Harry waiting for her. “I thought we agreed that I’d do this on my own?”
“I’m here to bring back the Time Turner so no one will realize we took it,” he said.
“So it worked?”
“Brilliantly,”he said with a smile. / ‘Harry, Jr.’ /began to stir at the thoughts that swarmed in Harry’s mind; so many breasts, so many flowers, and those bums…
“So let’s go fetch it,” suggested Hermione.
“Hm?”asked Harry who was still deliciously distracted.
“The Time Turner,” Hermione pointed out. “Let’s go get it so you can put it back.”
“Oh, yeah,” he said, trying to push the wonderful images out of his mind. “We may have a problem.”
“What is it?” she asked.
“I ran into Moody. He told me that the Department has loads of wards around it,” he answered. “Really tough ones.”
“Well, obviously we were able to bypass them because you have the Time Turner,”Hermione said aloud.
“Yes, I’ve got it right here,” he said and pulled the golden device from his pocket, holding it in front of himself.
“Well, then, clearly we were able to figure out what the wards were and how to slip by them,” she said. Hermione worried her lip and went into one of her ‘deep thought modes.’ “What kind of wards are we dealing with? Clearly a number of Major Repelling and Detection Wards along with Defensive and Offensive ones.”
As Hermione tried to work out a plan, Harry eyed the Time Turner dangling from his fist. Hermione was right, they had somehow gotten the Turner, but how did they do it? He held the evidence that proved that whatever they did had worked. They were able to face anything the wards threw at them and they had not been captured. But what had they done?
Hermione’s face began to grow pale. “We’re dealing with top ward casters, the best the Ministry has to offer. That means we have a major problem. It’ll take hours, maybe even days, to try to figure out what types of wards they have, much less bypass them. Obviously, time isn’t an issue. Since we got the Time Turner, we can always go back in time. But it still can take us days.
“And then there’s the normal security,” she added nervously. “We’ll have to deal with patrols of witches and wizards so we’ll have to remain under your Cloak the entire time. And what if Moody is one of the ones patrolling? I mean, he has no trouble at all in seeing through your Cloak. Oh, goodness, how will we ever get the Time Turner?”
“Here, take it,” Harry said offering the Turner. Hermione looked at him suspiciously. “Listen, I already have it. We don’t have to risk ourselves trying to nick it. This is the safest way.”
“Your right,” she agreed and took the Time Turner.
Then, an odd thought came to Harry.
“Wait, I just gave you the Time Turner,” he said and Hermione nodded. “But that was the Time Turner you gave me, or will give me, to return…”
“Yes,”said Hermione.
“But where did it come from?” he asked. “I mean, it turns out I gave you the Time Turner that you gave me so that I could give to you.”
Pressure and pain started to form behind Harry’s eyes as he continued on this train of thought.
“The only reason you have the Time Turner is because I gave it to you. You never took it from the Department because I gave you one instead. But the one I just gave you is the one I got from you, I mean; you’ll give to me so I could give it to you.”
“Don’t worry about it, Harry,” Hermione tried to comfort him.
“But where did this Time Turner come from?” he asked as the pain in his head grew rapidly. “It didn’t come from the Department. It came from me… but I got it from you… and you got it from me.”
“It’s okay, Harry.”
The headache began to pound wildly, almost rattling his skull. The perplexing question of how the Time Turner came to be racked his mind. When he started out on this little trip into the past, he assumed that he would be standing next to Hermione in the Department of Mysteries, then, the moment after she would’ve picked up the past version of the device, Harry was going to place the future version in its place. He had reckoned that there’d be two copies of the Time Turner, one that Hermione picked up and the one Harry replaced. But now, he was realizing that there was only one Time Turner: the one Harry took in the past and gave to Hermione… the same device that Hermione gave to Harry so that he could go back in time to give to her… to give to him… so that he could give to her…
“How was it made? Did someone make the Time Turner? You didn’t make it and Ididn’t. No, but it’s still here, as if it just popped into existence. But that’s not possible. So it can’t exist. But there you are, holding it in your hand.” Harry babbled.
“It was created by a time paradox,” Hermione explained while she tucked the Time Turner into her pocket. “A fluke in time caused the Time Turner to exist; our actions created this item.”
“But if you’re right, we couldn’t have done the things we did to create the Turner if we didn’t have the Time Turner in the first place,” he argued. He felt as if his eyes were about to melt because of the massive headache. “How could we have used the Time Turner if it wasn’t real when we used it because we created it?” Harry was suddenly reminded of the old puzzle about the chicken and the egg but to an extreme level.
“I know it’s very confusing, but just accept the knowledge that the Time Turner was created by a paradox.” Hermione tried to explain.
“That’s right, you, and a few other versions of you, said something about it all happened from a paradox,” Harry said and he rubbed the sides of his head. “ow.”
“Go back to Hogwarts, see Pomfrey and get a headache potion,” commanded Hermione.
“No, Ihave one,” he said and pulled the glass vial from his robes. “You made one for me because you knew this would happened.”
After downing it in one gulp, Hermione asked “Do you feel any better?”
“Yeah.”
“Good, now let’s head back to the castle,” she said and took his arm in hers. “Once we get there, I’ll go back in time an hour so no one will miss me and you hide in the spare room until we’re all done. And try not to think about the how the Time Turner came to be.”
~*~
Several days later, Harry was enjoying dinner in the Great Hall with Hermione, Ron, Luna, Ginny, and Neville.
“So, Harry what are your plans for Christmas?” Ron asked, again, with his mouth full of partially masticated food. “We’re going to have a big one. Charlie and Bill will be there, along with Fleur and her folks, Luna and her dad’ll be there too.”
“Well, I think he should come with me to my folks this year,” Hermione offered.
“Hey, you and your folks can come to the Burrow, too,” suggested Ron. To which Hermione just rolled her eyes. Oblivious to many things including Hermione’s disapproval, Ron turned to Neville and suggested “Why don’t you and your Gran come to our place?”
“NO!”Ginny blurted out a response. Trying to recover, the red haired witch quickly added, “I mean, no, it’s too soon in our relationship to have our three families over for Christmas dinner.”
“What do you mean/ ‘our three families’/?” Luna asked. Ginny balked, realizing that she had just hinted that she was carrying Neville’s baby and that she had referred to her family, herself, Neville, and the baby, along with the Weasleys and Longbottoms. Luna pressed “Did you mean the Weasleys, Longbottoms, and my family? But Fleur’s family would make four.”
“YES! That’s it exactly!” cheered Ginny, thinking that Luna had provided a way out of her faux pas. “I’m just a dunderhead for forgetting Fleur.”
While their friends continued to talk amongst themselves, Hermione asked Harry, “So, I can take it that you’ll be coming to my parents’ home this holiday?”
Remembering the horrific time he had during dinner with Hermione’s parents, where both her mum and dad disapproved of their relationship, Harry tried to find a gentle way of telling his girlfriend that he had no intention of voluntarily going though that again. But before he could voice his protest, Professor McGonagall stood and made an announcement.
“Attention everyone,” she called out. “I know there have been a number of rumors flying around about a student returning. Many of you are concerned, but let me assure you that this young wizard has changed.”
Harry gritted his teeth and balled his hands into fists until his knuckles turned white. He didn’t think McGonagall truly understood what she was doing. Despite her reassurance that Malfoy had changed, Harry didn’t agree. Malfoy was a Death Eater; he helped kill Dumbledore and nothing could change that in Harry’s mind.
“I ask that you all give him a chance,” continued McGonagall. “And I know his reintroduction into the castle will be… unconventional. But he requested it and I felt obligated to fulfill his wish,” McGonagall paused to look over the crowd, and gave her saucy wink directly at Harry. The young wizard shivered over the notion of what that wink could mean.
“Let’s all welcome Draco Malfoy back to Hogwarts!” announced McGonagall.
Suddenly, red, green, yellow, and blue lights flashed from the ceiling in rhythm to athundering low bass beat and rapid high screeching beeps. The doors to the Great Hall flew open and smoke billowed in. All the flashing lights pivoted and pointed at the now open door. Then Draco walked in. Well, danced into the Great Hall in tune to the music, more correctly.
The blond wizard shook and swayed his hips as he hopped and spun down the center of the Hall. Throwing his arms up in theatrical triumph, Draco beamed a glorious smile. The flashing lights reflected and sparkled off of the jewels stitched into the fabric of his shimmering pink robes.
“Goodness,”muttered Hermione. “When’d he become gay?”
Harry looked at Draco in disbelief. Malfoy wasn’t gay. Why would Hermione think such a thing? Then the blond Slytherin turned, looked directly at Harry, winked at the raven haired wizard and blew him a kiss. Harry thought it was some sort of elaborate joke, that Malfoy was mocking Harry. But then Harry recalled McGonagall’s statement that Draco had changed. And her saucy wink. At that moment, Harry realized that Draco was not joking nor was his wink and blown kiss done out of mockery.
“Holy shit,” he muttered in fear.
“HELL-O-O-O-O EVERY ONE!” Draco shouted with a lisp, which was odd considering there were no”s” sounds in his greeting. “I’M BACK!” To emphasize this point, the former Prince of Slytherin shoved out his bottom. Of course, his buttocks were pointing straight at Harry.
“Holy shit,” repeated Harry.
“I’m inviting everyone,” Draco said flamboyantly and eyeing Harry, “to stay over the Winter Holiday here at Hogwarts. I’ve planned a welcome back party. We’ll have games and punch!”
Somehow, Harry knew that Draco’s ideas of games involved getting Harry alone in acupboard with some body-oil and introducing ‘Draco, Jr.’ to Harry’s /’no-go-hole’/’.
“That’s a brilliant idea,” Harry said to Hermione. “Let’s go to your folks for the break.”
Harry suddenly realized that he’d rather face the ire of his potential future in-laws than spend a night in the same castle as Draco.
~*~
Over the next week, Harry kept busy by staying away from Draco. Whenever Harry passed Draco, the brave Gryffindor would duck behind something (a statue or tapestry) or someone (usually Hermione) in order to hide his courageous self. Thankfully, Malfoy had not joined the other seventh years in class yet; he was busy trying to catch up on the lessons he had missed. If he had shared lessons with his peers, Harry had a plan in order to avoid any unnecessary or uncomfortable contact. Our hero planned to bravely arrive five minutes late to each lesson that he shared with the Slytherin so that he wouldn’t bump shoulders with Malfoy as they entered. Harry would also leave class early, sneaking out under his Cloak, for the same reason.
At first Hermione had criticized Harry for his irrational fear of Draco. “Just because he’s come out of the closet doesn’t mean he’s going to violate you,”she had argued. Then she saw the love letters that Draco had been slipping under the door of the Head Students quarters. She had gotten as far as “… I want you to pull back my foreskin and…” before she realized that Harry’s irrational fear was actually quite rational.
One day, as Draco pranced down the corridor and Harry hid behind Hermione, the brunette witch asked, “Draco’s a marked Death Eater, how’d you suppose he was able to overcome the pain of the Morgy Ritual? I mean, we sent over a hundred running for help. Why didn’t he end up at St Mungo’s like the others?”
“Don’t know,” Harry whispered, dreading that Draco might hear him.
“Oh hell,” cursed Hermione. “I just remembered. Snape’s on our side.”
“And?”
“And he’s a marked Death Eater. That means he suffered from the Morgy Ritual as well.”
“Good.”
“Harry, we should have warned him,” protested Hermione.
“Why?”
“Because he’s working for us,” she explained. “He’s helping us hunt Horcruxes. We should have warned him that we were planning an attack against all of the Death Eaters.”
“And just how were we supposed to do that?” asked Harry. “I can’t just send him apost now can I?
“‘Dear Snape,
We’re planning on hurting the lot of you. Hope you don’t mind.
Yours truly,
Harry and Hermione.'” mocked Harry.
“We could have tried,” she persisted.
“No, we couldn’t,” Harry countered. “If someone had intercepted our note, Snape would be revealed and most likely killed.”
“Oh,”Hermione breathed.
“Is that Harry Potter?” an effeminate voice called out.
Harry and Hermione looked in horror as Draco skipped toward them, waving his arms about frantically.
“Run,”Harry ordered, dragging Hermione behind him as they bolted around the corner.
~*~
After Hermione placed a simple Glamour Charm on her eyes to change them back to their previous brown (Harry was still paranoid that Hermione’s parents would be furious over the “Sorry I shagged your eyes green” incident), the young couple began packing for their stay at her parents’ house.
“Do Ihave to go?” whimpered Harry. The thought of how upset her parents were when they had found out that Harry and Hermione were having a physical relationship made the young wizard second guess his decision to visit the Grangers.
“You can stay here,” she offered as she folded up several pairs of his socks. “Of course then you’d be risking your virtue with Draco milling about.”
“Let me help you with that,” offered Harry, and placed several of his pullovers into the suitcase.
~*~
The train ride to King’s Cross was uneventful; uneventful to everyone except for Ginny that is.
“Why is the damn train jostling so much,” the red haired witch said peevishly while her complexion turned a nasty green.
Ginny vomited four times in total. Three of those times, she had made it to the loo. Her fourth wasn’t so lucky. Neither was Ron, who was the proud owner of the lap that his sister got sick on.
“What’s your problem?” Ron demanded while he tried to clean the sick from his robes and trousers.
“It’s not me,” Ginny said, wiping her mouth with the back of her sleeve. “The bloody train’s bouncing too much.”
“Well, it’s not bouncing more than it normally does,” Ron pointed out.
One shared looked with Hermione told Harry that his girlfriend was thinking the same thing as he was/; “Ginny’s baby doesn’t like to travel.”/
~*~
If Harry was hoping that Hermione’s parents had grown more accepting of their relationship, his hopes were dashed when Richard, Hermione’s father, greeted the young wizard by asking “Have you enjoyed molesting my princess?”
The car ride to Hermione’s began politely, despite Richard’s greeting. For fifteen minutes, Hermione and her parents talked and talked. Harry, sagely, decided not to tempt the elder Grangers’ ire by attempting to join in on the conversation. Then without warning, Fiona asked her daughter flatly,”Hermione, are you using protection?”
“Of course I am, mother,” Hermione replied, clearly offended that her mother thought such a thing.
“Don’t give me attitude, young lady,” her mother snapped. “I don’t know what types of precautions you have in the magical world and how effective they are.”
“They’re very effective,” informed Hermione.
“Oh really? Tell me, does that red head girl you got off the train with use protection?” demanded Fiona.
“What do you mean?” asked Hermione.
“I can tell she’s pregnant,” Fiona said hotly. “Do you use the same protection she used?”
“How can you tell Ginny’s pregnant?” Hermione inquired. “She isn’t showing, is she?”
“I’m amum, I don’t need to see a bump to tell when someone’s with child.”
“It’s that particular shade of green she had about her,” Richard grumbled, obviously angry that he was forced to be in close proximity to the person responsible for deflowering his princess. “Your mother got that way whenever we would travel back when she had you.”
Harry felt very sorry for Ginny. If Fiona, who only had one child, could tell from adistance with one look that Ginny was pregnant, certainly Mrs. Weasley, who had seven children, would find out. Harry suspected that he would be able to hear Mrs. Weasley screaming at her daughter halfway across the country.
“So, answer the question, young lady. Do you and that girl use the same type of protection?” Fiona asked again.
“No, Iuse a better one. More reliable,” Hermione lied. Clearly she didn’t want to admit to her mother that she did use the same charm Ginny had used but the fact that Neville was so overly-endowed that he was able to physically bypass the seaman repellent charm by pushing through Ginny’s cervix. There are some things one cannot discus with one’s parents. That definitely includes “My friend’s boyfriend makes Hippogriffs feel inadequate.”
/ /When they got to the house, Richard sweetly said to his daughter “Your room’s just the way you left it, princess.” He then turned to Harry and pointed to the couch. “You’ll be sleeping there,” he ordered with a considerable decline in the sweetness factor.
“Dad, we share the same bed at school,” protested Hermione.
Richard turned white then flashed red in less than two seconds.
“Not in my house you don’t,” he said angrily.
“Hermione, dear, it would be irresponsible for us as your parents to allow you to fornicate under our roof. Especially while you two are just dating,” her mother explained. On the surface, her voice was calm and cool, but there was an angry and venomous edge hidden just bellow the calm. “Perhaps when, or if, you marry, we might allow it.”
“Over my dead body,” grumbled Richard while staring daggers at Harry.
“Until then, we will not allow you to do such things,” concluded Fiona.
~*~
The day before Christmas, Harry had to get out of the Granger house. He and Hermione had been there for three days and they hadn’t been left alone for even a second. Her mum and dad were watching the young couple like hungry vultures. If Harry attempted to kiss his girlfriend, one or both of her parents would make a noise (like a cough or a threat of bodily harm) and glower at them.
On the second night, Hermione tried to protest to her mother after the matriarch forced her daughter from giving Harry an innocent kiss.
“Mum, I’ve done a whole lot more than just kiss him,” the brunette witch had dared to say.
“Well, you shouldn’t have, and now you’re paying the price,” her mother said firmly.
“Mum,”Hermione started to argue.
“What you did was rash and foolish,” Fiona chastised. “You should’ve waited before you moved your relationship ahead like that.”
“But mum, you were involved in a three-”
“Don’t give me that! It was the seventies, things like that happened,” Fiona said, using the same excuse that Hermione had used when she had told Harry about the infamous “Tumbleweed Dance” incident.
Because of all the tension in the air and the fact that he hadn’t shopped for Hermione yet, Harry apparated to the Leaky Cauldron so that he could pick up some gifts at Diagon Alley.
As he walked through the dimly lit pub, Harry took notice of a group of wizards sitting at a nearby table. Most of them had their heads hanging low, but one wizard was beaming happily.
“Why so glum, fellows?” the happy wizard asked his peers.
“Why so chipper?” one asked bitterly in response.
Curious as to what these wizards were talking about and why most of them were so down, Harry slowed his pace so that he could overhear the conversation.
“Obviously, you didn’t catch the Prophet the other day and the great news it reported,” the happy wizard stated.
“Yeah, we did,” a sour looking wizard countered. “What’s to be happy about?”
“One hundred and ten Death Eaters captured, my boys,” the nearly euphoric wizard declared. “This war is about to end.”
“One hundred and ten out of how many? Two hundred? Four hundred? A thousand?” a wizard asked with a frighten frown. “No one knows how many followers You Know Who has. He may have so many that a hundred Death Eaters might mean nothing to him.”
“And don’t forget about the giants or werewolves,” another pale faced wizard added. “You Know Who’s still got loads of them following him.”
The formerly happy wizard suddenly turned pale with fright.
“It’s gotten so bad, I can’t concentrate on my work,” one wizard added.
“Work? Hell, I can’t concentrate on my life,” a wizard whose hands trembled stated. “Last night, while in bed with the missus, I couldn’t even sleep much less anything else but worry about Death Eaters or giants busting through my door to kill everyone.”
“You’re over exaggerating a bit aren’t you?” the formerly cheerful wizard asked. The tone of his voice told Harry that the wizard was hoping that his peers would say at any moment that they were joking and that the situation wasn’t so dire.
“My second-cousin, his wife, and two kids were slaughtered last week,” someone offered. “Ever since then, I haven’t slept a wink. I’m always looking out the window for some attacking force.”
As the conversation continued down into despair, Harry made his way to the entrance to Diagon Alley. As the bricks stretched out of the way, a bothersome thought entered his mind; by all rights, everyone should be happy if not elated that scores of Death Eaters were now in custody. Harry and Hermione had done agreat service to wizarding kind by performing the Morgy Ritual… and a great service to themselves because the sex was great, too. But for some reason, people were still frightened.
As Harry made his way to Gringott’s to pick up some money, he noticed that Diagon Alley wasn’t particularly full; only a handful of wizards and witches could be seen. He had expected that it would be jammed with people rushing to buy last minute gifts like he was doing. Sadly, Harry now knew why there weren’t many people about. Just like the wizards in the pub, people were still dreadfully afraid of the war. The fear of Voldemort and his Death Eaters and what they might do had seeped into and affected every aspect of their lives. This was so unlike his fellow students at Hogwarts; they were bright and chipper. The war had not affected them, not to the extent of the adults outside of the school.
The first place Harry stopped after fetching some gold was Flourish and Blotts to pick up a few books for Hermione (in that aspect, his girlfriend was very easy to shop for – any book would be a cherished gift). Then he paid a visit to alittle curio shop to buy something for the Grangers. He looked at statues, but stayed away from anything “Princess” related (he didn’t want to give Hermione’s father a chance to say something like; “Oh this statue of a beautiful princess hasn’t been violated by some hooligan.”). After buying a magical statue of a rose that would blossom every morning, Harry decided he’d buy something special for Hermione, something very personal that he’d give to her in private.
“Oh, hello Harry,” Alicia Spinnet greeted him as he entered the shop. “Welcome back to Franklin’s of Cardiff.”
“Hi, Alicia,” Harry said with a smile.
“Did Hermione like the lingerie you bought her?”she asked. “I always suspected that she had a ‘Hello Kitty’ fetish.”
Recalling that he had not been brave enough to give his girlfriend the bra and knickers that had the cartoon cat stitched in strategic places, Harry muttered, “I forgot about those.”
“So, you’re Christmas shopping for your witch today?” Alicia asked. “We have some very nice holiday themed knickers. They’re called/ ‘gift-wrapped boxes.’/”
“Actually, I was thinking about… uh… toys,” Harry said with a touch of embarrassment.
“It’s always the brainy ones,” Alicia said and her smile broadened.
“Tell me about it,” he said and felt his face heat up even more.
“Did you need some help or did you want to browse around a bit?”
“Um, browse,” he replied.
As Harry shuffled to the back of the shop to where the toys were kept, Alicia said “Just give me a shout if you need any help.”
After thirty minutes of shopping; placing several items back on the shelf only to pick them up again, Harry walked up to the counter and placed the dozen or so toys in front of Alicia.
“Wow, she really is kinky?” Alicia said, clearly impressed at the number of products Harry had selected.
“Yeah,” Harry said, unable to make eye contact.
Alicia rang the first three items up. Then she pointed to the fourth and asked “Have you used anything like that yet?”
“No, not yet,” Harry said while looking around the shop, hoping that no one could see what he was purchasing. Even though the shop was devoid of other customers, he was still nervous.
“You must tell me if it’s fun,” she said and placed the cardboard tube that contained the fourth item into a paper bag.
“Um, sure,” he said as politely as he could without blushing.
As Alicia continued to tally up the many toys, Harry took notice of a number of books behind the counter. Knowing that books were always welcomed for Hermione, Harry looked them over. Many of them had to do with beauty, make-up and hair, a few dealt with celebrities, but oddly, only three books covered sex and intimacy. Harry had assumed that a shop like this would be overflowing with books on such things.
“I see that you’re checking out our sex-book collection,” Alicia said following his gaze. “Don’t waste your time. One deals exclusively with/ ‘the joys of the missionary position.’ /It’s the most prudish sex-book I’ve ever heard about. The other two are more than fifty years-old and only cover a few simple positions, nothing fun.”
“I’m surprised,” Harry said and finally made eye-contact with the witch. “I would’ve reckoned a place like this would have loads of books.”
“No one’s written one in a while,” she said. “Not worth reading anyway.”
Harry pondered over the idea of copying his ‘special book’ and passing it out. It was old, like two of the books the shop had, but it was dead helpful – not just with sex either, the book had some useful spells and whatnot.
“Well, that’ll be thirty-five galleons, eight sickles, and twenty-seven knuts, please,” Alicia said and pushed the bag to Harry.
“Shouldn’t it be more?”
“I gave you the employee discount. You’re the first sale I’ve had in weeks let alone the only customer in days. No one’s even bothering to come in anymore. Everyone is so preoccupied that sex is the last thing on their mind,” Alicia said with a touch of disappointment. “Preoccupied isn’t the right way to describe it. Scared is more like it.”
“If I’m the only customer you’ve had in a while, you guys must be hurting financially,” Harry said, trying to steer the conversation away from the war. “I don’t want to take any money away from you, especially if nothing is coming in. Besides, I don’t like taking things I don’t think I’ve earned. And getting a discount just because I’m the only one here doesn’t feel right.”
“Okay then, let’s make a deal; you keep the discount but you have to do something in return, that way you will have earned it,” Alicia smiled sweetly at Harry and reached in the bag to pull out the mystery toy hidden in the tube. “But you must tell me how this works out, okay? I’ve been eyeing this for weeks but I’m a little curious to find out if it’s any good or not.”
If this had happened a few months previously, Harry would’ve been floored in embarrassment. The idea of someone asking him such a personal question would have left him flabbergasted. But now, after nearly every student and at least some of the teachers at Hogwarts had seen him and Hermione have sex (a lot), Harry was quite surprised to find that he wasn’t embarrassed. In fact, his previous shame over buying sex-toys disappeared as well.
With alopsided grin, Harry said, “I’ll owl you the first chance I get.”
He waved his wand over the bag, shrinking it and its contents to the size of amatchbox. Giving his former housemate and Quidditch partner a wave goodbye, Harry walked out of the shop.
~*~
That night, Harry, Hermione, and her parents had a special dinner made up of ham and all the trimmings. Like the last time he had visited the Grangers, Richard, Fiona, and Hermione had wine whereas Harry was only allowed milk.
Harry and Hermione were asked (okay, ordered) to sit at the opposite ends of the table. These spots, traditionally held by the parents, were given to the young lovers, clearly to put as much distance away from one another.
Throughout the dinner, Richard continuously glared threateningly at Harry while the older man stabbed and speared his food as if subconsciously trying to stab and spear Harry in effigy. Fiona did a bang up job of pretending that Harry wasn’t there much less even alive.
Remembering his mistake of not eating his meal the first time he visited and how upset Richard was, Harry forced himself to eat. As he ate his meal, Fiona (whose back was turned to Harry) was having a pleasant conversation with Hermione.
“Have you learned anything exciting, dear?” she asked her daughter. “I do so love some of the things you can do with magic.”
Hermione brightened. A smile graced her lips, one that her parents seemed to believe was sweet and innocent. However, Harry had come to realize that the particular smile Hermione had meant that was preparing to do something naughty. He gulped in fear.
Hermione pulled her wand out of her pocket, waved it around almost theatrically, and incanted “/”Loninquitas Amorus!”/
“eep,”murmured Harry. Being the creator of the spell Hermione had just incanted, Harry knew what was about to happen and knew that he was about to enter a whole world of trouble.
“Nothing happened, dear,” Richard commented.
“Oh, silly me, I messed up the incantation,” she said and her not-so-innocent smile widened. She waved her wand again and said “Saltatus Candelabrum!”
The two candle-sticks that adorned the table jumped in the air and began to spin and dance two feet above Richard and Fiona’s heads.
“That’s simply lovely,” Fiona said in wide eyed wonder. Richard, was transfixed as well, nodded his head in agreement.
While her parents’ attention was on the flying candle-sticks, Hermione snatched a pad of butter with her left hand. Before she lowered her hand and hid it under the table, Harry could see her fingers flexing into and relaxing from a fist, spreading the smeared butter over her palm and fingers.
Harry shook his head and silently begged Hermione with a pleading look in his eyes not to continue with her plan. If her parents discovered what she was doing, they’d certainly be furious. The twinkle in her eyes told Harry that he was adead man.
Then, he felt it. Harry could feel Hermione’s greasy fingers stroke his flaccid organ. Thanks to the charm Harry himself had created (the Long Distance Love Charm)Hermione was beginning to give him a magical hand-job from six feet away. Despite his fear and dread of being discovered by the elder Grangers, Harry’s penis was more than eager for a romp. It didn’t matter to ‘Harry, Jr.’/what dire trouble was going on; the walls could be crumbling down around Harry’s ears and ‘Harry, Jr.’/ would be up for a go with Hermione. He could feel his member grow and swell, stretching down his trouser leg. Much like how a snake burrows in the earth.
Richard’s attentions snapped from the candles to Harry. At first Harry had feared that Hermione’s father had discovered that his daughter was using magic to stimulate Harry and that the young wizard had a raging hard on as he sat at the table. At any moment, Harry expected Richard’s hands around his throat.
“So, what are your intentions with my daughter?” he demanded.
“Sir?”asked Harry. Hermione took this awkward opportunity to give Harry a squeeze. In Response, Harry sat bolt straight in his chair.
Evidently, Richard took this motion that Harry was being polite and attentive, not that his daughter was magically playing with the boy’s cock. “I asked; what are your intentions with Hermione? Do you plan on dumping her now that you’ve gotten into her skirt?”
“Daddy,”chastised Hermione. Clearly, she wasn’t overly upset with her father’s attitude because at that moment, she gave Harry a long, firm stroke. All the way from the base, up to his crown, and back down again.
“No, Hermione, your father and I have the right to know,” Fiona insisted and finally turned to face Harry.
“Can you at least be gentle with him?” asked Hermione as she rolled her thumb over’Harry, Jr.’s head.
“Just for you, princess,” her father agreed. Obviously, he was still wrapped around his little girl’s pinky on some level.
Smiling, Hermione moved her other hand so that it too disappeared under the table. The next second, Harry could feel Hermione’s hand massaging his testicles while the other continued to slowly stroke him.
“Well, sir… and ma’am…” Harry fidgeted in his seat. Beads of sweat popped up all over his face. Luckily, the Grangers assumed that he was sweating because he was in the hot seat so to speak, not because Hermione was wanking him. “I intend to marry her.”
“What? Now?” asked Richard while chuckling in a mocking way.
“You’re a bit young to get married,” added Fiona. “You’re not just saying that in hopes that we’ll accept your relationship are you?”
Harry bit his lip. He knew that Hermione was getting off on this, making him so uncomfortable. And the only way she’d stop was when he climaxed.
“Please cum,” Harry muttered softly, praying this would end soon.
“What was that?” Fiona asked.
“Um… err.. no, ma’am. I will marry her… just not now… come when we have things settled… jobs and whatnot,” Harry said, trying to recover from his slip of the tongue.
“Well, what would you say if we won’t accept that you want to marry Hermione?” Richard asked.
Harry was having difficulty not only speaking coherently, but also from not overtly fidgeting in his seat. Hermione was stroking him at a slow and agonizing rate. He felt almost compelled to thrust his hips forward, to urge her to pick up her pace.
“Not really your choice,” Harry said boldly. Well, it would’ve been bold if he had comprehended what he was saying. He was so focused on the hand-job and not alerting Hermione’s parents to it that he didn’t fully comprehend just what he was saying beyond not blurting out ‘Your daughter’s rubbing one out of me.’ “I’ll marry Hermione whether you like it or not.”
Both Richard and Fiona were visibly taken back. If Harry had not been so preoccupied with the magical hand-job, he would’ve wondered if the elder Grangers had done so because they were impressed with his bravery or if they had taken offense at his brashness. On the other hand, Hermione seemed to be impressed by Harry’s words because she began to rub him faster. If their attention had not been so fixed on Harry, Richard and Fiona would have been perplexed by Hermione; her hands were moving so fast that she was rocking her arms.
“She is my sunshine,” Harry muttered, still not comprehending what he was saying. “I live for her.”
Fiona’s expression suddenly softened whereas Richard demanded of Harry “Why are you glowing?”
“He does that when he thinks about pure love,” Hermione said with a rosy bloom to her cheeks. She was grinning from ear to ear, as if basking in the golden light. “Harry’s power comes from love and whenever he focuses or thinks about true love, he throws off light. It makes anyone in the light feel good and happy, even loved. I saw him turn a foul painting into a… well, she became nicer… well less of a bitch.”
“Oh,”Richard asked as his expression softened like his wife’s. For a few moments, Richard and Fiona shared an understanding look. Finally, Fiona offered; “Well, maybe we’ve been a little too rough on you.”
They may have come to this conclusion because they accepted Harry and Hermione’s love (on a very small scale, mind you, a scale that included no touching) or because the glow that Harry was throwing off made them feel happy and therefore a little more forgiving.
“OH THANK GOD!” cried Harry.
“Now don’t get ahead of yourself, young man,” Richard said sternly while wagging afinger at him. “We still aren’t giving you permission to fool around, especially under our roof.”
As his loving glow subsided, Harry nodded his head in acceptance. To be honest, he hadn’t cried out because of what Fiona had said. He had done so because he had finally climaxed and shot his load down his trouser leg. But Hermione’s parents didn’t need to know that.
“Let’s clear this up,” Fiona said while gesturing to the dinner plates, “so that we can move onto dessert.”
“I’ve got it, mum,” Hermione said and waved her wand. With a small whoosh sound, the plates took to the air and flew into the kitchen. Another flick of her wand and a chocolate cake floated out of the kitten and glided on the table.
“Oh, that looks wonderful,” Richard said in appreciation of the cake.
“Hermione made it,” Fiona said as she began to cut up the dessert.
Harry gave Hermione a questioning look. He knew for a fact (thanks to her failed attempts at making a cake for Ron) that Hermione could not cook. In response, Hermione gave Harry a look that told him that she cherished what he had said about how he felt for her and that she would show him this appreciation by shagging his brains out in a short matter of time. It really didn’t answer his question of whether or not she had made the cake, but he didn’t mind -especially since he was about to get his brains shagged out.
After giving out equal portions to all at the table, everyone began to dig in. The first bite told Harry that a House Elf had made it (it was far too moist and delicious for Hermione to have made), perhaps Dobby. Within a very short time, Hermione’s parents had started on their second helpings.
“I really shouldn’t,” Fiona said as she scooped up a forkful. “But it’s so delicious.”
Harry had to agree; it was a very good dessert. But under the chocolate, he could taste an odd flavor he didn’t normally associate with chocolate cake. It was by no means unpleasant, but it was unexpected.
With aclank, Hermione’s parents dropped their forks after they finished their second helping onto their empty plates. They looked at each other with dark and heavy lidded eyes.
“Well, I’m off to bed,” Fiona said breathily. Slowly, she rose up from her seat and sauntered to the hallway, swaying her hips as she went. As she walked away, Harry noticed where Hermione had inherited her wonderful bottom from. The older Granger woman turned and looked at her husband. “Care to join me, Richard?”
“Um, yes,” Hermione’s father nearly sputtered his response. He stood and Harry had to avert his eyes. Apparently, Richard had liked the cake so much that he had become aroused.
Richard began to follow his wife out of the dining room when he stopped and said to Hermione and Harry “We’re turning in early. This doesn’t mean you two are allowed-” he began to lecture when Fiona called out:
“RICHARD, GET UP HERE NOW!”
Completely forgetting what he had been planning on saying, Hermione’s father dashed out of the room and his footsteps thundered up the stairs. A second later, Harry heard a door slam shut.
“What the hell is up with them?” Harry asked. Then for some unknown reason, ‘Harry, Jr.’ started to wake up again. He was about to congratulate himself on his virility when he saw the knowing smile on Hermione’s lips.
“What did you do?” he asked, knowing that she was up to something.
Hermione took her time to answer. She ate another bite of the cake, working it slowly in her mouth. While she chewed, Harry felt himself rise to his full hardness.
“You spiked the cake?” he asked.
“No, Ihad Dobby spike it,” she corrected. “While you were shopping today, I popped over to Hogwarts and had Dobby whip up this dessert. Knowing that mum and dad were a little tense, I added something to help them relax.”
“What did you add?”
“A few dosages of Lust and Stamina Potions,” she said with sweet innocence. “They’ll be going at it like Ron and Luna on an all night sex romp.”
“Wait, we ate the cake too,” Harry pointed out.
“Well, I guess that means we’ll be going at it like Ron and Luna as well.”
“Good point,” agreed Harry. “Let’s head to your room.”
Walking up the stairs while/ ‘Harry, Jr.’ /was more than ready to play was alittle painful and downright uncomfortable. The organ kept getting pinched as he climbed the stairs. The loud moans coming from Hermione’s parents’ room told Harry that they weren’t about to stick their heads out to see who was coming up the stairs. So, to alleviate his discomfort, Harry paused and freed his friend.
“My, Ithink I may have used a little too much Lust Potion,” commented Hermione wryly as she looked at the organ jutting out of her boyfriend’s trousers.
As they passed the room where Richard and Fiona were making love like sex starved teens, Hermione magically locked their door. Once they were in Hermione’s room the brunette witch waved her wand again, casting a Silencing Charm.
“You were a bad witch down there,” Harry said. “Wanking me off in front of your parents and then spiking the desserts. Very bad.”
“How bad?” she asked. By the look in her eyes, Harry could tell that she was ready to pounce.
“Bad enough to be punished.”
“I had hoped so,” she said, smiling. “Will I be paddled?”
“No.”
“No?”she asked with a shocked expression. “I think I deserved to be spanked. In fact, I demand it.”
“Too bad,” Harry said flatly. “I have a different idea for punishment.”
Harry pulled his wand out and conjured a big squashy chair. As he sat down, Hermione asked “Is my punishment going to be in the form of a blow-job?”
“No, you will get on your bed and pleasure yourself,” Harry informed. “While Iwatch.”
“How about you masturbate while I do the same,” she offered. “That way I can see you pleasure yourself as I pleasure myself.”
“And if you hadn’t been a bad witch I’d happily agree to that,” Harry returned and crossed his legs. He was trying to look reserved and sophisticated, an added visual element to the whole scenario. But having his naked and erect organ jutting out of his lap somewhat ruined the effect. “You were naughty, and this is your punishment.”
“Have it your way,” Hermione shrugged.
She crawled onto her bed and slowly removed her top. Her skirt was next to be flung to the side after being removed. One glance and Harry was able to confirm the Lust Potion Hermione had spiked the cake with was affecting her as well; her nipples threatened to poke through her bra and a wet patch could easily be seen on her knickers. After discarding her bra, the brunette witch teased her nipples.
“I bet that you won’t be able to hold out; you’ll jump me in less than five minutes,”she dared while tracing circles around her hard nubs with her fingertips.
“You’re on,” he replied, taking the challenge. “If I win – and by win I mean I won’t wank myself or jump on you until after you cum – I get to do whatever I want to you for the rest of the night.”
“Within reason,” Hermione said, giving her nipples a pinch.
“What do you consider/ ‘within reason’/?” he asked, resisting the urge to help Hermione tweak her nipples.
“I don’t want to be hanging halfway out the window shouting ‘Fuck me harder Harry, fuck me harder!’ or anything like that.”
“Gotcha, no dangling out of windows,” Harry agreed. “What if you win?”
“I watch you masturbate,” she said and then added; “And if you win – which you won’t – you definitely can’t take me into the hall and bang me while I’m leaning up against my mum and dad’s door.”
“I think you’re stalling,” Harry stated. His girlfriend was about to protest, but he clicked his fingers and ordered, “Enough dawdling, start fingering ‘Miss Nibbles.'”
Her fingers hooked around the sides of her knickers and she tugged them down. In aslow and deliberate tease, Hermione dragged the tips of her fingers all over her lower half without touching any of the fun parts. She was smiling, knowing that it was driving Harry mad.
Sitting on his chair, Harry watched with a mask of bemusement; which was rather difficult for the young wizard. What he wanted to do was shout at Hermione”WOULD YOU STICK A FINGER IN ALREADY!” He knew, however, that if would do this, it would just egg his lover on and she would continue to tease him until he lost his cool and jumped her; thereby losing the bet. So he forced himself to sit there, watching in a false patient manner.
“Oh God,” Hermione breathed out when her fingers (/’finally’ /thought Harry)brushed against her clit. She began making circular motions with her forefinger on the bud. The wicked smile that had been adorning her face disappeared. It was now replaced with a slack mouth and half-shut eyes.
As he watched (which he was doing very intently), Harry saw that Hermione was very turned on. He pondered whether this was so because of the Lust Potion or if his girlfriend really liked being watched. As Hermione pinched her clit, he came to assume that it was the latter.
While Hermione slid a finger in, ‘Harry, Jr.’ /looked up at Harry with a tear in its eye. The organ was begging Harry to get up from the chair and give Hermione a hand… or better yet; a penis. Harry tried to console his member and say that he had a plan and if they played their cards right, they could have a lot of fun with Hermione. But ‘Harry, Jr.’ /was impatient and it wanted to have fun right then, Harry’s plans be damned. Harry almost caved when Hermione took her free hand and pushed her middle finger into her bottom. The happy squeal she made nearly shattered his resolve.
When Hermione asked, between rapid pants “Touch yourself, Harry,” the wizard slipped and he placed his hand on his member. His need for her had grown desperate. But he screwed up his courage and let go of ‘Harry, Jr.’. He wanted to be in win this bet.
Several agonizing long minutes later (well, agonizing for Harry because he felt like he was about to explode but Hermione enjoyed those minutes completely) Hermione reached ecstasy.
“I can’t believe you made it,” commented Hermione breathily.
“I won,” Harry said and stood. He reached into his pocket and retrieved the shrunken bag of goodies he had bought at Franklin’s. “I was going to give you these when we got back to the castle, but I figure why not now?”
He waved his wand over the bag, canceling the Shrinking Charm. From her seat on the bed, Hermione tried to peer into the bag. “What is it?” she asked.
Harry didn’t respond. However, he stuck his hand into the bag, fished around a bit, and pulled out a crimson-red ball-gag. He dangled it in midair, showing it off to Hermione. The witch’s eyes grew wide with excitement. “Toys!” she squealed.
Harry placed the still full bag on the ground and walked to his lover with the gag in his hands. As he started to bring the toy to Hermione face, she said “You know I won’t be able to suck you off with that in my mouth.”
“Oh, woe is me. I guess I’ll just have to suffer,” he said lightly and put the ball in her mouth. Harry fastened the strap behind her head and walked back to the bag.
“Mrph mrrmwgink?” Hermione attempted to ask through the gag.
“If you asked where am I going, you’ll see,” he replied and pulled the package that Alicia had been so interested in out of the bag.
Hermione cocked an eyebrow, as if to ask what the tube contained. Harry smiled and he popped the lid off. He reached in and slowly and theatrically pulled the toy out. His finger was hooked around a red ring. Dangling from that ring was along string. Five small rubber balls, each the size of a walnut, were separated by two inches on that string.
As Hermione flung herself over and stuck out her bottom, clearly giving Harry the go-ahead to use the toy, Harry recalled how he felt for his witch. Harry loved Hermione completely. He practically worshiped her. And he was going to show that love and devotion he felt for her by pushing this toy up her bottom, ball by ball, and shagging her senseless. As the wizard began to push the first ball into her bum, the room lit up from Harry’s special glow. Love is grand.

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Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor
Chapter Twenty-Three: What’s a Tree?
Disclaimer: Not mine, I own nothing. I’m not making any money.
WARNING: Harsh Language, adult themes, sexual situations (i.e. smut), bad spelling and grammar.
Author’s Notes: This story is a broad farce with over the top humor (a good deal of it is crude and sexual) and OOC actions (that’s Out Of Character if you don’t know). Also, this is my first smut-ish fic. If you don’t like sex and sex-based humor, do NOT read this!
Chapter Twenty-Three: The ultimate male fantasy gets a booster shot from one of Harry’s classmates and Another Horcrux Hunt!
Harry and Hermione ended up having to wait a week before giving Ron and Luna the Pensieve memory lesson. They had forgotten one vital ingredient in their plan: an actual Pensieve. The two young lovers had been so caught up with the notion of making a naughty educational memory for their best friends to view that they hadn’t realized that they did not have a physical Pensieve basin for Ron and Luna to use. Harry had considered using Dumbledore’s Pensieve, but didn’t want to go to Professor McGonagall and ask /”May we borrow Dumbledore’s Pensieve? Hermione and I made a Sex Educational memory and we need to show it to Ron and Luna.” /So, Harry decided to buy a Pensieve of his own and ordered it through an Owl Order Catalog.
Once it arrived, a very nervous Harry and a blushing Hermione handed the Pensieve, with the silvery liquid already in it, to Ron and Luna.
“What’s this?” Ron asked as he looked at the basin.
“It’s a little something to help you two out,” Harry answered cryptically.
“You mean like homework?” Ron inquired.
“Yes,” Hermione said with a wink to Luna. “A very special type of homework.”
Realization dawned in the blonde witch’s eyes and it was clear that she knew what memory was contained in the Pensieve. Luna rapidly embraced Hermione and whispered a “thank you” in her ear. Ron, who was still looking at the swirling silver liquid, missed this interchange.
“Now remember to study this in private. And don’t show this to anyone,” Hermione concluded.
“Why wouldn’t you want us to show anyone else?” Ron asked, still oblivious as to the Pensieve’s contents.
“You’ll see, Ronald,” Luna said with a glow to her face. She wrapped her arm around her husband’s and quickly led him out of Harry and Hermione’s chambers. “Let’s go study, my love.”
A few seconds after their friends left, Dobby came strolling into Harry and Hermione’s room with a tray piled high with food and the morning edition of the Daily Prophet. The house elf set their breakfast in front of them and Harry thanked Dobby.
“You’s be welcomed, Harry Potter sir,” the elf squeaked happily. “Dobby be thinking that Harry Potter’s Weazy and Harry Potter’s Weazy’s big boobied Missus would be joining Harry Potter and the Great One for Breakfast. That be the reason why Dobby be bringing so much food; Harry Potter’s Weazy be eating like a starved wizard. Several starved wizards, really.”
“That was very kind, Dobby,” Hermione said while she unfolded the Daily Prophet. “But Ron and Luna had to do something so they couldn’t join us.”
As Harry munched on some food, Hermione gasped aloud: “Oh no!”
“What is it?” Harry asked after quickly swallowing a mouthful of kipper.
“Voldemort’s attacked again,” she said and then read the article on the front page of the Prophet:
“You Know Who Strikes Again!
The dreaded Dark Mark hovering over Honeydukes Sweet Shop alerted authorities of an attack. When MLE and Aurors arrived at the sweet shop, they found that a struggle had ensued and that the shop’s proprietor, Ambrosius Flume, and his wife were missing. It is believed that Mr. and Mrs. Flume were the most recent victims to be taken by He Who Must Not Be Named.
“The motivation behind the Flumes’ abduction remains unclear. When Florean Fortescue was kidnapped, it was widely believed that the ice-cream maker was nabbed because of his in depth knowledge of history. However, Mr. Flume has been described as only knowing how to make sweets and is allegedly woefully inept in other fields. In fact, some of his friends believe that he is an idiot savant and could only make sweets. Why You Know Who would target this wizard and his wife is a mystery. Surely he could not have abducted them simply because of Flume’s skill in baking sweets. The Ministry has downplayed the notion that He Who Must Not Be Named has an insatiable sweet tooth as being ludicrous.”
/ /”He has to be stopped,” Harry announced. It chilled him to his bones that Voldemort had struck yet again, this time at Hogsmeade; a short distance away from the school. “We’ll go and destroy one of his Horcruxes tomorrow.”
“I agree, but tomorrow? Hermione asked. “Isn’t that a bit quick?”
“I’ve wasted enough time,” Harry countered. “The longer I wait, more people get hurt!”
“I’m not saying we shouldn’t go after them,” Hermione replied, trying to placate Harry’s growing anger. “It’s just that we should take the time to plan how to get the Horcux. Which one should we go after?” Hermione asked.
“Well, not counting the one we can’t seem to locate, there are three Horocruxes left including Voldemort. There’s the locket that Zardoz has. And the one under the orphanage where Voldemort was raised,” Harry responded. After a moment of thought, he added; “The orphanage probably has a bunch of hidden entrances and traps much like the ones Voldemort placed around the cave. I doubt that the locket has any traps around it. But we’d have to get it away from Zardoz first.”
“All right, let’s compare the difficulties of going after each one,” suggested Hermione. “This Zardoz fellow is an unknown factor. We could explain to him why we need the locket and if we are lucky, he would just hand it over to us to save the world.”
“But he could be a Death Eater or sympathizer who doesn’t realize what the locket is,” Harry sounded. “If he found out what it truly was, he’d never hand it over.”
“So obviously, we can’t tell him why we need the locket unless we do some major research into his background; see if he’s had any anti-Muggle tendencies. Perhaps he could be bribed,” offered Hermione. “Buy the locket from him.”
“That may work. But Borgin said something about Zardoz being a collector of relics belonging to the founders. If he is a die hard collector, we’d have to give him a fortune. He might not even be willing to part with it for any price.”
“Okay, so we can’t go after Zardoz without doing some investigation and research,” announced Hermione. “That leaves the one under the orphanage. You said that it could have a bunch of traps because of your experience in the cave. Exactly what kinds of traps were used in and around the cave?”
“Well, first, the entrance was hidden, like I said. Then we had to cross the lake, but we could only do so by crossing on a specific boat; a boat that was hidden magically no less. Oh, and the boat would only allow one magical person to cross at a time. Dumbledore said that he and I could cross because I was so underpowered that the charms and hexes on the boat wouldn’t even recognize me as a wizard,” explained Harry.
“Wait a minute,” Hermione interrupted. “You’re actually quite powerful, Harry. In fact, you’re more powerful than many adult wizards.”
“Yeah, but that’s just because of the power boosting ritual I preformed,” Harry pointed out.
“I’m talking about before the ritual,” Hermione replied. “You were able to perform the Patronus Charm perfectly when you were only thirteen years old.”
“Big deal; Tonks was able to do it easily,” Harry said. “And she was depressed at the time.”
“I think that may have been a fluke,” Hermione argued. “Besides, even if it wasn’t a fluke, she is a fully trained Auror. She has had three more years of training than most witches and wizards.
“Remember what happened when you were on trial for under-aged magic?” Hermione continued. “You told me that a number of the Wizengamot were gob smacked that you could perform the Patronus. We know for a fact that at least two members of the Wizengamot were so impressed that they talked to their family and co-workers: Amelia Bones told her niece, Susan. That’s why Susan wanted to join the DA. And at least another member brought it up with the O.W.L. board because one of them specifically asked you to perform it during our DADA exam.
“Let’s talk about the graveyard where Voldemort was resurrected,” Hermione went on. “You threw off the Imperius Curse – an Unforgivable to which there is no defense. Added to that, the Imperius was cast by one of the most powerful wizards of our age. You also fought off a score of Death Eaters as you dragged Cedric’s body back to the cup-Portkey, even though you were injured.”
“So then why did the boat allow me to cross?” Harry asked. “If I was as powerful as you say, it should’ve recognized me as a full wizard and not allow both me and Dumbledore to cross.”
“The boat did recognize you. It recognized you as Voldemort,” Hermione answered.
“What?” Harry blurted out.
“Remember the prophesy, Harry. / ‘…the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal,'” /Hermione quoted. “When Voldemort made the boat, he must’ve created the charms and hexes to disregard his presence. That way, he could hop on the boat and ride across the lake if he ever wanted to check on his Horcrux. And since he marked you as an equal, the wards and charms on the boat recognized you as being Voldemort himself and allowed you to cross with Dumbledore. Actually, I’m surprised that Professor Dumbledore didn’t come up with that explanation.”
“Oh,” Harry said in understanding.
“So what other wards and traps were there?” the brunette witch asked.
“Well, there was the cauldron,” he replied. “It was full of a green liquid. We couldn’t touch the liquid, so Dumbledore figured out that someone had to drink it.”
“Wait, what?” Hermione interrupted once more. “You couldn’t touch it but Dumbledore somehow came to the conclusion that he could drink it? How did he come up with that? And if you couldn’t touch it, how would you be able to drink it?”
“I don’t know, he didn’t tell me,” admitted Harry.
Hermione looked at Harry as she chewed her lip, clearly deep in thought. After a moment she asked; “You said that the entrance to the cave and the boat itself were hidden magically. How did you find them?”
“I didn’t find them, Dumbledore did,” he answered.
“Did he tell you how he was able to find them?”
“No, he said that he was able to recognize Voldemort’s handiwork,” he replied.
“Damn that insufferable man!” Hermione cursed. “What was he thinking?”
“What do you mean?”
“He didn’t tell you how you could recognize any traps that may have been placed around the Horcruxes,” she explained. “This was important information and he didn’t tell you anything. He didn’t teach you any charms that would reveal traps or even how to get past them! And don’t get me started on those asinine lessons he gave you last year. He wasted your time; instead of teaching you helpful charms and hexes, he spent a year showing you the magical equivalent to Voldemort’s home movies.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Harry agreed. He started to feel a little angry at the deceased Headmaster. Harry was destined to face Voldemort, the most feared wizard in the world, and all Dumbledore taught Harry was that Voldemort liked to collect things. How the hell that was supposed to be helpful was not clear to Harry.
Pushing his bitter ponderings to the side, Harry returned to the subject of which Horcrux they should go after next. “We should probably go after Slytherin’s locket first. That one probably won’t have any traps around it.”
“Yes, you’re right,” agreed Hermione. “We’ll send a post to this Zardoz and try to set up a meeting.”
“Good idea,” he responded. “Since he’s a collector of founder relics, I can tell him that I’m the new owner of Gryffindor’s Sword.”
“You’re not suggesting we swap the sword for the locket are you?”
“Oh, no. I was just thinking I could use the sword as an incentive to meet with us,” corrected Harry. “I reckon that he would be eager to see it.”
“I see. And when we meet with him, we can persuade him to hand over the locket,” concluded Hermione.
Harry made his way over to the desk and wrote a quick note:
“Dear Zardoz,
I’m Harry Potter. I own the Sword of Gryffindor. You want to see it?
Harry Potter.”
/ /Hermione took one look at Harry’s post and shook her head disapprovingly.
“Let me handle the writing,” she said as she began to write her own letter. “When I’m done, you can copy it.”
“What’s wrong with my note?” he asked. “It’s direct and to the point. What’s the matter with that?”
“Harry, it sounds like you’re propositioning him,” she pointed out. “‘Hi, I’m Harry; wanna see my sword. Wink wink, nudge nudge, know what I mean?'”
/ /”Oh, I see your point.”
Hermione’s letter was much longer than Harry’s and was filled with flowery words and phrases such as “Dear Mr. Zardoz…” “I would be honored…” /and “please….” /After Harry copied his girlfriend’s note, he made his way to the owlery and had Hedwig deliver the post to Zardoz.
As they waited for Zardoz’s response, Harry and Hermione busied themselves with research. The library had an expansive collection of past editions of the Daily Prophet which the teens scoured through in hopes of finding anything on the enigmatic Zardoz. Unfortunately, they could only find a few scant references to the wizard; in 1982, he had an appearance before the Wizengamot asking for permission to lead an expeditionary team into Hogwarts to find the Chamber of Secrets in hopes of finding artifacts from Salazar Slytherin. And in an editorial cartoon from 1991, a caricature identified as Zardoz was hopping up and down chanting/ “I’ve found the lost dill sandwich of Ravenclaw!”/
/ /Since their research into Zardoz had not proved useful in the slightest, Harry and Hermione turned their attention to the Horcrux located under the orphanage. They delved into any book they could find on ward detection and magical traps in preparation for going after the unknown Horcrux.
Three days later, Hedwig returned as Harry and Hermione were having breakfast with the rest of the school in the Great Hall. The snowy owl stuck out her leg for Harry and presented a reply from Zardoz.
“Thank you Mr. Potter for your generous offer. I would so enjoy seeing your relic, but I must take you up at a later date. You see, I, and all of my founders’ relics, are on a world tour at this time. Currently, I am displaying my wonderful collection to very important people in //Belgium//. In the morning, I will head directly to the Gruenberg castle in //Germany/ to show them my precious relics. Then we are off to /Asia//. I will not be back to //England/ for three weeks. When I return, I will send you a post and set up a time when I can see your famous sword./
Zardoz.”
/ /”Damn,” Harry groaned out. “Three weeks.”
“Perhaps we should go after the other Horcrux?” suggested Hermione.
“What about the wards and traps that might be around it?” he asked.
“Well, we’ll just have to deal with any that come up,” Hermione said. “Let’s spend the rest of the week cramming, trying to learn as much as possible. On Saturday, we’ll go after the Horcrux under the orphanage.”
After classes that night, Harry and Hermione stopped by the library and fetched as many books on ward-breaking as they could find and returned to their chamber. A short while later, Ron and Luna joined them.
“I cannot begin to show my appreciation for what you two did for Ronald and me,” Luna stated in her usual dreamy tone. “Because of that Pensieve, our love life has improved, much like the Spotted Tailed Mongoose-Bat’s life improves when they migrate to Bolivia every year.”
“Please, it was our pleasure,” Hermione said as she picked up a sandwich from the tray that Dobby was carrying around the room.
“Still, Ronald and I are indebted to you two,” Luna said and returned to her book.
“Oh, look here, this one describes that silly boat Dumbledore and I rode on,” Harry announced as he read from a book titled “Potent Wards and How to Break Them.” /”It’s called ‘Vacillatio Canna’ or ‘Don’t Rock the Boat’ /hex.”
“I wonder if Dumbledore had come across that book when he was researching,” Hermione pondered.
*
The night before they were set to go to the orphanage, Hermione suggested that they should perform one of the rituals that she had created. The ritual in question created an advanced and powerful constant Shield Charm. She theorized that it would take at least seven Stun Charms to bring the Shield down. If it was not destroyed, the Shield would remain around each of them for at least two days.
They figured that if they did the ritual that they would be protected if anything went wrong while they hunted the Horcrux.
The ritual itself was a very enjoyable activity. First, they wrote runes and other symbols all over each other’s body with a mixture of cream and honey. Then Harry had to sit on the floor with his legs crossed and then Hermione straddled him. It was rather fun for Harry to have Hermione bounce up and down while grinding her hips into his.
Even though it was a very simple ritual, Harry and Hermione created a Pensieve for Ron and Luna so that they wouldn’t perform it improperly (which, from previous experience, was a distinct possibility). The married couple successfully performed the ritual just minutes after Harry had given them the Pensieve memory.
Saturday finally rolled around and Harry, Hermione, Ron and Luna met in the Great Hall before heading out.
“What kind of supplies should we bring?” Ron asked.
“Well, I have all the notes on ward detection and breaking that we’ve been taking all week,” Hermione announced.
“I brought a number of healing potions as a precaution,” Luna added.
“And the Shield ritual we performed should protect us,” Harry concluded.
Harry was about to suggest that the group should get going when he was interrupted. As he opened his mouth to speak, Su Li (the exotic beauty from Ravenclaw) threw her arms around Harry’s neck and planted a very deep tongue kiss on our hero. Harry stood there in shock; he had never even said a single word to the pretty witch and now here she was shoving her tongue into his mouth for some unknown reason.
“What the hell do you think you are doing?” demanded Hermione.
In response to the brunette witch, Su released Harry… and repeated the same act she had performed with Harry on Hermione. Harry watched in utter awe and fascination as Su wrapped her arms around Hermione and kissed the witch soulfully. Hermione’s eyes bulged in surprise as the Asian witch forced her tongue into her mouth. And speaking of/ “bulging”/;/ the sight of two very pretty witches kissing passionately (even though one witch was “passionate” while the other was stunned) awakened ‘Harry, Jr.’. /The raven haired wizard’s jaw dropped open as all the blood rushed out of his upper head and ran to his lower one.
“I thought Su Li was dating Zacharias Smith,” Luna commented.
“Eeep,” Ron muttered in response. Even though Ron was no longer attracted to Hermione, it was still a common reaction for blokes to become transfixed by two pretty witches kissing.
After what seemed like an eternity, Su finally broke her kiss. With eyes shimmering with happiness, Su said to Hermione; “Thank you.”
She turned to Harry and repeated he expression of gratitude before trotting off to Zacharias who was standing in the entrance of the Great Hall. When Su reached the wizard, Zacharias gave Harry a “thumbs up” signal before the couple ran off into the castle.
“That was weird,” Hermione said aloud.
“Yeah… weird,” Harry muttered while trying to ignore the image of his girlfriend being kissed by another witch. This was a difficult image to ignore seeing how it was very entertaining and was etched into his brain. Also,/ ‘Harry, Jr.’ /was demanding that Hermione should kiss Luna now for more entertainment.
“Why did she do that?” Hermione asked.
“Hermione, did you enjoy that?” Luna inquired.
“What makes you ask?” the brunette witch returned.
“Your lips are quite puffy,” the blonde pointed out.
“Well… I have to admit she’s a good kisser,” Hermione responded with a saucy smile.
And that smile sent Harry over the edge. He grabbed his girlfriend’s hand and walked very briskly out of the Great Hall.
“You’re really eager to get this Horcrux, aren’t you,” Hermione commented as Harry half dragged her.
“What Horcrux?” asked Harry as he led Hermione into a nearby broom closet.
What followed next was an evolved sort of “quickie”. The couple didn’t even undress fully; all Harry did was open his trousers and lowered Hermione’s knickers enough to allow him access to her flower. You see, the standard “quickie” only consist of rapid intercourse and usually doesn’t allow such niceties as “foreplay” or the mood-killing “talking.” But Harry wasn’t inconsiderate to his girlfriend’s feelings; he was thoughtful enough to go down on Hermione for a bit before leaning her against the wall and shagging her rotten.
A few minutes later, the satisfied (and tousled) pair of Harry and Hermione came staggering out of the closet to find a satisfied (and tousled) looking Luna and Ron waiting for them. Clearly, Ron and Luna had copied Harry and Hermione’s actions.
“You should kiss girls more often, Hermione,” Luna suggested. “The boys seem to like it.”
Serendipitously, both Ron and Harry began to push their respective lovers toward each other, silently urging them to kiss. It was as if both wizards had subconsciously thought that when Luna suggested that Hermione should kiss witches more often what she really meant to say was “I’d like to kiss you, Hermione.”
“Harry James Potter, we have more important things to do,” Hermione scolded.
/’More important than seeing two witches snog?’ /his mind asked silently.
“We have to go destroy Voldemort’s Horcrux,” Hermione said.
“Fine,” Harry grumbled.
*
The four friends took the Knight Bus to London and the orphanage where Tom was raised. The moment they got off the bus, Luna and Hermione began waving their wands in intricate motions. Each witch was performing various detection charms in order to locate the hidden entrance and any wards or traps.
A few minutes later, they found the entrance on the north side of the building, hidden behind several concealing charms. Thanks to the witches various charms, they discovered that someone needed to sacrifice a bit of blood to gain entrance – much like Dumbledore had done at the cave.
Harry conjured a simple knife and cut a small gash in his left palm. He smeared his blood on the bricks and a doorway suddenly appeared in front of them. A loud creaking noise emanated from the door’s hinges as it slowly opened on its own.
Cautiously, the four friends entered the dark doorway. Their only light was from the light spilling in from the out side and Ron and Harry’s wand tips. Luna and Hermione waved their wands as they walked down the dark corridor, checking for traps.
“Hold up,” Hermione announced and everyone stopped moving. “There’s something here,” she said and pointed at the floor a few feet in front of the group.
The two witches worked in tandem as they waved and spun their wands at the floor.
“It’s a tripping jinx,” Luna stated and a yellow line appeared on the floor. Obviously, the line marked where the jinx was located.
“A tripping jinx,” Ron said dubiously. “I thought it would be something dangerous.”
“Actually it is very dangerous,” Hermione added as she waved her wand once more. The floor just beyond the yellow line shimmered for a second before disappearing. A six foot wide section had been cut into the ground creating a pit. Harry could see some very large and nasty spikes jutting up from the floor. It was clear that if they had walked down the corridor and had not noticed the tripping jinx, they would have fallen into the pit and impaled themselves on the spikes. Even the Shields around them would not have protected them.
Hermione perform an anti-tripping charm on the yellow line to cancel out the jinx while Harry conjured a wide plank across the pit. The raven haired wizard stepped on the plank and led the way over the pit. Once all four friends were on the other side, they came to a door.
The witches began waving their wand once more. Every once in a while, one of them would announce that they had found a trap and then disable it. At one point, Hermione found a nasty hex called/ “The Flesh Melter”. /She had to consult one of the books she had brought along before she could successfully disable the trap. All in all, Luna and Hermione had to deal with seven traps and wards placed on the door.
After the wards and traps had been disabled, Harry opened the door to reveal a long stairway that led down into the ground. As the foursome (no, not that type of foursome – there will be no partner swapping in this story so don’t get your hopes up) traveled down the stairs, the witches busied themselves by constantly checking for traps.
After walking down for a few minutes, Luna asked “I am curious Harry, why didn’t the Headmaster show you how to detect wards or traps when you two went to that cave? I understand that you had private lessons with him all year long. Why didn’t he teach you anything about such things?””
“Because he was too busy showing me home movies,” he snapped bitterly. “All I learned was that Voldemort liked to collect things. I didn’t find out how he made the Horcruxes or any clues as to where he might’ve hid them, but I do know ol’ Tom’s a pack rat.
“The one thing that bothered me most of all was the Pensieve memory of Voldemort’s mum,” Harry continued on his rant. “Did the fact that she was some sort of emo kid have an impact on Voldemort’s life? Was the reason Voldemort was evil because his mom was abused by her father and she ensnared Tom Sr. No; she died a few minutes after he was born so he had no idea how horrible his family was until after he met. But he was already an evil bastard because he had killed Myrtle by that point. What was the point of making me sit through that silly memory? Dumbledore told me it was because Merope had given up on life and therefore Voldemort turned evil. How does that make sense, he was less than an hour old for pity’s sake. She said /’Name him Tom’ /and then died! For all Voldemort knew, she could’ve died crossing the street to get him milk.”
“I might have some input on that, Harry,” Luna began. “As I have said before, Ronald told me about the prophesy concerning you and He Who Must Not Be Named and I think that particular Pensieve memory has some insight on it. You see, Merope, the mother, lusted after Tom, the father; she was not truly in love with him. She saw him as a rich man who could take her away from her horrible life. It didn’t hurt that Tom was easy on the eyes. So she used a potion or an Unforgivable to bewitch Tom into believing he was in love with her, which was a lie. Therefore, when You Know Who was conceived, it was done so out of lust and lies – literally. So even in conception, You Know Who did not know love, the power you have Harry, and the power he knows not.”
“Oh,” Harry muttered as understanding settled in. “I never thought about that.”
“Why the hell didn’t Dumbledore think of that?” Hermione griped.
“Um guys, this is fascinating, but I think I heard a hissing sound,” Ron announced with a bit of fear in his voice.
Everyone became silent and Harry strained his ears. A moment later, a sound drifted up from the darkness.
“I am so-o-o bored. There’s nothing to do,” Harry heard a voice say.
“I hear hissing too,” Hermione whispered.
“It’s a snake,” Harry said. It was clear to him that it had to be a snake waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs because his friends had heard hissing while he heard a voice clearly.
“What kind of snake?” Ron gulped.
“Dunno,” Harry replied. “But I reckon that Voldemort put it here to guard the Horcrux, so it’s probably a nasty one. You three wait here.”
Harry continued a few feet further before activating his parsletongue abilities.
“Hello,” he said to the darkness.
“Who’s there?” the voice demanded.
“Um… your master,” Harry replied. He was hoping that he could fool the snake into believing that he was Voldemort.
“No you’re not,” the snake snapped. “My Master has a high, girly voice, you don’t.”
Thinking fast, Harry back-tracked, “Did I say I was your Master? I meant I was sent by your Master.”
“Really? Did you bring my virgins?”
“Ah, no… fresh out.”
“Damn, he promised me virgins,” the snake pouted.
“If you don’t mind me asking, what kind of snake are you?” Harry asked. He was hoping that it wasn’t a Basilisk. But judging by his infernal luck, it would be.
“What kind? I’m a bored one, I am,” the snake moaned. “I’ve been down here doing nothing besides eating rats. I want to nibble on a virgin… I was promised a virgin, damn it!”
Slowly and silently, Harry crept down the stairs. The snake continued to grumble and gripe and Harry drew closer and closer. Soon, he approached a massive cavern carved out of the rock. In the middle of the cavern was a table covered by a red cloth.
“All I want is one lousy virgin,” the snake complained from the shadows surrounding the table.
Even though the monster was cloaked in shadows, Harry could tell that it was easily twenty feet long and it had a bright red plume sticking out of its head. As silently as he could, Harry turned around and trotted back up the stairs.
“Is it a Basilisk?” Hermione asked.
“Yes,” he answered. It was significantly smaller than the last one he had faced, but he was positive that it was the dreaded Basilisk.
“So what? Harry’s killed one and he was only twelve,” Ron stated.
“Ron, it was luck. And if Fawkes wasn’t there with his healing tear drops, I would’ve died,” Harry pointed out. “I’m not pressing my luck again, especially since I don’t have a phoenix handy.”
“We can drive it off,” Hermione suggested. “It’s afraid of roosters; their crow can kill them. If we make it believe there is a rooster here, it might run away.”
“We can’t just let it get away,” Harry stated. “It’s too dangerous to let live.”
“He’s right,” Luna agreed.
“Well then we’ll just have to kill it,” Hermione concluded. “We distract it by making it think there’s a rooster here and while it’s trying to get away, we hit it with a few Blasting Hexes.”
“Good plan,” Harry said as he drew his wand.
“All right, Ron start clucking,” ordered Hermione.
“What?” the red haired wizard shot back. “Why don’t you do it?”
“I’m a girl not a boy. A rooster is a male chicken, I can’t make male chicken sounds,” she argued.
“Then why doesn’t Harry do it?” Ron asked.
“He’s a parslemouth, we need him to listen to the Basilisk to see if the monster buys it so we can sneak up on it,” Hermione pointed out. “We can’t do that if he’s clucking.”
Ron frowned before acquiescing. “Fine, I’ll do it.”
The red haired wizard began making soft clucking sounds.
“Louder, Ronald, it can’t hear you,” Luna urged. Ron added a little more volume to his efforts. “Louder Ronald, louder.”
Egged on by his wife, Ron let out a very loud crow.
“That’s it!” Luna cheered with a chuckle and a rosy bloom to her face. “Again! Again!”
As Ron continued to cluck, Harry turned to Hermione and asked; “You really don’t think the basilisk could tell the difference between you and Ron clucking, do you?”
“No,” Hermione admitted. “I just wanted to see Ron act like a chicken.”
“Ronald, flap your arms like wings! I’m sure it will help you sound more convincing!” Luna passionately suggested. Ron rolled his eyes before complying. Luna giggled and Harry knew that she too had wanted to see Ron cluck like a chicken.
Slowly, the four friends made their way to the cavern. As they got nearer, Ron became more impassioned and louder. It was as if he was truly getting into the role.
Ron let out a loud crow and Harry heard the snake exclaim: “Holy shit! Is that a rooster?”
“Yes it is,” Harry replied using his parseltongue. “It must’ve gotten in when I opened the door. Sorry about that.”
The basilisk let out a startled yelp and Harry could hear it slither away.
“Bloody hell, I’m out of here,” the snaked said in a panicky tone. “Screw my Master; first he won’t give me a virgin and now a freaking rooster comes strolling in.”
Cautiously, Harry peaked into the cavern and saw the giant snake had its head wedged into a small hole; it was trying to squeeze itself into that hole in an attempt to escape. Harry gave the signal that it was safe to enter the cavern. As Ron continued to cluck, Luna, Hermione, and Harry circled around the snake’s body. The three leveled their wands at the snake and shouted the incantation for the Blasting Hex.
In retrospect, Harry realized that it was a bit of overkill – literally – having the three of them blast the monster. The job could’ve been easily accomplished by either him or Hermione alone thanks to their power boost. Not only did both Harry and his girlfriend hit the monster with super charged Blasting Hexes, but Luna had hit it with her own normal hex. The giant monster was blown into a fine mist… a mist made entirely of blood and magical monster bits. The gore rained down on our heroes; coating their robes, hair and exposed skin.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Hermione murmured. Even though Harry couldn’t see the color of her skin thanks to the thick layer of blood, he reckoned that her complexion was a sickly green.
“I wonder if this Basilisk blood is as good of a moisturizer as Ronald’s semina-” Luna began. The blonde witch was interrupted by Hermione retching out the contents of her stomach on the floor. Apparently, the mention of Ron’s spunk had sent the brunette witch over the edge.
Being a good boyfriend, Harry knelt down next to Hermione – who had fallen to her knees – and held her hair back as she continued to vomit. Although he did wonder why he bothered; it’s not like Hermione’s vomit would have made her hair a worse state thanks to the goo that was basilisk in it. Once she was finished, Harry waved his wand and magically cleaned the blood off of everyone.
With a quiver in her voice, Hermione said, “Let’s get this over with so I can take a nice hot bath.”
Luna and Hermione began to wave their wands once more. After a few moments, Hermione stated: “There’s no traps. Apparently, Voldemort thought the Basilisk was enough protection.”
Harry nodded his head and approached the table. When he was four feet away, giant trees popped out of thin air. There were dozens of yew trees formed in a tight circle around the table blocking Harry from his target.
“What the hell; I thought you said there wasn’t any traps?” Ron asked as he eyed the trees.
Hermione waved her wand and said “There isn’t. In fact, I’m not detecting the trees at all; as if they aren’t there.”
“How can that be?” Harry asked as he reached out and touched the rough bark of one of the trees.
“Perhaps they are nothing more than an illusion,” Luna offered. Before explaining herself, Luna walked toward the tree and did not stop when she came close. She proceeded to walk through the trees as if they weren’t there.
“Luna?” Ron shouted in confusion and fear after his wife disappeared behind the trees.
The blonde witch’s head popped out of the tree, the rest of her body obscured by the foliage. “Just as I thought; a very complex Illusion Charm. It is so powerful that your mind actually thinks it is touching something when you run your hand across it.”
“Well, how do we get past it like you did?” Harry asked.
“Don’t listen to your mind,” she offered and she disappeared behind the trees once more.
“Oh, that’s helpful,” Hermione groaned. /”‘… don’t listen to your mind…’ /Thanks for that.”
“I think she means that we have to realize that the trees aren’t real,” Harry sounded. “Recognize that they aren’t there and that belief will offset the illusion.”
Harry closed his eyes and imagined the cavern the way it was before the trees sprang up. Slowly, Harry blindly walked to the table. His body tingled slightly as he passed through where the rings of trees were. When he opened his eyes, Harry found Luna standing next to the red draped table smiling.
“Hermione, it worked,” Harry called out. A moment later, Hermione came through the trees.
“That was weird,” the brunette witch said off handedly.
“Okay, here I come,” Harry heard Ron say. A second later, a thud sounded. “Ow, that hurt,” Ron shouted.
Clearly, Ron had failed to counteract the illusion and walked directly into the trees with a painful effect.
“Ron, you have to realize that the trees aren’t there,” ordered Hermione.
“That’s what I did,” he replied bitterly.
“Try harder, my love,” Luna said dreamily.
“How the hell am I supposed to try harder?”
“Try imagining that not only that these trees don’t exist, but all trees,” offered Luna. “Pretend there is no such thing as trees; they don’t exist.”
Harry heard Ron begin to fervently chant “I don’t believe in trees. I don’t believe in trees. I don’t believe in trees.”
A few moments later, Ron walked through the illusionary trees. Harry turned back to the table and grabbed the red cloth.
“Let’s get this over with,” he said and tugged the fabric off of the table.
Placed in the middle of the table was what appeared to be… something. A very small something, minuscule even. Whatever it was, it was no bigger than the pad of Harry’s thumb.
“What is that?” Hermione asked as she pointed at the tiny item.
“Oi, I know what that is!” Ron shouted out, snapping his fingers as if he recalled seeing a similar item. “That’s a wizard’s anvil!” Ron made this declaration as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Judging by the lion engraved on the side, I’d say it was Gryffindor’s anvil to be precise,” added Luna from her spot behind Harry.
“Lion? How the hell can you see that?” Harry asked as he bent over to get a closer look. On one side of the so-called anvil were a few scratches. He strained his eyes even further and saw that the scratches could be interpreted as a drawing of a lion. “How’d you see that?”
Luna silently responded by simply pointing at her large and protruding blue eyes and stating, “How I see everything; with my eyes, silly.”
“That’s not an anvil,” Hermione argued. “Anvils are large and … bulky and … and obvious things.”
“Why would an anvil need to be large?” Ron inquired.
“Because a blacksmith uses it to fold and form metal items by striking hot metal on it with a hammer,” Hermione explained.
“Oh, I see, you’re thinking of a Muggle anvil,” Luna said. “This is a wizard’s anvil.”
“I’ve always thought that an anvil is a pretty stupid thing,” Ron added. “I mean, they’re so useless that most people don’t remember them. Heck, even if a family has theirs on display, most people either don’t see them or intentionally ignore them. The whole idea of an anvil is stupid, if you think about it. Why would a wizard need one?”
“Well, what about in a forge or something?” Hermione thought aloud. “Wouldn’t Gryffindor have needed one to create his sword, or at least to repair it?”
“Why?” Ron quickly countered. “He was a wizard, wasn’t he? He would’ve just used the appropriate spells. Heck, even we’ve learned how to turn one item into another. So why would one of the world’s most powerful wizards use a Muggle method? He wouldn’t; he’d just create the sword and then add a self-sharpening spell to it.”
“But if a wizard didn’t need an anvil to work metal, why have one at all?” Harry asked.
“It’s for show,” Ron explained. “It’s usually a family heirloom that’s passed down from generation to generation. Heck, even we have one back home, from mum’s side. It sits on the mantle above the fireplace.”
“Wait, I’ve been to your place a load of times and I’ve never seen any anvil,” Harry said.
“No wonder, it’s only a little larger than this one,” Ron said as he pointed to Gryffindor’s anvil. “Don’t worry about it, Mate, no one pays attention to anvils in the magical world, they’re small, insignificant and meaningless.”
“You’re right, Ron,” Hermione stated. “I guess the idea of an anvil in the wizarding world is downright inane.”
“Yeah,” Harry agreed, shrugging his shoulders. Sometimes, the magical world made no sense at all. He wondered why anyone would want something like this anvil; it was too small to even notice. “It seems to me that only an idiot would’ve looked for an anvil,” he decided.
Pushing his ponderings to the side, Harry drew out his sword and swung at the anvil… and missed. He swung the blade again and still missed the target. The anvil was so small and insignificant, that Harry, even with his excellent eye-hand coordination, had trouble hitting it. Finally, Harry was able to cleave the Lilliputian anvil in two, easily destroying the Horcrux.
The four friends turned and made their way out of the cavern. As they walked up the stairs, they discussed the other Horcruxes.
“So that leaves two more besides You Know Who,” Luna said.
“Yes, we know that one, the locket, is in the possession of Zardoz,” Hermione stated. “But we still don’t know where the last Horcrux is.”
“Well, maybe you two can do that hand-job ritual again,” Ron offered to Harry and Hermione. Harry leapt at the idea of doing that activity again – for any reason.
“For some reason, we only see blackness when we do it,” explained Hermione.
Harry remained silent, lost in his thoughts. The nagging feeling that wherever the last Horcrux was located was familiar in some way weighed heavy in his mind.
“And then we have to find a way to get Voldemort, too,” added Hermione. “Even if somehow we miraculously find out where the missing Horcrux is, we can’t just walk up to Voldemort’s castle and ask him to come out so we can kill him, can we?”
“We’ll hurdle that obstacle when we get to it,” Harry said as he led his friends over the plank suspended over the pit of spikes and out of the dark corridor. Over his shoulder, Harry saw the door magically disappear, as if the door never existed.
“I’m hungry,” announced Ron as the group walked onto the street outside the orphanage.
“How can you possibly be hungry, Ron?” asked Hermione. “We had breakfast less than three hours ago.”
“Well, we just successfully destroyed a Horcrux,” Ron defended. “That took a lot of energy.”
“All you did was cluck like a chicken, for pity’s sake,” Hermione expounded. “Luna, Harry, and I did all the actual work.”
“Hermione must I remind you? Even though Ronald only pretended to be a chicken,” Luna began and added to Ron “And a wonderful chicken at that,” before turning back to Hermione, “before we went on our little trek, Ronald and I had sex.” Once again, the blonde witch turned to her husband and added, “Wonderful sex at that.”
“Actually, I’m kind of hungry myself,” Harry stated as his stomach growled.
“I smell fish and chips,” Ron said as he sniffed the air. “Over there!” the red haired wizard said and pointed down the street.
Sure enough, past the crowd of Muggles walking on the sidewalks was a fish and chips stand.
“All right fine, we’ll grab a snack,” Hermione assented.
The four friends began walking down the street when Harry saw someone exit the crowd of people ahead of them. Something in the pit of his stomach told Harry that he should hide. Listening to his instinct, Harry pushed his friends into a shadowy alcove.
“Harry, what-” Hermione began.
“Hush,” Harry ordered.
The man’s black robes billowed out behind him as he walked briskly. He continuously looked around him; trying to see if anyone was following him. His large hooked nose gave him the appearance of a bird of prey. Thankfully, the shadows concealed Harry and his friends from the approaching man’s vision.
Harry watched silently from the shadows. The person walked down the other side of the street and slowly came into view. Harry heard both Luna and Hermione gasp and he felt Ron tense up.
“Snape,” Harry hissed.
To Be Continued

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Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor
Chapter Nineteen: It’s So Very Hard Being Sorry.
Disclaimer: Not mine, I own nothing. I’m not making any money
WARNING: Harsh Language, adult themes, sexual situations (i.e. smut), bad spelling and grammar.
Author’s Notes: This story is a broad farce with over the top humor (a good deal of it is crude and sexual) and OOC actions (that’s Out Of Character if you don’t know). Also, this is my first smut-ish fic. If you don’t like sex and sex-based humor, do NOT read this!
Chapter Nineteen Summary: Harry and Hermione fight while Ron gets the point.
You Know Who Sends Minister Biscuit Bouquet of DEATH!
Special Report by Sarah Chambers for the Daily Prophet.
The body of Rufus Scrimgeour, Minister of Magic, was found in his office early this morning by the cleaning crew.
The Magical Law Enforcement has not released an official statement yet, but inside sources tells this reporter that the Minister received a gift from an anonymous citizen late yesterday.
“It looked like a bunch of harmless biscuits in a wicker basket,” my source told me. “I gave one of them to the misses last year.”
But alas, it wasn’t harmless. Either He Who Must Not Be Named or one of his followers charmed the biscuits to be implements of a heinous murder! The tiny chocolate chip filled treats were bewitched to fly and cram themselves into the Minister’s nose and mouth totally blocking the victim’s air passages.
“Oh, it was ‘orrible,” Festus Montgomery, the janitor who found Scrimgeour’s body, said sadly. “He ‘ad two biscuits in each nostril and a couple dozen jammed in his gob.”
With his airway blocked by biscuits, the Minister slowly suffocated in a horrible chocolaty and crispy manner.
The interim Minister is S. Pippin. Until yesterday, Miss Pippin was the Under-Secretary in charge of Wizard-Goblin relations. An emergency session of the Wizengamot will commence later this afternoon to elect a new Minister. Interim-Minister Pippin hopes to sway the Wizengamot in hopes of making her new position permanent.
As to the motive to Minister Scrimgeour’s killing, there is talk in the halls of the Ministry that he was targeted in retaliation for the recent raids against suspected Death Eaters. A number of previously unknown Death Eaters were taken into custody when they were named by Hogwarts student turned Death Eater, Draco Malfoy. Malfoy could not be reached for comments as he is still recovering at St. Mungo’s. Mr. Malfoy’s injuries are said to have occurred while practicing what is commonly known as “rough sex” with his rumored life-partner, Harry Potter.
*
Harry was not in a jolly mood. To be more accurate, one would call his mood “angry” or even “pissed off.” It wasn’t just the news of Scrimgeour’s assassination that brought him down so much. Nor the more troubling fact that the Daily Prophet was still convinced that he and Draco were gay lovers. No, his mood came from the fact that Hermione hadn’t touched him in days. Yes, Harry was upset that Voldemort had struck such a blow. However Harry hadn’t gotten any play since his hint at suggesting a three way.
Hermione was being very cool toward Harry. For two full days after he made the typical male mistake of actually speaking what was on his mind, Hermione made it a point not to stay in the same room as Harry. And as if she didn’t think Harry was getting the hint that she was ignoring him, on the third day Hermione started to make it obvious by sitting opposite of him during meals but refusing to look in his direction or even acknowledge his presence.
A number of house-elves took a great amount of joy in Harry’s suffering. Apparently it was big news with the house-elves that the Great One and the One of the Mark were on the outs. The tiny creatures would laugh at Harry while making obscene gestures at him. Sometimes, Harry could even hear them sing in the kitchen as he walked by:
“The One of the Mark don’t be getting any!
Soon his nuts do be shriveling!
Which makes we’s all happies!’
The One of the Mark don’t be getting any!”
/It wasn’t hard to believe, but /’Harry, Jr.’ was taking this dry spell worse than Harry was. The organ sulked about all day long and would often take its frustration out on its luggage. It wasn’t long before ‘Harry, Jr.’s baggage turned an interesting shade of puce. Harry tried to alleviate his discomfort with his own hand, but ‘Harry, Jr.’ would have none of it. Whenever Harry would try to wank off, the organ refused to play. As if it was saying that it wouldn’t play with anyone but Hermione.
Over a week after the “three-way faux pas” incident, Harry was in a sour mood and sitting alone in the Common Room. Hermione was in the library studying while Ron and Luna were in his room having sex. Harry took offence at Ron and Luna’s actions; they were mocking the fact that he hadn’t had sex in days whereas they would seemingly only take breaks for a snack before going at it again.
A startled and painful scream emanated from Harry and Ron’s room. Harry grabbed his wand and dashed up the stairs to find a naked Ron staggering out into the hall while clutching his bottom.
“Ron, what’s wrong?” demanded Harry as he desperately tried to not look at Ron below his shoulders. “Are you hurt?”
“Yes I am,” snapped Ron. “Bloody hell!”
“Is Luna okay?”
“Oh, she’s fine,” Ron said bitterly. “She’s the one who hurt me.”
“What happened?” Harry demanded. He was irritated that Ron wasn’t answering him directly… that and Harry was upset over seeing Ron naked… again.
“Well, Luna was… /you know/… while I was on my back…” Ron began. It was clear that he was very upset and deeply embarrassed.
“Riding you?” Harry asked for clarification. Ron’s description of “you know” wasn’t very enlightening. As Harry knew from experience, there were a number of things one can do on one’s back.
“She was blowing me, okay!” snapped Ron. “Anyway, she stopped and she started talking. I don’t know what she was saying because I wasn’t paying too much attention to what she was saying, you know what I mean.”
Harry did in fact know what Ron meant this time. When Hermione pleasured Harry, he never paid too much attention to anything else.
“But I thought she was talking to someone,” Ron continued while still clutching his bum. “Then I heard her say something like ‘are you sure he’ll like it?’ Then the next thing I know… she…she… it hurt!”
“What did she do?” Harry asked. He was wondering if she had accidentally hexed him. Or perhaps she used her teeth. But that wouldn’t explain why Ron was holding onto his naked backside.
“Ron, what the hell did she do?” Harry repeated when the red haired wizard hesitated to answer.
“It was that bloody ghost again!” Ron blurted out.
“What ghost?” Harry asked. But the sick and worried expression on Ron’s face told Harry the answer. “Gryffindor!”
“He told her to… do something to me.” Ron said vaguely.
It slowly dawned upon Harry. He recalled the time Gryffindor watched and critiqued Harry’s cunnilingus and Hermione’s fellatio and how the perverted old ghost suggested that Hermione should stick her finger into Harry’s bum while she blew him. It was clear that Gryffindor had given Luna this same advice and, unlike Hermione, she had followed through.
“Ow,” Harry mutter sympathetically.
“‘/Ow//’/ he says,” Ron grumbled. “You weren’t the one who got a finger stabbed in his hole.”
Grumbling about how “the mood” was ruined, Ron sulked off to the showers. A giggle sounded from the room Ron just exited.
“Hermione does get quiet wet doesn’t she?” Luna commented happily.
Harry opened the door to find Luna, with a bed sheet wrapped around her like a improvised toga, sitting across from the ghost of Gryffindor. While Luna was being polite and looking Gryffindor in the eye, the ghost was staring directly into the blonde witch’s ample cleavage.
“That boy has one powerful tongue,” Gryffindor speculated. “Maybe you should have him give a go on you.”
“Oh, no, I’d never do that,” Luna said calmly as if it was a normal occurrence for a ghost of a Hogwarts’ founder to suggest that she should cheat on her husband. “Besides, I’ve asked Harry to give Ronald tips on cunnilingus.”
“Maybe they would let Ron… and me… watch Harry work?” Gryffindor said hopefully.
“I could join in and observe as well,” Luna added dreamily. “It would be wonderful to learn something new. I am a Ravenclaw after all and I do so love to learn new things!”
“Great!” exclaimed Gryffindor. “And if the boy gets tired, you can hop in and finish Hermione off.”
Luna responded by giving the ghost a disapproving eye. Seeing that Gryffindor was blatantly looking down her ample cleavage, he didn’t see this look.
“I take it you got bored with Mrs. Black?” Harry asked and finally announced his presence.
“Goodness no, boy,” the ghost exclaimed. “I tired her out.”
“How the hell do you tire out a magical painting?” Harry asked and immediately regretted the question because Gryffindor replied by giving Harry a rather rude gesture with his tongue and two fingers.
“Harry, Godric brought up a good point,” Luna stated.
Harry was stunned, Luna was agreeing with Gryffindor!
“Which point was that, love?” the ghost asked. “Was it about the bum-plug, gurgling, hammock, or watching?”
Apparently while Ron and Harry had been talking outside the room, Luna and Gryffindor had been discussing a number of things.
“The watching,” Luna said dreamily.
“LUNA!” Harry ejaculated in surprise… not that way you dirty minded pervs.
/ /”Harry, you are obviously very good at pleasuring Hermione with your tongue,” Luna explained. “From what Hermione and I have discussed, a portion of your art lies in your technique, not just your Parselmouth abilities. And Ronald would be too embarrassed to talk to you about such techniques.”
“But he would be less embarrassed if he watched me eat out Hermione?” Harry asked in shock.
“I could give him the proper motivation,” explained Luna. “The reason wouldn’t be out of pure perversion if Ronald and I watch; our relationship would benefit from what we learned.”
“You noticed she said it wouldn’t be /’pure perversion’/,” Gryffindor commented. “That means a part of her would like to watch.”
“Yes, Harry and Hermione make an attractive couple,” admitted Luna. “However, my main interest is that Ronald is a visual learner; if he watches you perform cunnilingus, he may be able to use the techniques on me.”
Harry was completely stunned. He stood in the doorway with his mouth opening and closing like a fish. Luna was requesting a show! She tried to sugar coat it, but as Gryffindor pointed out, she still wanted to watch Harry eat out Hermione!
“Think about it, won’t you?” requested Luna as she stood up and walked to Harry. The blonde witch placed a friendly kiss on Harry’s cheek before adding, “Who knows, maybe Ronald and I will return the favor and you two can watch us?”
Harry was completely flummoxed; not only had Luna wanted to watch Harry and Hermione, but she offered to return the favor! Luna strolled out of the room and headed to the shower.
“Excuse me, but I have to go make up with my husband,” Luna said and disappeared into the bathroom.
“I like her!” Gryffindor offered. “She’s got moxie!”
“Just sod off you pervert!” snapped Harry.
“My, aren’t our knickers in a bunch,” the ghost mocked. “What’s your problem, not getting enough tail?”
Harry stared daggers at Gryffindor.
“Oh ho!” Gryffindor chuckled. “Hermione’s holding out on you!”
“Shut it!” Harry snarled.
“What did you do to piss her off?”
“Leave me alone!”
“Did you try knocking on the back door?” the ghost persisted and Harry did his best to ignore him. Perhaps, that way Gryffindor would grow bored and leave. “Did you bring up a threesome?”
“SHUT THE BLOODY HELL UP!”
“Harry, Harry, Harry,” the spirit said solemnly while shaking his head. “You can’t just go up to your witch and say ‘How about a threesome!’ You have to ease her into the idea.”
“Sod off,” Harry said under his breath.
“You have to start out subtly,” Gryffindor continued. “Let’s set up a little scenario, why don’t we?”
“Let’s not,” Harry muttered and walked out of the room. Unfortunately, the ghost followed Harry into the Common Room.
“For example, Luna is sitting on the other side of the room. You should whisper small things in Hermione’s ear like, ‘Isn’t Luna pretty in that dress?’ or ‘I prefer Luna’s hair up, don’t you?’ That way you get a feel if Hermione is attracted to Luna…”
“JUST SHUT UP!” Harry shouted. “IT WAS A MISTAKE, OKAY! I REALLY DON”T WANT TO SHARE HERMIONE, EVEN WITH ANOTHER WITCH! I SAID SOMETHING STUPID IN THE HEAT OF THE MOMENT!”
Harry stormed out of the Common Room and into the hall. He slammed the portrait closed but he could still hear Gryffindor shout, “What if the other witch is really hot?”
As he stomped out of the castle, Harry pondered over his mistake. He didn’t really want to bring another witch into bed. In all honesty, it would be very awkward before, during, and after the act at best. Would Hermione have been jealous if he spent too much time on the other witch? Conversely, would she be irate if he didn’t focus on their guest more than her because doing so would be rude and improper? Also, Harry’s performance would be put to the test. With Hermione and another witch there would be four breasts and two vaginas and only one ‘Harry, Jr.’. That’s a lot of pressure for a bloke.
It was a stupid teenaged fantasy that Harry regretted voicing. For the rest of the day, Harry felt horrible. Guilt ate at his stomach until the bile crept up and burned his throat. He actually got physically ill because of his guilt. And Harry didn’t even try to sleep. It would’ve been pointless to do so. His sleep would have been marred by a nightmare of a woman with too many breasts and an enormous vagina.
When he had returned to the Common Room, he saw Hermione begin to head up to her room. She looked at him contemptuously before she disappeared from view, which just made Harry feel even more pathetic and hurt.
*
The next morning, Harry was pleasantly surprised to have Hermione cuddle up to him on the couch.
“I heard what you said to… or yelled at… Gryffindor yesterday,” Hermione informed him. “I’ll glad you realized it was a mistake.”
She showed Harry just how glad she was by kissing him passionately. He cupped her face and relished her kiss. He had missed her touch so much over the past few days that he was starving for more.
When they broke apart, Hermione’s lips were swollen and her eyes were dark with lust. She bit her lip before saying huskily, “Let’s get out of these clothes and use that paddle I got from Courtney.”
The two lovers dashed up to his room and Hermione quickly opened his trunk and began rooting around in it. She pulled out his Invisibility Cloak and Marauders’ Map as she asked, “You put the toys in here, right?”
“Yeah, it’s under my robes,” he replied and began to toe off his shoes.
In a moment, Hermione withdrew the paddle and held it high like a precious treasure.
“My bottom is going to be so-o-o-o red!” she cheered happily.
As Harry started to unbuckle his belt, a thought occurred to him; “Um, Hermione,” he began.
“Yes, love?” Hermione replied while unbuttoning her blouse which appeared to be a little difficult since she was still clutching the paddle in one of her hands.
“You said you heard me yell at Gryffindor yesterday?” Harry asked.
“Yes, I was up in my room,” she informed him. “I took a couple of books from the Library up there to read.”
“But later, you walked by me and shot me a nasty look,” Harry pointed out.
“Well, yes,” she said sheepishly while loosening another button. “I thought you needed to suffer just a little bit longer.”
“WHAT?” Harry cried out. “I was miserable! I was worried sick. I actually threw up! And you thought I needed to suffer even more?”
“Harry, that was in the past,” Hermione said in a soft tone trying to calm Harry’s anger. “But right now, I’ve been naughty and I deserve a good spanking followed by a wicked shag, okay?”
To prove her point, Hermione brought the paddle down on her bottom. ‘Harry, Jr.’ was more than willing to let bygones be bygones. All the organ really cared about was play time with Hermione. But Harry himself was quite upset. Hermione had let him stew in his own self-pity even though she had forgiven him in order to make him suffer a little longer. He buckled his belt back up.
“What are you doing?” Hermione asked.
“I reckon that I’m going for a walk,” Harry said as he slipped on his shoes. ‘Harry, Jr.’ was protesting, the appendage wanted to play, damn it!
“But we haven’t had sex in eight days!” Hermione argued.
“I’m very mad right now,” Harry said slowly and turned to the door. As he walked out of the room, Hermione called out;
“You can take it out on my bum!” she cried out. “There’s even a paddle for Merlin’s sake!”
*
Harry normally didn’t hold a grudge, but Hermione had pushed his buttons too much. She had toyed with him and now he was paying her back. He was still angry that she had intentionally let him suffer. He ignored her much like she had done to him.
Mind you /’Harry, Jr.’ /did not like this at all. The organ voiced its complaints by strangling its baggage until they turned a nasty blue color. But Harry ignored the organ; he wanted Hermione to feel sorry for hurting him.
Hermione was a determined witch and she tried to sway Harry from his course. She first tried dropping hints in front of him by saying such things as/ “the dew is on the flower”/ and “I have an itch I can’t scratch.” After that failed, she resorted to less tactful hints like “Get over here, Harry, and shag me!” She even attempted to jump him while he was in the shower.
But Harry would have none of it. And he continued to ignore Hermione.
*
It was upon them; school was about to start.
McGonagall called Harry, Hermione, Ron and Luna into her office. It was very clear to Harry that the Headmistress was taken back by his and Hermione’s appearance. Both of them had a scowl etched on their faces and bags under their eyes. It had been some time since they had last touched each other and it was showing.
“Are you two okay?” McGonagall asked.
“Fine,” both Harry and Hermione replied. Well, Harry muttered a barely audible ‘Fine’ and Hermione bitterly snapped her response.
Pressing on, McGonagall explained, “I have created a Portkey to take the four of you to King’s Cross station.”
“Why?” asked Ron. “We’re already here. What’s the point of traveling to King’s Cross just to take a train back?”
“First of all, you are a Prefect and Harry and Hermione are the Head Boy and Head Girl. Therefore at least the three of you need to be present on the train,” McGonagall lectured. “Secondly, I feel that just the presence of the four of you on the train will make the other children feel comfortable. There still is a war on and if Mr. Potter is there, many people will feel safe.”
“Will the Express be attacked, ma’am?” Luna asked.
“I doubt it,” answered McGonagall. “The train has a number of charms and wards around it. But I think that Mr. Potter’s mere presence will have a calming effect on many people.”
“When do we leave?” Harry asked in a pathetic way. On one hand; his balls were aching so much that he was considering giving up on his quest to make Hermione suffer. But on the other hand, Harry was an obstinate little bugger and he wanted Hermione to pay.
“Right now,” McGonagall said and pointed to a length of rope lying on the desk in front of her.
Harry saw Hermione look at Luna before the brunette witch requested “Can you give us fifteen minutes? Luna and I have to fetch something.”
“We do?” Luna asked Hermione.
“Yes we do,” Hermione said knowingly.
“Make it quick,” McGonagall stated. Hermione grabbed Luna’s hand and dashed out of the office.
In a few minutes, the two witches were running back into the office.
“Are we all set now?” McGonagall asked and Hermione nodded her head. “Very well, here are the things you and Harry need to discuss with the other Prefects on the train.” The Headmistress completed this statement by handing Hermione some parchment.
After Hermione tucked the parchment in her robes, the four teens touched the Portkey and landed at King’s Cross.
Over the next hour, students and their families wandered in. Harry noticed that the station wasn’t nearly as full as it had been in the past. He remembered that McGonagall had anticipated that less than half the student body would be returning. By the looks of it, Harry guessed that McGonagall was overestimating a good deal.
A minute before the train was due to depart, Molly and Ginny came scrambling out of the hidden entrance to Platform 9 3/4.
“How is it that with only one kid, you still manage to be late?” Ron asked his mother.
“Oh hush, Ron. Help your sister on board,” Molly retorted. The Weasley matriarch turned to Luna and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Hello Luna, how are you, dear?”
“I’m fine, mother,” Luna replied. Molly glowed when Luna called her /’mother’/.
“Now keep Ron in line this year and make sure he studies,” Molly told her daughter-in-law. It was clear to Harry that Molly had gotten over her anger at Ron and Luna and had finally accepted Luna.
“I will, mother,” Luna kissed Molly on the cheek and climbed onto the train.
“You two behave this year,” Molly told Harry and Hermione as they too boarded the train.
Once they got on, Luna walked up to Hermione and said, “I’ll be in compartment six.”
“Thanks Luna,” Hermione said and led Harry and Ron to the Heads’ Compartment. In a few minutes, Harry and Hermione were scheduled to begin the Prefect meeting.
Before they reached the Heads’ Compartment though, Hermione stopped in her tracks.
“Oh, I almost forgot something,” Hermione announced. “I’ll be right back.”
The brunette witch turned and ran back the way they had just come from.
“You two still fighting?” Ron asked as they continued to the Heads’ Compartment.
“Yeah,” Harry replied.
“Hey you two,” Ginny said after sticking her head out of her compartment. “Have you seen Neville?”
“I think he is near the end of the train,” Harry informed her and pointed down the hall.
“Thanks,” Ginny said with a smile and started to head in the direction Harry pointed to.
“Wait a tic,” Ron commanded. “Why the hell do you want to know where Neville is?”
“None of your business,” Ginny shot back.
“The hell it is,” Ron countered. “I’m your brother.”
“I’m a big witch Ron. I can do whatever I want.”
“Well what is it that you want to do with Neville?”
“Like I said; none of your business.”
As the siblings argued, Harry felt something brush past him. He turned to see what it was but he saw nothing.
After a moment, Ron gave up and moved on to the Head Compartment.
The Head Compartment was a set up like a meeting room. A desk was at the back of the room and a few rows of seats were placed in front of it. A tablecloth with the Hogwarts’ seal covered the desk.
“I see you found it okay,” Hermione commented distractedly as she entered the compartment.
Harry was taken back at Hermione’s appearance. When she had left him just a few seconds ago, she was looking haggard and worn out. But now she looked well rested and relaxed.
“Are you okay, Hermione?” asked Harry.
“Of course I am, Harry,” Hermione responded with a song to her tone.
She walked to the table and was about to take the left seat when she stopped and looked at something under the table. Hermione then proceeded to abandon the left chair and took the right seat.
“Sit here, Harry,” she said and pointed to the chair that she had almost taken.
Harry took the seat and asked once more, “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yes I am,” Hermione responded after blinking very slowly. “It is very nice of you to be concerned.”
In a few moments, the Prefects from all years and houses strolled into the compartment. Harry noticed that a number of Slytherin Prefects had not returned. After all the Prefects had been seated, Harry turned to Hermione. The brunette witch returned Harry’s look.
“Yes Harry?” she asked while she stared at him with her eyes wide.
“Um, McGonagall gave you the list of things to talk about,” Harry pointed out.
“She did?” Hermione asked.
Harry was taken back. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve sworn that Hermione was on drugs she was acting so strangly.
“Yes, you put it in your robe pocket,” Harry reminded her.
A rustling sound came from somewhere near Harry’s feet. A second later, Hermione reached under the table and withdrew the parchment. It was obvious to Harry that she did not retrieve the paper from her robes but from somewhere underneath the table. As if someone had handed it to her. But before he could inquire as to what was going on, Hermione began the meeting.
“Very good, let’s begin,” Hermione stated in a sing-song voice. “First; as you’ve probably noticed, a number of students have decided not to return this year…”
As Hermione talked, Harry felt something tug at his zipper. He was about to recoil away from the table and hex whatever it was that pulled on his zipper when a scrap piece of paper was placed in his hand. Harry read the note written in Hermione’s handwriting on the paper.
“Luna is using Polyjuice to look like me.”
/ /Harry turned to Hermione to ask her what was going on. Before he could voice his question the brunette witch sitting next to him stopped reading and blinked very slowly before saying “Hello, Harry” as if she had just met him.
Then it dawned on him. The note said that Luna was using Polyjuice to look like Hermione! It wasn’t Hermione sitting next to him reading McGonagall’s note; it was Luna disguised as Hermione. That would explain Hermione’s dreamy and distracted tone.
Harry looked down at his lap and saw Hermione’s disembodied hands working on his zipper. Hermione was obviously hiding under his Invisibility Cloak and sitting under the table. In a few seconds, Hermione’s hands had freed ‘Harry, Jr.’
“Since there aren’t as many students this year doesn’t mean we, as Prefects, have an easy job,” Luna continued to read.
Hermione’s mouth appeared out of thin air and she engulfed Harry’s penis. The raven haired wizard gasped as Hermione worked her mouth and tongue on his flaccid organ. Mind you, it wasn’t limp for long. ‘Harry, Jr.’ got so excited to play with Hermione again after such a long time that it almost instantaneously sprang to life in her mouth.
Harry stared with wide, terror filled eyes at the group in front of him. There were sixteen people sitting no less than ten feet away from him and Hermione was giving him a blow-job! She was giving him head in a confined and somewhat crowded public space! And Harry was terrified that they were going to be discovered.
“How would it make it harder for us?” a fifth year Prefect from Hufflepuff asked Luna disguised as Hermione.
A soft slurping sound from Hermione reached Harry’s ears. To him, it sounded so loud that it echoed off the walls and he was positive that everyone heard it. Harry was expecting one of the sixteen Prefects to ask/ “what’s that sound?”/ any second. If Harry was thinking rationally, he would have realized that the clanking sound of the train on the tracks covered Hermione’s soft slurping. But as stated previously; Harry – and men in general – do not think rationally when they are being pleasured.
“Professor McGonagall fears that because the small number of students, some bad apples will feel the need to act up,” Luna answered.
“Why?” Ron asked with a touch of mirth in his voice. “Fred and George left two years ago.”
A number of the people in the room laughed at the memories of havoc that the twins wrought. Harry wasn’t one of them. He was trying desperately not to moan as Hermione continued to work his penis.
“That is true, Ronald,” Luna offered in Hermione’s voice. “But Professor McGonagall feels that some of the students who were too shy to do such things before will blossom, if you will, with a smaller class size.”
Even though Harry was terrified of discovery, ‘Harry, Jr.’ couldn’t care less about the other students just a few feet away. The organ hadn’t played in so long that it seized this opportunity.
“Another issue that many people will not like is Quidditch,” Luna continued.
“What about Quidditch?” Ron asked, his tone serious and deadly.
Tiny beads of sweat appeared on Harry’s face. And he was quite sure that his skin was flushed and red as well. He was on the verge of a panic attack. Harry was positive that someone would somehow put two and two together, stand up and say “Hey everybody, Harry’s getting a blow-job!”
/ /”The Houses are very small this year,” Luna pointed out. “I doubt that there will be enough skilled flyers from each house to form a proper Quidditch team this year.”
“What?” Ron and a few other Prefects shouted out in disbelief and immediately started arguing with Luna.
“Harry, you’re Head Boy,” Ron shouted. “Do something!”
Harry, who had not been paying as much attention to the proceedings as he should have, only heard two of Ron’s words. And those two words were “Harry” and “Head.” Our hero immediately believed that Ron had called him out and exposed the oral sex.
“Bu-b-bu-but I-I-I” Harry stammered in panic.
“Listen, it isn’t fair to us who don’t have a lot of people,” a Ravenclaw argued. “We have only one returning team member this year. The other four who were supposed to come back dropped out!”
“So what?” one of the Gryffindors challenged.
A full out argument erupted. Some people were contesting that it wasn’t fair to continue the games if they didn’t have full teams. While the other side argued that no one should be given special treatment just because of the small House size.
While the Prefects argued amongst themselves, Luna leaned over and inspected Harry’s lap. Harry could see Luna examine the fellatio with Hermione’s eyes. She watched the real Hermione suck and bob on ‘Harry, Jr.’ for a few seconds before turning her attention to Harry and saying, “She’s really good at that, isn’t she?”
“Maybe we can work out an arrangement with McGonagall,” one Hufflepuff suggested. “Maybe have some players from one House fill in for another team to even out the numbers?”
“What are you crazy?” Ron demanded. “There’s no way in hell I’d play for Slytherin!”
“Don’t worry, Weasel,” one of the few Slytherins countered. “We wouldn’t want you anyway!”
With a muffled grunt, Harry came. It was like a floodgate had been opened inside of him. All the tension and stress that had built up over the past two weeks just poured out of him. That and he came a lot too. It had been building up for quite some time, you see.
Panting, Harry turned to see that Luna was still watching his lap.
“Oh, she really does swallow! You are a lucky wizard!” Luna punctuated her statement with soft but elegant clapping.
“FINE!” Ron hollered. “WE’LL TALK TO MCGONAGALL AND STRAIGHTEN THIS ALL OUT!”
All the Prefects except for Ron filed out of the compartment. Most of the prefects were still mumbling as they left. Luna, who still looked like Hermione, sauntered over to her husband.
“Ronald, I want you to take me to the loo and make love to me,” Luna said in Hermione’s voice.
It was as if she had slapped Ron hard across the face. He stared at her in shock. He then looked at Harry, his expression full of disbelief and worry. It was evident that Ron was worried that Harry was going to pummel him because Hermione had made a pass at him.
“H-H-Her-Hermione, are you m-m-mad?” Ron stammered.
“No, I’m not,” Luna said in Hermione’s voice. “I’m very randy however because I just watched Harry get oral sex and it turned me on.”
“Who gave him head?” Ron squeaked. It was clear the poor wizard was completely lost and didn’t have a clue as to what had just happened.
“Hermione did,” Luna pointed out. “Harry is very lucky; Hermione is a talented witch who apparently likes to swallow.”
“But you’re Hermione,” Ron stated. “How could you watch him get head when you were the one doing it?”
“I’m not Hermione, silly,” Luna chuckled. “I’m your wife.”
“Luna?” Ron asked.
Harry, who was still panting, only half listened to Ron and Luna’s conversation. He was still coming down from his ecstasy… and Hermione was still licking his bits clean, that was very distracting to Harry, but in a good way.
“Yes, before we left the castle, Hermione and I fetched some Polyjuice from the Potions Lab as well as Harry’s Invisibility Cloak,” Luna explained. “Hermione wanted to make up with Harry, but he was being obstinate. So she came up with this plan, you see.”
“Not really,” Ron admitted.
“Well, that doesn’t matter,” Luna dismissed. “The Polyjuice only has a few minutes left and I want to make love to you in this form. It ought to feel extremely weird to have sex in a body with such relatively tiny titties. So let’s get cracking.”
Luna grabbed Ron’s hand and ran out of the compartment.
“What just happened?” Harry asked.
Hermione got out from under the table and sat in her lover’s lap.
“Luna is going to shag Ron,” Hermione pointed out after lowering the cloak to reveal her face.
“But she looks like you,” Harry stated.
“So?”
“Isn’t that like cheating?” Harry speculated. “I mean, yeah, Ron is having sex with Luna, but she looks like you. So wouldn’t that be like having sex with you?”
“Not really. It’s sort of like a very complex form of role-play,” explained Hermione.
“What’s a role play?” Harry asked.
“Sometimes couples pretend to be something they’re not, in order to spice things up,” Hermione answered. Harry gave her a puzzled look so she continued. “For example, a couple will dress up in costumes and act like they are different people. The woman sometimes dresses up as a nurse while the man dons a patient garb. The couple acts like he’s a sick patient in the hospital and she pretends to be a randy nurse who seduces him.
“Instead of dressing up as a nurse and a patient, Luna used Polyjuice to change her appearance. Luna will make sure that Ron understands it is really her and not me. So it won’t be cheating,” Hermione concluded.
The brunette witch kissed Harry’s lips before saying; “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”
“Don’t worry, you made it up to me,” Harry replied with a smile. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings too.”
Harry was about to kiss Hermione when she suddenly got off of his lap and sat on the table in front of him.
“You’re not getting off that easily. I showed you I was sorry with that blow-job,” she said and spread her legs wide while hoisting up her skirt. Harry gulped when he saw that his girlfriend wasn’t wearing any knickers. “Now it’s time for you to show me you’re sorry.”
Harry closed his eyes and quickly thought of a snake before saying in Parseltongue “Yes-s-s, Hermione.”
The brunette witch shivered with desire as Harry bowed his head into her lap. Harry could tell that she too needed release after such a long time. And he was more than happy to give it to her.
But because of the sounds of the train’s brakes being engaged and the subsequent lurching caused by the vehicle’s abrupt stopping, Harry wasn’t able to complete his task. Instead, Hermione went sliding off the table and landed directly on his face as they both crashed to the ground. The breaks continued to squeal and Harry could hear (albeit muffled) people screaming in shock and surprise.
It took Harry and Hermione a moment to untangle themselves from each other, but the moment they did, the door to the Heads’ Compartment blew up in a thousand little pieces.
“Time to pay, you little bastards,” a Death Eater threatened as he stepped through the remains of the door.
To Be Continued

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Chapter Eighteen: Pass the Salt and the Awkwardness, Please.
Disclaimer: Not mine, I own nothing. I’m not making any money.
WARNING: Harsh Language, adult themes, sexual situations (i.e. smut), bad spelling and grammar.
Author’s Notes: This story is a broad farce with over the top humor (a good deal of it is crude and sexual) and OOC actions (that’s Out Of Character if you don’t know). Also, this is my first smut-ish fic. If you don’t like sex and sex-based humor, do NOT read this!
Chapter Eighteen: “Doctor, Doctor, give me the news…”
After Tonks had left, Harry and Hermione had a very interesting conversation.
“B-but I-I already m-met your f-folks,” Harry pointed out nervously.
“You said ‘hi’ to them from across the room five years ago,” corrected Hermione. “That isn’t what I’d call /’meeting them’/.”
“C-couldn’t we do this a-after we defeat V-Voldemort,” Harry suggested with a stutter. “I-I mean, I’v-ve got so much on my mind as it is; g-go to school , f-find the Horcruxes, f-face Voldemort. P-please, w-w-we’ll meet y-your parents a-after I defeat V-Voldemort!”
At that precise moment, Harry was hoping that he’d lose the final battle with Voldemort. Death was a much more pleasing option to Harry than meeting the parents of the girl he was having sex with.
“Harry, you’re the bravest person I know,” said Hermione. “You face danger constantly. Practically every madman in Britain has tried to kill you. You went toe to toe with a fire-breathing dragon for pity’s sake! How could meeting my parents be worse than that?”
“Because I wasn’t boinking the dragon’s daughter!” Harry pointed out.
“What, do you think I’m going to introduce you like ‘Mum, Dad, this is Harry. We’ve had sex in a broom-cupboard while a group of house-elves mourned outside’ /or ‘This is Harry. I like to swallow his load’/?” Hermione asked.
“Please don’t,” Harry squeaked weakly.
“Don’t worry Harry, my parents won’t know,” Hermione clarified. “It’s not as if I going to wear a sign that states we’ve had sex.”
“But your eyes are green,” Harry retorted. “They’ll want to know why your eyes have changed color.”
“I’ll simply cast a Glamour Charm on them so they look brown again. Besides, even if they did notice them, they’d never suspect how it happened. It’s not like they would ever associate eye-color change with sex.”
Even with Hermione’s reassurance, Harry was still nervous about meeting her mother and father. So, to help bolster his confidence, Hermione took a page out of Luna’s book. Later that night, Harry and Hermione commandeered the fourth year boys’ room – because Ron and Luna were already in Harry’s room shagging like rabbits… again. What followed was a very interesting scene. As Harry lay on his back, Hermione rode him like a pony. She was bouncing up and down which made her boobs jiggle quite nicely. But what was very unusual was that in between thrusts and grunts, Hermione would tell Harry anecdotes about how nice and loving her parents were.
“/Um/… my dad… /oh/… loves model trains… /Merlin, that feels so-o-o-o go-o-ood/… and when… /ah/… I was eight… /wow/… I broke… /yummy/… one of his favorites… /yeah, right there/… he was mad at first and yelled… /uh/… but then he bought me a lolly… /grrr/… to say he was sorry for yelling.”
Harry wasn’t certain that he was feeling more confident about meeting her father or not, but he was becoming convinced that Hermione really enjoyed being on top.
“/Yes-s-s-s/… and my mum… /play with my titties, Harry/… bakes wonderful… /oh fuck/… cookies… /warm and gooey/… all warm and gooey….”
After they had finished, Hermione cuddled with Harry while she continued to praise her parents as they drifted off to sleep.
*
The next day, Hermione left early in the morning to go shopping for a present for Tonks and the baby. She told Harry that her errand would most likely be an all day event and that she would head over to the shower right after shopping therefore she wouldn’t be back until late.
Harry was a little bored without Hermione. He had grown used to her company the past few days – in particular when they were both naked and in each other’s company – and it felt a little odd that she wasn’t there.
Thankfully, Ron and Luna were there to keep Harry company. Luna sat on the couch reading Harry’s ‘special book’ while the two wizards played chess. Every once in a while, Luna would read aloud a segment of the book that she found interesting.
“It says here, there’s a position that causes the witch to sneeze and have spontaneous bouts of accidental magic,” the blonde witch read. “And here’s a ritual that causes plants and other vegetation to grow faster through the act of something the author refers to as /’double-dipping’/.”
“That’s nice,” Ron said dispassionately as he moved one of his pawns right in front of Harry’s bishop. It was clear that Ron was still nervous about having dinner with his new father-in-law. Because of this distraction (or as one might call it; mind-numbing fear), for the first time, Harry was able to beat Ron.
Around four in the afternoon, Luna and Ron left for their dinner date with her father leaving Harry to head down to the kitchens for an early supper. Unfortunately, the one sect of the house-elves were still upset about Harry having sex with Hermione and showed this anger in how they prepared his food. The meal, if one could call it a meal, consisted of festering meat of some kind, a small pile of dirt, and a boiled shoe. Although Harry had to admit that the shoe was very nicely garnished with some rosemary and thyme. It showed that the house-elves were still taking pride in their work.
Given his options, Harry decided to head out to Hogsmede to fetch his supper instead. He walked into The Three Broomsticks, which was under new management seeing that Madam Rosmerta was still in St Mungo’s, and found Hagrid and Professor McGonagall sitting at a nearby table.
“‘ello there, Harry,” the half-giant called out. “Good ter see ya.”
“Come join us, Mr. Potter,” requested McGonagall.
“Thank you,” said Harry as he took an empty seat. After ordering some stew and a butterbeer from the waitress, Harry asked McGonagall, “Weren’t you invited to Tonks’ shower as well, ma’am?”
“Yes, I was,” answered McGonagall. “But to be perfectly honest, those types of gatherings tend to bother me. It’s an excuse for witches to gather together and complain about dirty nappies and stretch marks.”
After the three finished their meal, McGonagall brought up an interesting topic.
“Draco Malfoy woke up earlier today,” the Headmistress stated. “He claims that he was running from Death Eaters. It seems that Mr. Malfoy didn’t have the stomach for it.”
“Are they going to prosecute him for what he did?” Harry asked.
“Not likely,” informed McGonagall.
“What do you mean?” Harry blurted out. “At the very least, he helped the Death Eaters attack Hogwarts and kill Professor Dumbledore.”
“The moment Malfoy woke up he started talking,” McGonagall explained. “He named a dozen previously unknown Death Eaters who were spying in the ministry. He also gave the location of a Hit-Wizard named Ross Stone, who has been missing for almost a year now.”
“If ya ask me he was better left missing,” Hagrid commented after he took a massive gulp of ale. “For what e’s done, e’s an unbelievably arrogant bugger.”
“That’s not a very nice thing to say about Stone, Hagrid,” McGonagall chastised the large man before commenting under her breath “Even though it’s true.
“Because of this useful information that Mr. Malfoy supplied,” the Headmistress continued. “I believe that the Ministry is planning on giving Draco leniency.”
Harry, McGonagall, and Hagrid made their way back to the castle as Harry pondered the information on Draco. Even though Draco may have done some good in turning over a few Death Eaters to the Ministry, it still didn’t sit right with Harry. Dumbledore was dead in part to Draco’s actions. In Harry’s mind, Draco should have to do a lot more than turn over some Death Eaters in order to earn forgiveness.
Harry returned to his room and noticed that Hermione, Luna, and Ron had not yet returned. Picking up his /’special book’/, Harry headed up to his room to read up on some new techniques.
An hour or so later, Harry heard Hermione call out from the Common Room.
“Harry, are you in here?” she yelled.
“Yeah, in my room,” Harry called out. He could hear her run up the stairs and he set his ‘special book’ on the bedside table.
Hermione rushed in the room carrying a large paper bag. A huge grin was plastered on her face and her cheeks were a bright red.
“I take it you had a good time?” Harry asked.
“It was brilliant!” Hermione cheered.
“Really?” Harry asked. “I didn’t know a baby shower could be so much fun.” In fact, both Tonks and McGonagall had told him that all that happened at these gatherings were discussions about pregnancy and babies. That didn’t sound like fun to him. Actually, it sounded rather frightening.
“It wasn’t just a baby shower thanks to Courtney!” Hermione said and clutched the bag to her chest happily.
“What did she do?” Harry inquired. Courtney had a wicked streak in her and Harry knew that the Auror-in-training could do some mischievous things.
“Seeing how Remus and Tonks are getting married, Courtney officially declared that it was a bridal shower as well!” Hermione was as happy as a child on Christmas morning.
“What does that mean?” Harry honestly had no idea what happened at a bridal shower. He assumed that since everyone talks about babies and pregnancies at a baby shower that in a bridal shower is full of discussions about weddings. But that didn’t give Hermione a reason to be so happy. Did someone hit her with a Cheering Charm?
“Let me show you!” Hermione dumped the contents of the paper bag onto his bed. As the contents spilled out on his sheets, Hermione called out, “Courtney brought party gifts for everyone!”
As Harry looked at the various objects that were now on his bed, he realized that a baby shower is nothing like a bridal shower. These items would be completely inappropriate to give to an expectant mother or the soon-to-be-born child.
The first thing Harry saw on the pile was four sets of pink fur-lined leather cuffs. A long thin chain was attached to each of these cuffs. Hermione unsuccessfully attempted to force back a giggle when Harry picked up one of the cuffs. The next item looked like a short wand but it had a small ball on the tip. Harry had no idea why Courtney would give Hermione such a strange looking wand. A ping-pong paddle was lying alongside a red ball that was attached to some sort of long leather strap. There were several other devices of various sizes and shapes, but one of the items was easily identifiable; a very large and fluffy quill. When Harry picked up the big and fluffy feather, Hermione sighed happily.
“Um, what are these?” Harry asked.
“They’re toys!” Hermione said exuberantly.
They were unlike any toys Harry had ever seen. He recalled his toys when he was a kid: broken toy soldiers and bent Frisbees; these items were nothing like his toys. Besides, even if they were toys, Harry had no idea what Hermione was so happy about. She was more a book person than a toy person.
Hermione pushed all of the so-called toys except for the cuffs and chains off of the bed. Harry watched as she sat on the bed and then proceeded to wrap one of the cuffs around her left ankle. She then repeated the process on her right ankle and then both of her wrists with the remaining three cuffs.
“Tap each one with your wand,” Hermione ordered with a touch of mirth in her voice.
“Okay,” Harry uttered and then complied. A second after he had tapped the last of the four cuffs, the chains sprang to life. They shot out in four different directions, causing Hermione to fall back onto the bed. As Hermione was flung back onto the bed, she made a fairly happy “whee-e-e!” sound.
Harry gulped and looked at his girlfriend in surprise. She was lying spread-eagle on her back. Judging by how taught the chains were, Harry assumed that Hermione could only move her arms and legs a couple of inches at most.
“Don’t just stand there,” Hermione said eagerly. “Get to work.”
“You want me to use one of these?” Harry asked disbelievingly and he held up the quill for example.
“No, I want you to make a cake,” Hermione said with a giggle. “Now get these clothes off of me and tickle me with that feather!”
Harry was stunned yet again at how kinky his girlfriend was; she wanted him to strip her and then tease her with the feather. Thankfully the happiness he felt about having such an adventurous lover surpassed his surprise and he grabbed his wand.
“/Vestimentum// Abripio!”/ Harry incanted and all of Hermione’s clothes disappeared with a pop. The only things she was left wearing were her socks and trainers.
Hermione craned her neck and looked at her exposed flesh. “Well, I was thinking that you would’ve done that slowly. You know, drag it out a bit.”
“I’m sorry, I thought you were in a rush,” Harry mocked. “If you’d like, I can put the clothes back on and we can start again?”
“To hell with that,” Hermione hissed. “I’m so randy that I’m practically dripping.”
To test Hermione’s word, Harry held his hand at her flower. Her heat radiated through his hand as it hovered less than an inch away from her petals.
“Not quite yet,” Harry commented on her state of arousal. “But you’re getting there.”
Harry held the feather over Hermione’s face and slowly brought it down so that it covered her nose and lips. With a deliberately unhurried pace, Harry dragged the toy down her chin, over her neck, stopping at the valley between her breasts. Harry began to draw a small circle in between her tittes with the tip of the feather. Tiny bumps blossomed all over Hermione’s skin and her body shivered as the feather tickled her. After a few seconds, Harry moved the tip so that it was circling her breast. Slowly, Harry closed the circle until it eclipsed ‘Carmella’. The bud rose up and poked out of the hair-like strands of the feather. Harry decided to congratulate ‘Carmella’s’ achievement of breaking through the feather’s fibers by giving it a kiss. His lips encompassed her nipple and Hermione groaned out. Harry repeated this process on /’Natasha’ /because he didn’t think it would be fair to leave the other nipple out.
Hermione shivered as the feather dragged down her tummy and circled her belly-button. She groaned out in anticipation as Harry ran the tip over her hairless mon-pubis. Then he traced the feather down the insides of her thighs, just barely touching her flower. Hermione ground her hips, silently begging for Harry to continue. He ran the tip of the feather along her labia and she moaned.
A sharp pain drew Harry’s attention to his own groin. ‘Harry, Jr.’ was so eager to play that the organ was trying to force its way through Harry’s trousers. Harry paused for a second to readjust his pants so that his penis had a little more room to expand.
Harry returned his attention to Hermione and continued the tactic of teasing her flower for some time. He marveled at how Hermione moaned and how she struggled against her restraints.
“Take me Harry,” Hermione moaned out. “I need you inside of me.”
Normally, Harry would have been more than eager to follow her request – in fact, ‘Harry, Jr.’ was begging him to obey her command – but he got such a thrill at teasing her that he wanted to continue at it. The soft sounds she was making and the way she was wriggling truly excited him. He needed to see more. So Harry continued to tickle her pussy with the feather. Harry was amused by her reaction, Hermione felt pleasure at the feather, but it wasn’t enough. Her body was aching for release.
“Har-r-r-ry!” she mewed in frustration and lust which only heightened Harry’s arousal and his determination to tease her. Her flower was glistening and the fibers of the feather began to clump and stick together.
Resolving to cause her even more pleasurable frustration, Harry used two of his fingers from his free hand to begin to gently pry apart her petals to expose her clit. Hermione quickly tried to move her hips in hopes of some sort of penetration and relief, but Harry denied her. He spread her lips open and revealed her button. Hermione cried out when he touched the wet feather to her clitoris. She quivered and he traced her bud lovingly. It was something that he could do for hours… and he had every intention of doing so when Hermione looked at him with her beautiful brown-green eyes.
“Please Harry,” Hermione cried pitifully. “I need you…”
Harry placed the soiled feather to the side and focused on the image of a snake in his mind. He lowered himself and placed his lips to her womanhood and reached into the love that he felt for Hermione. She flowed into his mouth and on the sheets the moment his love-charge Parsletongue power entered her. Her juices dripped down his chin as he licked and suckled at her.
He looked up at her as he worked his magic. Her entire body was glistening with sweat and her skin was flush and radiant. The chains were the only thing keeping Hermione from grabbing fistfuls of his hair. Harry could see her fingers claw at the air, looking for something to grab onto.
“Sweet Baby Maeve!” Hermione cried out and Harry lapped at her honey as she orgasmed. Her legs tired to clamp down around Harry’s head but the restraints held them in place. He continued to eat her out as she rode her climax.
“Get that thing in me now!” Hermione growled and panted.
Not even bothering to undress fully, Harry lowered his trousers just far enough to pull his rock-hard member out. Harry slid himself into her sopping cunny and she squeezed him.
“Fuck me hard, Harry,” she ordered.
Harry didn’t let himself go completely; he doubted that he ever would, out of fear of hurting her, but he did allow himself to thrust away. He drove into his lover causing his hips to slap against hers.
“Do it!” Hermione cried out. “Shag me!”
Due to the speed of his thrusts, Harry didn’t last long. He pumped away and grunted as he spilled his seed into her. He continued to pump even after he had stopped cumming. His arms were growing weak and his body wanted to rest, but Harry ignored it. The look on Hermione’s face told him that she would be climaxing again soon and his exhaustion was nothing compared to his desire to pleasure Hermione.
She didn’t make a sound when it hit her, but Harry felt and saw her body tense up. Her walls contracted around his organ.
After she had finished, Harry lay on top of her and kissed her lips.
“I love you so much, Hermione,” he whispered fondly.
“I… love… you… Har…ry” Hermione breathed out as she fell asleep.
Harry stayed there on top and inside of her. He enjoyed the sensation of her around him as much as he enjoyed watching her sleep. He took a great amount of pride in satisfying her so completely. A soft snore escaped Hermione’s throat and Harry smiled. He had no idea how much time had elapsed when a voice sounded behind him.
“There are very reliable Door Locking Charms, you know,” Luna said.
Without pulling himself out of his sleeping lover, Harry looked back over his shoulder to see Luna and Ron standing in the doorway. Luna had her ever-present dreamy look to her eyes while Ron had his hand pressed firmly over his own eyes.
“If you didn’t know of any, you could’ve written simple a ‘Do Not Disturb’ note and stuck it to the door,” added Luna.
“Okay,” Harry squeaked. He imagined that Luna was getting a very interesting and messy show from where she was standing. If he had his wits about him, he may have retorted that Luna should practice what she preaches because he had walked in on them as well.
“We just wanted to pop in and tell you we’re back from our dinner with Daddy,” Luna informed Harry.
“Okay,” Harry squeaked again. He was troubled that Luna wasn’t bothered by the sight of him lying on top of a bound and unconscious Hermione.
“Daddy and Ronald got on smashingly,” Luna said happily. “Didn’t you Ronald?”
“Yes,” Ron answered in a monotone with his hand still over his eyes. Harry was happy that at least Ron was bothered by seeing Harry lying on top of a bound and unconscious Hermione.
“I was going to wish you two a good-night,” Luna stated. “But it’s obvious that you have already had one.”
“Okay,” whimpered Harry.
Luna began to turn, as if she was finally going to leave the room, when she paused. Her large blue eyes were fixed on the pile of toys that Hermione had brought back from the shower. Leaving her boyfriend in the doorway, Luna trotted up to the side of Harry’s bed. The blonde witch bent over – Harry noted that her head was uncomfortably close to his and Hermione’s joined hips while doing so – and retrieved the short wand. She stood back up and held the device in front of Harry’s face.
“Can I borrow this tonight?” she asked exhilaration.
“Okay,” Harry muttered. He still had no idea what the item was used for, but it was clear by Luna’s excited expression that she knew what it was.
Once again, Luna turned to the door but stopped. Harry saw her eyes survey the wet sheets and she gave him the thumbs-up symbol.
“Smashing job, Harry,” she commented. “I know Ron’s not a Parslemouth, but you have to teach him some of your techniques.”
“Okay,” murmured Harry.
Before she left, Luna gave Harry a congratulatory pat for his job of satisfying Hermione into unconsciousness. Of course, the pat was on Harry’s naked arse. This caused him to recoil away from the smack which led to him accidentally thrusting his hips into Hermione’s, which caused her to snore loudly. Thankfully, Hermione was completely worn out. Harry thought it would be safe to assume that Hermione would be upset if she had woken up to find Harry still inside her while having a conversation with Luna.
“Night, Harry,” Ron muttered with obvious embarrassment in his voice.
“We’re going to be using this wand I barrowed in the Common Room, just to let you know,” Luna informed Harry before disappearing down the hall.
Harry continued to lie in and on Hermione for a while. He was still in too much shock at having Ron and Luna walk in on the “after-glow” to move. After a few moments, Harry snapped out of his surprise and rolled off and out of his lover. He muttered a few cleaning spells and removed the cuffs from Hermione’s ankles and wrists. Pulling the sheet over them, Harry cuddled with Hermione. As Harry drifted off into sleep, he heard a distant soft buzzing sound accompanied by Luna’s giggle.
*
The first thing Harry saw when he woke up the next morning was Hermione’s smiling eyes. He assumed that her lips would have been smiling as well if they weren’t wrapped around his willy.
Apparently, ‘Harry, Jr.’ woke up before Harry did. And Hermione clearly wanted to thank the organ, and therefore Harry, on such a good job of pleasing her the night before.
“Morning, love,” Harry groaned out.
Hermione raised her mouth off of Harry’s organ to return the greeting. “Good morning,” she said with a thin line of spittle connecting her lips to his crown. After she finished speaking, Hermione plunged back down and began to hum Harry’s theme.
Harry wished that he could wake up to this every morning; it was so much better than an alarm clock. He felt pity for other wizards who had to rise out of their slumber to the sound of a ringing bell. Humming and slurping were much better sounds than any bell ringing.
“Oh by the way, Harry,” Hermione paused in her fellatio. “I stopped by my parents yesterday, before the shower.”
“Oh really,” Harry tried to sound like he cared, but all he wanted was Hermione to continue sucking. Perhaps she could talk while it was in her mouth? No, that might lead to a case of accidental biting.
Thankfully, Hermione returned to the task immediately after speaking. She bobbed a few more times and Harry could feel his balls begin to well up. Seeing how close he was, Harry reasoned that Hermione must have started to suck him off well before he woke up.
Once again, Hermione stopped and raised her head.
“I stopped by and talked to my parents before I went to the shower to ask them something,” she said while she stroked his length.
“That’s nice,” Harry murmured. He honestly didn’t care if she had popped over to Buckingham Palace to have tea with the Queen. All he wanted was for his lover to finish what she had started, and to finish soon. It wasn’t fair of Hermione to have a discussion with him at a time like this. She must’ve known that he couldn’t form coherent thoughts much less words when she was blowing him.
Hermione went back to pleasuring Harry. Something was nagging him, at the back of his mind. It was like his subconscious was trying to tell him something that had slipped his mind. He knew it was dreadfully important, but it obviously wasn’t as important as Hermione giving him head.
He was so very close, any second he’d be a happy wizard. But his joy was postponed yet again when Hermione paused to speak.
“I set up that dinner with my parents,” she said.
“Neat,” Harry forced himself to mutter. What he truly wanted to say was “Who the hell cares? I’m about to cum!”
/ /Hermione enveloped his organ into her mouth once more. She was infuriating him with all this small talk. Why the hell would she start this if she wanted to talk? She was using her mouth for other things besides speaking. And when she talked, she only delayed his pleasure. Was this in retaliation for all the teasing he inflicted on her the night before? Harry realized that it wasn’t, because he had a feeling that Hermione would do a much better job of teasing besides pausing to have a chat. Perhaps she had an ulterior motive.
That nagging sensation grew in his head. It slowly dawned on Harry that it was something about Hermione’s parents. He knew that Hermione had a reason to talk to her parents and it was important in some way to Harry, but what it was had slipped his mind. Hermione’s wonderful mouth on his penis drove it and all other thoughts away.
He was on the edge of cumming. In a second or two, he’d be finished.
“Hermione, I’m gonna-”
Harry started to warn his lover of his impending ejaculation. But Hermione raised her head and said rapidly: “We’re going to have dinner with my parents tonight!”
She then swallowed Harry’s organ before he could realize what she had said to him. She bobbed and sucked. Harry grunted as he released himself into her mouth. The black-haired wizard lay on his back panting. He was very happy.
Then, Hermione’s words hit him; he was going to meet her parents in a few hours!
Harry shot upright in the bed and looked with horror filled eyes at his girlfriend.
“Bu-b-but w-w-what?” he stammered.
“We’re going to have dinner with my mum and dad tonight,” she repeated with a devilish grin on her face.
Harry looked between his still wet genitals and Hermione in surprise and disbelief. “You told me that while you were giving me head?”
“Yes,” she answered and the roguish smile grew. “You would have started to panic if I just brought it up. This way I eased you into the knowledge.”
“By giving me head?”
“I happen to think it went well,” Hermione stated. “If I wasn’t giving you fellatio, you would’ve tried to talk your way out of meeting mum and dad.”
Harry was about to voice his objections. Hermione had turned something pure and wonderful – the blow job – into nothing more that just a means to mask a conversation. But any protests he had were lost on Hermione when she stood and commanded, “We need to get you some decent clothes, so let’s hop in the shower.” With that, Hermione walked out of the room.
Harry sat in his bed. He hung his head low and sulked. He was going to meet the parents of the witch he was in love with and was shagging. He wondered if he would feel less awkward meeting them if he and Hermione hadn’t had sex yet.
After a minute or two, Harry walked into the bathroom. His sullen spirit was suddenly lifted when he saw a wet, naked, and suds-covered Hermione waiting for him. Normally, Harry could take a shower in less than five minutes, but seeing how he had to help Hermione wash up, it took him a little over fifteen minutes to do so. Of course, he had to bring her to orgasm with his tongue and fingers after he washed her hair; it was the polite thing to do.
*
Harry’s breakfast consisted of a large plate of steaming Thestral droppings. He reasoned that it was the winged horse’s excrement because he could see it but Hermione couldn’t. After stealing half of Hermione’s food, the two lovers set out for Diagon Alley.
First, they had to stop by Gringrotts to pick up some money. Seeing how they were going to meet her parents, they realized that they couldn’t shop for Harry’s clothes in Diagon Alley. He had to be in proper Muggle-clothes for that. So they had to exchange a few galleons for pound notes.
Harry had not gone clothes shopping since he had to buy his first set of school robes (it also happened to have been his first time clothes shopping as well). Needless to say, Harry was completely lost when Hermione led him into a Muggle department store. There were hundreds of styles to choose from.
Hermione decided to let Harry pick out his own clothes. It was a mistake that many women make when they are first dating; they believe their boyfriends can have the slightest traces of taste and style without their input. Hermione realized her error when Harry showed her the plain white pull-over – which was four sizes too large – and the pair of jeans – again, four sizes too large. Hermione nearly dragged Harry physically through the store as she picked out over a dozen shirts and slacks for Harry to try out. She then marched him over to the fitting rooms and made him try each one on. Hermione demanded that Harry parade each outfit in front of her. After she had Harry turn around to show the clothes off, she dismissed all of her selections. They either didn’t “suit” him or the color was suddenly “all wrong” for him. She then marched Harry back through the shop and selected another dozen set of clothes. Harry then had to try each one on and Hermione would examine him and then decided if Harry should buy it or not. She repeated this process countless times over the next four hours and three shops until she was satisfied with three dress shirts and two slacks for Harry. Before that day, Harry didn’t realize shopping was such a demanding and tiring process.
After a light lunch at a Muggle restaurant, they headed back to the castle. When they arrived, Hermione supervised Harry as he dressed.
“No, not the polo,” she said. “Try the blue button-up one… no the red one.”
It took Harry half an hour to dress. Hermione kept changing her mind as to what he should wear. The seventh time she had him try on the blue shirt, he realized that she must have been just as nervous as he was.
After they had successfully dressed, Hermione created a Portkey out of an old piece of parchment. Harry landed gracelessly in the back garden of the Granger home. With a wave of her wand, Hermione cleaned Harry’s clothes.
“Are you ready?” Hermione asked.
“Yeah,” Harry said aloud while chanting internally ‘Don’t mention sex. Don’t mention sex.’
/ /Hermione was about to open up the back door when Harry stopped her.
“Hermione, your eyes!” he hissed. In all the excitement, they had forgotten to disguise her now mostly green eyes. Harry knew that Hermione was right when she said her parents wouldn’t possibly guess the cause of this change, but he didn’t want to take any chances. Hermione waved her wand over her face and the green was replaced by brown.
As Hermione tucked her wand away, the back door flew open with a bang. In the doorway stood a short man with curly brown hair, the same hair as Hermione’s. He glowered at Harry angrily.
“You Potter?” he asked gruffly.
“Yes sir,” Harry replied in a tiny voice.
“What are your intentions with my daughter?” he demanded.
“Daddy!” Hermione chastised.
“Richard!” a voice sounding very similar to Hermione’s called out from inside the house. “Leave the poor boy alone!”
A woman, who had a very similar nose and mouth to Hermione, hauled the man away from the door.
“But Fiona, it’s my job,” the man objected as he disappeared from view.
Hermione led Harry into the house. Her parents were standing in front of the stove.
“Mum, Dad, this is Harry Potter. Harry, these are my parents; Doctor Richard Granger and Doctor Fiona Granger.” Hermione introduced them.
“You can call us Fiona and Richard,” Hermione’s mother said warmly. It was clear to Harry that Fiona was trying her best to make him comfortable.
“No he can’t,” Hermione’s father objected. Harry felt it was safe to assume that Richard had no intention of making Harry feel comfortable.
“Ignore him,” Fiona commented. She then shook Harry’s hand and said cordially “Hello Harry.”
“Hi, ma’am,” Harry returned the greeting.
Richard’s greeting wasn’t as warm and inviting as his wife’s. In fact, when Harry extended his hand to Hermione’s father, the man stared at it like it was something offensive. For what felt like an eternity, Harry stood there with his hand extended, waiting for Richard to shake it.
Harry saw Hermione give her mother a concerned look. It was clear that Hermione was both worried and embarrassed by her father’s attitude. Picking up on her daughter’s look, Fiona broke the awkward silence.
“Let’s have dinner shall we?” Fiona said and led everyone out of the kitchen and into the dinning room.
It was a wonderfully prepared meal of roast chicken and potatoes. While they ate, Fiona would ask Harry polite question about himself and Hermione. Such as, “Do you two share a lot of classes?”, “Do you like Hogwarts?”, and “Do you know what you are going to do with you life after you’re finished with school?”
Harry limited his responses to “Yes, ma’am” or “No, ma’am.” He was afraid that if he said anymore than that he would blurt out something inappropriate. For example; “I can draw an exact replica of your daughter’s vagina from memory!” Harry thought that would not be proper.
Of course, Richard just stared menacingly at Harry throughout the entire dinner. Which added to Harry’s already massive case of nervousness. The young wizard was sweating bullets.
When Hermione and Fiona were almost finished with their meal, Harry noticed that he had barely touched his food. He didn’t eat much simply because he was so nervous. But Richard took his lack of appetite as something offensive.
“Is our food not good enough?” Richard asked as he glowered at Harry.
“Richard, just what do you think you are doing?” Fiona demanded.
“My job,” Richard said as if those two words unequivocally proved his point.
“And what is your job, exactly?” Hermione asked. Harry could see that his girlfriend was upset with her father’s behavior.
“My job as your dad,” Richard elaborated. “It’s the job of all dads to give the blokes who are interested in their daughters a hard time.”
“Oh come off of it Richard,” Fiona chided. “My dad did the same thing to you when I brought you home. I distinctly remember that you hated the way dad treated you.”
“That’s different,” argued Richard. “Your Dad was being unrealistic. Me, on the other hand, I’m protecting our daughter’s virtue from this bag of raging hormones.” This was completed with a finger jabbed in Harry’s direction.
Hermione just rolled her eyes.
“Besides, I’m just carrying on a tradition,” argued Richard. “Every dad has to consider the bloke who’s dating his daughter is a sex-crazed fiend. And it’s our duty as parents to protect our daughter from them.”
“Stuff it, Richard.” Fiona shot back. “Hermione’s got a good head on her shoulders and she’s known Harry for years. And it’s obvious that they care for each other deeply. So leave the boy alone!”
Richard grumbled something before hanging his head dejectedly.
After finishing dinner, Harry helped the Grangers clean up the table. The four then went into the parlor for drinks. Fiona sat on the couch while Harry and Hermione took two comfy chairs opposite of the couch. Richard poured a glass of wine for himself, Fiona, and Hermione. Harry however was handed a glass of warm milk by Hermione’s dad. The message was clear to Harry; Richard was saying that Harry wasn’t a man yet and didn’t deserve wine. Despite a glaring look from both Hermione and Fiona, Richard took pride in knocking Harry down a notch.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Fiona called out. “I made my homemade cookies! Let me go fetch them.”
As Fiona went to the kitchen, Harry recalled that Hermione had told him that her mother made wonderful cookies, but he couldn’t remember when she had told him this precisely. Harry had a feeling that it was a happy time when she told him this little tidbit. Was it when he and Hermione had rode Buckbeak to save Sirius? Or was it after he had gotten out of the lake at the second task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament?
A moment later, Hermione’s mother returned with a platter piled high with chocolate chip cookies.
“I know cookies aren’t the best with wine, but they are my specialty,” Fiona declared proudly. She held the platter in front of Harry first and he took one. It was still warm.
“I just took them out of the oven,” Fiona informed Harry while she took the tray over to Hermione. “That way the cookies are at their best; all warm and gooey!’
Then it hit Harry; Hermione had informed him about the cookies just the other day while she was bouncing up and down on /’Harry, Jr.’/. She had heralded her mother’s cookies as being “warm and gooey” during sex! This revelation brought up the happy image of Hermione during that conversation in Harry’s mind; bouncing titties and all! Harry was remembering shagging Hermione in front of her parents! He was breaking the first rule of meeting your girlfriend’s parents; do /NOT/ think of your girlfriend naked – much less during intercourse – in front of her mother and father!
Harry tried desperately to block out the happy memory, but that just led to him recalling the incident in the broom cupboard. Tiny beads of sweat sprang up anew all over Harry’s face. He clamped his jaw tight in fear of letting the knowledge of how far the two of them had gone in their love.
“Now, I know I may be jumping the gun here, but have you two thought about children?” Fiona asked with a glow. Thankfully, she had not noticed Harry’s discomfort.
But Fiona’s question brought up a terrifying concept: had Hermione’s mum figured out that they had been practicing making babies? Harry felt very ill suddenly.
“Mother,” Hermione groaned out. “I’m only seventeen.”
“I know that, I was thinking years down the line. Perhaps after the two of you have careers,” Fiona corrected and she sat on the couch next to Richard. “I want grandbabies, but not just now.”
“Yes, but like you said; years from now,” Hermione said with a blush and Harry could see Richard become very uncomfortable and angry at the idea of his daughter having sex; even if it was to produce grandchildren. “Oh, that reminds me,” Hermione added. “Our friends are expecting a child soon.”
“Really, who?” Fiona asked.
“Remus and Tonks.”
“When are they due?”
“In a few weeks,” Hermione answered. “Which seems strange at first because they got pregnant just the other day when Harry and I tricked them into doing a ritual we found in a book.” Hermione chuckled at the memory of the prank. “We didn’t know it at the time, but the side effect of the ritual is that it accelerates the pregnancy so that it lasts only two months.”
“What kind of book would have such a ritual?” Fiona asked with obvious curiosity.
“A tantric book…” Hermione suddenly stopped and gulped in fear. It was clear that she had said more than she had intended.
Harry assumed that Fiona knew exactly what Hermione had meant when she used the word tantric by her expression. Her face was a mixture of anger and repulsion.
“Tantirc!” Fiona seethed. “A book on tantric rituals! Please tell me you haven’t practiced any?”
Hermione and Harry’s guilt-filled silence answered Fiona’s question.
Whereas Fiona clearly knew what the term tantric meant, it seemed Richard was a little behind.
“Tantric, I’ve heard that somewhere,” Richard spoke aloud. “Isn’t that the thing Sting does?”
“Yes it’s the thing Sting does!” Fiona hissed. “And it seems that it also happens to be the thing your daughter does as well!”
Richard shot a surprised and angry look directly at Harry before saying in a soft, yet baleful voice; “You touched my princess?”
“I cannot believe you had sex, young lady!” Fiona screeched.
“Mum, you just got through asking if we planned on having children!” Hermione shot back.
“Well, I didn’t think that you’d be practicing so early on in your relationship!”
As mother and daughter argued, Harry was fearful of Richard. The older man had his hands balled into fists on his lap and he was visibly shaking. Harry wondered for a brief moment if he was going to have to Stun Hermione’s dad.
“Mum, I’ve known Harry for six years,” Hermione countered. “Don’t tell me you and dad waited that long before having sex!”
“It’s not the same thing, young lady! You father and I were already out of university and had our own practices when we met.!” Fiona shouted. “We were more mature when we had sex for the first time than you are now!”
Richard stood and Harry began reaching for his wand. He hoped that Hermione would forgive him for using magic on her dad.
“Mature?” Hermione asked. “How is the fact that Harry and I have slept together a sign of a lack of maturity?”
“You touched my princess!” growled Richard.
“You are far too young for such a relationship,” argued Fiona.
“Too young? How can you, of all people, say I am too young to have sex?” Hermione asked.
“Because I am your mother!”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t have given me you boarding school journals when I went off to Hogwarts,” Hermione said in a threatening tone.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Fiona demanded.
“The Tumbleweed Dance…” Hermione said cryptically. At first, Fiona looked confused by Hermione’s response, so Hermione added two names. “Jacob and Charlotte.”
Suddenly, Fiona’s red angry face turned pale and she took a calming breath.
“Richard, sit down,” Fiona commanded.
“But he touched my princess,” Richard contested. It was obvious that he so wanted to hurt the boy who deflowered his little girl.
“Hermione is an intelligent young lady who has a level head,” Fiona pointed out. It was obvious that Fiona was still upset over the ordeal, but she was forcing herself to get over it for some reason. “She wouldn’t just hop into bed with any boy. Besides, as she said, she has known Harry for six years.”
Hermione stood up and said in a calm and dispassionate voice, “I think it’s time we should be leaving.”
Harry stood up and moved behind his girlfriend for protection. Hermione might have derailed her mother’s anger, but her father was still a powder-keg waiting to blow. Hermione bid her parents good night and led Harry out of the house.
Hermione and Harry used the Portkey to return to Hogwarts and as they walked to the castle, Harry asked “What was that all about?”
“What, my dad or my mum?” she asked.
“Your dad I understood. He made it very clear that he didn’t like the idea of me touching /’his princess’/,” Harry replied. “What did you say to your mother to make her stop her rant? Who are Jacob and Charlotte.?”
“Oh, that,” a bemused smile appeared on her face. “I was a little nervous when I was about to go to Hogwarts,” explained Hermione. “You know, first time away from home and whatnot. So my mum gave me her journals that she had kept back when she went off to boarding school. She said that seeing that she had gone through similar things, that it would help calm my nerves.
“I noticed that some of her entries were in code,” Hermione continued. “I wasn’t able to break the code until third year – which should tell you how difficult the code was to crack. I found out that they were mostly entries about boys and crushes.”
“So why did she freak out when you mentioned that dance?” asked Harry.
“Let’s just say that I got my kinky hair from my dad,” Hermione answered. “Everything else kinky about me came from my mum.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“My mum did…” Hermione paused, trying to find the right words. “She did something inappropriate at the dance with a boy and a girl… at the same time.”
Harry stopped dead in his tracks.
“A three-way?” he blurted out. “Your mother was in a three-way?”
“She was young,” justified Hermione. “And it was the Seventies.”
A warm glowing feeling passed though Harry. Hermione had just admitted two things. First, she joked that she got her wild and kinky behavior from her mother. And second, she admitted that her mother was in a threesome! Hermione had just inadvertently hinted that she might want to add someone their little sex-romps!
“Don’t get any idea about someone joining us, Potter,” Hermione scolded, deciphering his look. “I’m a one wizard witch.”
“Who said anything about a wizard,” Harry said happily.
Hermione looked at Harry with her eyes bugged for two full seconds before saying; “Looks like someone will be sleeping alone tonight.”
True to her word, Harry spent the night alone in his room. She was so angry with him that Harry doubted that she would be inclined to wake him up the way she did that morning ever again.
To Be Continued

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Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor
Chapter Twenty-One: School work and oral exams
Disclaimer: Not mine, I own nothing. I’m not making any money.
WARNING: Harsh Language, adult themes, sexual situations (i.e. smut), bad spelling and grammar.
Author’s Notes: This story is a broad farce with over the top humor (a good deal of it is crude and sexual) and OOC actions (that’s Out Of Character if you don’t know). Also, this is my first smut-ish fic. If you don’t like sex and sex-based humor, do NOT read this!
Chapter Twenty-One: Term starts and Harry’s workload bogs him down. Thankfully a friend gives him an idea on how to relieve his stress.
The first few days of term were very stressful for Harry, to say the least. Every one of his instructors started their lessons by reiterating the fact that the seventh year students would be taking the aptly named N.E.W.T.’s in the near future. Each warned the students that this year would be particularly difficult. The professors gave a hint at just how difficult the year would be when they gave out their first assignments. Slughorn’s assignment required the students to read four lengthy chapters focusing on eight potions. The students then had to write four feet of parchment on each potion by the end of the week. McGonagall warned her students that they would have to master human transfiguration by end of the lesson on Friday. Even the usually jolly Sprout was deadly serious as she informed her students that they would be pruning the treacherous “Tithwillow Sponge-Shrub” causing a fair a number of Harry’s fellow students to shiver in fear.
The only classes that didn’t immediately overload Harry were Charms and DADA. Flitwick informed his class they would be mastering the difficult Patronus Charm. Our hero smiled triumphantly when Flitwick announced this assignment to the class with the ego-boosting comment of: “If you are having difficulty with the charm, you can talk with Mr. Potter, as he has already mastered it.”
But Harry’s pride was knocked down a little as the little professor continued: “Also, if you are concerned that you cannot focus on a happy enough thought required to cast a Patronus, take heart. I personally know of an Auror by the name of Nymphadora Tonks who was able to cast a wonderful Patronus even while being in a lasting and severe bout of depression. Clearly, if a severely depressed witch can successfully perform the charm, than it isn’t as hard as your peers, teachers, family, and politicians may have told you.”
The workload in DADA was even less than Charms. In fact, there was no workload whatsoever. When Harry and his fellow students walked into the classroom, they found this year’s instructor, a wizard by the name of Herbert Johnson-Thames, sitting behind his desk with his nose buried in a book. He didn’t bother to look up and greet the class as they entered. Nor did he even make a single sound acknowledging their presence. Hermione tried to get a response out of the wizard by walking up to the professor’s desk and introducing herself – of course she had to point out that she was Head Girl; she earned that right and she was going to do it, by Merlin. But apparently the fact that the Head Girl had just introduced herself to Johnson-Thames did not impress him. The wizard continued to stare directly at his book and disregard her existence.
Harry was starting to wonder if the professor was even alive. He hadn’t moved an inch, causing Harry to believe that Johnson-Thames must have had an aneurism right at the desk and died. But Harry’s speculation was dashed the moment the bell sounded and the professor began to read aloud from the lesson book.
“This year you … … higher spells and hexes in order to … yourself and others. Some of these spell … very difficult to … and many of you … … it incredibly difficult. But … not … . This incredibly informative book … … you how to … even the most difficult charm.”
On and on he went. He read in his odd broken way and still refused to look up from his book. Harry reckoned that Johnson-Thames must have been very nervous; that would explain the odd breaks as he spoke and why he wouldn’t look up. After about fifteen minutes of Johnson-Thames’ reading, the majority of the class began to fidget. Some of the students even began to do homework for other classes. Not that the professor seemed to care, he continued to read from the text.
“He’s just reading from the book?” Ron asked incredulously.
“It looks like McGonagall had to scrape the bottom of the barrel to get someone to teach Defense this year,” Harry sounded. “And all she could find was someone who can only read the book aloud.”
“Oh, he doing worse than just/ ‘only reading’/,” Hermione said with unhidden anger. “He’s reading the text, but for some reason, he’s skipping over all of the verbs.”
The bespectacled wizard was curious to see if his girlfriend was right. So Harry turned the pages in his book until he found the one that Johnson-Thames was reading from. Harry followed along as the professor read.
“For example, even a poorly … Shield Charm … effective against lower hexes and charms like Jelly-Legs. But a low powered Stun Hex … easily … through a poorly … Shield Charm. If you … … how to … a Shield Charm correctly, you … as well not … it at all.”
Sure enough, Johnson-Thames was dropping every single verb.
“Maybe he was hit with some sort of jinx that makes you skip over verbs?” speculated Harry.
“Or he has a phobia,” Ron hypothesized. “You know, the thought of verbs terrifies him so much that he can’t bear to read them.”
“Or perhaps he’s just a blithering idiot,” Hermione said contemptuously. It was clear she had no respect for Johnson-Thames; the wizard was wasting valuable time where Hermione could be learning something new. The idea of missing out on learning simply made her blood boil.
When the bell rang announcing the end of the lesson, Johnson-Thames simply stopped reading. He didn’t even bother to look up. All of the students waited patiently for their assignments… and waited. But the professor refused to speak. Hermione was so upset that not only had Johnson-Thames wasted a double lesson, but he didn’t hand out any homework either that she stomped to her next lesson in a huff.
Despite the fact that Harry had already mastered his Charms work and there was no DADA work, the assignments for the other classes were heavy enough that even Hermione balked at the sheer size of it.
Added onto this workload, McGonagall held true to her word. The returning class this year was so small that the professors didn’t need to break up lessons between the lower years and were able to lump all of the Houses from each year into one class. This gave McGonagall and all the other professors a lot of free time. Free time that the Headmistress used to tutor Harry and his friends.
She had spent an extra three hours everyday with Harry and his friends going over how to use basic Transfiguration in battle. The Headmistress reasoned that basic transfiguration was easy for a seventh year like Harry, but it wasn’t so easy in battle while your enemy is trying to hex you. For the first two days, Harry spent hours and hours trying to transfigure a beetle into a button while Ron, Luna, and Hermione fired off hexes at the bespectacled youth. The exercise proved very difficult. Harry had a hard time focusing on the proper incantation and wand movements while ducking and dodging his friends’ various hexes. What added to the difficulty Harry faced when trying to concentrate on the incantation was the realization that it was an utterly useless transfiguration. After all, Harry wasn’t a big fan of learning in small steps. On Wednesday, Flitwick joined McGonagall and the duo trained Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Luna how to combine Charms and Transfiguration so that they could animate objects much like Dumbledore had done when he had fought against Voldemort in the Ministry of Magic (this at least Harry found to have immediate and intrinsic benefits).
Harry’s stress was increased even further by his duties as Head Boy. Every night, he and Hermione had to patrol the halls of the castle after curfew, making sure no students were sneaking about. Every once in a while, he would see one of the Aurors that were assigned to protect Hogwarts. It felt good having the extra security.
By the fourth day, all the extra work made Harry look exhausted. His hair was a mess/ – more so than usual – and he had heavy bags under his eyes caused by lack of sleep. However, he was better off than his girlfriend. Hermione’s hair was a mess – more so than usual – /and she, too, had heavy bags under her eyes. But Harry was better off than Hermione in one aspect: he could sit down properly. Even though it had been four days since the Welcoming Feast, Hermione was still sore from the four-in-a-row shag-fest she and Harry had that night. The poor girl still had a noticeable limp. Of course, she had an ear-to-ear smile that accompanied that limp, so she wasn’t complaining.
One thing that made Harry’s days a little better was that he shared the same bed with Hermione. Mind you, they didn’t have sex because she was still sore (and he was too damn tired to perform), but it was still nice to simply cuddle and then wake up next to the woman he loved every morning.
Friday night, as Hermione patrolled the west wing looking for any students out past curfew, Harry searched the east wing, he came across Tonks’ friend and Auror-trainee, Courtney. She bounded up to the raven haired wizard and gave him a hug in greeting.
“Hiya, Courtney,” Harry said. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, this is my class’ week to patrol the castle,” she answered. “I’ve been stationed on the grounds since I got here. But this is the first time I’ve gotten the assignment to come inside. I haven’t been in here since I graduated; it feels so weird.”
“So how’s Tonks?” asked Harry.
“She’s as huge as a house and absolutely gorgeous,” Courtney answered with a big grin. “Tonks and Remus are so effing happy it’s contagious. She’s due any second now, thanks to that prank you and Hermione pulled.”
“That’s great,” Harry said with a smile.
The two began to walk down the hall and they continued their conversation.
“Oh, by the way, did anyone find out why those Death Eaters were trying to kidnap the girls from the train?” Harry asked. “Was it for a dark ritual or some form of blackmail plot against the Ministry?”
“Actually, we found out something very interesting when the prisoners were interrogated,” Courtney answered. “The girls weren’t nabbed for a ritual or for blackmail. The prisoners confirmed that You-Know-Who had no idea about the attack. Which makes sense; if he did know of the attack, he would’ve sent more than just a few of his followers.”
“Then why did they attack?” asked Harry.
“Well, according to the prisoners, You-Know-Who does a little contest every year to boost morale in his followers; it’s called/ ‘Little Miss Death Eater’,” /the Auror in training explained. “It’s basically a talent show for the Death Eaters’ daughters. The winner’s family gets a hundred galleons and a private dinner with He Who Must Not Be Named.
“Apparently, the Death Eaters who were involved in the attack on the train either didn’t have any daughters of their own, or their daughters were so ugly and untalented that they didn’t stand a chance in the competition,” Courtney continued. “These Death Eaters were so eager for their Master’s praise that they concocted a plan to kidnap a bunch of girls from the Hogwarts’ Express and pass them off as their own daughters.”
“You’re kidding,” Harry said. “They planned to kidnap children just so they could have dinner with Voldemort? They somehow found a way to break through the wards around the train and decided not to launch a full scale attack that would’ve devastated the Ministry and every witch and wizard in Great Britain. Instead, they just wanted to win a talent show?”
“Yep,” she responded. “No one ever accused Death Eaters of being the smartest bunch of people.
“Let’s change the subject to something more enjoyable than dim-witted Death Eaters,” Courtney continued. “So, have you and Hermione used all those toys I gave her?”
“Um… just two,” Harry admitted with a touch of embarrassment. He wasn’t ashamed that he and Hermione had only used two of the toys, but he was hesitant about speaking so openly about sex with Courtney.
“Which ones?” she asked. Harry didn’t immediately respond, so she gave him a playful pinch on his arm and asked again. “Which ones did you use?”
“The feather and the cuffs,” Harry said, blushing.
“Ooo, I’ve got to know; did she tie you up or did you tie her up?” Courtney asked with excitement.
“Well, she kind of tied herself up,” Harry said and felt his cheeks heat up even more.
“You mean you didn’t tie her up?” she asked.
“Well, she showed me the cuffs and told me to tap my wand on them,” he explained. “Then she told me to use the feather on her.”
“Does she tell you what to do a lot of the time? I mean when you’re being intimate?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Harry admitted. “She pretty much tells me what to do in those situations.” After a beat, he added, “Not that I mind.”
“Of course not. You’re a bloke,” Courtney commented. “But you’ve got to take the reins once in a while.”
“Excuse me?”
“You know,” Courtney continued. “Take control; be dominating once in a while.”
“What do you mean by ‘dominating’?”
/ /”Well, I’m not suggesting you tie her down and spank her…” Courtney paused dramatically before continuing. “Unless she likes that sort of thing.”
“But I like to… well, please Hermione,” Harry said, still a little shy about the topic of conversation. “She tells me what to do to make her… happy and that makes me happy, you know.”
“Yeah, it’s nice to have a girlfriend give you pointers; that way you don’t mess up,” Courtney agreed. “But it doesn’t hurt to just do it to please yourself every now and then. I mean, I’m sure if you made yourself happy, that it would please Hermione as well. Besides, most witches wouldn’t mind a wizard that takes control once in a while.”
“What would you suggest?”
“The next time you two are alone, push her on the bed and shag her rotten. Don’t light candles or play some romantic music, just tug on her hair and bang her brains out,” suggested the Auror in training. “Do something for yourself. Fulfill one of your fantasies. Have her dress up, maybe as a nun. Hell, I fulfilled my muggle-born boyfriend’s fantasy. I dressed in this weird bronze metal bikini, something he saw in a film once. Or if you want, just cum on her tits. Whatever floats your boat.”
Harry felt as if his face was on fire at Courtney’s comments. He tried to avert his eyes, but it was too late.
“You want to titty-shag her!” she exclaimed, correctly interpreting Harry’s increased discomfort. He looked around in a mild panic, worried that someone had overheard her statement. Apparently, Harry’s embarrassment only made Courtney want to rib him even further. “You want to wedge your willy between her boobs and cum on her, don’t you?”
What Harry wanted right that moment was to run away and hide; he was beyond embarrassed by Courtney’s comments. The forwardness of the witch caught him completely off guard.
“Then you should do it,” the rambunctious witch demanded. “Mount her chest and use her jugs to wank off.”
“I can’t ask her to do that,” Harry said, imaging the mortified look on Hermione’s face at the mere suggestion.
“If she has a problem with it, just tell her to lie back and enjoy the show,” Courtney argued.
“I… I dunno,” Harry said doubtfully.
“You’ll never know if you don’t try,” Courtney said, giving Harry a pat on the shoulder. “Well I’m off. Have fun with Hermione. Remember, if she’s really opposed to giving you a titty-shag, have her give you a hummer while she’s dressed up in a costume. It really can be fun!”
/As Courtney walked away humming an oddly aggressive marching tune (a tune that seemed somehow familiar to Harry; perhaps it was done by that John Williams fellow that Hermione had mentioned), /Harry pondered over her suggestions. Besides his fear of Hermione being appalled over the notion of a titty-shag, Harry doubted it could work in a practical sense. He wasn’t overly endowed and although, Hermione’s breasts were a nice handful (very nice handful at that), Harry doubted that they could get that particular fantasy to work properly. He’d imagined for that act to work that he’d need to be hung like a hippogriff and Hermione would have to be closer to Luna’s prestigious (and slightly overbearing) size.
But one thing that Courtney suggested struck a cord inside Harry;/ “Have her dress up…” /He remembered that Hermione had discussed the notion of “Role-Playing” with him when Luna used polyjuice to make love with Ron. Harry hadn’t given it much thought, but now that Courtney brought it up, it started to intrigue him. The idea of dressing up and acting like different people began to sound raunchy and exciting.
As Harry walked back to his and Hermione’s room, his mind wandered over different scenarios. Should he dress up as a criminal and Hermione as a cop who decides to interrogate criminal-Harry in new and fascinating ways? Or should they play a particularly naughty version of/ ‘Doctor’ (not that ‘playing Doctor’ /has been anything other than naughty)?
Then, like a bolt of inspiration, an image of pleated skirts entered his mind. Harry had the perfect idea! It would just take a little time to plan out and execute.
When he finally reached his room, he found Hermione already asleep and in bed. As he crawled into bed with his lover, his mind went over his plans.
*
Harry assumed that Hermione was no longer sore the next morning judging by how frisky she was. The moment he opened his eyes, the brunette witch pounced on him and began tickling him. Up until that moment, Harry hadn’t realized how ticklish he was. One could say that he was very ticklish, while others could argue that he was ridiculously ticklish and not be incorrect. While he was laughing, the raven hair wizard thrashed and tried to scoot away on the bed which led to an interesting occurrence. You see, Hermione wasn’t content with just tickling her boyfriend. No, she had to do so while completely naked. And all of Harry’s movements – the thrashing and scooting – caused his pajama bottom to be pulled down, thereby exposing his bits. And seeing how/ ‘Harry, Jr.’ /was not one to let an opportunity pass, the organ sprang to life. Within a few scant seconds of waking up, Harry found himself making love to Hermione… who was still tickling him incessantly… which just caused him to thrash about; an action which Hermione seemed to really enjoy.
It was a truly wonderful way to wake up. Maybe even better than the time she aroused Harry from his slumber with her skills in fellatio. At that particular moment, as Hermione simultaneously rode and tickled him, Harry couldn’t decide which one was the better way to wake up. Was it the tickle and shag or the straight forward blow-job? He reckoned, joyfully, that he needed to compare each of the two activities a few more times to make up his mind.
With all the jostling about, it didn’t take Harry too long to become a happy wizard. He was a little disappointed that he had reached his orgasm before Hermione did. But Hermione didn’t appear to be let down; she had a beautiful smile on her face as she leaned forward and whispered in Harry’s ear “Good morning.”
Hermione was being such a good sport about him finishing before her that Harry decided to return the favor and tickle her. He found that she wasn’t as sensitive as he was when he used the traditional and time honored technique of tickling (or at least, when not cuffed to the bed and being teased with a feather). So Harry tried a different style of tickling on a very sensitive area on his lover which brought out a very positive response out of Hermione. In other words; he finger banged her.
After all, she hadn’t orgasmed before he finished. And it was his duty and privilege as her boyfriend to make her satisfied. After she cried out in passion, it was Harry’s turn to whisper “Good morning.”
After cuddling for a few minutes, Hermione got up to take a shower. As his girlfriend washed up, Harry snuck out of the bedroom. He had to find Dobby so that the house-elf could help him. When Harry entered the outer chamber, he found Dobby about to enter the small door leading to his room.
“Hey Dobby,” Harry called out while walking up to the house-elf.
Dobby rapidly shut the door leading into his room. Before the door closed, Harry caught a glimpse of a number of shelves on the back wall of Dobby’s room. He also noticed a number of tiny glass vials filled with some kind of silver liquid placed on the shelves before the door closed.
“Yes, Harry Potter sir?” Dobby asked. The tiny creature’s voice was a little more nervous than normal, but Harry brushed it aside.
“Could you do me a favor?” Harry asked and the house-elf nearly cried with happiness at the thought of being able to help the black haired wizard.
“Anythings for you, Harry Potter sir,” Dobby squeaked.
“I need you to transfigure that bedroom,” Harry pointed to the spare room. “And I need you to create some costumes.”
Harry could’ve easily transfigured the room and conjured the necessary clothing himself. But he still wasn’t used to his heightened power and he was worried that he would mess it up and ruin it.
“What do’s you be wanting it transfigured into, sir?”
Harry spent the next fifteen minutes giving Dobby very precise instructions. He ended the conversation with another request: “Hermione can’t know about it, okay?”
The house-elf nodded his head emphatically.
Harry returned to his and Hermione’s room just in time for his girlfriend to step out of the shower. Her skin was still wet and he fought the urge to lick up her excess moisture. He wanted to save his energy for later that night. After Harry showered and dressed, he and Hermione went to the Great Hall for breakfast.
They found Ron and Luna already at the table waiting for them. A short while after they arrived, Ginny entered the Great Hall with Neville at her side. The two sat on opposite sides of the table a dozen feet away from Harry, Hermione, Luna, and Ron. Neville and Ginny didn’t even bother putting food on their plates. Instead, they began speaking to one another.
“What the hell does Neville think he’s doing?” Ron asked with his mouth full of partially chewed food. Tiny bits of his breakfast sprayed in Neville’s direction.
“He’s talking to your sister,” Luna stated. “And don’t speak with your mouth full, dear.”
“That’s not just ‘talking’,” Ron accused, dribbling some scrabbled eggs out of his mouth. “He’d wouldn’t be leaning over the table is he was just ‘talking’.”
Usually, Ron wasn’t the most observant person in the world. But Harry noticed that his red haired friend was spot on in his observation this time. Neville and Ginny were leaning over their empty plates and speaking softly to each other.
“He should watch it,” Ron threatened in between bites of kipper. “He’d better not touch my sister.”
“Why not? Many wizards have touched her before he came along,” Hermione commented under her breath so that only Harry could hear her. Harry almost choked on his juice as he fought back laughter.
Ron was, as usual, overreacting. Harry could tell by their body language that Ginny and Neville hadn’t done anything intimate. There was a nervousness about the two that gave Harry the impression that they hadn’t done much besides talk. Of course that same nervousness told Harry that both Neville and Ginny wanted to do more than talk, but each was hesitant. Harry could understand Neville’s hesitation; the young wizard was still coming out of his shyness. Ginny, on the other hand, made Harry wonder. He had her pegged as the type of witch that would just take what she wanted – much like she had tried to do when she molested him a few weeks before. Her actions during Harry’s sixth year and what she did over the summer was such a drastic change from the shy girl he knew before. For the first few years that Harry knew her, Ginny was just as shy as Neville was.
But as he watched Ginny and Neville talk, Harry came to realize something. Perhaps Ginny had acted so strangely over the past year or so as some sort of overcompensation against her shyness. Maybe she felt the need to act like a “scarlet woman” to quell her natural timidity. She could have thought that boys wouldn’t pay attention to a timid girl like her so she re-sculpted herself as a free spirit (read: slut).
Harry speculated that Ginny changed herself because she believed that other people wouldn’t like her for who she was. She must’ve felt that no one would understand her. But with Neville, another person who was just as shy, Ginny could be herself. Perhaps that’s why she hadn’t tried to molest Neville… yet.
“Did he just touch her hand?” Ron spat and began to stand up. It was clear that he wanted to stomp over to Neville and pummel him for touching his sister. Thankfully, Luna restrained her husband and forced him to sit back down.
“So what if Neville and Ginny are dating,” Harry stated. “Good for them.”
“That’s not your sister,” Ron hissed. “I have to protect her virtue!”
“You’re a little too late for that,” murmured Hermione.
“What was that?” Ron snapped.
“I said ‘you don’t have to worry about that’,” Hermione lied. “Neville’s a gentleman. He proved it when he took Ginny to the Yule Ball. And he risked his own safety trying to protect her from Draco’s thugs at the end of our fifth year. He’d never take advantage of Ginny.”
“Besides, after what happened to you and me, Ginny knows better than to go too far,” Luna pointed out. “If she did, Molly would pounce on her and force her to marry Neville.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Ron huffed.
“So you two, what are your plans today?” Luna asked Harry and Hermione.
Harry fought the urge to happily announce/ “Hermione’s not sore anymore!” /but wisely held his tongue. Such a statement would be inappropriate and would lead to another dry-spell.
“Well, I’m going to the library to study a bit,” Hermione answered. “We’re going over spell and ritual creation in Arithmancy and I want to do some work outside of the classroom.”
As she spoke, Hermione gave Harry her patented lustful and longing look. It gave him the impression that she had an itch that she wanted to scratch and had made up the story about going to the library and studying so that their friends wouldn’t know that she and Harry were going to spend the day shagging.
However, Harry must’ve misinterpreted Hermione’s look. Instead of sneaking away to make love after breakfast, Hermione led Harry to the library to study.
He was a little taken back at his mistake. He was positive that she had just given him her “shag me eyes” and he had seen them enough recently to spot them. How he mistook that look was a mystery to him. To perplex the young wizard even further, every once in a while, as Hermione read tome after tome and took very detailed notes, she would look up at him and give him that same look.
Perhaps she was trying to give him clues that she wanted to be naughty and do it in the library. Seeing how it was early Saturday morning, there were no other students around. Harry reckoned that he could do the deed without alerting Pince, the librarian. But when Harry started to kiss her, Hermione gently brushed him away.
“Not now, Harry,” she whispered with her eyes dark with lust. “I’m busy.”
“Then why are you giving me that look?” he asked.
“What look?”
“Your/ ‘come shag me’ /look,” Harry answered.
“I have a/ ‘come shag me’ /look?” she asked incredulously.
To prove his point, Harry conjured a simple hand held mirror (of course his power boost had made the mirror less simple and more ornate with jewels and intricate carvings, but he was gaining more control. When he first got his boost, he would’ve created a wall of mirrors). He held the mirror in front of his girlfriend’s face.
After examining her now mostly-green eyes, Hermione agreed; “So that’s my/ ‘come shag me’ /look.”
“Yes and you’ve been giving it to me since breakfast,” Harry pointed out.
“I’m sorry I’ve been giving you mixed signals, Harry,” Hermione apologized. “It’s just that I’ve been thinking about sex while I’m studying.”
“Okay, so let’s push these books off of the table and take care of that,” Harry suggested.
“Harry, I’ve been thinking about sex, not wanting to have sex,” Hermione clarified.
“There’s a difference?” Harry asked, completely stumped. To him, and most every male in the world, there wasn’t a difference between/ “thinking about sex” /and /”wanting to have sex.” /The two were synonymous concepts: one couldn’t think about sex and not want to do it, it just wasn’t done.
“I was going to wait to tell you what I’m doing, to see if my theories were possible first. But I’ve been studying to see if we can create new tantric rituals of our own,” explained Hermione.
“New ones? Like what?” he asked.
“Well, I believe we can make an intelligence boosting ritual. But the effects would only last a day or so. Also, I think we can do protection rituals, but it would be complex,” she stated.
“Complex in what way?” Harry asked.
“We would need to do some exercises and serious stretches before we attempt some of them or we’ll hurt ourselves,” Hermione proved her point by showing a crude drawing of two stick figures intertwined she had made sometime during her research. Harry idly noticed that Hermione’s artistic talent wasn’t that far from Gryffindor’s.
“What’s that circle thing?” he asked pointing at the drawing.
“That’s my head,” she said.
“And that circle?” he asked and pointed at another shape.
“That’s your head,” Hermione explained.
“But it looks like I’m facing away from you,” Harry pointed out.
“Yes, the upper part of your body will be turned, facing away from me,” Hermione confirmed. “Like I said; we’ll have to do some stretches before we can do these.”
“Wow,” Harry uttered as he memorized the drawing.
Hermione spent the rest of the day in the library taking voluminous notes. Harry acted as her assistant; running to fetch one book on magical theory or another. They only paused in their activities for lunch and dinner.
After supper, Harry and Hermione headed back to their rooms. Each of them was carrying a large stack of books and notes. When they entered the outer chamber, Harry saw Dobby waiting by his miniature door. The house-elf gave Harry a thumbs up signal.
Harry quickly deposited his stack in the room he and Hermione shared before dashing back to the outer chamber.
“It’s be done, Harry Potter sir,” Dobby said happily.
“Fantastic!” Harry heralded. “Do you have the costumes?”
“Yes, sir,” he squeaked.
“Great,” Harry said before rushing to one of the desks and jotting down a note. It stated:
“Hermione,
Put this on and meet me in the other room.
Love,
Harry.”
/ /He handed the note to Dobby and said “Give this, along with the girl’s costume, to Hermione, please.”
With a bright smile on his face, Dobby nodded his head and walked into the Bedroom.
Harry went into the other room and was pleased with Dobby’s work. It was almost an exact replica of one of the castle’s classrooms. A large chalkboard was on one wall and a large professor’s desk was placed in front of it. But unlike most classrooms, there was only one desk for the student.
Harry quickly stripped naked and donned his professor’s costume (a long black robe with a pointy black wizard’s hat). Once he was dressed, Harry took his seat behind the professor’s desk and opened one of the drawers. He was happy to see the object lying in the drawer just as he requested of Dobby. Harry came to the conclusion that he’d have to reward the house-elf for such a bang-up job.
A few minutes later, Hermione walked into the “classroom.” Much to Harry’s pleasure, she was wearing the outfit Dobby had made (or given Dobby’s… unique hobby, Harry hoped that Dobby had created the outfit instead of pilfering it from some schoolgirl). Hermione was wearing polished penny-loafers with knee high white socks. His eyes slowly traveled up to her blue Bedford checked pleated skirt which accentuated her lovely legs. Of course, the skirt accentuated her legs simply because of its length. Or lack thereof. The modified schoolgirl skirt barely covered Hermione’s cheeks. The light blue blouse, adorned with an unfamiliar white horse logo, was also undersized, as displayed by the amount of bare midriff and the tension on the buttons. Hermione’s bra-less state was confirmed by ‘Natasha’ and ‘Carmella’ standing at firm attention for roll call; Harry knew that the classroom couldn’t be that cold and assumed she was excited.
“Role-playing? How adventurous of you, Harry,” Hermione said with a smile. “I’m very proud.”
“Take your seat, Miss Granger,” Harry said with a chuckle. It felt odd and funny for him to refer to Hermione in such a forced and formal way.
“Yes, Professor Potter,” Hermione said with equal amusement.
“Did you forget your homework again, Miss Granger?” Harry asked after Hermione sat at her desk.
“Oh, please, Harry,” Hermione said. “Like I would forget my homework, of all people.”
“Hermione, stay in character,” Harry ordered. “You’re a bad student who forgot her homework and needs to be punished.”
“Punished how?” Hermione asked, her curiosity clearly piqued.
Instead of answering her, Harry opened his desk drawer and withdrew the small wooden paddle that Hermione had gotten from Courtney. He held the toy up in the air for Hermione to see.
“Oooo, a spanking,” Hermione cooed. “Wait a moment; let me get into character properly.”
The brunette witch pulled out her wand and waved it over her head. Her kinky hair sprang to life and began to move. A part formed in the middle of her head and her hair was pulled into two bushy pigtails on either side of her head. Her new hairstyle added with her undersized school uniform made Harry’s heart race. The whole idea of a professor seducing a student was so taboo and it excited Harry, even if it was just make believe.
“Okay, I’m ready,” she announced. “Ask me about my homework again.”
“Where’s your homework, Miss Granger?” he asked again with an overly forced sternness.
“I’m really sorry, Professor,” Hermione responded with fake sadness. “I worked on it so hard last night that my fingers got numb. I swear I finished it. But when I got up this morning, I found out that my cat ate it.”
“Miss Granger, that’s the fifth time you haven’t completed your work this month,” Harry chastised.
“Really… fifth time?” she asked, dropping out of character. “Am I that bad of a student?”
“Yes, you’re that bad,” Harry answered then went promptly back into character. “I’ve tried to convince you that you need to do your homework time and time again. And still you continue to fail. What should I do with such a terrible student?”
“Not another spanking, sir,” she pretended to plead. Even though she tried to act scared of punishment, it was evident in her voice that Hermione was more than eager for a paddling.
Harry got out of his chair and stood next to the large desk. While holding the paddle in his right hand, he pointed at his desk with his left and commanded: “Assume the position.”
Hermione walked up to the desk with a frown and her head held low in shame. Of course she couldn’t hide the happy bounce to her step. She may have been the smartest witch of their generation, but she was a dreadful actor.
The brunette witch bent over so that she was half lying on the desk and her feet were still on the ground. This position caused her too-short skirt to hitch up even further on her bum. As he examined her scarcely covered bottom, Harry hoped that Dobby had in fact created the costume. If the house-elf didn’t, that meant a preteen school girl somewhere in Great Britain was missing her school uniform because Dobby stole it.
Harry focused on his girlfriend’s bottom and started slowly by giving gentle swats to her posterior. The first five spanks were soft and light. But then he began to pick up the pace and the force. In a matter of moments, the paddle was flying and smacking her (barely) skirt covered bottom. Hermione squealed joyously as her bum jiggled and shook from the blows.
After a minute or two, Harry hoisted up her skirt to reveal her red and heated bottom. Her white knickers were visibly damp around her flower. He gently peeled off her knickers and discarded them. Once her bum was exposed, Harry returned to paddling her. The wooden toy made loud smacking sounds as it struck her unprotected skin. Hermione was moaning and purring with pleasure.
Obviously, Harry was so aroused by Hermione’s naked bottom and the eliciting sounds she was making. /’Harry, Jr.’ /was standing proudly under his robe.
Harry placed the paddle down and walked over to the side of the desk so that he was standing in front of Hermione’s face. He gestured to the bulge in the front of his robes and scolded: “Look at what you have done, Miss Granger. Get on your knees and take care of this.”
/”‘Take care of this’?” /Hermione asked with a snort of laughter. “Did you get that line from a porno?”
“Yes, a very bad porno that had the audacity to try to have an actual plot,” Harry said. “Now take care of it.”
“Yes, Professor.”
Hermione hopped off the desk and knelt in front of Harry. The raven haired wizard quickly pulled his robe off and tossed it to the side. Amazingly enough, his tall pointy hat remained on his head somehow so that he was standing in front of Hermione completely naked save for that silly hat.
The witch licked her lips before opening her mouth and swallowing his organ. As she bobbed back and forth, Harry acted on a naughty compulsion; he grabbed hold of her pigtails. He wondered idly as he held onto her pigtails as if they were handlebars if Courtney had been speaking literally or figuratively when she had told him that he should/ “take the reins once in a while.”/
A few moments later, Harry ordered “Lie on the desk, Miss Granger.”
He helped Hermione stand and then guided her onto the desk. He was a gentleman after all even if he was playing a stern professor. Harry crawled up on the desk and kissed her neck while he unbuttoned her blouse. Slowly, he trailed kisses down her neck, over the swell of her breasts, down her tummy, until he got to her skirt. With one swift motion, Harry tugged the pleated skirt off and Hermione squealed in surprise.
Before she got a chance to react, Harry dove at her flower. Once again, he easily activated his parselmouth magic and tapped into his love core and began to eat her out.
“Oh… oh… yes Harry,” Hermione moaned out.
“No, that is not the proper manner to address me, Miss Granger,” Harry sternly informed her after effortlessly switching to English. “Call me ‘Professor Potter’,”
“I’m so sorry, Professor Potter,” Hermione pled. “Please, Professor, please lick me.”
Satisfied that Hermione had returned to character, Harry triggered his special ability and returned to his cunnilingus. He lapped, licked and suckled on every centimeter of her flower. The witch was flowing in no time. He continued to stimulate her even after she cried out and flooded his mouth. Her fingernails scraped against his scalp when she grabbed fistfuls of his hair and knocked off his hat.
“M-mo-more,” Hermione panted. “I… n-n-need m-more. W-want you inside… Professor, p-p-lease. I’m a b- bad student. I need more… I… I w-w-want you inside… Please.”
Harry ignored her pleas and continued to work his magic on her flower. He kept his hands busy by gently massaging her red and swollen bottom. Hermione was groaning as he twirled his tongue inside her. A few moments later another orgasm struck Hermione.
Now Harry reckoned it was time. He once again crawled on top of his girlfriend and gently pushed his way into her. She purred into his ear, “Yes, Professor, I’m a bad student… teach me how to be good.”
“That sounds like it came from a bad porno,” Harry commented.
“Is there such a thing as a good porno?” Hermione asked rhetorically.
The two shared a chuckle and Harry began to move. Hermione wrapped her legs around his waist as Harry took her hands in his.
Another wicked thought occurred to Harry as he slowly pumped. He remembered when he used Pleasure Pressure Points on Hermione and accidentally brought her to orgasm during Bill and Fleur’s wedding and he felt devilishly compelled to repeat his actions. While still sliding back and forth, Harry began to rub his thumb on the back of Hermione’s hand.
Much like his skill had grown with activating his parseltongue abilities, Harry had become more adept at tapping into his love core since the first time he used Pleasure Pressure Points on Hermione. In fact, he had reached into his love core quicker and deeper than he had at Bill and Fleur’s wedding. It was so powerful that Hermione climaxed a few seconds after Harry began applying his magic to her.
But she did not call out her usual phrase of “SWEET BABY MEAVE!” when she climaxed. No, this time Hermione shouted “THAT’S CHEATING!” when she erupted.
Harry paused and let his girlfriend ride out her ecstasy. After she had caught her breath, he asked in a jovial way “I’m sorry, would you like for me to stop /’cheating’, /as you put it?
“Hell no!” she growled. “Keep doing that. Cheat some more!”
“Call me/ ‘Professor Potter’ /again and I’ll see what I can do,” Harry said roguishly.
“Please, make me cum, Professor Potter,” purred Hermione.
“Oh, that’ll work,” he said before he continued to make love to Hermione and use the Pleasure Pressure Points on her.
If someone were to walk by the room that Harry and Hermione were using, they would’ve assumed that a wild beast was being held against its will and was struggling violently versus the chains that bound it. In other words, Hermione was literally howling she was in so much pleasure.
Just as he was about to become a happy wizard, Harry stopped.
“What’s… wrong?” Hermione panted. “You… didn’t… finish… yet…”
“I… ah… well…” stammered Harry. He was trying to tell her about his fantasy. But his fear and doubt was holding him back. “I… want… to…. um…”
“Harry, what is it?” Hermione asked, her voice full of concern. “What do you want?”
“Well…” despite his best effort, Harry couldn’t bring himself to vocalize his thoughts. So instead, he reached forward and gently pushed Hermione’s breasts together, hoping that she’d get the clue.
“You want to play with my titties?” she asked.
“Sort of,” he said nervously.
“Harry, you can tell me anything,” she said sweetly. “I won’t get mad.”
“You promise?”
“Of course I do,” she replied.
“Well, I kind of want to use your boobs… in a special way…” he said vaguely.
Cocking her eyebrow, Hermione speculated “You want to wedge your penis in between my breasts?”
“Yes,” Harry admitted weakly.
Hermione chewed on her lip for a second before saying “Why not.”
“Really?”
“Yes, why not,” Hermione added while still panting slightly. “I’ve had more than my share of fun today… thanks to your ‘cheating’. Why not let you do something for yourself. Beside, I hear semen is good for the skin; tightens the pores. Not that I’m planning on replacing my moisturizer with your seminal fluid. That would just be wrong.”
Harry barely contained his happy laughter as he crawled up Hermione’s body. He knelt so that his knees were on either side of her ribcage. Hermione then pushed her breasts together and enveloped his penis. Much to his ecstatic surprise, Harry’s assumptions of not being able to do the act due to Hermione’s smaller breasts and his average size were proved false. He awkwardly began sliding back and forth. Harry had been so close before he stopped that he didn’t last long. In just a few moments, Harry came.
Hermione squealed when his white goo shot out from in between her titties. His seed landed on her neck and chin. The brunette witch smiled as she made a show of rubbing the mess into her skin. An act that held Harry’s interest for quite some time.
“Did you like that?” Hermione asked after Harry curled up against her. Her eyes were so full of love that Harry had to smile.
“Yeah,” Harry breathed out. “I did.”
“Good,” Hermione cooed and she cuddled even closer to her lover. “I’m glad I made you happy.”
To Be Continued
Author’s Notes: Thanks to Ultimate Auror for helping with some of the dialog in this chapter.

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Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor
Chapter Twelve: Typical First Date Jitters
Disclamer: Not mine, I own nothing. I’m not making any money
WARNING: Harsh Language, adult themes, sexual situations (i.e. smut), bad spelling and grammar.
Author’s Notes: This story is a broad farce with over the top humor (a good deal of it is crude and sexual) and OOC actions (that’s Out Of Character if you don’t know). Also, this is my first smut-ish fic. If you don’t like sex and sex-based humor, do NOT read this!
Chapter Twelve Summary: Harry receives some letters. And Ron goes on a date. Taking his recent luck with witches into consideration, what will go horribly wrong with the date?
The day after the trio destroyed the Horcrux-cup, Harry, Hermione, and Ron were sitting in the empty Great Hall eating breakfast and discussing the possible locations of the other relics.
“One down and four to go, including Voldemort,” Hermione said while checking off “Hufflepuff’s cup” from the list she had laid out next to her morning meal.
“Which one do we go after next?” asked Ron with his mouth full of kippers.
“If any,” Harry began after swallowing his food, “we should find the locket. That one shouldn’t have any sort of traps around it. The other Horcruxes will most likely have a bunch of wards and traps around them, if the fake locket’s placement was any indicator. And the last one is Voldemort himself; we have to save him for last.”
“Well, it should be easy enough to retrieve the locket,” stated Hermione. “All we have to do is get Borgin to tell us who he sold to locket to, and then simply convince the new owner to give it to us.”
“Oh, yeah; real easy,” Ron said snidely. “I can see Borgin just giving us that information.”
“We’ll just have to come up with a plan, won’t we?” Hermione replied.
“Let’s hope you come up with a better idea than /’Hi I’m Draco’s girlfriend; could you tell me what he was talking to you about?’/” Harry said sarcastically causing Hermione to blush at the memory.
“That one wasn’t one of your better plans,” Ron added.
“I… I was pressed for time,” Hermione weakly defended.
/”‘Pressed for time’/?” Harry prodded. “This coming from the witch who formulated a very complex plan to trap an unregistered aninamagus reporter and then blackmailed her into not writing for a year unless it was beneficial to us.”
“And let’s not forget,” Ron added, “that you were able to tell a lie, and a fairly convincing one at that, to explain why Harry and me were in the girls’ bathroom fighting that troll right there on the spot.”
“Let’s talk about the unknown Horcrux or the missing one, shall we?” Hermione said rapidly, obviously hoping to change subjects from her unusual behavior and actions from the previous year.
“Fine then, spoil our fun,” kidded Ron.
“The Horcrux were able to find but unable to identify is under the orphanage where Riddle grew up,” explained Hermione. “We couldn’t see what it was in our vision since it was covered. Whatever it is, it mostly is another relic, probably either Ravenclaw or Gryffindor.”
“What does it matter?” asked Ron. “We know where it is; why should we care which founder it belonged to. Let’s just go, get it, and cut it up.”
“Good point,” agreed Hermione. “Let’s move onto the missing Horcrux-”
“It’s me,” interrupted Harry. During Hermione and Ron’s short conversation on the orphanage-Horcrux, Harry’s blood had run cold.
“It’s you?” asked Ron.
“Yeah. When we did the ritual, the first thing I saw was my body lying on the bed,” Harry explained sadly. “That means I must be the missing Horcrux.”
Ron dropped his head as Harry’s words sunk in. However, Hermione was smiling brightly, as if her boyfriend hadn’t just implied that he would need to sacrifice himself to kill Voldemort.
“And how did Voldemort make you a Horcrux?” Hermione asked calmly.
“It was probably an accident when he killed my mum,” snapped Harry. He didn’t like that his girlfriend was taking this revelation so lightly.
“So when Voldemort killed your mother, he accidentally removed a fragment of his own soul and placed it into you,” Hermione repeated. “All it takes to make a Horcrux is to kill someone?”
“I dunno,” Harry responded with bitterness.
“So you’re saying that Voldemort has only killed six people in his life,” continued Hermione.
“What? Are you crazy?” hollered Ron. “He’s killed loads of people!”
“Yeah, Dumbledore even said that he killed enough people to make an army of Infiri,” added Harry. He was a bit perplexed by Hermione’s statement; how could she think that Voldemort, the most feared Dark Wizard of their time only killed six people?
“But you said that he accidentally made you a Horcrux when he killed Lily,” explained Hermione. “If making a Horcrux was as simple as killing someone, he’d have a lot more than just seven Horcruxes if we including his own body.”
“What do you mean?” a very confused Harry asked.
“I don’t know how a Horcrux is created, but there must be a very complex spell or ritual needed,” explained Hermione. “Think of it; if creating a Horcrux was as simple as using a Killing Curse, Voldemort would have divided up his soul hundreds of times. If it was that easy, every single Death Eater would have dozens of Horcruxes themselves. No, there has to be some sort of complex ritual associated with it. Otherwise, every single Dark Wizard in history would have had scores of Horcruxes, wouldn’t they?”
“But that doesn’t explain why our spirits were just floating over our bodies when we did that ‘locate missing items’ ritual,” Harry argued.
“Harry, when we were just floating up there, what exactly were you focused on?” asked Hermione. “Was it the Horcruxes?”
Harry paused and tried to remember what he was thinking of when he and Hermione’s spirits had been hovering in mid-air. After a second of silence, Hermione crossed her arms across her chest. However, she didn’t cross them in her usual manner. Normally, when she crossed her arms, Hermione would place them around the middle of her chest. But this time, she placed her arms across the lower part of her chest, causing her arms to push up her wondrous mounds. Harry immediately lost his train of thought and simply stared at her boobs with his mouth open.
They were such lovely things, all round, soft, and warm. They also had ‘Carmella’ and ‘Natasha’ on them which Harry so enjoy playing with. His mouth began to water at just the thought of fondling her breasts and caressing them while he placed gentle kisses on her flesh.
“You were focused on her tits?” Ron asked, noticing Harry’s stare. Apparently, Harry had become so mesmerized by Hermione’s boobs, and Hermione had enjoyed teasing Harry so much, that a good amount of time had passed since Hermione had posed her question.
Harry shot up – he had hunched over the table in an attempt to get closer to Hermione’s boobs- and Hermione dropped her arms. Both of them were blushing madly. Ron chuckled at his friends’ embarrassment and picked up another kipper.
“Ahem, anyway…” Hermione continued as if she hadn’t just partially fondled her own breasts to arouse her boyfriend in front of her platonic friend. “You weren’t focused on the Horcruxes at the time, so we were just in a sort of holding pattern, if you will. Once we both concentrated on the actual items, we started the search.”
“But that still doesn’t make sense,” added Harry. “We only found four of them.”
Hermione worried her lip and thought for a moment before stating; “Maybe we’ll have to do the ritual again and check our findin-”
“OKAY!” Harry shouted gleefully. Any opportunity to frolic with Hermione was good enough for Harry. He shot out of his chair and offered, “How about now? Let’s do it now!”
With a look, Hermione indicated Ron, who was looking at the couple as if they were very strange and that he didn’t really understand them. The thought of Hermione’s delicate hands wrapped around ‘Harry, Jr.’ enticed Harry so much that he had forgotten about Ron. With a shrug of her shoulders, Hermione told Harry that she couldn’t do the ritual and give him a hand-job (which was significantly more important than the ritual in Harry’s mind) if Ron was around. In a split second, Harry came up with an ingenious plan that couldn’t fail. He would definitely get that hand-job now!
“Do you want to fly my Firebolt?” Harry asked Ron much like someone would ask a dog if they wanted a bone. The Ron/dog analogy was further strengthened when Ron sat up in his chair with his tongue practically hanging out of his mouth in anticipation. “Do you?” repeated Harry. “Do you?”
In response, Ron nodded his head rapidly and passionately. Harry figured if his friend had a tail, it would’ve been wagging back and forth right then.
“Then, go get it!” Harry said and pointed in the general direction of the Gryffindor Tower and his Firebolt.
Ron sprinted out of his chair and ran full tilt out of the Great Hall. The gangly teenager fell twice, tripping on his large feet before he made it successfully out of the Hall.
“Well, I guess we can do the ritual now,” Hermione said with a bemused smile and a glow to her cheeks.
“What ritual?” asked Harry. He had gotten rid of Ron so that Hermione could play with – “Oh, yeah, right, the ritual,” finished Harry as he finally remembered that there was a ritual that required Hermione to give him a hand-job.
“You know, I’ll have to find a ritual that has you give me pleasure,” stated Hermione as she stood up.
Harry closed his eyes and imagined a snake before saying in Parsletongue, “I thought I already found one?”
Hermione shivered at Harry’s hissing words. She composed herself and conceded, “Well, there is that one.”
Harry held out his hand and Hermione took it. But before they could head off to a secluded area, Hedwig flew into the Great Hall.
“Oh, here comes Luna’s reply,” Hermione said as Hedwig landed in front of Harry. “Do you mind if we read this before we do the ritual?”
“No… not at all,” Harry responded, forcing the little voice in his head that demanded “//HAND//- //JOB/ //NOW//!”/ to the back of his mind. “Knowing Ron, he’ll be on the Firebolt until dinner.”
Hermione smiled at Harry and removed the post from Hedwig’s leg and read aloud.
“Dear Hermione,
I would so love to meet with you. I will be at my father’s printing press shop (the barn behind our house) later today. Please stop by whenever you can. Just use the floo and say The Quibbler.
Luna”
/”That’s great,” announced Harry. “We’ll head there right after the ha… ritual,” Harry had to fight to say /”ritual” instead of “hand-job.”
/ /”I’m certain all you care about is using the ritual to locate the Horcruxes,” joked Hermione. It was obvious that she knew what Harry’s slip truly meant.
“Of course I am,” Harry said. “If there was another way to find the locations of the Horcruxes besides the ha… the ritual, I would do it.”
“That’s good, because I found another ritual the other day that doesn’t require us to get naked or even touch each other. It was in an innocent book in the library,” Hermione said and began to stroll out of the Great Hall.
It was like someone had slapped Harry hard in the face. Here he was, all happy about getting a hand-job, he had even devised a plan to get Ron out of the way, but now he wasn’t going to get it. Harry felt very, very sad. He looked after his girlfriend with his mouth opening and closing mutely, as he tried to force himself to tell her that he wasn’t serious about doing any other ritual besides the one that included a hand-job. But he was too sad to even speak.
“I’m just kidding, you know,” Hermione said with a naughty grin.
Harry was offended; how could she do this to him! Tempt him with a hand-job and then take it away, then to claim that she was joking. He had half a mind to give a good talking to her about teasing him…
Then, for the third time in Harry’s memory, Hermione licked her hand, and that same half of a mind that wanted to chastise her suddenly started making very faint mewing sounds.
“Here, boy, do you wanna play?” Hermione playfully asked. Apparently, she too thought that Harry had treated Ron like a dog and decided to give Harry a taste of his own medicine. “Do you want little Hermione to give you a hand-job? Do you?” she mocked.
Of course, Harry really didn’t care that his girlfriend was pretending that he was a dog. All he cared about was the offered hand-job. He skipped like a school boy over to Hermione. She gently patted his groin with her now damp hand and said, “You do want one don’t you?”
“Damn right I do,” Harry replied with absolutely no shame.
“Have you been a good boy?” she asked. Harry detected a hint of/ “naughty-Hermione”/ in both her tone and her eyes, so he figured that he would reply in a manner that “naughty-Hermione” should appreciate.
“Hell no,” he breathed. “I’ve been bad.”
“Really? Just how bad?” Hermione inquired and began to rub ‘Harry, Jr.’ through his trousers.
“V-v-very,” Harry answered while simultaneously gulping and squeaking.
Hermione got up on her toes and took Harry’s lower lip between her teeth and growled as she playfully tugged at his mouth and gave his crotch a proper squeeze. ‘Harry, Jr.’ sprang to life and begged Harry to do the ha… the ritual right there at the Gryffindor table so that it could play right now.
Stroking his length through his trousers, Hermione let go of Harry’s lip and purred; “You are a bad boy, aren’t you?” The mixed look of love, lust, and desire in her eyes made Harry almost climax right there in his boxers.
Harry considered agreeing to ‘Harry, Jr.’ and do the ha… the ritual right at the Gryffindor table, but he realized that even though Ron was preoccupied, many other people could walk in on them (including McGonagall, who had already witnessed the pre-show a few days before due to Hermione’s behavior under the effects of the super-Cheering Charm). So Harry had to force himself to wait just a little longer for the ha… the ritual. But that didn’t mean he had to walk slowly to his room. No, he had every intention of grabbing Hermione’s hand and running, much like Ron had, out of the Great Hall. Though he planned on not tripping as much as Ron did.
The fully aroused wizard grabbed the naughty witch’s hand (her free one mind you; the one rubbing ‘Harry, Jr.’ could stay right where it was) and turned to the doors leading out of the Great Hall. The pressure in his trousers and the need to have Hermione’s hands on his naked flesh was intense that he didn’t think he could wait for the time it took to make it to the Common Room; so he opted to head toward a nearby broom closet.
Readying himself for his run, Harry took two steps and stopped when he saw a flock of owls fly in. Nearly a dozen owls, all different shapes, sizes, and colors swooped in and landed all around Harry and Hermione (except for one; one of the smallest owls Harry had ever seen – even smaller than Pigwidgeon – landed on his trouser-encased erect organ like a perch). This was not the time to have a bunch of owls land around Harry; he needed to get the ha… the ritual. Not that he cared about finding the Horcruxes. To hell with that! He wanted to cum… and hopefully it wouldn’t get in Hermione’s eyes this time. Harry was about to jump over the ring of birds (and knock the one off of /’Harry, Jr.’/) and drag Hermione behind him when all the owls stuck a leg out at Harry; offering him the different posts. Every one of the envelopes and scrolls was addressed to him.
“What the hell?” Harry asked no one in particular. He had never gotten this much post at one time in his whole life and here was ten letters just for him. Each one was written in a different hand, two or three look feminine while the others were definitely masculine. Hermione reached for the post attached to the small owl on Harry (after she retrieved the letter, she shooed the bird off of Harry’s organ and he could’ve sworn he heard his girlfriend mutter to the owl /”Get off of that; it’s mine!”/). She unfolded the letter, which Harry assumed was from a woman judging by the style it was written, and began to read aloud;
“My Lovely Potter,
I went there to kill you, for your actions against my lord and master. I had hated you but you showed me nothing but love. When I’m released from this prison, I shall find you and repay you with the most tender and loving of kisses.
With eternal Love;
Persephone Cucumber-Smythe”
/ /”What the hell is this!” Hermione exclaimed and tossed the paper away. “It’s a love letter.”
“So?” replied Harry. He wasn’t really paying attention to the letters; no, his main focus was the soon to be occurring ha… ritual.
“It’s a love letter from one of the Death Eaters who attacked us,” explained Hermione as she reached down and grabbed another post. This one was obviously written by a man. It was still elegantly written, but it definitely lacked the woman’s touch;
“Dearest Potter,
/ I know you only have eyes for Draco…” /Hermione began to read aloud.
“Hey!” objected Harry.
“…but perhaps, just maybe, you’ll be able to find a place in your heart for another dark wizard.
I want to feel your breath on my-”
/Then Hermione abruptly stopped, turned very pale, and silently crumpled the parchment up. Harry had no idea what the next word in the letter was but he knew by Hermione’s reaction that it was bad. /’Harry, Jr.’ was also starting to get scared; that is to say the raging hard-on that had been threatening to rip Harry’s trousers open subsided slightly.
But curiosity got the better of our hero and Harry grabbed another post. This time, Harry could tell it was from a rather uneducated man because, whereas the previous letters were written with elegant joined letters, this one was written by an obvious brute of a man. It looked like he had held the quill in his fist much like a toddler would hold a crayon. With more than a little difficulty, Harry was able to read it;
“Potter,
I want to plow into you bum. Make you my wizard.
Edgars.”
/ /Harry dropped the offending piece of parchment and completely lost the last remains of his erection. “How… what… why… to me?” Harry babbled incoherently.
“It must be you love-based magic,” stated a still pale faced Hermione. “When you hit them with your super-Stunner, they must’ve felt love, just like Ron said.”
Bile crept up Harry’s throat; he had no idea that his powers could affect people in such a way. Would every single Death Eater that Harry fought fall in love with him? If so, how could he fight his enemies without them coming on to him later? Those thoughts made his head spin and his body cold. He felt as if he was about to faint – he’d been doing that a lot lately/./
/ /But, the moment that Harry started to get tunnel vision, the posts began to change color. They changed from their off-white parchment to the familiar bright red of a Howler. Faster than Harry could react, all the now red posts blew up and the thunderous laughter of two people filled the Great Hall. While Hermione and Harry vainly tried to block out the loud laughter, Harry was able to recognize one of the two voices emanating from the Howlers. He wasn’t able to recognize the male at first, but he was able to guess to whom it belonged if only because he could tell that the female voice belonged to a certain pink haired witch.
“Remus and Tonks,” Harry growled.
The laughter ended and the male voice started to speak;
“I wish I could be there to see the look on you face Harry,” Remus Lupin’s voice sounded. “I’m sure it’s very similar to the way Hermione looked when she read that pamphlet at the reception.”
“Love power,” Tonks snorted in the background. Harry suddenly remembered that she had been in McGonagall’s office the day before. She must have overheard their discussion on whether or not the Death Eaters that Harry had stunned had felt love.
“Now, we’ll be waiting for your retaliation,” taunted Remus’ voice. “But I’ll have to warn you; the two of you – or three if you include Ron – will have to step it up and come up with a better idea than /’let’s spike their tea’/. I’m a Marauder after all.”
And with that, the voice of Remus and the laughter of Tonks ended.
Harry could feel a vein in his temple throb with rage and he could see Hermione’s eye twitch angrily. It was bad enough that Remus and Tonks had made him think that a number of burly Death Eaters wanted to bugger him, but what really bothered him was that there would be no way now that Hermione was going to be in the mood to give Harry a hand-job. She was obviously too angry to do it anymore (Harry was upset as well, but he was a teenaged wizard and he, by nature of being a teenaged wizard, was always in the mood for any form of activity where he got to be nude with his girlfriend, regardless of his mood). So, not only did Remus and Tonks make him believe that he would lose his virtue to a big, hairy Death Eater (other than Bellatrix), they, and this was the most important fact in Harry’s mind, took away an opportunity for a hand-job.
For that, they would pay!
*
Having lost the desire to give /’Harry, Jr.’ /a nice long handshake, Hermione suggested that she and Harry go to Luna’s and see if she’d be willing to go on a date with Ron. As Harry and Hermione made their way to the Headmistress’ office to use the floo, a thought occurred to Harry. He found it very ironic that he and his girlfriend were trying to hook Ron up on a date with Luna when he and Hermione had never actually gone on a date themselves. He voiced his observations to Hermione who paused.
“Well then we’ll just have to treat this as a double date,” Hermione concluded after a second of thinking. “A first date for both couples.”
Hermione walked up the moving staircase and entered the office with Harry right behind her. She moved to the fireplace and threw some floo powder in. After stepping in, she announced “The Quibbler!” and disappeared.
Harry followed Hermione through the floo… and promptly crashed onto the floor. Hermione had learned from Ron’s mistake of trying to catch Harry and had wisely decided to step out of Harry’s path.
“Hullo,” Luna greeted them while Harry stood and brushed the soot off of his robes. “Welcome to the Quibbler.”
“Hello Luna,” both Harry and Hermione returned the greeting.
“I’m sorry I can’t show you the printing press at work,” Luna said and gestured to a large contraption behind her that had a number of bells and whistles on it – literally. The press had dozens of bells of various sizes and several steam whistles, whatever purposes they served, Harry couldn’t even begin to imagine. “But Daddy and Neville are off on a fact finding mission in Burma, and the press is down until they come back.”
“Your father and Neville?” Harry asked with a bit of apprehension. He remembered that Luna and Neville had spent a good amount of time together last year. Harry was now wondering just how close the two of them had gotten.
“Oh yes,” Luna glowed. “Neville’s so knowledgeable about plants. He went along to find out what kinds of vegetation Snorkacks eat.”
“Really?” Hermione asked with fake sincerity. She, too, just realized that their plan to get Luna to date Ron may be moot, because it was starting to look like she was already with Neville. “Um… tell me, Luna, um… are you, well, seeing anyone?” Hermione asked nervously.
Luna stared at Hermione with her big blue eyes for a full second then blinked slowly and stared at her again for another two seconds before she answered. “I’m sorry, Hermione, but I’m not a lesbian,” Luna said. Harry and Hermione stared at the blonde witch in shock. Apparently, Luna misinterpreted Hermione’s question as a come on; Luna thought that Hermione was hitting on her. “But if I did play for the other team, you’d be the third or fourth witch I’d want to bed,” Luna concluded.
“That’s not what I meant,” Hermione blurted out, her shock apparent on her face. But then, as if someone had flicked a switch, Hermione’s expression changed from shock to outrage. “‘Third or fourth’?” Hermione screeched in offence. She began to examine herself as if there was something wrong with the way she looked. Harry could’ve told her that wasn’t the case, seeing as she was absolutely perfect in his eyes. “It’s my tits, isn’t it?” she asked nervously. “They’re too small…”
“Personally, I love them,” Harry whispered in her ear. He was very tempted to show her how much he loved her boobs right then and there in front of Luna by giving them a squeeze.
“I figure that if I were gay, I’d be a big butch fan,” admitted Luna. “I’d reckon that mullets would be attractive.” After a moment of internal musing, Luna concluded, “Yes, I imagine that if I were indeed gay, that my lovers would have to have mullets; it’s such a unique hairstyle after all.”
Hermione pouted and Harry wondered who the two or three other witches were that Luna had placed before Hermione.
“You misunderstood me,” Hermione began again, forcing herself past the awkward situation and to focus on the task at hand. “I was wondering if you and Neville were an item.”
“No,” Luna replied simply and continued to stare at Hermione for a good three seconds before continuing. “But why would you like to know that? Oh, you want to set me up for a date. Did you want to set me up on a date with Harry?” she asked as if Harry wasn’t standing right behind Hermione.
“No,” Hermione said defensively, placing her hand on Harry’s hip as if to say he was her property – which was the case. “We were wondering if you would be interested in going on a date with Ron.”
Harry could tell that Luna was in fact very interested. Her entire face lit up, a cute little smile graced her lips, and her eyes twinkled. She shyly pushed a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear and said, “Yes, I would like that. Very much.”
“Brilliant!” exclaimed Hermione. “Would you mind if Harry and I go on a double date with the two of you? It’ll be the first date for all of us.”
“That would be nice,” Luna said with a glow to her cheeks.
“Now, I have to warn you,” Hermione stated. “Ron has had some problems lately…”
“What kind of problems?” Luna asked with genuine concern.
“Scary girl problems,” Harry said cryptically and shuddered at the memory of Bellatrix’s incredibly hairiness, the off handed comment Mrs. Weasley made regarding how to aim, and the nude wrestling match featuring his own sister.
“Oh,” the blonde witch muttered.
“But I have a plan that’ll help Ron forget his problems,” Hermione added. “But we just wanted you to know, in case he acts a little strange at first.”
“I happen to like strange,” Luna said and her cute little smile grew.
“How about meeting at the Leaky Cauldron tomorrow night, around five in the evening?” suggested Hermione.
“I’ll see you then,” Luna said and skipped away happily.
*
The next day, Hermione had shut herself in her room for the better part of the morning and afternoon. While Harry and Ron passed the time with a brutal game of chess (brutal for Harry that is) a pungent smell wafted down from the girl’s wing.
“What’s she doing up there?” inquired Ron after his Queen decided to show how superior it was by violating one of Harry’s Knights instead of simply smashing it. The horse-piece whinnied as Harry idly thought that Ron’s Queen must have believed herself to be Catherine the Great.
“I dunno,” replied Harry, in a mild state of shock, as he watched Ron’s Queen light up a tiny cigarette as it stood over Harry’s poor Knight. “Maybe she’s making a potion or something.”
At a quarter of five, Hermione finally walked down from her dorm and into the Common Room.
“Let’s go out for dinner tonight,” Hermione offered and tucked a glass vial into her robes.
“That’ll be great!” agreed Ron.
Harry eyed his girlfriend suspiciously. He believed that his speculation about her making a potion all day was true because of the vial she had in her robes and wondered what kind of potion it was. After Ron led the way out of the Common Room, Hermione gave Harry a wink and a sly grin.
“So, where should be go?” asked Ron when the trio entered McGonagall’s office.
“The Leaky Cauldron,” answered Hermione.
“That’s great,” Ron said gleefully. “I heard Tom’s making ice-cream now. I can’t wait to try some.”
“NO!” Hermione and Harry shouted in unison. The taste of Tom’s horrible ice-cream still sent shivers up their spines.
After using the floo to travel to the Cauldron, the three teens headed to an empty booth (that is after they picked Harry up off of the ground and repaired the table he had crashed into). But before they sat down, Hermione said, “There’s Tom. I have to speak to him for a second.”
Hermione approached the bald tavern man and spoke to him in a very animated way. She gestured back to the booth where Harry and Ron where sitting and pointed directly at Ron. She then handed Tom the glass vial and he nodded knowingly.
With a smile of accomplishment, Hermione returned to their table. Harry felt that she was putting on a show for some reason, but couldn’t tell why.
A very short while later, Tom showed up at the table and handed the friends three pints of butterbeer. Hermione pointed nonchalantly at Ron’s pint in a questioning way and Tom gave her a quick nod in response.
Before Harry could ask what his girlfriend was up to, Hermione raised her butterbeer and gave a toast. “Here’s to friends!” she announced.
Ron and Harry clinked their glasses with Hermione’s and drank to friendship. Harry set his pint down and noticed that Ron had downed half of his butterbeer in a single gulp; apparently Ron was thirsty.
Again, Harry was about to ask Hermione why she was acting in such a strange manner when she spoke up.
“Ron, we have a confession to make,” Hermione said in an undertone. “Harry and I have set you up on a blind date.”
“What? When?” Ron sputtered nervously.
“Tonight,” Hermione answered. “With Luna.”
“Looney!” Ron groaned.
“I thought you said that she grew on you?” Hermione said, upset that Ron was using that rude nickname.
“Yeah, she did,” Ron wrung his hands uneasily. “It’s just that with all the… problems I’ve been having lately, couldn’t you have set me up with the Patil twins instead?”
Hermione rolled her eyes in a disappointed way while Harry nodded his head, as if he were saying “See I told you.”
“Besides,” Ron continued. “I don’t think I’m up to dating just now.”
“Except if it was the Patil twins, right?” asked Harry.
“Oh, of course,” acknowledged Ron.
“It doesn’t matter if you’re not up to it,” Hermione stated, obviously trying her best to ignore Harry and Ron’s comments about twins. “I made a mild Lust potion earlier today, and I just had Tom pour it in your butterbeer.”
“What?” demanded Harry as Ron gulped anxiously and stared at his half-drunk pint.
“But this isn’t like that simple little potion that Ginny slipped me,” Hermione stated proudly. “No, I made this potion specifically keyed so that there would be an attraction between Luna and yourself, and only between you two. I knew that you’d probably have some difficulty with dating given your recent… adventures, so I decided to help you overcome them.”
“You spiked his drink with a Lust Potion?” Harry asked with shock.
Tiny beads of sweat popped up all over Ron’s brow.
“Just a mild one,” Hermione explained and discreetly gave Harry a wink. “It’s just going to help him along.”
Before Harry could think about what the wink meant, Luna Lovegood walked up to the table.
“Hullo, Ronald,” she said dreamily. Harry’s jaw dropped open as did Hermione’s. Luna had spent a lot of time making herself up for this date, and it showed. Her hair was tied up in a pretty bun and she had just a touch of eye-shadow that accentuated her blue eyes. She wore a baby blue robe and hugged her body and showed something that Harry had never noticed before about Luna.
She was stacked.
Apparently, Luna had always been previously dressing in unflattering robes that would hide her large breasts, but she had obviously chosen this set of robes to show them off. And boy did she ever.
“They’re huge,” Harry heard Hermione muttered and saw that his girlfriend’s eyes were fixed on Luna’s large mounds.
“H-h-h-hello Luna,” Ron squeaked as he looked into her eyes – and as mentioned before, when a bloke says he’s looking in a girl’s eyes, he means he’s looking at her boobs. Luna giggled and proudly shoved her chest up, causing both Harry and Ron to audibly gulp.
Luna sat down and greeted Harry and Hermione. “Hullo, you two.”
“Hi, Luna,” Harry returned the greeting, amazed at how Luna’s breasts rested on the table top. ‘How can such a small witch have such big boobs?’ Harry wondered internally. To him, it looked like someone had stuck two grapefruits to a twig.
“They’re huge,” Hermione repeated dazedly.
After a moment of silence, Ron was able to tear his eyes away from Luna’s orbs and look at her properly. He gulped and spoke softly to large-chested blonde. “Luna, I have to warn you about something. Hermione spiked my drink.”
“She spiked your drink? What with?” Luna asked with her eyebrows knitted.
“A Lust Potion; one that will work only between you and me. She says she did it to help me get over my nervousness,” explained Ron.
Luna eyed Ron’s tainted pint for a moment, and then suddenly picked up the glass and drank the remaining liquid in one gulp. She let out a soft belch as she set the empty glass down. “There now, both of us have had the Lust Potion, so we’re on a level playing field.”
Ron snorted and smiled shortly before Luna pounced on him. Their lips crashed into each other.
“Did you really spike the drink?” asked Harry in a near whisper, as he watched Ron and Luna go at it like a pair of crazed nymphomaniacs.
“No,” admitted Hermione in a similar volume, as she too watched the spectacle in front of her. “I remembered how you were able to trick Ron into believing that you slipped him the Felix Felicis last year, and how he truly believed he was lucky. I realized just how susceptible he is to suggestion…”
Hermione paused as Luna made a show of shoving her tongue down Ron’s throat.
“Then what were you doing all day?” Harry asked. “And that smell that was coming from your dorm-”
“I was just boiling some old socks today to give the impression that I was brewing a potion,” answered Hermione as she watched in shock. “Then just now, I asked Tom to throw away the useless vial, and, as part of a prank, to simply nod when I pointed at Ron.”
Ron paused in his ravishing of Luna’s lips to squeeze one of her overly large tits in his hand twice. Along with each squeeze, Ron made a childish noise.
“Honk-honk,” Ron said with glee.
“Did he…?” Hermione began, but was too shocked to continue.
“Yes, he just honked her tit,” Harry finished. “Twice.”
Luna apparently decided that her un-squeezed tit was jealous, so she reached up and repeated Ron’s performance on herself.
“Honk-honk,” Luna sounded causing Ron to giggle like a boy who was just given a sugar-quill to suck on. And apparently, the sugar-quill analogy was very appropriate, because Ron’s lips clamped onto Luna’s tit and began to suckle it through the cloth of her robes.
“I knew that Ron was vulnerable to suggestion,” Hermione murmured while Luna moaned passionately, “but I didn’t know Luna was just as bad.”
Harry looked around the Leaky Cauldron and was pleased to see that no one in the pub had noticed Ron and Luna’s actions yet. But it would only be a matter of time before they did. He was about to try and separate the two new lovers when Luna did something very unexpected, but not unfamiliar to Harry.
She licked her palm.
“Oh, no,” gasped Hermione, just as Luna shoved her wet hand in Ron’s trousers. Ron’s eyes crossed and he groaned happily as Luna obviously found her target.
“Let’s get out of here,” both Harry and Hermione blurted. They shot out of the booth and scurried to the fireplace and floo’ed back to Hogwarts while Luna and Ron continued to – ahem – get to know each other. Before Harry disappeared from the Leaky Cauldron, he could’ve sworn that he heard Ron grunt and Luna giggle.
“That didn’t take long,” Harry said and picked himself off of the ground in McGonagall’s office.
“What didn’t take long?” Hermione asked. Harry just gave her a knowing look in response. “He didn’t? So soon?”
“I didn’t last long the first time with you,” Harry defended his friend.
“You didn’t finish the first time with me,” corrected Hermione.
As the couple made their way out of the Headmistress’ office, Harry recalled that along with setting Ron up with Luna, Hermione also wanted this night to be their first date as well. This was supposed to be a special night for Hermione, her first date with him but it was already over. Suddenly, Harry realized that the night was still young and he had an idea as to how to continue their date. And by Merlin, he’d make it special for her.
Taking her hand, Harry led Hermione out of the office and down toward the entrance to the castle.
“Harry, where are we going?” Hermione asked. “The Common Room is in the other direction, and there’s something I need to do.”
“It can wait,” replied Harry.
“But-”
“Too bad,” Harry cut off her objections. “Tonight’s our first date.”
Without another word of objection, Hermione let Harry take her out of the castle and onto the grounds. The two walked on the shore of the lake, looking up at the stars and talked. Since they already knew everything about each other, there was no need to try and impress each other with stories about themselves. Some times they simply talked about how pretty the stars looked, and other times they didn’t even utter a sound; they just sat on the shore, holding each other in comfortable silence.
After a little over an hour, Harry and Hermione headed back to the castle.
“Do you think they’ll be okay?” asked Harry as the two lovers walked toward the Gryffindor Common Room.
“They should, seeing that Ron came before we left. They should come to their senses before anyone in the Leaky Cauldron catches them,” said Hermione. She then giggled and stated; “Can you imagine the look on Tom’s face if he realized that Luna was playing with Ron’s penis in one of his booths?”
Harry blushed and averted his eyes when Hermione said that word.
“Harry, are you okay?” Hermione asked when Harry turned his head.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Harry replied.
A wry smile crept across Hermione’s lips and she breathed in Harry’s ear; “Penis.”
“Gah,” Harry groaned and recoiled away from Hermione.
“Penis, Harry,” chuckled Hermione, and he flinched again. “Penis, penis, penis.”
“Stop saying that word,” Harry hissed.
“What word, Harry?” asked Hermione with mock innocence. “Penis?”
“Yes!”
“Why?”
“‘Cuz it’s a dirty word,” explained Harry.
“All right; let me say three things,” began Hermione as they continued their walk. “First; it isn’t a dirty word. Second, I seem to recall a positive reaction from you when I talked dirty to you when I was under the effects of your super-Cheering Charm, so I know you like it when I talk dirty. And thirdly, I’ve heard you say penis before.”
“Yeah, but only like /’Percy’s a penis’/,” corrected Harry.
“So you can’t say something like /’I really enjoy when Hermione plays with my penis’/?” inquired Hermione with a devilish smile.
Harry gulped and Hermione taunted; “C’mon Harry; say it.”
Harry really did want to say it because it was true. But he found that he couldn’t do it.
“Fine then, since you can’t say penis,” continued Hermione, “what do you call it?”
Harry felt his face burn with embarrassment.
“Perhaps /’Little Harry’/?” Hermione asked.
“Hermione, never use the word ‘little’ when talking about that/,” whined Harry. She obviously didn’t know the first law of masculinity: ‘Never use the world small, little, or tiny in the same sentence where referring to your bits.’/
“Okay, how about /’General Happy-Time’/? /’Mr. Happy Staff’/? /’Beef Bayonet’/? /’Love Wand’/? /’Slong’/? /’John Thomas’/? /’Wily; the One Eyed-Wizard’/? /’Todger’/?” Hermione charged on, “/’Tonsil Tickler’/? /’Mushroom Stamp’/? /’Skin Flute’/? /’Hooded Wizard’/?”
“/’Harry, Jr.’/” Harry admitted shamefully.
“Oh, ‘Harry, Jr.’ is it?” Hermione returned, obviously poking fun of Harry’s euphemism.
“Yes,” Harry hung his head. He knew it was a childish name and he was embarrassed that he had admitted it to Hermione.
“Let’s make a deal; if you can say ‘penis’ and not be embarrassed by it like a child,” Hermione began, “I’ll give you another /’birthday pres-‘/”
“PENIS!” shouted Harry. The memory of the infamous ‘birthday present’ gave him the courage to get past his childish fears. Of course, he had said the word “penis” so loud that every painting in the hallway woke up and stared at the wizard.
“How rude,” a painting of an old witch chastised.
“The manners of young people today,” a crumpled looking wizard commented.
“Now say; /’I want my penis in Hermione’s mouth,’/” commanded Hermione.
“What did she say?” the old witch asked in scandal. “Such an improper thing for a witch to-”
“Shut it, ya old bird,” the crumpled wizard barked. “This is getting interesting.
“I want my penis in Hermione’s mouth,” Harry repeated without a stutter, shutting out the chatter of the paintings.
“They way they’re talking, it would lead people to believe that they will do it right here in this very hall,” the old witch said in an appalled manner.
“We can only hope that they do,” the crumply wizard added.
Hermione bit her lip seductively and asked; “How bad do you want it?”
‘Harry, Jr.’ – no, Harry’s penis jumped up and begged. “Very much,” Harry groaned.
“No, Chosen One, do not be doing that!” a tiny voice squeaked from somewhere in the shadows.
“Not now!” hissed Harry.
“Who’s there?” asked Hermione as she scanned the hall around her.
Dozens of House-Elves skulked out of the shadows and stood in front of Hermione.
“Have you been following me?” asked the brunette witch.
“We’s is sorry, oh Great One,” one of the house-elves humbly admitted. “But we’s can’t be letting you’s do those nasty things with the One of the Mark.”
Two house-elves were even brave enough to stand between Harry and Hermione, as if to block them from coming too close to each other. Harry had to consider them to be brave, since he was about to kill the whole lot of them. If the house-elves succeeded in stopping Hermione and Harry from having fun, this would be the second time in two days he would have be denied his fun. First, Remus and Tonks’ joke stopped Hermione from giving Harry a hand-job, and now these effing elves were trying to stop her from giving Harry another ‘/birthday present/’!
“Oh, I understand,” Hermione said softly to the house elves. “You’re right; I’ve learned my lesson and won’t be touching the One of the Mark.”
Harry’s heart sank as relief washed over the house-elves; they had gotten their wish and Harry was denied a blow-job. Harry was positive that he was about to have a stroke. Not a little one either, it was going to one of the big ones, where he’d end up a drooling vegetable.
“Thank you’s, oh Great One,” one elf cried.
“No, thank you for stopping me from doing wrong,” Hermione said back. “But I need you to do me a favor,”
“Anything, oh Great One,” the elves all called out.
“I need you to go out into the world and tell your brethren that I have finally come,” Hermione said a little over-dramatically. Every single house-elf squealed in delight and disappeared with a pop. “Now that they’re out of the way… it’s time for your /present/.”
Harry felt his eyes well up with tears of relief and happiness. Hermione once again took Harry’s hand and headed off to the Gryffindor Tower. Harry paused when a sudden realization dawned upon him.
“What if Ron’s up there already?” he asked.
“Then we tell him to have a good night and retreat to the Common Room. After locking him in his dorm, of course,” offered Hermione. “Besides, even if he and Luna eventually realize that they were never exposed to a real Lust Potion, they would still talk for a bit and what not.”
The two young lovers passed the Fat Lady and climbed the stairs to Harry’s room and were overjoyed to see it empty. Hermione was right; apparently, Ron was still with Luna, which made Harry very happy. They wouldn’t have to tromp back down to the Common Room after all; he could play with Hermione without fear of interruption. Taking her in his arms, Harry devoured Hermione’s face with both big and small kisses.
“You are the most brilliant witch in the world,” Harry complimented his girlfriend with a kiss on her nose. “You had me scared there with the ‘I’ve seen the light’ bit with the House-Elves,” he finished by kissing her chin.
“Yeah, I figure that if we needed some alone time, all I’d have to do is tell them to pop out and spread the word,” Hermione stated as she pulled Harry’s shirt off.
“Brilliant,” Harry breathed in her ear and began to unbutton her blouse. He trailed kisses down her neck and onto the flesh in-between her breast while Hermione gave him a hand and unclasped her bra.
“You can show me how brilliant I am by kissing these,” Hermione replied and she cupped her boobs together. Harry happily complied. As his tongue played with /’Natasha’/, Hermione asked: “Would you find me more attractive if my titties were like Luna’s?”
Harry paused for a moment before answering. “Actually no, there is such a thing as too big. I mean I reckon that I’d get a sprained wrist playing with them,” he ended playfully. Harry waited a moment before continuing, in a completely open and earnest tone, “Besides, I’m in love with you, and not your boobs.”
“That’s the right answer,” Hermione cooed and Harry went back to playing with ‘Natasha.’
/ /”That’s not to say I don’t love your tits,” added Harry. “You see, I figure they’re a nice bonus that comes with loving you, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course not,” giggled Hermione and Harry went back to suckling ‘Carmella’ this time. A wicked compulsion overtook Harry, he reached up and cupped her fascinating mounds in his hands and gently squeezed them. That wasn’t the wicked compulsion though; the wicked part came when he made a certain now-familiar noise.
“Honk, honk” he sounded and Hermione’s face lit up in a most pleasing way and she giggled – which caused her boobs to jiggle in the most wonderful way. When his compulsion was satisfied, he returned to suckling her nubs.
After a few minutes where both teens somehow were able to shed the last fragments of their clothing while Harry’s mouth was still attached to Hermione’s breasts, the brunette witch announced; “Time for your /’birthday present.’/”
Hermione guided Harry so that he was sitting on his bed with his back against the headboard and she knelt in-between his legs. She took his organ lovingly into her hands and purred; “It’s time to see if my experiment has worked.”
“What experiment?” asked Harry while he ran his fingers through her soft hair.
“Remember back when I said that we can change the taste of your discharge by altering your diet? Well, that’s why I haven’t let you eat dairy or sweets,” explained Hermione.
Any resentment Harry might have felt over his forced change of diet disappeared the second that Hermione ran her tongue up the length of his manhood.
“Besides the scientific research to find out if I was able to change your taste,” continued Hermione, “I still have to thank you for that beautiful flower you gave me.”
With that, Hermione swallowed Harry’s organ. He stroked her cheek and asked; “You thought it was beautiful?”
To which Hermione hummed a “yes” sound. The humming sent a wave of pleasure over Harry. Hermione took that as her cue to start her wonderful humming again. Unfortunately for Harry’s psyche, she chose that same damned childish song that he couldn’t place from the first time she went down on him. Hermione had gotten to the second verse of the insipidly inane song when Harry couldn’t stand anymore.
“Stop, just stop,” commanded Harry.
Hermione raised herself off of Harry with a pop and asked; “What’s wrong? Am I not doing it right?”
“No, you’re fantastic. It’s just that bloody song you’re humming. Please stop that song,” he hissed. “I hate it! Anything else, just not that song!” Harry desperately wanted her to continue with her humming, but that song was driving him crazy.
“How can you not like /’The Good Ship L-‘/?” Hermione began to ask.
“How can anybody like it?” Harry snapped. “It’s a stupid song, that doesn’t make any sense.”
“Well, what would you like me to hum?” she asked with his erect and spit coated penis resting against her cheek.
“I dunno, How ’bout some movie theme,” suggested Harry.
“Maybe something from John Williams,” offered Hermione.
“Sure,” he replied. Harry didn’t know who this Williams bloke was, but as long as Hermione wasn’t humming that asinine song, he would be happy.
The tune that Hermione selected made Harry very happy indeed. It was a beautiful humming rendition of a song that seemed to have been written just for him; just for Harry Potter. A Harry Potter theme, if you will.
While Hermione continued to bob, suckle, and hum, Harry lovingly caressed her cheek and ran his fingers through her bushy hair. His heart was filled with so much love for Hermione, because she was doing this just to make him happy. He vowed to return the favor shortly; perhaps immediately after he was done.
As he was caressing her face, Hermione opened her jaw wide and shoved the tip of his manhood into her cheek so that it was creating a bump in her face. Harry got a thrill as he ran his fingers over that bump, simultaneously stroking his girlfriends flesh and his penis through her cheek.
After a while – again, Harry noted with pride that he was lasting longer and longer with each go – he felt the familiar pressure build up. “Hermione, I’m gonna cum,” he warned.
She formed a tight ring with her forefinger and thumb at the base of his shaft and pumped while she continued to slurp at his crown. Hermione looked up and the couple locked eyes. Harry grabbed his bed sheets and unloaded into his love’s mouth.
Hermione slurped as he came. After he was spent, she raised herself up and Harry could tell that his seed was in her mouth, as she had her cheeks puffed out slightly. She swirled the goo between her cheeks and had a scrutinizing look on her face, as if she was judging the fluid for taste, consistency, and style, much like a food critic would sample wine. But before she could swallow his load, the door to Harry’s room flew open with a bang and a very disheveled red-haired wizard came staggering in.
He looked as if he had been stampeded by Buckbeak; his pullover was half-tucked in, half out, his zipper was undone (the part of his pullover that was tucked in was sticking out like a fabric representation of his willy), his robe looked like it was torn in several places, and he was missing one of his shoes.
Harry and Hermione watched Ron stumble in with wide, horror filled eyes. Added to her comically wide eyes and puffed cheeks, a bit of Harry’s cum had seeped out of Hermione’s pursed lips and dribbled down her chin. Judging by Ron’s state; the date had either gone terribly wrong (he looked as if he was roughed up) or had been a smashing success (he looked as if he had been roughed up… but in a good way). Whatever way the date turned out, Harry reckoned that Ron wouldn’t want to see Harry and Hermione’s/ “after show.”/ Well, that and Harry didn’t want to have Ron see ‘Harry, Jr.’ all wet and sleepy. Something’s friends just shouldn’t share
Thankfully, the Powers-That-Be seemed to be on Harry and Hermione’s side for once. With his eyes shut, apparently out of sheer exhaustion, Ron careened past Harry’s bed (where he missed a spectacularly good view of Hermione’s round bottom Harry observed) and began to fall onto his own bed. Unfortunately, the red-haired wizard completely missed his bed by at least two feet and crashed with a thud onto the bare and hard floor. A low snoring sound told Harry that his friend was all right.
Harry turned to check on his girlfriend and he could tell that she was panicked by the idea that Ron would hop up at any second and shout “Brilliant job, Hermione! Can I watch while Harry goes down on you?” simply by the look on her face – that and the fact she hadn’t swallowed yet.
“Um, Hermione, he isn’t gonna wake up for hours,” Harry reassured. He knew for a fact that Ron was not going to wake up even if Harry placed an Exploding Snap card on his head – Harry knew this was certain since he had tried this tactic one night a few years back when he was very bored.
Hermione gulped and finally swallowed his load and then laughed nervously. “I thought we were caught,” she breathed out.
“Well, seeing pretty much how everybody else has walked in on us,” said Harry with a mischievous smile, “why not give Ron a show?”
“He is our best friend, after all,” Hermione put in, catching on to Harry’s joke.
“He could even cheer us on,” Harry added.
Hermione snorted and said in an imitation of Ron’s voice “Good job, Hermione, but focus more on that there.”
The two naked lovers sniggered as silently as they could. After regaining his composure, Harry pushed Hermione onto her back and she squealed “What are you doing?” in an undertone.
“Returning the favor,” Harry said simply.
“I was joking when I said he could watch,” Hermione said on the verge of panic.
“No you weren’t,” Harry said confidently as he crawled on top of Hermione. “You’re a naughty little witch who would get off on doing it while Ron’s asleep, just a few feet away.
“Besides, I know for a fact,” continued Harry. “Nothing will wake him up for hours. Trust me.”
Hermione’s panic slowly softened into embarrassment. With a blush, Hermione admitted, “All right, just this once though.”
With a triumphant chuckle, Harry began to lower himself so that his face was hovering over her flower. “But do not use you Parseltongue magic, just try it normally,” Hermione commanded. “I don’t want to scream and risk waking Ron up.”
“Your wisssh isss my command,” Harry hissed in Parseltongue and lowered his mouth on her petals.
With her voice full of a combination of fear of waking Ron up and overwhelming desire to have Harry eat her out, Hermione whimpered; “Oh, no.”
To Be Continued.

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Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor
Chapter Twenty: Train Rides and Mad Monkeys
Disclaimer: Not mine, I own nothing. I’m not making any money.
WARNING: Harsh Language, adult themes, sexual situations (i.e. smut), bad spelling and grammar.
Author’s Notes: This story is a broad farce with over the top humor (a good deal of it is crude and sexual) and OOC actions (that’s Out Of Character if you don’t know). Also, this is my first smut-ish fic. If you don’t like sex and sex-based humor, do NOT read this!
Chapter Twenty: Harry and Hermione face off against the Death Eater Threat and then face off against their dry spell.
“Awww…. Did we interrupt?” the Death Eater asked mockingly as he pointed at Harry’s crotch. Harry looked down at his lap and found/ ‘Harry, Jr.’ sleeping in the open air, oblivious to the danger around it. Of course, ‘Harry, Jr.’ /didn’t really give a damn about the danger. The organ was pleased as punch that it had finally gotten to play with Hermione after such a long dry spell and nothing else mattered. As quickly as he could, Harry stuffed his penis back into his trousers.
A scream sounded from somewhere on the train behind the Death Eater. It was clear that there had to be other Death Eaters throughout the train and that they were terrorizing the students. Somehow, they had broken through the various wards and protections around the train and were able to board it.
Two more Death Eaters stepped over the rubble that used to be the door and walked into the Head Compartment. With a growl, Hermione stood and boldly leveled her wand at the first Death Eater. Harry went to pull out his wand but found it missing. Looking around, he spotted it lying against the wall about four feet away. The wand must have popped out of his pocket and rolled away when the train came to a screeching halt.
“Ooooh, doesn’t she look mad,” one of the Death Eaters who had just entered said with fake fear. In all honesty, Harry wouldn’t have been surprised to see steam shoot out of Hermione’s ears she was so angry.
“Why is she so upset?” the third asked with no sincerity.
“It looked like the Boy Who Lived was about to shag her,” the first Death Eater informed his cohorts.
“But…. but I thought… isn’t Potter gay?” the second Death Eater asked in confusion.
“Yeah, he and that Malfoy boy are supposed to be an item,” the third voiced.
“Maybe she was trying to/ ‘convert’ /him,” the first offered.
“I’ll give you three seconds to leave,” Hermione threatened. Her voice was dripping with malice and her face was twisted in anger. Harry slowly inched his way toward his wand while the three Death Eaters had their attention on Hermione.
“My, oh my,” the first said lightly. “I was right; this little witch was about to try and sway the poof away from Malfoy with her feminine wiles.”
“One,” Hermione counted off.
“And she’s a little worked up over it isn’t she?” the second added.
“Deary, he’s a lost cause,” the third pointed out.
“Two,” continued Hermione.
“The boy obviously likes sausage,” the first stated.
“No box lunch for that one,” the second commented.
“Three,” Hermione said and then incanted the Stinging Hex: “Mordeo Acuo!”
/ /Normally, a Stinging Hex would be nothing more than a mild annoyance. But this would be the first time Hermione had cast this simple hex since she had performed the power boosting ritual with Harry. Needless to say, this (quite pleasurable to Harry) ritual would increase the effectiveness of the Hex. Added to this, Hermione was pointing her wand at someplace that could cause a lot of pain no matter how powerful the hex; the first Death Eater’s groin. Apparently, Hermione was quite irate that they had interrupted her and her selection of a target gave proof of her current mindset.
The Death Eater dropped to the floor clutching his bits and screamed. At first, his scream was manly; a deep, rumbling cry of pain. But very rapidly, the scream got higher and higher. It had gotten so high pitched that it hurt Harry’s ears and he reckoned that dogs all along the countryside were howling madly at the odd noise.
The two other Death Eaters looked in fear at their fallen comrade for a full three seconds. Then, in unison, they both looked at Hermione for one second. And finally they looked at their own crotches in dread before slowly backing out the ruined door.
“Sorry about the interruption, Miss,” the second Death Eater said with nervous politeness.
“Yes, please continue as if we were never here,” the third added with and equal amount of cordial fear. It was clear that neither of them wanted to suffer the same fate as the Death Eater who was still screaming shrilly on the floor. As they left the compartment, one of the retreating Death Eaters tried to make amends by magically repairing the ruined door.
“I’ll put up a/ ‘do not disturb’ sign up,/ for you two,” one stated through the door. “That way no one will bother you again.”
Another terrified scream filtered through the door and Harry shared a look with Hermione. Even though they both wanted to end their dry spell as soon as possible, they knew it would be wrong to do so when the other students were in trouble. /’Harry, Jr.’, /who had just woken up, was arguing that the students could handle things themselves. But Harry ignored his organ’s protest and fetched his wand.
Hopping over the injured Death Eater – who was now curled up in a tight ball while clinging to his… well, balls – Harry and Hermione dashed out of the Head Compartment. The first car they entered had two Death Eaters in it. Each villain had a young witch under each arm and Hermione quickly dispatched them with two powerful Stunners that sent the Death Eaters crashing into the wall. Harry quickly conjured some chains and bound the villains before heading further down the train.
In the next car, Harry found Ron and Luna – still polyjuiced to look like Hermione – tying up three more Death Eaters. Ron looked quiet upset as he tied up one Death Eater. As Harry and the real Hermione rushed passed their friends, Harry noticed that even though Ron and Luna were wearing their school robes, they were noticeably naked underneath. Unfortunately for Harry’s sake, he was also able to tell that Ron was still fully aroused. Harry guessed that the married couple only had enough time to do the deed twice, which just meant that Ron was just getting started, before they were attacked. The unfortunate interruption accounted for Ron’s temper.
The third car Harry and Hermione entered only contained frightened students huddled in various compartments. Some pointed toward the opposite end of the car and muttered, “They went that way.”
Glancing outside the window Harry noticed that the train had stopped on a bridge over a large valley and that the earth was a hundred feet below them. The Death Eaters must have chosen this spot for their attack because it ruled out any chance for the students to hop off the train and run away. The students were effectively trapped.
In the fourth car, Neville and Ginny were facing off against one Death Eater. Apparently, the villain had disarmed both Neville and Ginny. But being unarmed did not stop the two teenagers. Neville had a hold of the Death Eater’s collar and was throwing the villain back and forth between two walls. The Death Eater was bruised and bloodied and was shouting “OW! STOP IT!” repeatedly as he hit the walls. Ginny kept busy by occasionally slapping the Death Eater as Neville tossed him about.
“Harry, they’re trying to take the younger students,” Hermione announced as they rushed toward the last car. Harry had noticed that two more girls had been huddled next to Neville as he continued his violent and very physical assault on the Death Eater. He didn’t know why they wanted children, but Harry was determined to stop them.
When Harry and Hermione entered the final car, they found four Death Eaters attempting to mount brooms. Each one was carrying a bound first or second year. Harry quickly leveled his wand at the Death Eaters’ heads and shouted “Stupefy!” while focusing on his love for Hermione.
A red arc erupted from Harry’s wand and collided with three of the Death Eaters. Harry had aimed high in order to avoid hitting any of the girls, but he had missed the fourth thug. The fourth Death Eater hopped on his broom and started to take off. Hermione reacted quickly and hit him with a Stunner. The Death Eater pitched off his broom and landed on the steps but unfortunately, he dropped his hostage. Realizing that the girl was going to fall into the chasm below, Harry jumped out of the car and grabbed onto the girl’s hand as she started to plummet into the ravine.
“I’ve got you,” Harry grunted and pulled the screaming girl back onto the train. Once inside the train, the tiny girl grabbed onto Harry as if he was the only thing stopping her from falling to her death. She wrapped her arms around his chest and her legs around his waist and refused to let go.
Now that the immediate threat was over, Harry decided to check on his fellow students and the captured Death Eaters. He and Hermione went from car to car and they re-stunned the Death Eaters as they passed. The couple, as Head Boy and Girl, would also speak words of comfort to the most frightened students. It was fairly difficult for Harry to do this for two reasons. First, he wasn’t a wizard of many words and his idea of comforting the younger students was to say something along the lines of, “You’ll be okay.” Which really doesn’t work very well on a screaming eleven year old. The second thing that made his task difficult was that the girl Harry had rescued was still firmly wrapped around his body. He had to lumber from car to car with a first year clinging to his midsection.
A team of Aurors arrived shortly after Harry and his friends dealt with the Death Eaters. They told Harry that the Express stopped because the Death Eaters had removed several feet of rail further down the track. Then the villains had used various counter-charms to negate the protection around the train and entered.
The girl wrapped around Harry had still refused to let him go by the time the Aurors repaired the tracks and the train started its journey once again. This meant that even when the Death Eater threat had been neutralized, the prisoners had been removed, and the train continued on its trek to Hogwarts, Harry was not able to properly ravish Hermione. Harry was a patient man, but he hadn’t gotten a chance to play with Hermione for a while. Added to this, Harry felt strangely energized by the battle with the Death Eaters. He felt as if he had loads of extra energy that was demanding to be used. That, and he was literally hard as a rock. Harry considered for one short moment stunning the frightened girl so he could have his way with Hermione. But he begrudgingly realized that it would be bad to do such a thing to the poor girl.
When the Express had finally arrived at Hogsmeade station, Hagrid had to pry the girl off of Harry. Of course the girl just clamped onto Hagrid.
After he was freed of the girl, Harry eyed the Threstral drawn carts happily. Even though the ride to the castle was short, he and Hermione could perform what is colloquially known as a “quickie.” But alas, Harry’s plan was aborted again. Just as he started to kiss Hermione and fondle her breast through her robes, Neville, Ginny, Ron, and Luna piled into the cart after them.
“Isn’t there another cart you could’ve taken?” Hermione asked. It was clear that she too wanted to spend some time alone with Harry; even if it was just a/ “quickie.”/
“Did you see what Neville did?” Ginny said with a mixture of pride and excitement. “The Death Eater used a Disarming Hex on him. But that didn’t stop him, no! Neville just ran up to the ponce and punched him in the jaw!”
“That’s nice,” Harry murmured dispassionately. He was happy that Neville dealt with the Death Eater, but he was upset that he wasn’t able to take Hermione. Harry was also a little concerned that his friends would notice his aroused state, even though his robes were doing a good job of concealing it./ ‘Harry, Jr.’ was standing proud in his trousers. The organ was trying to convince Harry to take Hermione right there in front of their friends. Harry imagined his appendage pleading with him: “Go on, they won’t mind. Besides, you’d just be proving to them how much you love her!”/
/ /”Ronald performed a wonderful Impediment Jinx,” Luna announced.
“It wasn’t as good as Ginny slapping that Death Eater around,” Neville countered.
“I’ve never seen someone use a Sponge-Knees Curse as good as Luna did,” Ron added.
“Neat,” Hermione breathed out, sounding like she too was regretting their friends’ arrival as much as Harry did.
When they finally arrived at the castle, the first years were quickly sorted. Then McGonagall gave a lecture. She said something about how Aurors would be guarding the castle and that the wing where the Room of Requirement was located had been blocked off earlier in the day. She reassured the students that the attack on the train earlier was a fluke and that the castle was impenetrable.
Harry wasn’t paying too much attention to what the Headmistress was saying. Instead he was focused on his girlfriend who was equally focused on him. It was clear that she was just as eager as he was. Her eyes were dark with lust and Harry couldn’t wait to be alone with her.
Then a very happy thought came to Harry. This was the first night Harry and Hermione would be spending in the Head Boy and Head Girl apartments. In just a few minutes, they would be alone. Right after the Welcoming Feast, Harry would be making love to Hermione; their first time after a prolonged dry spell, without fear of interruption.
Professor McGonagall ended her speech and food magically appeared on every table. Harry wolfed down his meal in a few gulps. Once he had satisfied his hunger, he grabbed Hermione’s hand and said “Let’s go find the Head Boy and Girl’s chambers!”
Harry started to stand up, but Hermione tugged him back down.
“We have to wait until the feast is over,” Hermione pointed out.
The raven haired wizard groaned pitifully. He wanted to make love to Hermione and the damned feast was stopping him from doing so. He glared at his fellow students, silently willing them to eat faster so that the feast would be over. Harry shot a hateful eye at a group of fourth year Hufflepuffs who were talking instead of finishing their meals.
‘Damn then,’ /Harry thought bitterly to himself. ‘They’re dragging this out on purpose. They know the longer they take to eat the more I suffer.’/
/ /Finally, after what felt like hours, McGonagall declared the feast over by announcing that everyone should head to their Common Rooms.
“Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, a word,” McGonagall called out.
Harry fought the urge to shout/ “HELL NO!” /and run out of the Great Hall with Hermione in tow. But Harry realized that doing so would be terribly rude. So, he forced himself to shuffle up to the Headmistress.
“Here is a map leading to your chambers,” McGonagall said as she handed Hermione a piece of paper. “As Head Boy and Girl, a house-elf has been assigned to you. I took the liberty and selected Dobby to be that house-elf. He has a small room in-between your rooms. The password to get into the chamber is ‘Bubblerboth’.”
Harry was happy with the Headmistress’ choice of elf; Dobby wasn’t part of the house-elf sect that wanted to kill Harry for deflowering the Great One. And Hermione would be happy that Dobby was chosen because he was the only house-elf being paid.
“Now, you two need to be up early in the morning, so don’t stay up too late,” McGonagall said with her now-patented saucy wink.
“Don’t worry, we won’t,” Hermione said rapidly before grabbing Harry’s hand and ran out of the Great Hall.
The two lovers dashed through the halls. Harry was quite surprised;/ ‘Harry, Jr.’ /was still very hard. Even after all this time and McGonagall’s wink, he was still erect! Harry thought with amusement that he must have looked like something akin to a divining rod as he ran to his new room.
They rapidly approached a door with the Hogwarts crest carved on it. Hermione said “Bubblerboth” and threw the door open and entered.
If Harry had bothered to take the time to look around him, he would have noticed that he and Hermione had entered a small room, about a quarter the size of the Gryffindor Common Room. He would have also noticed a comfy couch, two comfortable looking chairs, two desks for homework, and a fireplace along with two doors placed on either side of a small door. But as stated previously, Harry wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings. No, his mind was firmly set on the task of making Hermione a very satisfied witch.
The moment they entered the room, he pushed Hermione onto the couch and leapt on her. He kissed her passionately, their tongues played in each others mouth. While they kissed, Hermione tugged at her clothes while Harry pulled his own off. Once they were both mostly naked (Harry still had his trainers and socks on and Hermione had her skirt hanging off of one of her ankles) Hermione commanded with a smile “Get to work.”
Harry was getting so used to activating his Parselmouth ability that he found himself not even needing to close his eyes. He slowly slid down Hermione’s body while hissing softly, which just caused goose-pimples to blossom all over her milky flesh. As he lowered himself between her legs, she started to make soft mewing sounds in anticipation. Her soft mewing instantly turned into a very enthusiastic/ “YES!” /the moment his tongue and love magic touched her flower.
He twirled his tongue around her bud and Hermione clamped her legs around his head reflexively. She squeezed her legs tighter when he gently pried apart her petals and ran his tongue up and down the inside of her labia. The brunette witch – although from Harry’s current viewpoint it would be more accurate to describe Hermione as “the completely shorn witch” – didn’t last very long. Apparently, she had wanted to end their dry spell just as much as Harry did. And just as Harry came a lot when Hermione pleasured him in the train, she erupted like a fountain. She had obviously been building up a lot as well.
“SWEET BABY MEAVE!” she cried out as her orgasm struck her. Harry lapped up her love happily.
Hermione relaxed her legs, freeing Harry to climb back up her body. The two lovers locked eyes and she reached down and guided Harry into her./ ‘Harry, Jr.’ /was so happy to be back where it belonged that it almost started crying a few seconds after it slid into Hermione’s flower. Thankfully, the organ fought the urge to finish early and valiantly continued.
“Talk dirty to me,” Harry whispered in Hermione’s ear.
Clearly, Hermione was more than happy to comply with Harry’s request. Her mouth spewed such foul and creative phrases as/ “ram me,” “I’m a dirty witch who needs to be spanked,” and many naughty words like “fuck” and “pussy” (a word which Harry was almost positive that she didn’t use in reference to Crookshanks). And added to Harry’s enjoyment, when he warned his lover that he was about to climax, she loudly demanded that he should do so in her because she wanted to be a “messy witch!”/
With both lovers panting and momentarily satiated, Harry pulled out of Hermione.
“Well… that… was… fun,” commented Hermione in between pants.
“Yeah… it… was,” Harry breathed out.
Then our hero discovered something unusual. Generally, when/ ‘Harry, Jr.’ was done playing, it’d trot off to bed for a kip. Harry was quite surprised to see his organ was still awake and…. ahem/… up for another go.
“It would be a shame to let that go to waste,” Hermione said as she eyed Harry’s erect state.
“A dreadful shame,” agreed Harry.
What followed could be best described as/ “Mad Monkey Sex.” Both made odd noises consisting of “oooh’s,””aah’s,” “eee’s,” and half a dozen “ook’s”. They also didn’t just restrain themselves to using only the couch. No, they tried to “break in,” /so to speak, as many pieces of furniture as possible. After they left the couch, Hermione was bent over one of the desks, a position that Harry thoroughly enjoyed because it gave him the opportunity to massage and fondle her round bottom as he took her from behind (and to Hermione’s pleasure, he got a few good, hard swats against those heavenly cheeks). A few moments later found Harry lying on the rug in front of the fireplace while Hermione rode him like a pony; another position that Harry found enjoyable because it gave him the chance to stroke and rub her boobs. After that, Harry took Hermione as she lay across the other desk, a position that couldn’t have been comfortable for Hermione. But judging by the happy sounds she was making and her cheers of “YES,” “RIGHT THERE!” and “FASTER,” Hermione didn’t seem to mind the hard desk pressing into her back. And at one time, both Harry and Hermione were somehow dangling from the chandelier.
Unlike their first go at lovemaking that night, Hermione climaxed. And she did so before Harry did. Harry knew that she had an orgasm because he felt her inner walls clamp down around him. That and she cried out her usual idiom when it happened: “SWEET BABY MEAVE!”
Harry came shortly after she did. Both of them were dripping with sweat – amongst other liquids – and breathing heavily at this point. Harry was beyond satisfied. Not only did he and Hermione put an end to their dry spell, but they nearly made up for any lost time in just one session. He was proud of his accomplishment but he was also ready to fall asleep. Twice in a row is very tiring for a bloke.
However, even though he was ready for a long rest,/ ‘Harry, Jr.’ wasn’t even slightly sleepy. The messy member looked up at Harry with its one eye as if it was proudly declaring /”I’m ready for another round, sir!”
/ /”Bloody hell!” exclaimed Harry.
Then Hermione made a noise. It was soft and rapid. Harry didn’t hear it clearly, but he could have sworn that she had just said/ “yippee!”/
/ /”What was that?” asked Harry.
“Oh, nothing really,” Hermione said with a very happy grin. He gave her a disbelieving look and she defended herself. “I was just commenting that all that adrenaline you had during the fight with the Death Eaters must be giving you this virility.”
“Do you think it’ll ever go down?” Harry asked.
“Hopefully not anytime soon,” Hermione uttered under her breath.
“Excuse me?”
“Sit on the chair and let me take care of that,” commanded Hermione. The tone of her voice told Harry that it would be best not to argue with her. So Harry obediently sat in the chair and Hermione promptly straddled him. She started by slowly raising and lowering herself on Harry. Then, after a bit, she increased her pace. Next, she began to grind and gyrate on/ ‘Harry, Jr.’ /in new and interesting ways. Hermione was making sweet and enjoyable sounds as she moved up, down, this way, and that. Harry just sat back and enjoyed the show.
“Hermione… I’m… gonna…” Harry began to warn her.
“Not just yet, Harry,” she moaned out. “I’m almost there.”
Harry fought it with all of his might. His face screwed up in concentration and he hoped that Hermione wasn’t lying, because he was about to lose his fight and cum.
“Oh… oh… oh…” Hermione panted.
Harry fought the urge to shout/ “Would you just finish already!”/
/ /”So-o-o close,” she muttered. “Almost… there.”
Sweat poured off of his body and he grunted. He was now starting to hurt. His body begged for release.
“Oh, Merlin Harry,” she cried. “Now, do it now.”
With a shout, Harry let go and Hermione screamed once again. She collapsed on him and her body shivered with delight.
They sat there silently, basking in each others’ warmth for some time. Then Hermione began to giggle softly in Harry’s ear. That’s when he noticed that he was still hard inside of her.
“Damn my virility,” Harry murmured in exhaustion.
“Looks like someone’s up for round four,” she said joyously and began her luscious grinding once again.
To Be Continued
Author’s Notes: Sorry about the long delay. My inspiration was chased away by issues with real life and it is slowly coming back to me.

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Thorin Oakenshield survived the BOFA and is now King under the mountain, it’s been five years and the people have decided he should marry to provide an heir to Erebor.

Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor
Chapter Twenty-Two: Pretzel Lovin’
Disclaimer: Not mine, I own nothing. I’m not making any money.
WARNING: Harsh Language, adult themes, sexual situations (i.e. smut), bad spelling and grammar.
Author’s Notes: This story is a broad farce with over the top humor (a good deal of it is crude and sexual) and OOC actions (that’s Out Of Character if you don’t know). Also, this is my first smut-ish fic. If you don’t like sex and sex-based humor, do NOT read this!
Chapter Twenty-Two: Harry and Hermione attempt their first original ritual.
In order to prepare themselves for the rituals that Hermione had created, the brunette witch devised a comprehensive workout routine. This routine consisted of several yoga postures as well as various calisthenics. Both of the young lovers would practice the same yoga postures, but they would perform different calisthenics. Harry found some of the standing yoga postures very easy due to his innate sense of balance. But the couple found out something they did not know before; Hermione was naturally very flexible. She could perform postures like the Shooting-bow Pose, Half-moon Pose, and Plow Pose very easily. This pleased Harry very much, especially when Hermione would do the Standing Forward Bend because it gave him a spectacular view of her delicious bottom.
As for their individual calisthenics, Harry would do full push-ups while Hermione would practice modified push-ups where her knees were allowed to touch the floor. The pair also did several types of sit-ups and stomach crunches. But one callisthenic Hermione would perform puzzled Harry. The young witch would either sit in a chair or simply stand in once spot while Harry did his pull-ups. She did not move any part of her body; she didn’t even look like she was straining herself. When Harry would ask her what she was doing, she’d always reply “I’m doing my exercises.”
At first Harry didn’t think she was doing any exercises at all. But after a week of Hermione’s motionless work-out, Harry had discovered the benefits. He had vowed to search for this Dr. Arnold Kegel and thank him profusely for creating such an incredibly versatile and rewarding exercise.
*
One night while going over his notes for Transfiguration, Harry’s mind wandered to the rituals that Hermione had created and realized something.
“Hey, Hermione, I just thought of something,” he began. Hermione looked up from her notes and he continued. “Do you think that our power boosts will affect these rituals you’ve made?”
Hermione was silent for a moment before speculating, “It’s possible.”
“Maybe we should get somebody to do the rituals as well,” Harry opined.
“That’s a good idea, Harry,” Hermione agreed. “We would need a couple to perform the ritual so we could have a baseline.”
“What’s a ‘baseline’?”
“A standard to which we could compare and measure our success,” Hermione clarified. “We would need to know what should happen based on a normal powered couple compared to our boosted abilities.”
“Oh well, that makes sense,” Harry replied. “And we can get Ron and Luna to do the rituals. Neither of them has performed any power boosting rituals.”
“They’d be perfect,” Hermione added. “But we’ll have to make them do the same exercises we do so that they can be prepared.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Harry said.
After a moment, Hermione added; “You still want to do the rituals though, don’t you? Regardless of our how our power boosts might affect them?”
“Oh, definitely,” Harry replied. He was one never to pass up an opportunity for sex. “In fact, I think we should practice for the ritual.”
“Practice in what way?” Hermione asked coyly.
“Just the basics,” Harry replied. “You know, simple stuff like I place my penis into your vagina and go on from there.”
“Ah, you’re such a romantic, Harry,” she said with a randy smile. Harry could tell that she was more than willing to push her notes to the side so that the two of them could bang each others brains out on the table thanks to her patented ‘come shag me’ look. But Harry felt like toying with his lover a bit.
“Yeah, you’re right. Never mind,” he turned his attention back to his notes. “Pretend I didn’t say anything.”
“Uh uh, Mr. Potter,” Hermione said while unbuttoning two buttons on her blouse. “You said you were going to put your penis in my vagina. And I’m going to hold you to it.”
Even though it was just a quickie, Hermione was very energetic. She cheered and encouraged Harry with phrases such as/ “Insert penis faster!”/
*
Ron and Luna were very interested in helping Harry and Hermione test out the new rituals. The reason for this drive was that Luna, being a Ravenclaw, was intrigued and excited by the notion of helping test new magics. On the other hand, Ron, being a bloke, was intrigued and excited by the notion of boinking his wife in new positions. The married couple joined in on Harry and Hermione’s morning exercise routines with a passion.
After a few weeks of exercises, the two couples progressed to higher repetitions of calisthenics and more advanced yoga postures. Because of his balance, Harry was very good at the one-legged pose and Hermione’s flexibility let her perform the camel pose easily. Ron and Luna were progressing fairly well also.
Both couples noted that the exercises gave them extra energy. Which Hermione and Luna were quite happy about since it gave them needed energy to deal with their heavier class loads. The outcome of the exercises made Ron and Harry happy because they now had extra energy which they used on Luna and Hermione, respectively.
/ /During this self-imposed training period, the extra lessons that Flitwick and McGonagall had offered had progressed as well. Harry and his friends were now performing cross-species transfiguration and advanced charms used to animate various inanimate objects even during battle simulations.
One Saturday early in this training phase, after they had finished their exercises, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Luna were busy doing their homework in the Head Boy and Girl’s chambers. The four friends had agreed to do their work in this room as opposed to the library because they were allowed to talk to each other in the chambers. A knock on the door interrupted their studies.
“Wotcher, kids,” a ridiculously happy Tonks said, albeit very quietly. The reason for Tonks’ joy as well as her lowered volume was cuddled up in her arms asleep.
A chubby, bald-headed, little baby softly snored in his mother’s arms.
Luna and Hermione began making high-pitched sounds that told Harry they were overjoyed to see the infant. The two witches rushed the pink-haired Auror and silently asked to hold the baby.
“Let me introduce Sirius Romulus Tonks-Lupin,” Tonks introduced her son as she gently handed him to Hermione. The brunette witch immediately began making soft cooing sounds and Luna waited patiently for her turn.
“When was he born?” Harry asked.
“Three days ago,” Tonks said.
“Did you and Remus get married in time?” Hermione asked as she eyed a modest gold ring on Tonks’ finger.
“Barely,” the Auror replied with a chuckle. “Let’s just say I said my vows in between contractions.”
“Speaking of Remus, where is he?” Ron asked.
“Last night was a full moon,” Tonks answered. “So he’s resting.”
“Oh,” Ron muttered.
A sudden tension filled the air. The four teenagers looked at the slumbering baby with a touch of sadness.
“Don’t worry,” Tonks reassured them. “Sometimes Lycanthropy doesn’t get passed down. Hopefully we’ll be lucky and lil’ Sirius won’t get all fuzzy every month.”
“When will you know for certain whether or not it’s passed him by?” asked Harry.
“The disease usually surfaces when the child turns five or so,” the new mother answered. “So we’ll just keep our fingers crossed and hope for the best. If not, then Remus will have a play buddy on full moons.”
Tonks was surprisingly upbeat. She talked to the two witches about the joys of motherhood; stretch marks, swollen breast, and sleepless nights. It was plainly obvious that Tonks couldn’t have been happier.
While Luna was holding Sirius, Tonks turned her attention to Harry and Hermione and asked; “So did you get to cum on her tits like you wanted to?”
Harry blanched and Hermione’s face turned beet red. Luna began to giggle softly and Ron looked in between Hermione’s chest and Luna’s. It was clear that he was wondering if he could do the same act.
“You told Tonks?” Hermione hissed in between her gritted teeth at Harry.
Before Harry could stammer a response, Tonks decided to help him and spoke up: “Actually, Courtney told me about it.”
“You told Courtney?” Hermione growled. Obviously, Tonks’ attempt at helping the young man out of a predicament was actually making it worse.
This time, Harry was able to stammer a response.
“Well… err… I… ah… sort of.”
“What did you just start up a conversation and say /’Great to see you, Courtney. Oh, by the way, I want to give Hermione a titty-shag’?” /Hermione asked in a scandalized way.
“No, that’s not how it happened,” Tonks defended Harry. “Courtney and Harry were talking about innocent things when she brought up sex – you know how she gets. Anyway, she was able to wriggle that tidbit of information out of Harry.”
Hermione huffed. She was still clearly upset and embarrassed.
“Did having a penis in between your breasts feel good?” Luna asked.
“Honestly, not really,” Hermione admitted and than offered a smile to Harry. “But it made Harry feel good, so I was pleased.”
“I hear it’s good for the skin,” Luna began. “Does it really tighten up the pores?”
Hermione huffed again at Luna’s crude question. But after a second, she couldn’t help but to crack a smile.
“It does; wonderful,” Luna announced. “Ronald, I’ll have to test this out for myself, so get ready.”
Judging by the happy smile on Ron’s face, he was ready to give it a go right then and there.
“So how were you able to do it?” Tonks asked. “I mean, Hermione’s got such small titties I’d imagine it was a little difficult.”
“Hey, your tits aren’t much bigger than mine,” Hermione jested.
In retaliation, Tonks screwed her eyes shut and her breasts began to expand like balloons. They grew and grew until they reached Luna’s size – which made the fabric of her/ “Weird Sisters” /pullover stretch to near ripping.
The four teenagers stared wide-eyed at the now overly endowed Tonks.
“Being a Metamorphmagus does have its benefits,” Tonks said impressively. “Yep, Remus is one lucky man. He can shag a different woman every night without cheating. Before my whirlwind pregnancy, Remus and I were masters at role-playing. He didn’t like it much though when we played /Stern “Professor and Naughty School Girl” /because I decided to make it as real as possible and made myself look like a fifteen year old. It freaked him out.”
Tonks and her son left a few minutes later. As the pink haired mother left the teenagers, she bragged, “I’ve got to show my son off to a load of other people.”
“We’ll be leaving now,” Luna announced suddenly to Harry and Hermione.
“We will?” Ron asked.
“Is there something you have to do?” Harry inquired.
“Yes, I need to see how effective Ronald’s seminal fluid is as a skin moisturizer,” Luna stated casually. “I’d be more than willing to test it right here on the couch, but I know how shy you and Hermione are when it comes to such public displays. So I figure that we’ll go back to Ronald’s room. Ta.”
With that, Luna and Ron left the Head Boy and Girl’s chambers. Ron had a look of absolute happiness on his face as his wife led him out. It was clear that he was going to enjoy using his wife’s enormous breasts in a new way.
“She certainly is a unique girl,” commented Hermione.
“That’s one way of putting it,” added Harry.
Hermione suddenly laughed out loud. “I just realized something,” she said. “Remember what I said about not replacing my moisturizer with your seminal fluid?”
“Yeah,” Harry answered.
“Well, judging by Ron’s apparent unending virility, it is possible for Luna to do just that,” Hermione said with a smile.
Harry felt very queasy for Hermione’s statement caused a mental image to pop up in his head. In this vision, Luna came bounding up to Harry and Hermione, every inch of her exposed flesh coated with a translucent and glossy liquid as she proudly declared: “It really does work as a moisturizer!”
*
During the pair’s hectic training and school schedules, the second week of September rolled around, and Harry began making plans for Hermione’s birthday. It was after all, her first birthday as his girlfriend and he wanted to make it as special as possible. Not only was Harry planning on buying a number of gifts for his lover, but he was also planning on a romantic candle lit dinner. He got two of her presents from Owl Catalogs but for the most important gift he snuck out of the castle one morning while Hermione was in Ancient Runes and made a quick trip to Diagon Alley.
When they woke up on the 19th of September, Harry kissed Hermione before saying “Happy Birthday.” He handed her his first present and Hermione smiled sweetly after she opened a finely caved box used to hold her writing materials; it had a felt lined compartment for her quill and several jars filled with different inks.
At lunch, Harry presented Hermione with her second birthday gift: a soft leather book bag with a Featherweight Charmed imbued in it. Before Harry could begin to explain the nature of the gift, the brunette witch squealed joyously and she held the bag over her head.
“It’s the/ ‘Notably Toteable Library Satchel!” /she exclaimed. “I’ve wanted this for so long!”
When dinner time came, Harry led Hermione into the hidden passageway under the Whomping Willow and into what used to be the Shrieking Shack – the interior of the house was still a magnificent mansion. Harry took Hermione into the Shack’s spectacular white marble dining room where Dobby was waiting for them.
During his preparations, Harry contacted Dobby and some of the other House-Elves (from the sect that didn’t want to castrate him for touching the Great One) and asked them to help prepare a dinner for Hermione. They were more than happy to make a outstanding meal for their prophesized savior. Dobby and the other Hogwarts’ House-Elves contacted their peers across the globe to help out in the meal.
After Harry held Hermione’s seat out and the brunette witch sat down, Dobby snapped his fingers and the large oak table was suddenly covered with several silver platters of exotic looking foods.
Dinner started with delectable appetizers made by a House-Elf from Nice. Then the couple moved onto the main course; a duck that was prepared by one of the finest House-Elf chefs in China. Dessert was a Key Lime pie made by a very talented elf- pastry chef from Liverpool.
“That was lovely, Harry,” Hermione said with a happy smile. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said before getting up and walking over to his girlfriend. He handed her a long thin case and said once more; “Happy birthday.”
“You shouldn’t have,” Hermione said and opened the case. Inside was a thin silver chain necklace with a small diamond dangling from it.
Tears welled up in her eyes and she said, “It’s beautiful.”
“May I?” Harry asked while gesturing to the necklace. She nodded her head and Harry pulled the jewelry out of the case. He unclasped the chain and Hermione held up her kinky hair, allowing him to place it around her neck and clasp it.
Harry had thought about buying her a ring, but he was afraid that she would mistake it for an engagement ring – not that he wasn’t ready to propose to Hermione. They had already decided to wait until they were done with school before making it official. Besides, Harry thought that proposing to her on her birthday would be too cheesy and clichéd.
Dobby bowed to Harry and Hermione and snapped his fingers once more. The food disappeared from the table and the house-elf walked out of the room.
“I feel so rotten,” Hermione pouted. Harry gulped and wondered if she didn’t like his presents. “You give me this gorgeous diamond necklace and two other truly thoughtful gifts for my birthday and all I gave to you on your birthday was a lousy blow-job.”
With a chuckle, Harry informed her, “It was in no way lousy. That was the single best birthday present I ever received.”
Hermione’s face began to glow and she said, “That may be, but you gave me three presents today and I only gave you that one. So I think I should start making it up to you.”
The brunette witch smiled wickedly as she slid off of her chair and knelt in front of Harry.
“Happy Birthday to you,” /she sang as she started to undo his trousers. “Happy Birthday to you,” she continued and pulled ‘Harry, Jr.’ out into the open air. “Happy Birthday, dear Harry.”/
/ /She then popped his organ into her mouth and hummed the rest of the song. She had to repeat the tune several times before he climaxed. The naughty witch made a show to Harry of presenting his seed in her mouth before swallowing it.
“That is the best Birthday present,” Harry reaffirmed. He decided to give Hermione a fourth present. It was a present that kept on giving; multiple orgasms.
After guiding her onto the oak table which Dobby had just cleared, Harry tapped into his love core and activated his parsletongue abilities. He didn’t stop devouring her until his tongue became numb; she was the birthday girl and this day needed to be special after all.
*
After an early morning exercise one October morning, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Luna made their way to the castle’s kitchen for a light snack. Even though they could’ve just asked Dobby to get some food for them, Hermione didn’t like the idea of overworking the house-elf. But their trek to the kitchen was aborted when two people came stumbling out of an unused classroom.
Normally, when two people came stumbling out of a classroom, Harry and his friends wouldn’t give them much heed. But when the two people happened to be Neville and Ginny and both of them had mussed up hair and puffy, red lips as if they had just finished snogging like crazed teenagers, then Harry and his friends would stop and give heed.
“WHAT THE BLOODY EFFING HELL!” Ron screamed as he leapt toward Neville.
As Ron flew through the air, Harry recalled how Neville had physically thrashed a Death Eater on the train ride to the castle. Harry instantly came to the conclusion that if Ron started a fist fight with Neville, that the red hair wizard would get his arse handed to him. So, relying on his reflexes, honed by years of Quidditch (and dodging the Dursleys), Harry tackled Ron to the ground.
“Harry, gerroff me!” Ron growled. “I have to protect my sister’s virtue!”
Once again, Hermione apparently felt the overwhelming desire to point out that Ron was belated in his actions of trying to protect Ginny’s chastity. “It’s a little too late for that,” she commented. However her comment wasn’t soft and under her breath like it was when she had muttered a few weeks before. This time everyone around her heard her clearly.
“Hey!” Ginny said loudly. “I’m not that much of a slut!’
Hermione countered with a “pfft” sound.
“Ron, your sister’s a big girl now,” Harry tried to explain as Ron struggled to get up. “She can make decisions for herself.”
“Besides, Ronald, we’ve discussed this,” Luna said in a dreamy and soothing tone. “Ginny learned from our mistake; she cannot do anything with Neville besides kissing without being forced by your mother to marry him.”
After a moment, Ron acquiesced. “All right, fine,” he grumbled.
Harry got off of Ron, which was a mistake. The instant Harry had released him, Ron jumped up and charged at Neville.
“YOU TOUCHED MY SISTER!” he shouted.
Thankfully, Harry was able to grab his friend around his shoulders. He was trying to hold Ron back, but the red haired wizard continued to struggle.
“Ron, you’re taking this /’over-protective brother’ /thing a little too far, don’t you think?” Hermione reasoned. “Anyway, quite a number of people have touched your sister before Neville got his chance.”
“I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I am not such a loose witch!” Ginny tried to defend herself.
Another “pfft” noise filled the air in defiance to Ginny’s remark. This time however, it was Luna who had made the sound.
“Ginny, I love you like a sister – which technically you are, now since I am married to Ronald,” Luna said sweetly. “But Michael Corner and I are in the same House and he talked about that night in the Greenhouse.”
Ginny gasped. “He said he wouldn’t tell!”
“Oh, my poor Ginny, you’re so very much like the Amazonian Lake Fortainian; you’re far too trusting. And as everybody well knows, those misfortunate creatures were driven to extinction because of their trusting nature. Not only did Michael tell what you did in the Greenhouse, he wrote poems about it,” Luna added. “And you should know you’re not supposed to pull Mandrakes out of the soil that way.”
“Hey, although I really love to hear disturbing stories about the girl I used to date,” Harry interjected as he struggled with Ron, “I need some help here.”
“Should I stun him?” Hermione offered.
“No, I can take care of Ronald,” Luna said and walked in front of her husband. The blonde witch tugged her robes open and exposed her massive breasts. It was quiet effective. Ron stopped struggling all together and Harry felt his friend’s breath slow and his pulse lower as the red haired wizard stared dumbly at his wife’s boobs.
“Merlin, they’re huge,” Ginny murmured in awe as she became transfixed with her sister-in-law’s enormous mounds.
“Come here, Ronald,” Luna said coyly. “Your wife wants to spend some special time with you.”
Luna backed up toward the classroom Neville and Ginny had just left and Ron followed like a puppy. After the married couple disappeared in the room, Harry turned to Neville.
“Don’t worry about him,” Harry said in a reassuring way. “He’ll come around sooner or later.”
“Thanks Harry,” Neville began. “I appre-”
Neville had his statement cut short because loud moaning began to emanate from the classroom.
“They’re all ready going at it?” Ginny asked in a mixture of disbelief and horror.
“And at it and at it and at it,” Hermione added.
A muffled yet impassioned “Yes, right there!” filtered through the door, causing the four teenagers to feel even more uncomfortable then they already were.
“Let’s go fetch a snack,” Harry offered to Hermione, Ginny, and Neville. The three quickly agreed with Harry and the two couples rushed as fast as they could away from the loud and various noises coming from the classroom.
*
A few days later, Hermione came to the conclusion that they were ready to perform her wit-enhancing ritual. When asked about the need for the baseline as performed by a non-boosted couple, Hermione replied that the baseline could be examined later; she was ready (and randy) now. She and Harry went over the logistics of the ritual for two full hours. She drew a fairly detailed (it was an advanced form of stick figures, mind you, but that was very detailed given Hermione’s artistic abilities) drawing showing their position during the ritual. And she made sure that Harry had memorized the simple incantation he was to say when he climaxed:/ “Maximus Intellegentia”/
/ /When it was time to do the act, they converted the spare Head’s room into their ritual room. Basically, they just stripped the room of all of its furnishings and drew some symbols and runes on the floor. And for their comfort, they placed a Cushioning Charm on the floor as well.
“Now remember Harry, when you ejaculate, shout, ‘/Maximus Intellegentia’,” /Hermione reiterated as they both got naked.
Harry nodded his head distractedly. After all, the two of them were standing there quite nicely naked and his mind was focused on her lovely form.
“Okay, let’s get started,” he announced.
For the ritual to work properly, both Harry and Hermione had to be aroused. So they kissed and played with each other for a bit before they were able to start the actual ritual. And be certain, that when Harry ate out Hermione and she went down on him it was strictly for the ritual; neither enjoyed the activity… right, sure they didn’t.
Once they were good and aroused, Hermione took her position. First, she lay on her back. Then she hoisted up her hips and legs until she was able to place her calves under her shoulders. This obviously meant that her back had to be bent quite a bit. Even with her natural flexibility, Hermione would have had difficulties achieving this posture without the weeks of yoga practice.
Next, Harry took his position. His posture was very simple, especially compared to Hermione’s. All he had to do was face away from Hermione, place his feet on either side of her, and squat so that his bits were in front of Hermione’s flower. This meant that because of Hermione’s almost balled-up position, Harry’s naked bottom was very close to her face. Harry assumed that her view must not have been very appealing. But, judging by the playful bite placed on his left cheek, Hermione must’ve actually enjoyed looking at his bum.
“Let’s get going,” commanded Hermione.
Harry gently pushed into her and began to pump. It was a very awkward position and it took a few moments for Harry to get into the flow of it. But once he got it down, he found he rather liked it.
The way he was positioned, the only thing he could see of his girlfriend was her wonderful round bottom. This gave him ample opportunity to spank, rub, and massage her wondrous orbs.
And Hermione seemed to enjoy the odd position as well. She was happily shouting a “yes”/, “ah”/, or “oh” with every thrust. And Hermione cried out “SWEET BABY MAEVE!” twice. Harry reckoned that they would have to practice this position just for the pleasure of it, the ritual be damned.
A few minutes after they started, Harry felt his climax approaching.
“Maximus Intellegentia!” he shouted as he came.
A sudden wave of energy washed over him. He felt it pass through Hermione as well.
After they caught their breath, he helped his girlfriend to her feet and she asked “Did it work?”
“I don’t know,” Harry said. “Ask me something I shouldn’t know?”
“Okay, how was the Philosopher’s Stone able to prolong Flamel’s life?” she asked.
“Well, the Stone was used to create the Elixir of Life, a highly advanced healing potion. Not only did the Elixir cure sickness, but it fought off the effects of aging as well, thereby granting a form of immortality,” Harry stated.
“It worked!” heralded Hermione.
The couple spent the next day scouring the library. Harry read every course book from all five years of Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, whereas Hermione devoured nearly every book in the Restricted Second. Harry then had a very interesting debate with Hermione on how the laws of physics weren’t broken when magic was used, just slightly bent.
But when Harry woke up the fifth day after the ritual, he noticed something odd; he felt that the mental energy that had been with him since the ritual had dissipated. He had discovered that he had lost all the information he had learned while under the effects of the ritual. He remembered that he had read and understood all those books. But he could not recall anything he had learned. It was as if the things he learned was a dream, it had drifted away.
At first, Harry was a little perplexed by the duration of the affects of the ritual.
“Why did it only last a few days, Hermione?” he asked his girlfriend.
“It was just a simple ritual that was never meant to be permanent” she explained. “It is similar to the power boosting ritual you performed accidentally. If we wanted the affects to be longer lasting, we would need to make the ritual more difficult and complex.”
“More complex, eh?” Harry said with a wry grin. He was intrigued by the notion of using various poses and positions for the ritual. Perhaps they would start out by having Hermione lean against a wall and he would take her from behind, then the couple would move to the couch where she would ride him like a hippogriff, finally they would finish with some position where they were both twisted around each other like some erotic pretzel.
“Not more complex in a fun way, Harry,” Hermione corrected. “To make it permanent, we would have to integrate some form of sacrifice, usually blood from one of us. That’s why my power boost was permanent; we used the blood from my broken hymen as a sacrifice.”
After breakfast, Hermione came to the conclusion that they would need to have Ron and Luna perform the ritual to make sure that their results weren’t something of a fluke.
The two couples spent the next half hour going over the ritual in great detail. Hermione drew them a picture and answered all of Ron and Luna’s questions. Satisfied that they understood the ritual, the married couple got up and went into the spare room, leaving Harry and Hermione in the outer chamber.
A very short while later, a shout of “Maximus Intellegentia!” came from the spare bedroom.
“That was quick,” commented Hermione.
“You’re surprised?” Harry asked rhetorically with pride at his own stamina in comparison with Ron’s.
A few moments later, Ron and Luna came waltzing out of the room and sat on the couch across from Harry and Hermione.
“Okay Ron, Luna, how do you feel?” Harry asked. He was anxious to see if the ritual had worked.
“Much more smarter,” Ron answered. Harry became a little concerned by his friend’s answer. It wasn’t unusual for Ron to use improper English, but the ritual should’ve stopped him from doing so. Hermione shared a look with Harry that told him she was just as worried.
“What’s the square root of two?” Hermione asked Ron. This would prove to Harry if the ritual was a success or not. He was positive that Ron had no previous knowledge what a square root was. If the ritual worked, Ron should give the correct answer.
“A top hat!” Ron declared triumphantly. Luna gave her husband a congratulatory pat on the back for such a good answer.
“Um, I don’t think the ritual worked,” speculated Hermione.
“Luna, what’s your favorite color?” Harry asked the blonde witch.
“Eighty-five!” Luna answered happily.
“I think the ritual didn’t work,” Harry repeated Hermione’s conclusion.
“That’s my wife,” Ron announced. “The most smartest witch in the world!”
“It really didn’t work,” added Harry. “Is it because we had performed power boosting rituals and they didn’t?”
“No, I think they must’ve done the ritual incorrectly,” Hermione answered Harry as Ron and Luna watched them with glazed looks in their eyes. “And it actually lowered their intelligence instead of raising it. Maybe they did the act backwards, I mean physically backwards, not in backwards order.”
“How could they do it backwards?” asked Harry. “We drew them a picture.”
“Harry, we’re talking about a couple who/ ‘accidentally’ /had anal sex their first date,” Hermione pointed out. “That’s not something regular people do unintentionally.”
“Wait a minute,” Harry interrupted. Hermione’s comment gave him an idea as to how the married coupleperformed the ritual. “Um, when you guys did the ritual, did you do anything unusual?”
“Yes,” Luna said with a stupid smile. “Ronald missed and did me in the dirty place. Tee hee.”
Luna didn’t end her statement with a light giggle, she had actually said the phrase “Tee hee”.
“First of all; ow! Second:/ ew!” /Hermione said. “And third; this is actually helpful.”
“It is?” Harry asked, desperately trying to block the image of Ron accidentally sodomizing Luna… again.
“Yes, we can conclude that when the couple performs the ritual anally, it actually lowers the participants’ intelligence. Therefore, it’s possible that they could return to their normal intelligence if they performed the ritual correctly. It would counterbalance.”
“You want us to do it again?” Luna asked.
“Yes,” Hermione answered.
“Great!” Ron exclaimed. He immediately jumped off the couch and landed on his back with a thud. Before Harry and Hermione could stop him, Ron hoisted up his legs and grabbed his ankles and levered his bottom into the air. Luna than sprang into action. She leapt off of the couch and grabbed her husband’s hips and began to thrust her hips into his bottom. Thankfully for Harry and Hermione’s sanity, both Ron and Luna were still fully clothed.
“I… /un/… think… /oh/… it’s… /ah/…. working!” Luna grunted as she repeatedly slapped her pelvis against Ron’s bum.
“I’m more intelligenter,” Ron cried out.
“Maybe we should wait for it to wear off,” offered Harry.
“Yes, good point,” Hermione concurred. “Otherwise I think they’d just end up hurting themselves.”
*
The affects of Ron and Luna’s botched ritual didn’t wear off for two full days. The first day, Luna got in trouble for trying to use the sink in the boys’ lavatory as a toilet… three separate times. Ron got a week’s worth of detentions for demanding that Professor Slughorn needed to show him how to brew water (yes, water. The whole concept of the simple liquid confused and baffled Ron at that time). Of course, Ron had somehow snuck into Slughorn’s chambers and made his demand at three in the morning, hence the week-long detention.
The night after the failed ritual had worn off, Luna was in Harry and Hermione’s chambers seeking help on some of the notes she had taken during Charms. Because of the ritual, her notes consisted exclusively of drawings of flowers and unicorns. Thankfully, Hermione had kept her notes from the previous year and was helping Luna catch up. Harry was certain that if Ron wasn’t in detention, he would’ve been copying Hermione’s notes as well.
A soft, but urgent knocking drew the three teens’ attention to the door. Dobby, who had been folding Harry and Hermione’s clothes, opened the door and let Ginny walk in.
The youngest Weasley had a bright and glowing smile on her face. Judging by that look, Harry guessed that Ginny was nearly as happy as Tonks had been when she had introduced her son, Sirius. But another thing about Ginny’s appearance caught Harry’s eye. He noticed that the red haired witch had a funny gait to her walk. It was as if she was trying to hold an invisible quaffle between her legs as she made her way to where Harry and his friends were sitting.
“Are you okay Ginny?” Hermione asked with concern as the red haired witch waddled past Dobby who went back to tidying up something in the corner of the room.
“He’s as big as my forearm!” Ginny declared joyously.
“Excuse me?” Luna asked.
“He’s as big as my forearm!” repeated Ginny. This time, she held up her right arm as if to prove her point.
“Wait… you had sex with Neville?” Hermione asked. A smiling Ginny nodded her head in response. “Are you mad? If Molly finds out, she’ll force you to marry him!”
“No, she can’t,” Ginny said while grinning madly. “That old custom mum used to make Ron and Luna marry clearly states that at least one parent from each side must agree to the marriage. Since Neville’s parents are catatonic, they can’t agree so Neville and I can’t be forced to marry right away.”
“She’s right,” Luna pointed out. “The custom is very specific about both parents agreeing. It looks like Ginny and Neville are safe because of that loophole.”
“Not that I wouldn’t mind spending the rest of my life with Neville. He’s a sweet bloke and…” Ginny paused and held her arm up for dramatic effect before continuing. “HE’S AS BIG AS MY FOREARM!”
Luna and Hermione shared a look before the brunette witch asked: “Are you talking about length?”
“As big as my forearm!” Ginny highlighted this statement by pointing to an area near her elbow then to a spot just below her wrist.
“What about girth?” Luna inquired.
Ginny responded by trying to wrap her left hand around her right wrist. She added, “I compared the two to make sure!”
“Wow, you’re one lucky witch,” Luna congratulated lightly. It was clear to Harry that Luna was more than happy with Ron and had no intention of leaving him.
“Maybe I should’ve gone with Neville to the Yule Ball when he asked me, huh?” Hermione said with a chuckle.
Even though he was positive Hermione was joking, Harry had to defend his masculinity. It’s a thing men have to do; it’s buried in their genetic code. “One must prove how manly one is even if it’s only a joke.” Many wars had started over such things.
Harry proved his manhood in a unique way. He gently took Hermione’s hand in his and placed his thumb on a very specific spot.
“Oh, Harry, you know I’m kidding,” Hermione said with a chuckle. “You’re the only wiz-/OH!”/
/ /Harry interrupted Hermione’s apology by forcing his loved based magic into the Pleasure Pressure Point on the back of her hand.
“OH!” /she breathed out. “OH!”/
/ /As stated previously, Harry was able to tap into his love based magic much more efficiently than the first time he used this technique. Hermione tried to tug her hand free, but Harry held fast. He had to prove his point.
“Har-r-r-ry… s-s-s-stop… it,” she groaned out and Harry smiled devilishly.
“Not until you say that I am the best,” Harry said wryly.
Ginny stared at Hermione in surprise. She clearly didn’t know why the brunette witch was panting and groaning as if she were about to have an orgasm. Luna on the other hand was watching intently, as if making mental notes.
“You’re… the… b-b-best, H-har-ry,” Hermione moaned out.
“The best at what?” inquired Harry.
“I-I-I’ll m-make you p-pay,” Hermione growled.
“Hermione, what’s he doing to you?” Ginny asked. Her voice was full of worry.
Instead of saying/ “He’s using magic to make me climax”/, Hermione showed Ginny and Luna what Harry was doing.
Hermione bucked so hard that her hips flew up and off the couch a few inches. Then she curled up into a tight ball and leaned on Harry’s body as she trembled in passion.
As Hermione began to catch her breath, Luna explained to Ginny what had just happened.
“Harry and Hermione found a book that describes different forms of sex magic,” Luna informed. “And Harry has a unique talent when it comes to such magic. I’ve tried to get him to teach Ron on some of the techniques, just so that our relationship can grow.”
“I don’t need little tricks like that,” Ginny stated. “Not when my boyfriend has/ ‘The Whomping Willow’ /in his trousers.”
“I happen to think the techniques could be very useful,” Luna argued. “Take your brother for example, he can have sex a number of times and he can satisfy me completely. But I still think that our physical relationship can blossom so much more with such skills.”
“You can have all the techniques you like,” Ginny said. “Nev doesn’t need any silly tricks to satisfy me.”
“‘Silly tricks’? Are you questioning my boyfriend’s ability?” Hermione asked with a fiery gleam in her eyes.
“Not to be rude, but I’ve seen Harry naked,” the red haired witch said honestly. “He’s got nothing on my Neville.”
Before Harry could take offence at Ginny’s comment, Hermione leapt up from the couch.
“Oh, that’s it,” the brunette witch murmured angrily as she rush at Ginny. She spun the younger witch around and rapidly hoisted up her blouse to expose Ginny’s back. “I’ll show you /’silly tricks’./”
Hermione quickly placed her hand on the small of Ginny’s back, the same area that Harry had touched on Bellatrix’s back. It was evident that Hermione was going to apply her own magic on the most intense Pleasure Pressure Point.
Ginny began to moan immediately. A moment later, the witch’s knees began to tremble. And finally, Ginny cried out and collapsed to the ground. The whole ordeal took less than five seconds.
Hermione stood proudly over Ginny and said “/’Silly trick’ /my backside.”
“Wow,” Ginny panted.
“I wish Ronald could do that,” Luna bemoaned.
“Luna, we’ve lent you the book,” Hermione stated. “Why don’t you show him the chapter on Pleasure Pressure Points?”
“Because Ronald is a visual learner,” the blonde witch pouted. “He can read those chapters a dozen times and he won’t get it right until someone shows him how to do it.”
Harry and Hermione shared a look. They both felt pity over Luna’s predicament.
“How about we show him,” offered Hermione. “When he gets out of detention tonight, I’ll show Ron how to do the Pleasure Pressure Points on you.”
“Yeah, because if I do it I’ll send you to St. Mungos’,” Harry said while remembering what he had done to Bellatrix.
“No, I don’t think you should show Ronald,” Luna said with a sad frown. “Because even if you do teach him Pleasure Points, that would just lead to me wanting to learn more of your techniques; such as Harry’s cunnilingus skills. And I know both of you are shy and would never let us watch you two make love.”
Once again, Harry and Hermione looked at each other worriedly. They understood that Luna just wanted to embellish her and Ron’s love life, but she was right when she said that they would never allow Ron and Luna to stand by the side of the bed while they shagged.
“Don’t worry about it; Ronald’s a fine lover,” Luna said half heartedly. She leaned over and helped Ginny – who was stilling lying on the ground, panting – to her feet. “Just pretend I never asked you about that.”
The blonde witch led her sister-in-law out of Harry and Hermione’s apartment. Once the two witches left, Hermione turned to Harry and said; “I wish there was something we could do for them. They are our best friends.”
“But we can’t let them watch,” Harry said nervously.
“They’ve both seen us naked,” Hermione pointed out.
“Yes, but not doing anything intimate,” Harry retorted. He was about to add that Ron and Luna saw them in a post-coital state, but Hermione had been unconscious at the time and Harry didn’t want to tell her about that particular incident.
Hermione chewed on her lip before she suggested “Why not lend them your Invisibility Cloak. That way, they could watch us and we wouldn’t see them.”
“But we would still know they’re there,” Harry pointed out. “That would even be worst than seeing them because we wouldn’t know what they were up to under the cloak. They could get aroused by our lesson and start doing things unbeknownst to us.”
“You’re right,” Hermione said sadly. “I just wish we could help them; somehow show them what to do. But we have to do it without out them being in the room.”
Out of the blue, an idea came to Harry. He recalled Dumbledore’s lessons from the previous year where Harry saw Voldemort’s life through a series of Pensieve memories. He suddenly realized how he could help his best friend’s love life.
“We can use a Pensieve,” offered Harry. “I’ll eat you out, pausing once in a while to give pointers, and then we put our memories in a Pensive and give it to Ron and Luna as a gift.”
“That’s actually a good idea. That way, Ron and Luna could watch in a way,” Hermione agreed. Then the brunette witch got a devilish smile on her face and repeated, “That way Ron and Luna could watch.”
It was clear that she was getting turned on over the notion that someone was going to watch her being intimate with Harry, if only by proxy.
“When should we do it?” Harry asked. He really didn’t need to ask that question, judging by Hermione’s/ “come shag me eyes” and her wicked smile, he knew the answer would be “right now.”/
Without answering, Hermione led Harry into their room. Before he closed the door, Harry turned to Dobby and said, “Dobby, if anybody calls for us, tell them we’re… ah… tied up, okay?”
Inside their room, Hermione turned to an empty space on the wall and spoke as if someone was there; “Ron and Luna; Harry and I have decided to help you. You two are our best friends and so we are going to let you watch… in a fashion.”
Hermione sauntered over to Harry and slowly began undressing him. After she pulled his shirt over his head, she turned back to the empty space on the wall and said “The most important thing you have to do when you perform cunnilingus is trust each other. Ron, if Luna tells you to do something different, it isn’t a critique. She just knows what feels good to her and you need to listen to her.”
She turned to Harry and he knew from her expression that she wanted him to add some hints. So Harry turned his attention to the same wall and added “I have an advantage over most people because of my parsletongue ability. But I will go down on Her-”
“Harry, please don’t use such crude phrases,” interrupted Hermione. “Refer to it as/ ‘cunnilingus’./”
“Um, Hermione, Ron and Luna are going to be watching us pleasure each other,” Harry retorted. “I don’t think it really maters if we use sophisticated terms.”
“Good point,” Hermione said with a shrug of her shoulders.
“Anyway, as I was saying,” Harry continued to the wall. “I will go down on Hermione without using my parsletongue.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Hermione pout slightly. Clearly she had become spoiled by his unique power.
“But as Hermione has said to you, Luna, my technique is still good,” Harry said.
Then Harry turned back to Hermione and the two began to undress each other. Once they were naked, Harry guided Hermione to lie on her back and he spread her legs wide.
“Now, I don’t know what you guys have done, so I’ll just go over the basics first. This is the vagina,” he said and gestured to Hermione’s flower. “It’s made up of several parts. Including, but not limited to the clitoris, the labia majora, and labia minora. Learn it, love it.”
Hermione chuckled at Harry’s comment.
“You can’t just go right after the clitoris,” Hermione said after she suppressed her soft laughter. “It’s really sensitive and you have to work your way up to it.”
“You can start by gently rubbing the labia and kissing it softly,” Harry said and demonstrated. Hermione purred softly as Harry worked her petals for a while.
“Once she’s ready, you can move on to the more advanced stuff,” Harry said.
“And trust me, Ron, you’ll know when she’s ready,” Hermione said with a saucy smile.
Harry then began presenting the/ “advanced stuff”. /He showed different ways to stimulate the clit. And he even showed how he could use both the tongue and fingers to satisfy a witch.
It took longer to please Hermione than it did when he used his parsletongue ability, but she was satisfied none the less. She cried out in passion a few minutes after Harry started. Panting, she turned back to the wall and concluded; “I hope you two have learned something that will help. Now it you’ll excuse me, I have to shag Harry rotten.”
Before Harry could react, Hermione pounced on him and guided his erect organ into her wetness.
“Do – ah/- you- /oh/- think – they’ll – /my goodness – like – yummy – the Pensieve?” she asked as she bounced up and down.
“If not, we can always make a new one and try again,” Harry grunted happily.
To Be Continued
Author’s Notes: The Book Bag gift (the Notably Toteable Library Satchel) is an homage (read: “stolen from”) Arya’s Harry Potter and the Acceptance of Fate. In my opinion, “Harry Potter and the Acceptance of Fate” is the best (and regrettably abandoned) fan-fiction out there.
I had this image of Ginny hobbling up to Harry and Hermione and proudly proclaiming that Neville was so endowed that she could use her forearm as a measuring tool several months ago. Then I read Dr. T’s “Re-Ordered” and I cursed when one character described another as being “As big as my forearm.” Damn.
Next Up: Horcrux Hunting! See, I remembered there’s more to this story besides smut.

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Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor
Chapter Four
Disclamer: Not mine, I own nothing. I’m not making any money
WARNING: Harsh Language, adult themes, sexual situations (i.e. smut), bad spelling and grammar.
Author’s Notes: This story is a broad farce with over the top humor (a good deal of it is crude and sexual) and OOC actions (that’s Out Of Character if you don’t know). Also, this is my first smut-ish fic. If you don’t like sex and sex-based humor, do NOT read this!
Chapter Four Summary: Harry and Hermione head to the Burrow for the Wedding.
Without uttering a sound, Tonks slowly closed the door to Harry’s dorm room, leaving the young man and woman in their very compromising, and very naked, position. Harry stared at the door expecting Tonks to bust through once more, saying something along the lines of: “Time for breakfast kids. Oh wait, you two have already /eaten/” with far too much emphasis on the word “eaten.”
After what seemed like minutes, Hermione finally spoke up: “um… I don’t think she’ll be back. Let’s clean up and head to the Common Room.”
“What do you reckon she’ll do?” asked Harry as he untangled himself from Hermione’s legs.
“I don’t know,” answered Hermione. She then waved her wand over her body and magically cleaned herself. “But I’m certain that it’ll be terribly embarrassing.”
Harry could still feel Hermione’s warm liquid on his face. He felt as if the bottom half of his face must have borne a striking resemblance to a glazed doughnut at the time. Harry remembered his conversation with Hermione from the day before where she had said that she wasn’t messy but he certainly was. With a grin on his wet face, Harry said to Hermione, “Looks like you’re just as messy as me.”
Hermione blushed a beautiful shade of scarlet and smiled in an impish way. Harry was taken back at how beautiful she was at that moment and he made a silent promise to try to make her smile as much as he could from then on.
“I guess I am rather… messy, aren’t I?” Hermione responded and performed the same cleansing charm on Harry. He was a tad disappointed when her wetness disappeared from his face; he rather liked her smell and he definitely liked her taste. After she found her knickers (which were still floating in the air), Hermione cursed, “My clothes are in my room, all I have over here is my nightgown!”
“Don’t worry,” stated Harry in-between hops (his boxers were hovering just out of reach), “we’ll transfigure your dressing gown until we can get you something more suitable.”
A short while later, the two teens ventured into the Gryffindor Common Room to find Remus Lupin sitting at one of the tables writing something with Tonks leaning over their former DADA professor. Upon noticing Harry and Hermione, Remus casually folded up the paper he was writing on and placed it inside his robes.
“Good morning, you two,” Remus greeted them as if nothing peculiar had happened. Even though she hadn’t said anything yet, Harry noticed that Tonks still had that devilish gleam in her eyes. “Get ready; we have a big day ahead of us,” Remus concluded.
“Bu… bu… I… ah…” stammered Harry. He had expected to be teased by either Tonks or Remus. “What’s so important about today?”
“What’s so important?” Remus repeated. “We have to go to Diagon Alley to buy both of you some formal robes for Bill and Fleur’s wedding tomorrow. But more importantly, today’s the most important day in your life, Harry. Today’s the day you’ve become a man!” Remus declared proudly.
Harry felt his face heat up at Remus’ statement; he could tell that Hermione was just as embarrassed as he was. ‘What did Tonks think she saw?’ Harry realized that Tonks must’ve thought that he and Hermione had gone all the way and had lost their virginity and she told Remus about it! Why else would Remus make the comment about Harry becoming a “man?” Harry was about to object to Remus’ remarks, to defend himself, but mostly to defend Hermione’s honor, when Remus walked forward and hugged him.
“Happy Birthday, Harry!” said Remus affectionately. “It’s your seventeenth birthday, and according to Wizarding society, you’re a man.” Harry felt a wave of relief pass through his body, Remus didn’t know! Tonks must not have told him about the situation that she had found Harry and Hermione in. “So today is your day, Mr. Potter! We’re off to Diagon Alley.”
“Let me just get some things from my room before we head out,” said Hermione nervously, as she dashed up the stairs to her room.
Several minutes later, after Hermione had inconspicuously changed into some fresh clothes, the group headed to the Headmistress’ office to use the floo. Harry exited the floo into The Leaky Cauldron by gracefully falling flat on his face. Tonks casually stepped over his body and helped the young wizard up from the ground. Harry looked into her bright, black eyes and still saw that devilish look, as if Tonks was waiting for the most embarrassing moment to make a rude comment about what she had seen earlier.
“You really need to learn how to land better, Harry,” Tonks offered almost innocently. It was almost innocent, because Harry could tell that she had desperately wanted to say something else, something less than “innocent.” Maybe something like: “Yeah, my knees tend to get weak after a good roll in the hay as well…”
As they walked out of the Leaky Caldron, Hermione whispered into Harry’s ear: “I swear, I thought that Tonks was going to say something crude back there when you fell out of the floo. Could you imagine how embarrassing it would be if she did say something, especially in front of all those people?”
Harry nodded his head in agreement.
The group spent a good three hours at Madame Malkin’s robe shopping (Harry only needed fifteen minutes to find his dress robes, the rest of the time was used by Hermione trying to decide between a lilac dress and a mauve one). Harry made a grievous error halfway through the second hour of what he called “The Great Purple Debate”: he made the suggestion that maybe Hermione should try on something in pink. Hermione was deeply offended at such a suggestion. How Harry didn’t know she looked wretched in pink was beyond her. She never wore pink!
After Harry’s grievous faux pas, they went to Flourish and Blotts where, unsurprisingly, Harry lost track of Hermione somewhere in the Arithmancy section. After Harry had passed some time by skimming through several books on defense, he found Hermione in a dark and dusty corner of the shop, with her nose buried in a book that had to have been heavier than she was. As the sun set on an exhausting day, the foursome headed back to the Leaky Caldron for Harry’s birthday dinner. For dessert, since they couldn’t go to Florean Fortescue’s seeing how Voldemort had developed a wicked sweet tooth and kidnapped the ice cream maker, they had to try Tom’s attempts at ice cream.
“Have a go at this one, folks,” Tom announced, as he placed four bowls filled with scoops of ice cream made up of several colors in front of the group. “Made it meself this afternoon.”
Harry, being a brave Gryffindor (except when it came to dealing with zombies), was the first to sample the multi-colored confection. The birthday boy nodded his head in approval; it tasted like a delicious mixture of chocolate and strawberries. Tom beamed with pride before turning away and heading back to the bar.
“What’s it taste like, Harry?” Hermione asked dubiously, as she eyed a bright pink ripple wedged in-between two forest green ripples.
“Chocolate and strawberries,” answered Harry.
“Oh,” Tonks squealed while spooning up a blue, orange, and what appeared to be black ripples of ice cream. “I love strawberries and chocolate!”
Both Remus and Hermione followed suit as Tonks ate her first spoonful.
“That’s funny,” stated Remus as he worked the frozen dessert in his mouth. “I taste caramel.”
“I taste peanut butter,” offered Hermione as she scooped another spoonful.
A bit perplexed by his friends’ tasting something completely different than he, Harry tried another spoonful. His taste buds sensed chocolate with a hint of strawberries at first, then, slowly, a new and somewhat peculiar taste entered his mouth: prunes. Before he could spit out the nasty combination of flavors, Tonks announced: “Merlin, I’m getting maple syrup flavor now!”
“I think the green color is lobster, and the yellow ripple is raw bread dough!” Hermione stated as she discreetly spit the ice cream into her napkin. Harry noted that she had a very similar distasteful look on her face as the one she had right after she gave him his “birthday present” earlier.
Harry and Tonks copied Hermione’s lead by spitting the remnants of the frozen dessert into their napkins while Remus continued to shovel the ice cream into his mouth.
“Remus, love, how can you eat that?” Tonks asked, obviously disgusted.
“I turn into a wolf every month,” explained Remus. “In wolf form, I sometimes eat my own fecal waste. This is an improvement.”
“Not by much,” added Harry.
After they had their dessert, or rather, after Remus finished their desserts for them, the group flooed back to Hogwarts.
“Remus, do you know if the school will be in session for the next term?” asked Hermione as they walked toward the Gryffindor Common Room.
“It’s still up in the air,” stated Remus. “The members of the Board of Governors are still debating.”
“And right now, they’re leaning toward shutting the school down,” Tonks added glumly.
“But, why?” Hermione implored. “Surely a Headmaster has died before. And the school didn’t close when Grindelwald was in power!”
“So why close the school now?” Harry completed for Hermione.
“Yes, Headmasters have died while in office before, but one has never been murdered during term, and on school grounds,” explained Remus. “Making the situation even worse is that Albus was murdered by another teacher…”
The group spent the rest of the journey to the Common Room in silence. Harry pondered sullenly what would’ve happened if he had been able to break through Dumbledore’s Full Body Bind. Would he have been able to help the ailing Headmaster? Could he have saved the old man’s life? ‘Not likely,’ Harry realized. He probably would’ve been killed along with Dumbledore.
Upon entering the dimly-lit Common Room, Remus asked, “Harry, would you light the fire, please?”
“Sure thing,” replied Harry while drawing his wand. After aiming at the dark hearth, Harry muttered, “Incendio,” casting only a small amount of his power into the fire charm.
Harry, along with everyone else in the room, had expected a normal sized fireball (no larger than a snitch) to shoot out of the tip of his wand. They were all shocked when a huge fireball, nearly a meter in diameter, erupted out of Harry’s wand! Not only did the hearth ignite, but the mantle and a large portion of the wall surrounding the stone fireplace caught on fire as well.
Harry, Hermione, Remus, and Tonks all stared dumbly at the growing inferno. After two or three seconds, Hermione, Remus, and Tonks turned their attention to Harry, that is to say they stared dumbly at the bespectacled wizard. It was only after the ceiling had caught on fire that the foursome snapped out of their stupor and used their wands to put out the fire.
“Blimey, Harry!” Tonks exclaimed. “You didn’t have to use that much power!”
“I didn’t…” murmured Harry. “At least, I think I didn’t.”
After putting out the fire, Remus and Tonks sat on the couch.
“Have a seat you two,” Remus requested. Harry really didn’t want to spend more time with Remus. Not that he didn’t normally enjoy Remus’ company. But right now, Harry wanted nothing more than to sneak off into a secluded spot and practice his newfound skills concerning his Parselmouth abilities and Hermione’s nether region. Unfortunately, Harry’s plans of ravishing Hermione were dashed when Remus said in a serious tone: “We need to have a talk.”
At Remus’ comment, Harry and Hermione shared a concerned look. Would their old Defense professor chastise them for their actions? Or, would Remus give them the dreaded ‘Sex Talk’? Harry imagined an awkward Remus trying his best to give him the ‘Talk.’
‘Now,’ Harry heard Remus’ voice in his head, ‘sometimes a unicorn meets a Hippogriff… and… ah… sometimes the Hippogriff likes the unicorn in a very… special way… And if the hippogriff is lucky and the Unicorn likes him back… and she doesn’t have a headache at the time… Something… err… wonderful happens…’
“It’s suddenly dawned on me that no one has talked to you about…” Remus paused, searching for the proper word. Harry’s blood chilled, Remus was going to talk to him about… it! “No one has talked to you about… your folks.”
Harry plopped down in an arm chair with both a sense of relief (because Remus wasn’t going to talk about sex) and curiosity. Remus was correct: no one had bothered to actually sit Harry down and talk to him about his parents before.
“Now it’s true, your father was arrogant during our first few years at Hogwarts,” Remus began. “And he could be… mean, but the people to whom he was mean to usually deserved it.”
“I saw in Snape’s pensieve that Dad just hexed him, for no reason at all,” Harry said dejectedly.
“I’ve been thinking about that incident for a while now. Your father didn’t start that confrontation.” Remus informed him.
“But I saw it,” Harry argued. “Snape was sitting there minding his own business…”
“Severus Snape was, and is, a conniving, self-righteous, bigot,” Remus stated. “He started that particular confrontation the previous day, by hiding in the shadows and hexing your father. Snape was always following us around, trying to catch us in our misdeeds so that he could get us in trouble. And when he couldn’t catch us in the act, he would jinx or hex one of us; usually James.
“I remember it quite clearly. The day before that incident, James was hit with a Confundus Charm right as we started our Potion OWLs. The entire test, James kept tipping his cauldron over and Snape would laugh uproariously. James ended up failing the test simply because Snape wanted to be the best in the class and James was his only competition.”
“So, did Snape use the Confundus on Mum as well?” asked Harry.
“Why would he have?” Remus questioned with a befuddled look on his face. “Snape didn’t see her as competition. Lily was absolute rubbish at Potions.”
“But Slughorn told me that Mum was one of the best!” Harry said. “The finest he’d ever seen!”
“I’m sure you know this by now, Harry. Slughorn loves to be around famous and popular people,” explained Remus. “And he’s never had a student as famous as you are Harry. Most likely Slughorn told you lies about Lily and her potions prowess in an attempt to get you to think of him as a connection to your parents. That way, he would be able to continue to ply you to join his menagerie of famous people. He probably used Lily because Slughorn held a grudge against James. Slughorn made sure there were no questions about his attitude toward your father. He decided that James’ poor showing during the OWLs meant that your father had been cheating his entire school career. Slughorn took that as a personal attack against his honor; he refused to acknowledge James ever again. Besides, look at it this way Harry: if Lily truly was the best potions student Slughorn had ever met, wouldn’t Snape have rubbed that fact in your face as a comparison to your abilities? He definitely wouldn’t have missed any more opportunities to humiliate you, would he?
“No, your mother’s specialty was in Charms,” concluded Remus. “Lily was a very special woman, even when we were just kids. She was the first girl who wasn’t impressed by James’ charm, nor was she intimidated by his antics. I think that’s how he first became attracted to her. Lily helped James mature into a good and decent man.”
Remus continued for hours, talking to Harry not just about his parents, but Sirius as well. Some stories were enlightening, others, bittersweet. But most of the stories centered on James’ sense of humor.
“The night after you were born,” Remus said while laughing, “James told Sirius that he was your godfather. Well, Sirius was so proud that he Apparated right to the Leaky Cauldron and announced to everyone there the happy news! So there he was, standing on the bar no less, shouting at the top of his lungs that he, Sirius Black, was Harry Potter’s godfather! The only problem was that your father discretely placed a Transparency Charm on Sirius’ clothes before he Apparated away without Sirius noticing! Let me tell you, everyone there got an eyeful of Sirius that night!”
Remus was about to start another story when Hermione unsuccessfully tried to stifle a yawn and Tonks let out an unladylike snore. Remus checked the clock above the mantle (the clock which had to be repaired because of Harry’s supercharged fireball) and saw that it was a quarter to one in the morning.
“Oh, dear, it looks like I’ve kept you up long enough,” Remus announced. “We have a big day tomorrow, so off to bed everyone.” Tonks chose this time to let out another loud, rafter-rattling snore. “Everyone except Tonks. No need for her to go to bed, she’s already asleep.”
Harry didn’t care how late it was; he wanted to stay up the rest of the night, just so he could hear more stories about his parents. The young wizard was about to protest when both Remus and Hermione let out yawns.
“We’ll have plenty of time to catch up later, Harry.” Remus told Harry and patted him reassuringly on the shoulder. Harry nodded his head in agreement.
“Good night, you two,” said Remus and he pulled out his wand. With a few simple wand movements, the older wizard conjured a small cot next to the couch where the pink haired witch was sleeping.
Harry and Hermione shared a look; they both knew that they wouldn’t be able to “experiment” with Remus and Tonks in the Common Room. So they bid each other a simple good night and turned to their respective rooms. Harry was about to walk up the stairs when a sudden, uncontrollable urge came over him: he had to kiss Hermione good night. He didn’t care if Remus found out. Harry turned around and saw Hermione was about to walk up the stairs leading up to her room. He also saw Remus watching him. The latter smiled slightly at Harry and, luckily for Harry, turned his attention to fluffing his pillow. Harry rushed over to Hermione and as silently as he could, spun her around and before she could utter a sound, placed his lips to hers. Nothing mattered to Harry anymore, not Remus, not Tonks, not Voldemort or his stupid Horcuxes, and certainly not the world. All that mattered to Harry at that moment was Hermione, she was his everything.
While the two teens were kissing, Harry could swear that he felt two pairs of eyes watching them. He couldn’t care less; he was kissing the most wonderful woman in the world. When they finally broke their kiss, Harry turned to see Tonks still sleeping on the couch, but Remus was still diligently fluffing his pillow. Harry quietly made his way up to his dorm room.
Harry wasn’t ready for sleep just yet, so he decided to read another chapter from his ‘special book.’ Harry pulled The Magic of Making Love out of his bag and opened it to a random page near the middle. The chapter that Harry had gone to was entitled: “Pleasure Pressure Points: The Touch of Love.” Unfortunately, this chapter didn’t contain any interesting magical photos, but it did have numerous diagrams and drawings. According to the diagrams and specifications, a witch had “pleasure pressure points” all over her body. If a wizard were to touch one of these “points” and gently force his magic through it, the empowered touch would give the witch physical pleasure. The text stated the different points would elicit different levels of pleasure. One example stated that if the wizard were to gently, yet steadily, force his magic through a point of the small of the back, the witch would rapidly orgasm. As Harry continued reading he noticed that the range in the physical reaction was truly stunning. According to the book if the same wizard were to use the same technique on a pressure point on the back of the witch’s hand, she would experience only the amount of pleasure equal to that of a kiss, pleasurable, but not orgasmic. Harry read and reread the chapter, skipping over theories and benefits, trying to remember the most of the “pleasure pressure points” as possible.
Harry awoke in the morning with his ‘special book’ open and lying on his chest. Apparently, he had fallen asleep while rereading “Pleasure Pressure Points: The Touch of Love” for the fourth time. Harry noticed the clock and saw that he had less than an hour before he had to get to the Burrow for Bill and Fleur’s wedding! He took a rapid shower and had dressed so fast that he almost forgot to put on his shoes. Harry hopped down the stairs to the Common Room while trying to tie his shoes at the same time. When he got to the Common Room, Harry found Hermione waiting for him.
Once more, Harry forgot to breathe. To say that Hermione looked stunning in her red and gold gown (apparently, “The Great Purple Debate” was lost by both lilac and mauve when this little red and gold number entered the fray) was an understatement. The neckline of the gown showed just a touch of enticing cleavage and the fabric hugged Hermione’s form. Her hair was tastefully done up in a loose bun, which accentuated her beautiful smile and eyes.
“Hello Harry,” Hermione greeted him. “You look very handsome.”
Harry tried to return the compliment by saying that she was a ‘stunning vision of beauty.’ Unfortunately, she was such a stunning vision of beauty that Harry found it very difficult to speak properly. The best compliment that he could voice was: “guh… uhh… muh… err… wow!” He ended this wonderfully poetic statement with what would be best described as a soft gurgling noise.
Hermione blushed at Harry’s attempted compliment and after a moment, became very serious.
“Harry, about Ron…” she began. “I think I should be the one to tell him about… us.”
Harry suddenly felt very bad. He hadn’t thought about Ron at all in the past two days. He dreaded how Ron would feel when he found out that Harry had gotten together with the girl he fancied. But Ron was his best mate, and in Harry’s mind, he should be the one to break the news to Ron.
“No, I’ll do it,” Harry stated. “He’s my best mate…”
“And I was the one dating him,” Hermione interrupted. “I thought about this all night, Harry. I’ve already planned on what to tell him.”
“Are you sure?” Harry asked unsure with the plan.
“Yes, I am,” Hermione said confidently. “But, could you be with me when I tell him?”
“Yes, anything for you Hermione,” Harry said and stroked her arm reassuringly.
A gentle cough drew the two teens’ attention to Remus who was standing a few feet away from them. He had his ever-present kind and patient look in his eyes, while Tonks, who was standing arm in arm with Remus, still had that unsettling devilish look in her eyes. Harry shivered at that look and wondered when Tonks would spring into action by saying something like: “Cor, Harry, you’ve got some dribble on your chin… oh wait, that’s just Hermione’s dribble.”
“If you two are ready, we’ll go to Minerva’s office and portkey to the Burrow,” stated Remus.
After greeting McGonagall in the Headmistress’ office, the group circled around an old tea kettle. McGonagall gently tapped the kettle and said “Portus.”
Everyone placed their finger on the portkey and Harry prepared himself for the familiar tug behind his navel. Within seconds, Harry felt the tug of portkey travel. Everyone landed on the grassy knoll behind the Burrow with elegance and style, that is, everyone except Harry. The young wizard landed painfully on a rock; unfortunately for Harry it wasn’t a rock. It was a very angry and perturbed Gnome.
“GET IT OFF OF ME!” Harry bellowed as the tiny creature tried to bite and claw at his face.
“Pestis Avolo!” Remus incanted and the pesky Gnome rocketed off of Harry’s face. Hermione quickly helped Harry to his feet.
Harry gazed in wonder at the field behind the Burrow. It had been magically transformed into something out of a fairy tale. Beautiful and brightly colored flowers and plants bordered where the guest were to be seated. Scores of chairs, each one different and unique from the other, as if several people conjured them but didn’t bother to try to make them look alike, were placed in rows in front of a large dais. The dais, where Harry assumed the ceremony would take place, was decorated with intricate lace curtains draped over ivory colored arches and the same colorful flowers that surrounded the guests.
“Remus? Remus Lupin is that you?” a blonde witch called out. “I haven’t seen you since our days at Hogwarts!”
“Chrysanthemum Hamilton, it’s been ages,” Remus replied. The former Marauder turned to Harry and Hermione and said: “You two find some seats; I want to talk to Chrysanthemum and introduce Tonks.”
Harry and Hermione silently took their seats in the back row of the groom’s side and both watched as the guests began to trickle in. At first, they didn’t recognize anyone who had shown up, most of the early guests appeared to be around Mr. and Mrs. Weasley’s age. Harry heard Tonks let out a snort and a chuckle and saw that she and Remus were having a laugh while talking to the witch named Chrysanthemum.
“I’m terrified that Tonks will say something embarrassing about us,” Hermione breathed in Harry’s ear. “I just know she’s waiting for the most opportune time for her to do it. And it’ll be the most horrible moment possible for us.”
Harry gulped and nodded his head in agreement.
The pair’s attention was drawn toward a rather large group of people. Some of this boisterous group were carrying magical cameras while others were being very rude by shouting out questions.
“… How well do you know the bride and groom?” asked a man with a whiney tone as three flashes erupted from different cameras.
“Is it standard procedure now to attend every wedding?” a woman with a shrill voice questioned, and four more flashes went off.
“Please, show some respect!” a booming voice commanded, a voice that Harry recognized as belonging to Rufus Scrimgeour. The crowd of reporters stepped back and revealed the Minister of Magic. “Arthur Weasley has been a loyal employee for the Ministry for many years. I came by to give him and his family my regards on this wonderful day,” the Minister stated, a little too mechanically, as if he had been coached to say that exact phrase. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must go and find my seat.”
The pack of reporters sulked off to stand behind the rows of chairs. A short rotund man with a walrus-like mustache pushed his way through the dejected reporters.
“What’s that ponce doing here?” Hermione hissed in Harry’s ear after seeing the latest arrival.
“Simple, it’s a social gathering,” explained Harry, sourly, “and Slughorn is nothing more than an attention whore who revels in these situations.”
“Sorry about that,” Remus stated as he and Tonks took the seats next to Harry. “But I haven’t seen Chrysanthemum for ages. She was the most popular girl in the year ahead of us, and we used to always prank her.”
Soft music started to play and the guest became very quiet. All eyes turned to the back row, towards the Burrow, where the bridal party would be coming out of shortly.
The first of the bride’s maids and groom’s men to exit the house was none other than Ron and Ginny. Normally Harry would’ve thought that the dress looked pretty and that the pale green color suited her. But Harry noticed that the gown had a plunging neckline that revealed her humble cleavage. During the last school year, Harry would have been aroused at such a sight. However after the epiphany where Harry realized that Ginny bore a striking resemblance to his /mother/, he now found the sight of Ginny’s flesh disturbing.
As the siblings walked up the isle, arm in arm, Ginny spotted Harry straight away and acted cool and aloof; as if seeing him was nothing important, something that she was almost bored with. A ridiculously wide grin stretched across Ron’s face when he saw Hermione.
“Oh, no Ron,” Hermione moaned. “Don’t do anything foolish.”
“What makes you think he’ll do anything like that?” asked Harry.
“Because he’s Ron,” Hermione answered simply.
Whereas Ginny acted cool when she saw Harry, Ron’s reaction was somewhat different; some may even be as bold as to say that his reaction was the complete opposite of cool and aloof. The red-haired wizard hopped up and down waving at the brunette witch.
“Hermione! Hermione! Hi!” Ron called out in a very, very loud stage whisper, as he continued his antics to get her attention. “You look smashing!”
Hermione groaned pitifully as nearly every guest turned their attention toward her and began to whisper and speak amongst themselves.
The next couple to walk out of the Burrow was Fred and an unknown woman, more than likely one of Fleur’s friends. They were quickly followed by Charlie and Gabriele, both of whom looked striking.
Harry and Hermione turned their attention toward the bridal stage and saw that Bill had already taken his place with a Vicar standing next to him. Ron escorted Ginny to her spot on the bride’s side and then walked to his position on the groom’s side. When he took his place, Ron once again waved at Hermione. Harry overheard a witch a few rows ahead of them comment at Ron’s wave saying; “That young man up there and the girl behind us must be very much in love.”
Harry thought that Hermione looked like she was about to faint, her face was as white as a sheet and her body was completely rigid.
After Bill, Gabriele, Fred, and his partner took their places, the music changed to the wedding march. All eyes (except for three people: Ron, who couldn’t take his eyes off of Hermione, Hermione, who was still frozen like she was hit with a Full Body Bind, and Harry, who kept looking worriedly between his two best friends) turned to see Fleur, who was a vision of beauty, exit the house with her father.
The Vicar gave a speech about soul mates and how Bill and Fleur were lucky enough to find such love between each other. Harry noted that Ron had a hopeful look in his eyes as he looked at Hermione while the Vicar spoke of soul mates. Hermione was still as pale and rigid as before, but Harry could actually hear her teeth grinding together. Ron was making her so nervous that Harry no longer feared that his beautiful friend would faint anymore, he was now worried that she would have an aneurism. Evidently, Hermione was very worried about the upcoming “talk” with Ron about their recent developments. That, as well as being obviously quite angry that Ron was embarrassing her, as well as himself, as he continually waved at her from the dais during the ceremony.
Harry felt that he needed to calm her down, for her own good, being so tense could not be good for her. That’s when Harry remembered the section in his ‘special book’ on Pleasure Points. He was certain that his new-found skills could help calm Hermione down.
Harry placed the pad of his right thumb on the back of Hermione’s left hand, which, according to his favorite book, was the location of one of the lesser Pleasure Points. Slowly, Harry rubbed her hand in a circular motion. After a moment, Harry started to gently push his magic through Hermione’s hand. Almost instantaneously, Harry noticed that Hermione began to relax and loosen up a bit. A small smile appeared on her face that told Harry that she was appreciative of his efforts. But he could tell that Hermione was still very tense. Harry decided that to help Hermione, he needed to tap into his power core for more energy.
“Do you, Bill, take Fleur to be you wife?” asked the Vicar.
Harry found it slightly ironic that it was Hermione who was the one who first told Harry that he was an unusually powerful wizard. Judging how tense Hermione appeared, Harry needed all the help he could get to get through to her.
“I do,” responded Bill with pride.
As he continued to massage her hand while pushing his magic into Hermione, Harry started to concentrate on his power core: love. He focused on happy, even loving memories about Hermione and himself. He recalled all the times she has been there for him, all the times she showed genuine concern about him, and compassion for him.
Before the Vicar could ask Fleur the same question, Hermione slumped slightly in her chair. A rosy bloom appeared on her face and exposed skin of her neck and torso. Harry took pride in being able to help Hermione relax, and he decided that it would do her some good to relax even more.
“Do you, Fleur, take Bill to be your husband?” the Vicar asked of the lovely bride.
“I do,” Fleur replied with joyful tears in her eyes.
To make Hermione even more relaxed and peaceful, Harry focused his thoughts on the events of the previous morning, when he strove so hard to give her pleasure. He remembered what she tasted like on his tongue, how wonderful her legs felt wrapped around his head, and how she called out his name when she had an orgasm. That’s when Harry realized that he may have gone a little too far tapping into his power core.
The rosy bloom quickly turned into a bright red color as Hermione’s breath became labored and she had to bite her lip to stop a moan of pleasure. Tiny beads of sweat blossomed all over her skin Hermione locked eyes with Harry; the look was a combination of desire, of wishing for this feeling to continue, as well as a questioning look, as if she was asking him how he was doing this with a simple touch? A deceptively simple question, to which Harry had no answer. According to the segments of the book that he read, the Pleasure Points he decided to focus on should’ve only given her a little pleasure; Harry had specifically chosen the area designed to impart the pleasure equivalent to a simple kiss. But somehow, Hermione was receiving a lot more than just ‘a little pleasure.’ Harry was in so much shock that he didn’t realize that he was still continuing to massage Hermione’s hand’s Pleasure Points while simultaneously pushing his love-based magic into her.
Harry could faintly smell the distinctive musky odor of Hermione’s juices. Harry looked in shock and surprise as a small wet spot appeared on Hermione’s gown at her lap. He reckoned that she must be flowing right about now. Harry could also see that her nipples had become quite erect as well, even through her bra and the fabric of her gown ‘Carmella’ and ‘Natasha’ looked as if they were about to break free.
After the newly married couple had kissed, the Vicar turned to the assembled family and guests. “If you’re new to a magical wedding, like some of our Muggle-born guest,” he began, “I would like to explain a tradition we have. This tradition is based on the idea of community. At this time, I would like to call on any guest to speak up and give their blessings to the new couple.”
Unfortunately, it was at this point that Hermione lost a bit of her self control and roughly kicked the chair in front of her. The old wizard who was occupying that chair stood up in surprise.
“Ah, Mr. Oseran,” the Vicar said, indicating the old man who just stood up because Hermione had kicked his chair. “What would you like to say to the bride and groom?”
“Um… err… I… ah…” Mr. Oseran stammered. He obviously didn’t have anything to say, but he couldn’t just tell that to the Vicar and sit down, now could he? Unfortunately for Mr. Oseran and Mrs. Oseran, who was mortified by her husband’s following statement, the best he could come up with was “Enjoy making sprogs, you two.”
Every single person in attendance drew a collective gasp at Mr. Oseran’s “blessing.” Although Harry was fairly certain that Fred and George found the scene to be hilarious.
“Thank you Mr. Oseran,” the Vicar said, a little taken back at the old man’s comment. “Would anyone else like to add their blessings?”
It was as if the fates had a personal grudge against Hermione. Because it was at this most inauspicious time that the building ecstasy hit Hermione like a rampaging Blast-Ended Skrewt.
“OH GOD, YES!” Hermione cried out at the top of her lungs.
“My, what an enthusiastic young witch!” the Vicar declared. “Please, my dear, stand up.”
Hermione’s face was a mask of fear and trepidation; she looked to Harry for support. Her eyes pleaded with Harry, asking him what should she do, what should she say? Harry, being the heroic wizard that he was, got up and helped her stand. Regrettably for Hermione, that’s about all the support that he could muster at that time.
“I-I-I-I would like,” began Hermione, unsteady in her own words. “I would like to give the couple my blessing… ?” She somehow ended the statement as a question.
“Thank you, dear,” the Vicar said, oblivious to what Hermione had just been through. “Anyone else?”
As another person stood up, and gave a real blessing this time, Harry and Hermione sat back down. As discreetly as he could, Harry waved his wand over Hermione’s lap and performed a Cleansing Charm.
Tonks was having some difficulty breathing; she had stuffed her fist into her mouth in an attempt to stop herself from laughing. Tears streamed down her face as she looked at the two teens. Harry knew with certainty that she would never let them live this down.
“Hermione, are you alright?” Remus asked with genuine concern in his voice. Harry noticed that the concern in his voice didn’t quite reach his eyes, though. His eyes showed something akin to mirth.
“I’m fine, Remus,” Hermione answered, obviously not noticing the mirthful look in his eyes.
After four more people gave their best wishes to Bill and Fleur, one of which was a blubbering Molly Weasley, the Vicar called an end to the ceremony by saying, “If everyone to be as so kind, please head over to the reception area.”
As a group, all the guests walked toward the area indicated and came upon another decorated field. Mind you, the entire time everyone was walking, Ron kept waving and calling out to Hermione, trying to get her attention, which only seemed to further embarrass Hermione. There was another elevated stage, much like the one where the ceremony was performed, but this stage had a long table on it. Harry assumed that the members of the bridal party were to sit there. In front of the stage was a wooden dance floor. And in front of the dance floor, dozens of tables were strewn about on the grassy field. Each of the tables had four settings and each table was beautifully decorated with flowers as their centerpiece. In the middle of the center piece, a tented piece of purple paper stood out.
“We’re over here you two,” Remus called out as he held a chair out for Tonks. Harry followed the older wizard’s example and held out a chair for Hermione. Three tables away, Harry saw Scrimgeour sit down. He wondered what such an important political figure was doing at the Weasley’s wedding.
“Why’s the Minister here, anyway?” asked Hermione, voicing Harry’s question.
“He’s probably trying to bolster public moral,” informed Tonks. “You know the drill, reinforcing the fact that we should continue with our normal lives even though there’s a war going on.”
“Did he bring any extra security?” asked Harry while he scanned the parameter of the field in hopes of finding guards.
“There has to be,” stated Hermione as she too joined Harry in his visual search for security. “What if the Death Eaters attack? It would be an opportune time for it. This would be too perfect a target to pass up.”
“Well, the Ministry has taken steps if such an attack happens,” said Remus as he pointed out the purple flyer that was set at the middle of the center piece. Hermione picked up the flyer and Harry leaned in close so that he could read along with her.
The very official looking flyer stated:
“In case of an attack by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and/or his followers (Death Eaters, Werewolves, Giants, Vampires, Inferi), Harry J. Potter (AKA The-Boy-Who-Lived, The-Chosen-One, and Dumbledore’s Man Through and Through) will orally stimulate Hermione J. Granger in hopes of a powerful bout of accidental magic wherein the attacking forces will be hit with a series of Hovering Charms and be rendered helpless.
“If the bout of accidental magic doesn’t occur, then at least our last remaining moments on this planet will be entertaining as we watch Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger in their efforts.
“As a precaution, the Ministry recommends that the guest surrounding Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger should cast an Umbrella Charm as Ms. Granger is inclined to get very wet and things around her tend to get thoroughly soaked.”
Harry broke out in a cold sweat. He looked at Hermione and saw that the witch was trembling and her eyes were about to pop out of her head.
“Quite ingenious actually, if you think about it” Remus stated. “Voldemort would never expect such a defense.”
Remus leaned over to the table next to them and asked the grey haired wizard who was reading his own pamphlet; “What do you think about that?”
“It looks delightful,” the man replied as he licked his lips hungrily.
Harry looked around him and saw that nearly every guest was pointing at the pamphlets and talking amongst themselves in jolly tones. Harry and Hermione shared a mortified look. Without speaking to each other, they both shot out of their chairs. Hermione dashed to the left while Harry ran to the right. Harry snatched the purple parchment from an old witch’s hands and quickly read it. He almost fainted when he got to the line “… will orally stimulate Hermione J. Granger…”
Looking up, Harry found a very green faced Hermione reading a copy of the pamphlet on another table. Hermione looked as if she was about to get sick, faint, and cry (maybe not in that order necessarily). With her lip trembling, Hermione looked at Harry pitifully. Harry walked up to Hermione and threw his arms around her in a comforting hug.
“Don’t worry, Hermione,” he said in what he hoped was a soothing manner. “We’ll get through this.”
“This will be worst then that time Skeeter wrote those horrible things about me,” she cried miserably in his arms.
“Excuse me,” the old witch that Harry had taken the pamphlet away from said in an angry tone. “But I would like my menu back!”
The woman pulled the paper from Harry’s fingers and marched back to her seat muttering about how rude he was.
“Did… did she say /’menu’/?” Hermione asked with her face still buried in Harry’s chest.
Harry looked to the table next to them and saw a man raise the pamphlet to his mouth and state, “Roast duck, please.” He handed the offending paper to the woman next to him who repeated the process and said, “Trout, please.” Within seconds, delicious looking dishes of duck and fish appeared out of thin air in front of the couple.
Harry and Hermione’s attention was drawn back to their table as they heard riotous laughter. They saw Tonks doubled over, pounding her fist on the table as she snorted in an as unladylike way as possible. Remus, too, was howling with laughter. For a second, Harry wondered what could make Tonks and Remus laugh during this very upsetting time for both Harry and Hermione. Their lives were ruined, and the Metamorphmagus and the former Marauder were laughing like…
The former Marauder…
Harry released Hermione and stomped over to Remus growling, “/You son of a/…”
To be continued.

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Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor
Chapter Ten: House-Elf Spanking Inferno
Disclamer: Not mine, I own nothing. I’m not making any money
WARNING: Harsh Language, adult themes, sexual situations (i.e. smut), bad spelling and grammar.
Author’s Notes: This story is a broad farce with over the top humor (a good deal of it is crude and sexual) and OOC actions (that’s Out Of Character if you don’t know). Also, this is my first smut-ish fic. If you don’t like sex and sex-based humor, do NOT read this!
Chapter Ten Summary: Things get revealed in the bathroom… well more revealed than they already are that is.
“Oh, bugger,” repeated Harry.
A small House-Elf partially hidden behind the wall of other House-Elves was able to pop his or her head through a tiny opening and gazed in awe at Harry and Hermione’s naked forms. “Look at that! It be wonderful!” the little House-Elf heralded.
“We need to get out of here,” Harry murmured on the verge of panicking, his face still hovering over Hermione’s naked flower.
“Harry, let’s get out of here right now!” Hermione blurted out as she scampered out from under Harry to seek cover behind him.
With as much dignity as he could muster, Harry covered his bits with his hands while slowly standing up. He could feel Hermione rise with him. He thought that she had lucked out since she got to use Harry’s whole body as a shield from the prying eyes of dozens of House-Elves, whereas he was only able to use his hands to shield himself. But then again, he decided that he would willingly protect Hermione whenever she needed it. Even if only to block the prying eyes in this case.
Scanning the living wall of House-Elves that blocked their exit, Harry turned his head to face Hermione – who was looking nervously over his shoulder – and informed her, “I don’t see a way out.”
“Is there a way out Harry?” Hermione asked nervously.
“Why are you repeating everything I say?” hissed Harry who was reaching his wit’s end.
“Harry, I really wish you would stop speaking in Parsletongue,” snapped Hermione. Apparently when Harry had “hissed” his question, he was literally hissing. “There’s no chance of you getting to go down on me anytime soon, so could you please speak English now.”
Closing his eyes, Harry focused on speaking English, which was a little difficult seeing that he was thinking he was speaking it already. He cautiously asked, “Can you understand me now?”
“Yes,” Hermione whimpered. “Do you see a way out?”
“Um… no,” he replied weakly.
“How about a towel? Do you see any towels so we can cover ourselves?” she pleaded.
The only towel Harry saw was the small hand-sized one he had just used to lather Hermione’s boobs. Harry’s mind drifted back to the very recent, and pleasurable, memory of him rubbing Hermione’s titties with that same towel. Of course, he had quickly abandoned the towel in favor of his tongue.
This temporary moment of reflection had an unfortunate side-effect; it got a rise out of ‘Harry, Jr.’. Harry could feel his appendage begin to stir in his hands. Even though he had just climaxed, Harry knew that in a matter of seconds, ‘Harry, Jr.’ was going to poke its head out of his hands and have a look around with its one good eye. ‘Damn my teenage virility!’ Harry cursed internally.
“Step aside,” a voice that sounded incredibly old ordered from behind the wall of House-Elves. The wall quickly split in half and parted to reveal an amazingly old House-Elf (so old that he made Kreacher look like a baby). This elderly House-Elf was dressed in a very distinguished and regal manner – of course being a House-Elf, his clothes were made up entirely of rags. But Harry could tell that they were rags of a regal manner. “Dobby, be comin’ forth,” the old House-Elf wheezed.
Dobby appeared out of the mass of other House-Elves and walked toward the regal looking ancient elf.
“Is yous certain?” the old elf asked.
“Oh, yes, Dobby is very certains, Fetch, sir,” announced Dobby.
“Brings the Book,” Fetch, the old elf commanded, after eyeing Harry and Hermione suspiciously. Harry could tell by the reverence in which Fetch said “Book” that it was so important that the word deserved to be capitalized.
Six House-Elves marched into the bathroom carrying a very large and very old looking book. The book was at least four feet long, two feet wide, and three and a half feet thick. Hermione pressed herself into Harry’s back in an attempt to get a better look at the gigantic book, which for Harry meant trouble. Unknowingly, Hermione’s attempt to see the book more closely just caused her to push her lovely mounds into Harry’s back. This added to the fact that he was getting aroused at the memory of washing her breasts caused ‘Harry, Jr.’ to become more excited. It was bad enough that every single House-Elf saw him starkers, the last thing Harry wanted was for them to see was his manhood fully erect. He desperately tried to think of disturbing and even disgusting things in order to quell his rising arousal.
The first image that Harry tried to focus on was Ginny; he could always count on the mere thought of that girl to quell an erection. In fact, he gave her a nick-name while he was standing in the bathroom in front of the House-Elves; “Gin-Gin, the Erection Killer.”
Harry tried to focus his mind on the recent, and still disturbing, memory of a topless Ginny sitting on his bed. But he found it difficult to recall the image of Ginny with her modest-sized breasts exposed. The difficulty was mostly due to the fact that Hermione was pressing her naked boobs in his back; the only thing Harry could see in his mind’s eye was the even more recent, and so much more enjoyable, memory of him licking ‘Carmella’ and ‘Natasha’ clean. This memory, of course, had the opposite effect as far as the helping of quelling his erection went.
The six elves placed the massive book on the floor in front of Fetch (who had almost disappeared behind the large tome) and with a snap of his fingers, the book magically opened to a segment halfway through the pages. Hermione let out a soft moan as she saw that the tome was filled with words, sentences, paragraphs, and whole chapters that she hadn’t read yet. Unfortunately for Harry (yet again) the soft moan that Hermione had let out was fairly erotic and the sound of his girlfriend moaning in his ear chased away any remaining desire he had on focusing on any disturbing, or even disgusting, things to aid in stopping encroaching embarrassment. ‘Harry, Jr.’ was poking against his fingers as if the organ was asking if it was allowed to come out and play.
“And now Fetch be reading from the Book of Elfish Prophesy: the Word of Bonky, chapter five, verse one hundred and twelve: /’And lo thine brethren shall be in chains for years upon years upon years!'” /Fetch read aloud from the book.
Hermione made a sound akin to purring in Harry’s ear. There was a book, one that she hadn’t read, or even heard of, sitting right on the floor in front of her, teasing her! Hermione’s unintentional purring noise had an affect on our poor hero. ‘Harry, Jr.’ was no longer poking against Harry’s fingers; the organ was beating on them in hopes of bashing through the barricade.
“Hermione, please be quiet,” Harry pleaded in a whisper, as beads of sweat appeared on his brow. It was rather hard… err sorry about that… work trying to prevent an erection.
“‘And suffer ye shall,'” Fetch continued to read, oblivious to Harry’s plight and Hermione’s apparent excitement. “‘Ye children and ye children’s children and ye children’s children’s children will live through bondage until She arrives. And delivers us into the glorious light of Freedom!'”
/Then Harry felt the one thing that could cause him to lose the battle in stopping a very happy /’Harry, Jr.’ from saying “Hiya!” to every House-Elf in the room. Harry always knew that Hermione loved books, but he never realized until now how just much she really /loved /them. That thing that nearly made Harry lose his battle was ‘/Natasha/’ and ‘/Carmella/’ becoming erect and stiffly poking him in the back. Sweat now dripped of the tip of Harry’s nose as he struggled to contain his growing… err sorry again… arousal.
“‘… And ye shall know Her, for She has a bald feline and can make the One of the Mark stand with just a word…'”
/ /Hermione apparently lost all of her composure, because she gently placed her hand on Harry and was about to ask him to move out of the way so she could get a better look at the book. Unfortunately, Hermione had to decided to place her hands on his bare bottom and breathe seductively in his ear; “Harry…”
BOING
Whether or not ‘Harry, Jr.’ literally made the “/boing/” noise when the organ had escaped from his hands was irrelevant to Harry. All that mattered was that his oldest and most constant toy was now giving every House-Elf in the castle the “happy eye”. If ‘Harry, Jr.’ had a voice, Harry imagined that it would be shouting to the assembled House-Elves, “You lot, bugger off! Me and the lady are gonna wrestle.”
The reaction Harry received from the House-Elves when they witnessed his fully aroused state was very different from what he had expected. He thought that they would react in fear perhaps, maybe scream at the wizard with the hard-on, or make a mad dash away from the perverted human screaming, “He’s pointing it at us!” Harry even thought that some of them would snigger and point at his manhood as they compared it to others they had seen, much as Kreacher and Dobby had. Maybe one of them would bemoan the fact that they would have to “finish off the mistress” much like Dobby used to, but this time due to Harry’s inadequacies.
Instead of laughing or running away in fear, the House-Elves did the most curious thing: they bowed. Every single one of them bowed in Harry’s direction the moment ‘Harry, Jr.’ had appeared to them.
“All Hail the Great One!” they praised with heads on the floor as if in prayer.
Hermione looked over Harry’s shoulder and down at the very jubilant ‘Harry, Jr.’ and said, “I rather like it, but I wouldn’t go as far as ‘the Great One!'”
“Hey!” Harry said dejectedly.
“We’s is free!” one of the larger House-Elves shouted as he jumped up and rushed at Harry. The elf held his arms out to hug Harry as he rushed forward. In his mind, Harry did a quick comparison. Judging by the height of the House-Elf, his head was going to be at ‘Harry, Jr.’s level when he hugged him. Rather than have a House-Elf place his head against his naked, and still fully aroused, bits, Harry – being the brave Gryffindor he was – jumped out of the way. Which, unfortunately, left Hermione to deal with the overzealous elf.
Undeterred by Harry’s ingenious plan of “jumping out of the way” the elf threw his arms around Hermione’s midsection (luckily, Hermione was shorter than Harry so the elf’s head was around her bellybutton). “Oh Great One, yous has finally arrived.”
“Take yous hands off of the Great One, Stubby,” demanded Fetch. “Shows our Savior some respect!”
“Stubby sorry, oh Great One,” the elf said as he let go of Hermione. When the elf, Stubby, backed away from Hermione, she was in too much shock to cover herself back up. Upon seeing her shaved crotch, all the House-Elves murmured, “The Bald Feline!”
“The what?” Hermione demanded.
“Forgives us, oh Great One,” Fetch replied to Hermione.
“Wait… she’s the Great One?” asked Harry, whose jump left him sitting on the ground with a still very awake ‘Harry, Jr.’ pointing at the ceiling. He was more than a touched surprised by this revelation. He had expected that he was the Great One; he figured since he had so many titles already, one more wouldn’t hurt.
“The Prophesy states that ours Savior would be having a ‘Bald Feline,'” Fetch continued and gestured reverently to her groin.
“What?” both Harry and Hermione shouted.
“It is obvious that yous is the Great One,” explained Fetch. “You haves the Bald Feline.”
Harry and Hermione alternated between looking at her shaved groin and Fetch several times before Harry said aloud, “Oh I get it now. Feline… cat… hee-hee!”
“It’s purely for hygiene!” Hermione defended.
“This coming from the girl who just said /’my hair isn’t the only thing kinky about me’/,” retorted Harry from the ground, while still chuckling.
“I’m getting a lecture about perversion from the bloke with a hard-on surrounded by House-Elves.” Hermione shot back.
“Please, oh Great One, do not be angry at’s the One of the Mark,” Fetch humbly interrupted. “If the One of the Mark had not be standing at yours word, we woulds not have been sure if yous was indeed the Great One.”
“Huh? What was the middle part?” asked Harry.
“He said if you didn’t get a hard-on when I said your name, he wouldn’t have been sure about me being ‘the Great One’ simply for having a bald pussy!”
“‘Bald Feline,'” corrected Harry.
“Be quiet ‘One of the Mark’,” Hermione chastised.
“Oh, so that’s my new title.”
“Please, Fetch, I think you’ve got the wrong witch,” Hermione said, ignoring Harry. “I don’t think that I’m your savior.”
“What about SPEW?” inquired Harry.
“Shut it, Harry,” Hermione seethed. “What makes you sure I’m the one?”
“Here, oh Great One, sees for yourself,” Fetch said and gestured to the book. The six elves that had brought the book in held it up so that Hermione could read it. Still very naked, Hermione began to skim through the pages of the book. As Hermione continued to read the book, Harry tried to busy himself.
“Hi, I’m Harry,” he greeted a female elf next to him.
The female elf looked down at Harry’s crotch and commented, “Naw, yous is not too bad. But it wouldn’t hurt if yous were to trims it every once in a while.”
“Twidy believe it being called ‘man-scaping’,” another elf, apparently named Twidy, offered.
“How can you be sure that I am this prophesized savior?” asked Hermione the elderly House Elf, as she turned the page in the enormous book. “This book appears to be centuries old. I have to assume that your kind has come across a woman who was shaved prior to me.”
“In the Book of Dumko, it clearly states in chapter forty-eight, verse one: ‘… and the Great One shall stand before you with her bald feline proudly…’ much like yous is doing now, oh Great One.”
Hermione must have forgotten that she was naked because she blushed a bright red and tried to cover her various bits with her arms and hands. Harry noted that he himself had seemed to have lost all sense of humility. Which wasn’t surprising seeing that in the last few days McGonagall had seen him naked and aroused, Ginny had stripped him naked and molested him, Ron saw him naked and sprawled out on the floor, and Tonks had gotten her own special show. Added to all of that, now every single House-Elf had watched as ‘Harry, Jr.’ popped out of his hands. Harry reckoned that any sense of embarrassment of public nudity had been burned out of him. Shrugging his shoulders, Harry leaned back and let ‘Harry, Jr.’ and his luggage bask in the open air. Mind you, ‘Harry, Jr.’ was still up and raring for another round of playtime with Hermione.
“Beholds!” Fetch called out as he gestured to Harry’s aroused state. “From the Book of Dumko, chapter forty-eight, verse two: /’… the Great One’s companion, the One of the Mark, shall greet thy and thine brethren with both heads held high!’/”
Hermione’s skin burned even brighter upon noticing Harry still erect organ. Harry felt a strong sense of masculine pride as the House-Elves’ eyes shined brightly as they looked at ‘Harry, Jr.’
Still blushing furiously, Hermione turned to a small female House-Elf who was trembling in the presence of “the Great One and Her Companion”. As politely as she could, Hermione asked the nervous House-Elf, “Would you mind fetching me a towel or something to wear?”
Every House-Elf gasped as they tore their eyes away from Harry to stare at Hermione once more.
“Halleluiah!” several House-Elves rejoiced in unison.
“Agains from the Book of Dumko, chapter forty-eight, verse three:” began Fetch while tears of joy streamed down his face. “/’… the Great One shall be humble before the most humble in thine midst…”/
/Fetch snapped his aged fingers again and Hermione was draped in the most beautiful robe Harry had ever seen. It was made out of the finest silk and lace and had thin strands of gold spun into it. Of course the silk was so thin and light that Harry could easily see /’Carmella’ and ‘Natasha’ along with the ‘Bald Feline’. Hermione couldn’t help but to beam as she inspected her new robes. With her eyes smiling, Hermione faced Harry and was about to start to ask him what he thought of it when she saw the apparently ever-erect ‘Harry, Jr.’ looking back at her.
“Could you please conjure some clothes for Harry?” she asked with a little embarrassment.
“Certainly, my lady,” again Fetch snapped his fingers and Harry was clothed. However, Harry’s new clothing wasn’t the fantastic robe that Hermione had received. Instead Harry was now dressed in a pair of plain white boxers. But the boxers did nothing to help hide Harry’s organ from sight; ‘/Harry, Jr./’ was proudly sticking out of the flap in front.
“Why do boxers even have that opening?” Hermione questioned, a bit scandalized.
“I reckon it’s an escape flap,” offered Harry.
“An escape flap?” Hermione asked incredulously. “Never mind,” she added and she bent over and scooped up the wash cloth Harry had used on her boobs and tossed it on /’Harry, Jr.’/. Of course, by now, the cloth had become quite cold and Harry squealed as the cold and wet cloth landed directly on his organ.
Turning her attention back to Fetch, Hermione asked, “What makes you certain that I’m your so-called Great One? Honestly, prophesy can be open to interpretation.”
“That be true,” agreed the ancient House-Elf. “In fact Fetch’s predecessor was being quite positive that the One of the Mark would actually being named Mark.”
“You see!” exclaimed Hermione. “It’s open to interpretation! So what makes you sure now?”
“The signs is unmistakable,” Fetch replied cryptically.
“Because of the ‘bald feline,'” put in Harry. He had said it with a touch of bitterness because ‘Harry, Jr.’ had lost interest due to Hermione being un-naked again, but mostly because the appendage was covered with a cold towel. Harry imagined if the ghost of Gryffindor was here that he would make another rude comment about “blue-balls.”
“You’re not helping, Harry,” snapped Hermione.
“Pardons my lady, but hes be correct. We’s should be recognizing the signs…” began Fetch. “Yous are the one who leads us to Freedom!”
“Wait a tick,” interrupted Harry. “For two years, Hermione tried to enlighten you all and petitioned our classmates to get you lot civil rights and you rejected her completely! You even went as far as avoiding any contact with her. Dobby was the only House-Elf who dared enter the Gryffindor Common Room for most of our fifth year.”
“But if that’s true, what happened to all of the hats I made?” asked Hermione. Harry recalled that she had worked very hard making a plethora of tiny hats in an attempt to free the House-Elves. Harry still didn’t have the heart to tell her that Dobby had been the one who took them all. He realized that he didn’t want to see Hermione upset.
“We’s was not sure yous is the prophesized one,” Fetch explained. “For we’s it be considered heresy to be seeking freedom without the Great One leading we’s.”
Thinking of all the hardship and ridicule that Dobby had suffered from his fellow House-Elves, Harry asked, “Is that why you treat Dobby the way you do? Because he wanted to be free?”
All the House-Elves looked at Dobby with obvious disdain.
“Actually, One of the Mark, Dobby be a rather…” Fetch began to explain and paused as if he was searching for the proper phrase. “He be having a peculiar hobby.”
Hanging his head, a blushing Dobby confessed, “Dobby likes to steal and wear witches’ unmentionables.”
“Is that what happened to my /’Hello Kitty’ /knickers?” asked Hermione. Realizing what she just said, Hermione nervously looked at Harry and blushed brightly.
“Dobby, that’s disgusting!” Harry chided. “Stealing knickers from first years and then wearing them!”
Harry had automatically assumed that the pilfered set of novelty knickers were stolen years ago because his girlfriend obviously hadn’t worn such things since adolescence. Then, Harry remembered that Dobby hadn’t started to work at the Castle until his fourth year. Therefore his assumption about the theft occurring in Hermione’s first year didn’t make sense. Dobby corrected Harry’s observation.
“Oh no, One of the Mark Harry Potter Sir, Dobby took the Great One’s kitty unmentionables the night before last,” the elf squeaked. “Dobby would’ve taken them the first night you two arrived, but the Great One was still wearing them…”
Harry looked at his girlfriend with a great deal of amusement. The night they had arrived at the Castle was the same night that she had first gone down on him. And she was wearing ‘Hello Kitty’ knickers at the time.
“You are a naughty one aren’t you?” Harry murmured to Hermione who, at that time, was doing her best to ignore him by attempting to casually whistle and twiddle her thumbs.
“Dobby, this be true?” Fetch asked. “The Great One was wearing these… what were they’s be called?”
“/’Hello Kitty’/ knickers,” Harry happily provided.
“Since the Great One do be enjoying this ‘Hello Kitty’, it must be divine,” concluded the ancient House-Elf. “All Hail Hello Kitty!”
“ALL HAIL HELLO KITTY!” every House-Elf cried out joyously.
“The Great One also likes spankings!” offered Harry, as he tried to fight the approaching bout of unstoppable laughter.
“HARRY!” scolded Hermione. But it was too late. The air in the bathroom was filled with the sounds of dozens of tiny elf hands slapping dozens of tiny elf bottoms.
“ALL HAIL THE GREAT ONE!” SMACK! “PRAISE OURS SAVIOR!” SLAP!
This new action by the elves bothered Harry; he had announced the fact that Hermione liked to give and receive spankings in hopes of embarrassing his girlfriend further. But unfortunately, he had incited a spank-fest amongst the entire House-Elf population of Hogwarts.
Harry had to admit that the swat that he had given Hermione the day before piqued his interest; he was keen on the idea of pursuing the whole “spank my bottom” side of Hermione further, but this sight before him was truly disturbing. Tiny hands flew with abandon, smacking their targets gleefully. Small red bottoms jiggled as their owners shouted out various praises.
Harry could tell that Hermione was very uncomfortable, due to both the Elves praises and their orgy of spanks. In a move that he thought would comfort his girlfriend, Harry got up and put his arm around her. But, Harry discovered something when he put his arm around Hermione. He found she wasn’t in any discomfort. Well not the discomfort that he was thinking of.
“Are your nipples hard?” asked Harry, upon noticing the even stiffer appearance of ‘Carmella’ and/ ‘Natasha’/. They looked like they were attempting to tear through the lace of Hermione’s lace and silk robe.
“Harry, please…” Hermione breathed out in a mortified, yet breathless, tone.
“You ARE naughty!” Harry whispered in her ear. Without her noticing, Harry discretely raised his hand up in the air. “ALL HAIL THE GREAT ONE!” he cried out before bringing his hand down to slap her playfully on her bum. Hermione squealed out in both pleasure and surprise.
The resounding smack that Harry had landed on Hermione’s bottom signaled an abrupt end to the spank-fest. All the bulbous eyes turned to Harry. Some looked confused while others looked murderous.
“He touches Her!” one elf called out
“How dares he!”
“He’s the One of the Mark… he’s can be touching Her,” another argued.
“The Great One be pure and virtuous. He’s not to be thinking of touching Her.”
“Excuses me, he’s was about to lick Her Bald Feline when we’s be coming in,” a voice near the back pointed out.
“Yeah, She’s be only human. They tends to do things like that.”
“She’s be the Great One,” a particularly angry elf said while shoving another to the floor. “She’s be above such things.”
“Batka saw Her place the One of the Mark’s second head in her mouth in the library,” a elf, presumably Batka, said before punching some other elf.
“You saw that?” both Harry and Hermione asked, completely shocked.
“Heresy!” With that battle cry, nearly every House-Elf attacked one another.
One group would argue in-between punches that the Great One was allowed to have intimate relations with the One of the Mark. “She’s be doing whatever and whoever She’s wants!” The other group dismissed such arguments by calling out, “She’s be above physical desires.” That and biting the ears of the other group. Some House-Elves were actually conjuring chairs solely for the purpose to use the piece of furniture as a bludgeoning weapon.
Apparently the only two elves not involved in the escalating battle were Fetch and Dobby, who were standing close to Harry and Hermione. Fetch humbly addressed Hermione, “Forgives us, oh Great One, sometimes we’s be liking a… heated discussion like this one,” he explained. “Fetch think it be best if Dobby would escorts You and the One of the Mark out of this room.”
Without waiting for a response, Dobby grabbed Harry and Hermione’s hands and they disappeared from the bathroom. With a pop, they appeared in Harry’s room.
“Dobby must goes back to help Fetch ends the… discussion,” Dobby said and quickly disappeared with a pop. A second later, Harry could hear Dobby’s muffled voice shout though the walls separating them; “The Great One happen to be enjoying playings with One of the Mark’s second head!” This was immediately followed by a loud bang.
Once in a while, a bang, scream, or crash would emanate from the bathroom indicating the breadth of the skirmish between the Elfish factions. For what seemed like minutes, Harry and Hermione stood in silence, lost in their own thoughts. Harry’s mind was filled with the revelation that Hermione was apparently the prophesied savior of House-Elves. But more importantly, Hermione was a really naughty witch! She wore ‘Hello Kitty’ knickers and was aroused at the House-Elf spank-fest. He was about to end the thoughtful silence and jibe her about her fetishes when a very loud and booming noise emanated from the Common Room. It was so loud that it felt like the very foundations of the Castle were being rocked. The noise even drowned out the elf-riot as well.
“YOU DID WHAT?”
“What the hell was that?” Hermione asked as dust fell from the rafters.
Harry was about to respond by saying he didn’t know when the voice boomed again.
“YOU ARE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE!”
“Is that…” began Harry upon recognizing the voice, “… Mrs. Weasley?”
“HOW COULD YOU DO SUCH A THING?”
Fearing the worst, Harry and Hermione dashed out of the room and down to the Common Room. They found Ron huddling in fear in the corner, while the Weasley matriarch was screaming at Ginny. Gin-Gin, the Erection Killer looked as if she was in total shock, her face was deathly white and her eyes appeared to be threatening to pop out of their sockets and run away. Mrs. Weasley was the living embodiment of rage; her face was a furious red and was twisted into a mask of anger. She continued to berate her daughter, not realizing that she was spitting in Ginny’s face as she ranted.
“THROWING YOURSELF AT HIM LIKE A SCARLET WOMAN! I DID NOT RAISE YOU TO BEHAVE IN SUCH A MANNER!”
Ginny, who was wearing a humble set of robes (which Harry was immediately thankful for, he couldn’t handle seeing her naked again) looked like she had soiled herself very recently. “I-I-I-I-I’m not the scarlet woman, mum,” Ginny stuttered, trying to save herself. The fear in her voice was apparent, and her squeaking voice sounded like an underfed mouse compared to Mrs. Weasley’s booming voice. “Hermione’s let Harry lick her, down there. And she swallowed him, and he came in her eye!”
“MOLESTING THE POOR BOY AFTER YOU TIED UP HERMIONE! WHAT DROVE YOU TO DO THAT?” Molly shouted, completely ignoring her daughter’s statement.
Harry wondered for a moment if Mrs. Weasley had used a Sonorus Charm on herself, because her voice was far too loud to be natural.
All of the anger and rage pouring off of Mrs. Weasley wanted to make Harry run away like a scared little boy. But when he tried to turn and run away, he found that Hermione had once again taken sanctuary behind him and had wrapped her trembling arms around his midsection. Even though he wanted to run away, Harry now had to stand there and witness this most terrifying event unfold because Hermione had apparently gone into shock and he wouldn’t leave her there alone.
Harry considered grabbing Hermione and running back up the stairs with her in his arms. He was quite surprised to find out that his body was refusing to obey any command. Harry decided to add “Angry Mrs. Weasley” to the list of things that made him freeze up in fear.
“AND NAKED TO BOOT! YOUR BROTHER SAID HE SAW YOUR…your…” Mrs. Weasley seemed distressed at finishing her statement. But she wasn’t about to let anybody off without a proper lecture. “FOR MERLIN’S SAKE, HE SAW your cunny!” Apparently, Mrs., Weasley was so mortified that she had to use the word “cunny” in public, that she had said it so softly, in contrast to her normal /”Lecture Voice”/, that Harry thought he’d gone momentarily deaf.
“But Mum, they were naked too!” Ginny tried once again to derail her mother. “Look at them! She’s wearing a completely see-through gown, you can see everything! And he’s wearing nothing but shorts. Look-look-look!” she added frantically pointing at his crotch. “He’s hanging out of them!”
Harry wanted to put ‘Harry, Jr.’ away, but his mind was still too filled with terror to do so.
“AND THEN ATTACKING HERMIONE! I HAVE HALF A MIND TO BEAT YOU SILLY, YOUNG LADY!” Mrs. Weasley punctuated this threat by brandishing her fist in front of Ginny’s face.
“WHAT MADE YOU THINK THAT WHAT YOU DID WAS ACCEPTABLE BEHAVIOR?”
Harry gulped in fear and he felt Hermione shudder.
Mrs. Weasley roughly grabbed hold of Ginny’s ear and dragged the girl toward the exit of the Common Room. “JUST YOU WAIT UNTIL YOUR FATHER HEARS OF THIS, YOUNG LADY!” Mrs. Weasley screamed as she and her daughter disappeared into the hallway.
Somehow, Harry thought that whatever punishment Mr. Weasley could dish out for Ginny was nothing compared to what Mrs. Weasley was going to do to her.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief, unfortunately too soon. Mrs. Weasley reentered the room with a stumbling Ginny still being dragged by the ear behind her. The older witch stomped up to Harry and wagged her finger in his face.
“I’m not your mother and you’re both adults,” Mrs. Weasley lectured. Even though her voice was calm, Harry still felt the anger pour off of her body. “But I do NOT approve of how fast you two are going!”
Once again, Mrs. Weasley dragged Ginny toward the exit by her ear. Mrs. Weasley paused in the doorway and turned back toward Harry and said, “However, regardless of my views, you should really try to improve your aim. It really does burn when it gets in your eye. I only wish Arthur would learn that. I’ve been telling him for years and years, but does he listen? No, he just shoots himself all willy-nilly over my face, not caring that it gets in my eye or up my nose…
“Also, Harry dear, put it away,” Mrs. Weasley suggested while glancing down at ‘Harry, Jr.’ “You’ll catch a cold.”
But Harry hadn’t really comprehended Mrs. Weasley’s comment on his manhood. Instead, his mind was filled with an incredibly disturbing image of a spent and naked Mr. Weasley standing over an equally naked, but more disturbingly, goo-covered Mrs. Weasley. Harry couldn’t take anymore and fainted.
*
There was no one else; no interruptions, no problems of the outside world, and no worries. Just the two of them… and tonight, the night was theirs alone. A hand lovingly caressed a cheek. His warm lips brushed against her lips. A throaty sigh escaped her mouth as he trailed kisses down her neck.
The two friends and lovers tossed their robes to the side without hesitation. Even though there was no need for haste, they had been waiting for this for a long time. He cupped her breasts in his hands and thanked the heavens for their wonderful gift of this woman while kissing her mounds. She purred as her lover tweaked her nipples.
With a wicked grin on her face that she knew would drive her man wild, she knelt in front of him as if she were at prayer at the alter of his love. She wrapped her hands around his already erect organ and leaned toward him. He held his breath as she took him into her mouth.
His mind was a whirl, no matter how many times she would take him like this, he would never tire of the sensation of her lovely and talented mouth around his love.
But, as these things happen from time to time, the man found that couldn’t hold back. Shortly after his lover began to work on his member, he grunted in an animalistic manner and she quickly pulled herself away since she still hadn’t grown to like the taste of his discharge.
“Hold on-” she implored. But it was too late. The thing she knew was going to happen, the thing she dreaded occurred. He unloaded himself upon her face. It splashed on her nose and into her eyes.
“Damn it!” she scolded her lover and began to wipe his seed from her eyes before too much of it seeped in. “I’ve told you before, you have to aim better, Arthur!”
With that, a messy faced Molly Weasley stormed out of the bedroom, leaving her husband panting.
*
Screaming as if his life was in mortal peril, Harry awoke from his nightmare. With sweat dripping form his body, he sighed in relief as he quickly realized that he was still in the Common Room where he had fainted after Mrs. Weasley had given him advice on how to aim properly so his ejaculate wouldn’t get in Hermione’s eyes. The nightmare had passed.
“You have it easy,” a trembling voice sounded from Harry’s right. “She’s not your mum.”
Harry turned to find his best mate, Ron, sitting on the floor several feet away from him, rocking back and forth. The red-haired wizard’s eyes were bloodshot and sunken, his face was the palest Harry had ever seen it. Harry assumed that his friend had gotten violently ill, several times.
“I’ve never seen a naked woman until yesterday,” murmured Ron, his voice hollow and his eyes looked past Harry as if they had seen enough horror to last him a lifetime. “Then… Then I saw Bellatrix, all… all that h-h-hair… The first woman I see naked almost makes me almost shun the notion of sex completely. Then the next bird I see is Hermione, and I hope you don’t mind me saying this Harry, but she is pretty hot. Nice set of jigglees on that girl. I thought that the horror I felt from seeing that Death Eater skank would have been chased away forever. And even better, Hermione was rolling around on the floor with another girl. The first thing that popped in my mind was ‘/This is great! I get to see two naked witches go at it. What luck!'”/ Ron continued in his lifeless monotone. “I even thought the other witch was kinda… was kinda… h-h-h-” Ron began to stutter as he forced himself to give voice to his shame. “I thought she was h-h-hot. Harry, it was my little sister for Merlin’s sake! I saw her… her bits! A brother should not be forced to see his sister’s… bits! It’s not fair!
“I did what any bloke in my situation would do: I ran to my Mum.” Harry could tell that Ron was in a losing battle with his personal demons. “I fire-called her and she came straight away. I told Mum what happened, how Hermione and Ginny were fighting over you and that Ginny had even tried to molest you. Well, she gave me a talking to, about how I wasn’t a good brother and how it was my fault because I set a bad example for her and what-not. So my day was getting worse: I saw my sister’s… bits and then my mother was blaming me. But I figured it couldn’t get much worse. But then she had to go and give you…. advice…”
Harry shuddered in fear of the recollection of that advice.
“I could have gone my entire life very happily without hearing my mum admit that she’s had my dad’s baby batter in her eyes.” Ron paused before concluding: “I will never be hard again.”
Harry nodded his head silently as he too wondered if ‘Harry, Jr.’ would ever come out and play again.
Both emotionally distraught wizards turned to the portrait hole as the Fat Lady’s painting swung open. Hermione walked in followed by Dobby; each was carrying a tray piled high with food. Harry noticed immediately that the tray that Dobby was carrying was loaded with cakes, éclairs, and biscuits, whereas Hermione’s tray had a varied array of fruits and vegetables. Much to Harry’s dread, Dobby, with his tray filled with delectable goodies, headed straight for Ron. Since Hermione was still insisting that Harry remain on his mysterious diet, she placed the tray of veggies and fruit in front of him.
“Can’t I have one éclair?” Harry asked pitifully.
“He can have it all, for all I care,” Ron offered in his monotone. “I don’t think I’ll eat another bite for the rest of my life.”
“Don’t tell me you two are still troubled what Molly said?” Hermione asked.
“Your mum didn’t just tell you what my mum did,” retorted Ron.
“No, but I did walk in on my parents once,” countered Hermione. She added in an undertone, “To this day, I just don’t see what men like about that silly metal bikini Carrie Fisher wore…
“Ron, your mother just told you that she is still very much in love with your father.” Hermione stated in a clear voice. “You should feel happy for her, not revolted by the notion.”
“What she told us about wasn’t love!” Ron said heatedly, the monotone gone from his speech. “That isn’t love… that’s… that’s…”
“What? ‘A blow-job’?” Hermione finished for Ron. The red-haired recoiled at the term “blow-job” as if Hermione had physically struck him. Hermione continued despite Ron’s reaction, “It isn’t necessarily love, but it proves you mother loves your father and is willing to do an activity that makes him happy.”
“Hermione, they… they’re old and they have kids,” Harry put in. “They shouldn’t be doing things like that.”
“They aren’t too old to have feelings for each other. And a desire to act on those feelings,” argued Hermione. “And as for having kids, Ron has six siblings; counting the twins, Molly has given birth six times. Do you think that means Molly and Arthur have only had sex a total of six times?”
“YES!” both Ron and Harry shouted. Neither one wanted to have the image of the elder Weasleys shagging. Upon wishing that they didn’t want said image entering their mind, naturally that particular image happened to enter their minds.
“Oh please, Ron. I’m certain that your parents have had sex many more than six times in their life,” stated Hermione. “Think of it as ‘practice runs’ if you will. And they like these ‘practice runs’ so much that even though they aren’t having any more babies, they still enjoy doing them.
“And as for you, Harry,” Hermione said turning to her boyfriend. “From all the stories I’ve heard about your father, I’m sure James took every opportunity to do some ‘practice runs’ with your mother.”
Harry used all of his will to block the image of his parents fooling around that was threatening to enter his mind.
“And don’t forget your father was an Animagus as well,” Hermione added with a touch of amusement. “I wouldn’t be surprised to find out if Lily was a little curious and…” Seeing the absolute looks of horror and dismay on her boyfriend’s face, Hermione decided to unleash her more playful side. “Hmmm… I wonder. Is it actually bestiality if the animal’s really human?”
Harry didn’t register the rest of Hermione’s train of thought because he blacked out once again. Mercifully.

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